Dying for Dinner Rolls Page 8

  Annie Mae held up a diaper by the tips of her two fingers. “These are not recyclable.”

  Poking in a container, I spotted a stack of newspapers under a white plastic bag. I yanked out the bag. As I pulled it toward me, it broke, releasing a hot brown liquid down my shorts and leg. It smelled like cola.

  Picking up the mess that had fallen on the ground, I then put it back in the bin. I flipped through the newspaper. A crossword puzzle was filled in with blue ink and pencil.

  The sun shifted, shading the alley, offering a little respite from the intense heat. My khaki shorts were spotted with the dark brown liquid from the broken bag. I had haphazardly pulled my hair into a ponytail. With the humidity, I knew it was frizzy. Something told me I didn’t want to see a mirror.

  A while later, I reached the last brown recycle bin.

  Annie Mae ran her eyes up and down me. “You look like hell.”

  “It’s the digging-through-trash ensemble. It’ll be all the rage soon. Just wait.”

  “More like the homeless look.” Annie Mae smiled.

  We pulled out bottles and cans.

  A few people walking by glanced our way. A guy in the group called out, “There’s the Old Savannah City Mission on Bull Street if you need something to eat.”

  “We’re not destitute,” Annie Mae shouted after them. “I’m a doctor, and she owns a store.”

  A lady in the group made little circles near her head with her finger.

  “We’re not crazy,” Annie Mae shouted as they walked away.

  “I do look kind of needy.” I shrugged my shoulders and waved my hands over my shorts and hair. “Let’s go, okay? We didn’t find anything useful here.”

  Annie Mae pointed to the large, green metal dumpster. “We still have that construction bin over there to explore.”

  “Fine.” Feeling defeated and tired, I took a deep, energizing breath.

  We trudged to the end of the block near Clary’s.

  “How do we get in?” I tried to push up one of the metal lids. “We can’t get in this way. The top is too heavy to open.”

  “I say we climb in this side door.” Annie Mae pulled a crate next to the dumpster. “We can use this as a stepstool.”

  “Are you serious? Let’s call it quits. I need a shower. Clean clothes. A hug from Andrew and my kids. Maybe it’s time to give up.”

  “Hold on there. What are you saying?” Annie Mae’s hand was on her hip.

  “Just that José said that nothing we found could hold up in court anyway.” I turned and slowly walked away. “Let’s call it a day.”

  Maybe I was fooling myself thinking that I could solve two murders. My heart sagged with despair. I’d failed. And I had started with so much hope.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Annie Mae caught up to me. “Indulge me, Cat. There could be a million dollars in there.”

  I turned toward Annie Mae. “Or another diaper.”

  “Please. For me?” Annie Mae took off her glasses and gave me her big, sad brown eyes. “One dive, and we’re done.”

  Annie Mae had spent the whole morning investigating with me. The least I could do was participate in her adventure. “You first.”

  Annie Mae climbed on the crate, hitching her leg into the side opening, her navy capris pulling at the seams. “Thank goodness my pants have spandex, or I’d bust these open and show my unmentionables.”

  With a thud, Annie Mae was in.

  I jammed my head in the opening. Annie Mae was sprawled on top of debris. It smelled of sawdust. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Join the party.” Annie Mae righted herself as she dusted wood chips off her.

  A dog barked nearby. A siren blasted in the distance. I climbed up, grabbing on the side of the opening, and maneuvered my leg. I scraped my shin on something. Could’ve been rusty metal. I couldn’t remember my last tetanus shot. I knew every vaccination my kids had. But my own? I hoped I’d had mine less than ten years ago.

  I got my footing inside, barely able to stand without hitting my head on the top. Light from the side door provided scant visibility.

  “Isn’t this cool?” Annie Mae picked up piece of wood. “A treasure hunt.”

  I climbed over white porcelain, navigating the uneven floor of debris. “Is this a toilet?”

  The dumpster held various household items, cardboard boxes, some trash, and a lot of wood.

  “Look at this old light fixture. Think it’s an antique? Maybe Scarlett will buy it from me.” Annie Mae held a small brass chandelier in her hand. “I’m keeping it.”

  A loud crash echoed inside. It sounded like someone had thrown a large object at the metal wall. I heard voices. A Coke can barely missed me as it whooshed past.

  “What was that?” Annie Mae asked.

  “Someone threw a can in here.”

  “I hope they throw something valuable next.”

  I sniffed. “Do you smell anything?”

  “Now that you mention it, I do. Sort of smells like a campfire, which makes me think of eating s’mores. I’m kind of craving something sweet right now. That diet soda didn’t do it for me.” Annie Mae stood next to me, chandelier in one hand.

  “I don’t want you to panic, but I think something is burning.” My stomach lurched. “And our only exit is there.” I pointed to the opening we had just climbed through. Flames licked up.

  Panicking, I began to pound on the lid, hoping to push it up and get fresh air. My hand stung with each hit.

  The lid didn’t budge. At this rate, we would suffocate. My eyesight was blocked by rising smoke. Dizziness overcame me as I tried to focus.

  Annie Mae coughed and held her shirt over her mouth. “This is the end of my dumpster diving.”

  “I just don’t want it to be the end of our lives.” Finding a sliver of light enabled me to see my phone. I dialed 911.

  “911, how may I help you?”

  Gagging on the smoke, my voice came out shaky. “Please send a fire truck immediately to the alley on Jones Street near Clary’s. There are two of us trapped in a green dumpster. It’s on fire. Please hurry.”

  Chapter 12

  “So I hear a call on the scanner. There’s a fire in a dumpster on Jones, and two people are stuck inside.” José took off his sunglasses.

  A fire truck, an ambulance, and three squad cars lined the alley on Jones. A dozen or so onlookers gathered nearby. The smell of burnt wood hung in the air.

  “Weird, huh?” I grimaced as I stood next to Annie Mae near the ambulance. A half dozen police milled about.

  The fire truck pulled away.

  “What’s even stranger is that, right away, not only did I know those two people were female, I also knew their names.” José took a deep breath and then exhaled.

  “You must be psychic.” Annie Mae nudged me in the arm.

  “No.” José scratched his head. “I knew that two of my friends were getting in way over their heads. I’m not even going to ask why you were in there.”

  “Good idea.” Annie Mae nodded.

  José put his arms in the air.

  “Do you know what caused the fire?” I asked José.

  “They found a burning cigarette butt around the dumpster.” José twisted his mouth. “Another could have been thrown in and set the wood chips on fire.”

  “See?” Annie Mae stood, arms akimbo. “Smoking is hazardous. It almost killed us.”

  “Thankfully, it didn’t.” I looked down at my leg, where EMS had cleaned and bandaged the scrape.

  “Did someone purposely set us on fire?” Annie Mae asked José.

  “I hope not,” I added.

  José said, “I’m not trying to throw shade on you, but what a fool thing—”

  Annie Mae interrupted. “Throw what on us?”

  “I meant that I’m not trying to chastise you about what you all are doing.” José’s radio attached to his shoulder buzzed. He waved at one of the officers. “Gotta go. I’m glad you’re okay. Stay out of trouble.”r />
  I gave José a thumbs-up before he left.

  “Cat, I’ll be right back. I see a former associate over there. I’m going to say hi and tell her about all the excitement I’ve had.” Annie Mae strode over to a gray-haired lady in the crowd.

  I glanced down at my phone. I had several missed calls and texts. Andrew, my mom, Teddy, Timmy, my sister-in-law, and Bezu. Savannah was a small town. I knew everyone would find out about Annie Mae and me and the dumpster. One by one, I called them back, assuring them that I was okay while downplaying the whole incident so no one worried.

  By the time I completed the last call, Annie Mae was back at my side holding a chandelier. “I don’t want to forget this.”

  “At least you got something nice. This day wasn’t a total disaster.” My shoulders slumped.

  “Cheer up. I had fun.” Annie Mae patted my arm.

  “I wanted to find a killer. And now we’re empty-handed.” I plodded down the sidewalk.

  “Not me.” Annie Mae walked alongside me. “We did find out that Bert’s a lying adulterer.”

  “But where does that get us? No closer to anything.”

  As we turned the corner and approached my SUV, I noticed writing on the windshield.

  “What’s on your windshield?” Annie Mae jogged to my car. Her large breasts bounced up and down, and the metal on the chandelier clanged as she took each step.

  I ran to the front of my SUV. The words, written in pink lipstick, said, “Back off Bert.”

  Annie Mae leaned on my SUV, pointing at the message. “Holy smokes. Is that a threat?”

  “I’m not sure. But if it is, then maybe the same person who wrote this also just tried to incinerate us in the dumpster.” I locked eyes with Annie Mae.

  “See? Today wasn’t a total disaster. We must’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest, and now the killer is after us.”

  “And how is this good?”

  “It means we are closer to solving your dad’s and Lucy’s deaths.”

  “Or getting killed.”

  “Let’s stay positive, okay?” Annie Mae shrugged her shoulders.

  “Right.”

  My head spun with the implications of someone being after us. My husband and mom couldn’t know about this, or they’d never forgive me for putting myself in danger. For that matter, I wanted to run the other way, too.

  I loved my kids and family and couldn’t imagine what would happen to them if something happened to me. On the other hand, I felt just as strongly about continuing the investigation and getting the killer off the streets.

  I was torn.

  Continue or run away?

  Chapter 13

  Annie Mae leaned on my SUV’s hood. She took a finger and touched the bottom of the letter B. “It’s written in lipstick.”

  “Pink lipstick.” A bell went off in my head. “Could it be the same used on the note found next to Lucy’s body?”

  Clouds rolled in. A crack of thunder sounded. The humid air smelled earthy and sweet.

  Annie Mae took out her phone and began to snap pictures of the windshield.

  I fobbed my doors open. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking pictures, just in case it rains.” Annie Mae pointed up. “It’s getting dark.”

  “Good idea. But I think it’ll take more than rain to get that off.”

  “Should we call José?” Annie Mae opened the passenger door.

  “I will.” I got in the driver’s side and hit speed dial nine.

  José answered. “Are you stuck in another dumpster?”

  “Ha. No.” To Annie Mae, I said, “He wanted to know if we were stuck in another dumpster.”

  “Funny.” Annie Mae buckled up.

  Back on the phone, I got serious. “So, listen, José. Somebody vandalized my SUV.”

  “Oh?” José asked.

  “Someone wrote ‘Back off Bert’ on my windshield.”

  “Back off, like a threat?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “With what?” José asked.

  “Pink lipstick.”

  “Lipstick? So you can wash it off, right? It’s not permanent.”

  “No. But Annie Mae took pictures of it, too, just in case.”

  “Nothing else is wrong with your vehicle?”

  “No. I’m sure the message referred to Lucy’s husband.”

  “I guessed that, too.” José asked, “Do you need a police report?”

  “Should I file one?”

  “If you need it for an insurance claim.”

  “No. But I do want proof about the message written on my windshield. And for someone to take a sample of the lipstick. Just in case it proves useful later on.”

  “An officer will be there shortly. Sit tight.” José clicked off.

  Five minutes later, a squad car pulled up.

  A skinny, fresh-faced officer walked over to us. “Hey, are you the dynamic duo that was in the burning dumpster?”

  “We’re celebrities.” Annie Mae grinned from ear to ear.

  Ten minutes later, the officer finished the report, took the sample of the lipstick, and left.

  I struggled to see in the window through the lettering. “What a mess.”

  “We have to get something to wash that off.” Annie Mae rummaged in her purse. “My makeup remover pads may help. I may have some tissue, too.”

  “Look in the backseat. I have a box of baby wipes.”

  “You still carry them around? The girls have been out of diapers for years.”

  “Yes, but they still get sticky fingers, and there are always spills to clean.”

  After I used a box of baby wipes, my windshield was clean, and we were on our way.

  “What do you think that message meant?” Annie Mae asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. It was missing punctuation, so I’m not too sure. Did it mean to read ‘Back off,’ then a period, then ‘Bert’? Meaning Bert signed the message? Or did it mean leave Bert alone, and someone else wrote it?”

  “Like his mistress?” Annie Mae suggested.

  “I think we need to visit Bert and Susie.”

  “Since they’re a couple, maybe they’ll be together, and we’ll get two lovebirds with one stone.”

  “That would be nice.”

  I drove the few blocks over to Bert’s house and parked in front.

  “Let’s play detectives.” Annie Mae unbuckled and got out.

  As soon as I climbed out, it began to sprinkle. It smelled of wet soil.

  Annie Mae held her purse over her head. “I’m getting wet.”

  “Run between the raindrops.” I always said that to the kids, too, when they complained about getting rained on.

  We sped up our pace. Shortly, we were standing under the awning on Bert’s porch.

  Annie Mae jabbed the doorbell a few times.

  The door opened. Bert, in shorts and pressed shirt, looked us up and down. “What the hell are you two doing here again?”

  “We need to talk to you,” I said.

  “Jeez.” Bert grimaced. “Cat, you look like hell.”

  “It’s been a rough day.” I ran a hand through my hair, only to get it stuck.

  “What’s that smell?” Bert’s nose crinkled.

  “Scent of a campfire, right?” Annie Mae added.

  Bert nodded.

  “It’s us. Perfume of the burning dumpster,” I explained.

  Bert raised an eyebrow.

  “Never mind.” I sighed.

  Bert asked, “So what do you want this time? You’ve got two seconds because I have even less patience for you two than I did the first time you showed up.”

  “What’s with the message on her windshield?” Annie Mae asked Bert while motioning toward me.

  “What are you talking about?” Bert held the door halfway open.

  “The message ‘Back off Bert’ written in lipstick,” I said.

  “I don’t know anything about that.” Bert raised an eyebrow. “Ho
w do you know it’s about me?”

  “You’re the only Bert I know.”

  “That doesn’t matter. I didn’t write any message on your car. You need to leave now.” Bert began to close the door.

  “Whoa, hold on there. It was written in pink lipstick.” Annie Mae grabbed on to the door.

  “So?” Bert furrowed his eyebrows.

  “Doesn’t Susie wear that color?” I asked Bert.

  Bert blushed and looked at the ground.

  “Speechless, huh?” Annie Mae observed.

  “Bert, this is not looking good for you or your girlfriend. Yes, we know about your mistress, Susie. First we almost get cooked in a dumpster, and now a threatening message is left on my vehicle.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” Bert turned his palms up.

  “You lied about where you were when Lucy died. That is suspicious in and of itself,” I said.

  “Your mistress may’ve wanted her competition, Lucy, out of the way.” Annie Mae shook a finger in Bert’s face. “So she killed her. Or maybe you schemed together to kill her.”

  “That’s enough. You both need to get the hell out of here. If you don’t, I’m going to get a restraining order on you.” Bert huffed as he nudged Annie Mae away from the door.

  “Oh, hell no. You’re not going to restrain—” Annie Mae lunged at Bert.

  I grabbed her arm, keeping her from Bert. “Fine, Bert. We’ll leave. Just know that you and Susie are on our list of suspects.”

  “If I ever see either one of you here again, I promise I’ll call the police next time.” Bert slammed the door.

  “That went well.” Annie Mae brushed her hair with her hand. “I think I’m getting this detective stuff down.”

  “How so?”

  “You see how I made him nervous? That’s called backing him into a corner.”

  “So?”

  “Now that he’s scared, he’s going to have to react. Maybe we’ll catch him doing something that’ll prove that he killed Lucy. We’ll have to keep close tabs on him.”

  “Not too close, or he’ll get us arrested.”