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Authors: Casey Mayes

A Killer Column (25 page)

BOOK: A Killer Column
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Sherrie swatted at me with a rag that was flung over her shoulder. “Hold on to him, Savannah. He’s one of the good ones.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said.
After Sherrie was gone, a man tried to get Clayton’s attention at the register. “If you all will excuse me.”
“Of course,” Jenny said.
After they were gone, I asked, “Are they married?”
Jenny shook her head. “No, they grew up together, but nobody from either side of the tracks liked them being such good friends, so they drifted apart. Fifteen years ago, Sherrie lost her husband in a car wreck about the same time Clayton’s wife left him for another man, and the two of them decided it was high time they got to be the friends they were meant to be. They bought this place, and it’s been thriving ever since they opened it.” She looked around and said, “Judges eat here, right alongside trash collectors. The only rule they have is you take the next open seat if you’re waiting, no matter who’s around you. They pride themselves on serving the best pie in North Carolina, and offering it to anyone with the price of a slice on him.”
“That still doesn’t explain why they’re so fond of you,” I said.
“I helped them out once with a little situation, and they won’t let me forget it,” Jenny answered.
“You’re not going to leave it at that, are you?”
“I am,” Jenny said. “Look, here comes our order.”
Sherrie came out with a tray loaded down with six plates. “That’s too much,” Jenny said.
“Only one is for you,” she said as she slid a piece of peach pie in front of her. “Savannah, do you like apple?”
“I sure do,” I said, and she gave me a piece of pie with a flaky golden crust barely able to contain the golden apple slices inside.
Zach looked a little worried. “Sherrie, as much as I’d love to, I can’t eat that much.”
She laughed again, and Clayton smiled at the register. “I’m just having some fun with you, Zach. Take your pick, though.”
He studied the pie slices, and then finally settled for a slice of lemon meringue.
“That’s an excellent choice,” Sherrie said.
“What would you have said if I’d picked the sweet potato?”
Sherrie laughed. “The same. How do you know it’s not pumpkin?”
“Pumpkin is darker, and the texture is different. It’s easy enough if you know what you’re looking at.”
Sherrie nodded. “Not everybody can tell, though. You do like pie, don’t you?”
“I told you,” Zach said as he took his first bite. “Wow. This is unbelievable.”
“Glad you like it,” Sherrie said, and then looked at us. “Anything else for you ladies?”
“No, we’re good. Thanks.”
“Then I’ll give you some peace.”
She disappeared into the back after whispering something to Clayton, who laughed heartily. It was clear that they were indeed the best of friends.
“They’ll give us some space,” Jenny said as she took a bite of her pie. “The woman is magic.”
I tasted mine, amazed by the texture of the crust, the crisp edge to the apples, and the blend of cinnamon, nutmeg, and some spices I didn’t recognize, giving the pie a whole different level of flavor. “Wow is right.”
“I told you she was good,” Jenny said as she took another bite. “What did you find out from Lassiter, Zach?” Jenny asked.
He finished a bite, and had another poised for his mouth. “You two go first.”
“So you can finish your pie?” I asked.
“Guilty as charged.”
I didn’t have a problem with that. As my husband kept eating, I began to bring him up-to-date on what Jenny and I uncovered so far.
Chapter 19
I
TOOK A BITE OF MY PIE, AND THEN GOT STARTED. “OKAY, I’LL go. Probably the biggest thing we learned was that Kelsey and Brady have been dating for seven months. He’s the one who got her the job with Derrick.”
“What a lousy thing to do to a girlfriend,” Zach said through a mouthful of pie.
“That’s what we thought, but Kelsey appears to be grateful for it. Brady claims that when we saw him visiting Cary, he was just trying to keep Kelsey’s job for her.”
“So, they weren’t courting flowers after all,” Zach said with a smile.
“Or condolence flowers, either.”
“I get it; we were both wrong,” Zach said. He stabbed his fork in the air at me as he added, “But that doesn’t exactly clear him in Derrick’s murder. If anything, it gives him more reason to want to see him dead than we realized before.”
“That’s what we said. He seemed to think that because he’s the one who pulled Kelsey back from the bus, he’s absolved of Derrick’s murder.”
That caught my husband by surprise. “He was with her when it happened?”
“Yes,” Jenny said, “but he claims he didn’t see anything until she started falling toward the bus.”
“It gives us something else to check,” Zach said. “What else do you have for me?”
“We’re fairly certain that it wasn’t Sylvia,” I said, “at least not when it comes to the attempt on Kelsey. She’d ordered a salad from room service, and it took an hour to deliver. There’s no way she’d risk leaving if it would be so easy to verify that she was gone.”
“Did you check with the hotel to see if it’s true?”
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Tell him how you did it,” Jenny said with a smile.
“He doesn’t need to know everything,” I answered, hoping Zach would drop it.
“I just assumed you asked Benjamin.”
“I tried that first,” I admitted, “but he was gone; at least we thought he was.”
Zach stroked his chin, and then said, “If I had to guess, I’d say that you impersonated Sylvia with the front desk clerk.”
Jenny looked shocked by my husband’s guess. “She did! How could you possibly know that?”
“You keep forgetting I used to do this for a living,” Zach said. “That means we can mark Sylvia off the list for the attempt on Kelsey, but not Derrick’s murder.”
“We’re having a tough time eliminating suspects for that, aren’t we?” I asked.
Zach shrugged. “I’m fairly certain that we can strike Lassiter’s name off all of our lists.”
“How could we possibly do that? Did he say something?”
Zach smiled as he finished the last bite of his pie.
“Come on, that’s not fair. We told you everything we know,” I said. “Now it’s your turn.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow as she looked at me. “Savannah, that’s not everything.”
“Shhh,” I said. I wasn’t certain what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to spoil her play.
Zach’s smile disappeared. “You two aren’t holding out on me, are you?”
“That depends. Are you keeping anything from us?”
He put his fork down and wiped his lips. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Lassiter has a pretty good alibi for the day of the murder. He didn’t want to tell me until I started putting a little pressure on him.”
“How good could it be?” I asked.
“If it checks out, it’s pretty solid. Lassiter claims that he was with his attorney discussing his settlement with Derrick when the man was murdered,” Zach said. “That’s what triggered the sale of the syndicate you all belong to, Savannah. Derrick was going to use the money he got from the proceeds to pay off Lassiter so he wouldn’t sue him over their land deal that went sour. It turned out he wasn’t as free and clear of it as he’d originally thought, and this was his way to make it go away for good.”
“But he fired half his syndication group, including me.”
“That was for show only, trust me. It was a way he could put the screws to all of you one last time, but he had no intention of firing anyone. He needed you all as part of the group to make the sale go through. Lassiter laughed in my face when I accused him of murder. His point was, why would he kill his golden goose before he got any eggs, and I tend to agree with him. I’m going to look into it and see if it’s true. Now, tell me what else you two learned today.”
I looked as innocent as I could manage. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
Jenny said, “Come on, we learned something else.”
“I’m just as curious as Zach is,” I said.
“I just assumed you saw it, too. When Brady came out the first time, there was something sticking to his foot.”
“It was just a piece of paper,” I said, remembering the paper, but dismissing it as unimportant.
“Was it? From where I stood, it looked as though it had been torn out of a telephone directory. That’s the same thing we found in Derrick’s suitcases. It can’t just be a coincidence, can it?”
“No, but I’ve got to admit that I missed it,” I said.
“Don’t feel bad. From where you were standing, you probably couldn’t see it as clearly as I could.”
“But what does it mean?” Zach asked.
“When we get back to Jenny’s, we’re going to have to take a closer look at those telephone books,” I said. “But right now, it’s time to go see Mindi and find out how she can suddenly afford to stay at the Brunswick Hotel.”
Zach tried to signal for the bill, but Clayton was pointedly ignoring him. “Why won’t he come over here?” my husband asked.
“I was afraid of that,” Jenny said. “He’s not going to take your money, either.”
“They don’t charge you? For pie like this? Are you serious?” I’d rarely seen my husband so baffled and amazed at the same time.
“Not a dime. If I try to leave so much as a tip, I get it back in the next day’s mail.”
“Jenny, what exactly did you do for them?”
She wouldn’t answer, but simply shrugged.
“At least I can try to handle it myself,” Jenny said.
She approached Clayton, who shook his head vigorously. I heard him say, “Don’t make me get Sherrie out here again. I don’t want to, but I will if you force me to.”
“Thank you for the coffee and pie,” Jenny said. “Please be sure to thank Sherrie, too.”
“Don’t stay away so long the next time, young lady.”
“If I come back sooner, will you let me pay?”
He shook his head solemnly. “You know that’s not happening. Good night, folks,” he called out to us.
Zach and I both thanked him profusely, and as we were leaving, we saw another man approach Clayton. “Is the food free for everyone tonight? If it is, I want to add to my order.”
“Harry, we both know you can afford whatever I charge, and if you want to keep having access to Sherrie’s food, you’ll pay it with a smile.”
“I was just kidding,” Harry said as he slipped a twenty to Clayton.
When we were outside, I said, “I feel bad depriving them of income.”
“You heard me in there,” Jenny said. “They won’t take my money.”
My husband asked, “I wonder if she makes Shoofly pie? My grandmother used to make it on special occasions, and I haven’t tasted any as good as hers in a long time.” He got a faraway look on his face as he added, “I bet Sherrie could do it if I asked her to.”
“Come on, champ,” I said as I led him to our car. “You’ve had enough pie for one day.”
“Is there even such a thing as too much?” he asked.
As Jenny and I got in, I said, “Thank them again for us, would you?”
“The next time I’m there, I promise to,” she replied.
I looked back into the diner and saw Clayton and Sherrie there, side by side, waving and smiling at my friend. I couldn’t help wondering what service she’d rendered that was worth such special treatment, but then again, Jenny was like that. If she saw a friend in need, she’d move heaven and earth to help them, and I was the biggest example of that behavior in the world at the moment.
It was one of her most endearing traits, and I was thankful again for the college roommate lottery that had thrown us together in the first place. It was time to head over to the Brunswick and see what Mindi Mills was up to.
 
 

H
OW ARE WE GOING TO FIND MINDI’S ROOM?” JENNY asked me as we walked into the Brunswick Hotel’s lobby.
“I’m going to call her on the house phone,” I said.
Zach asked, “How are you going to get her to come down here?”
“I’m going to say we found Derrick’s shoes, the ones she seemed to be so attached to.”
“But we gave those back to Cary,” Jenny said.
“Yes, but I’m guessing that Mindi doesn’t know that.”
I picked up one of the courtesy phones in the lobby and dialed zero.
“Yes?” a pretentious voice answered.
“Mindi Mills, please.”
“One moment,” he said. At least she hadn’t blocked her calls. The phone rang ten times, and then went to voice mail. I decided not to leave one, and hung up.
“She’s not there.”
“Could she be in the restaurant or the bar?” Zach asked.
“It’s worth a look.”
We walked to the restaurant, which was crowded with very well-dressed diners. I didn’t spot Mindi, though, or Cary, either.
“If she’s not at the bar, I say we talk to Cary again, since we’re already here,” Zach said. “That is, if I’m allowed to tag along this time.”
BOOK: A Killer Column
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