Southern Sass and a Battered Bride Read online

  He got quiet again, and I held my breath and waited. Betsy was mouthing what and lifting her hands. I held up my index finger.

  “No, we’re here now. I’m just going to dive in.” He groaned loudly, and I thought he was about to hang up. “The body’s decomp is farther than what is typical. It isn’t unusual if the body was exposed to the elements, as this one certainly was. I’ve sent tissue samples off to be analyzed to determine if drugs were the cause of death. There isn’t any other evidence of trauma, other than a couple of healed bone fractures that were old. I’m guessing from childhood. Her parents will be able to clear that up. Another interesting discovery is the victim claimed to be pregnant, three months along, according to Alex, and there is absolutely no way that could be true.”

  My mouth gaped open and hope bloomed. Could Mama be wrong? “Are we sure it’s her, then? Surely she showed Alex some evidence. A sonogram picture, a pregnancy test, or something.”

  “It’s her, all right. The dental records her parents sent over are a match.”

  I held my hand over the receiver. “Lucy lied about being pregnant.”

  Betsy’s face turned red with irritation. “She trapped him!”

  I held my finger to my lips. “Wow. Anything else? Evidence that will lead us to find out who killed her maybe?”

  “Nothing conclusive. She wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt under her wedding dress, which I found unusual. She wasn’t on her wedding day; I saw the injection mark on her bare thigh. Again, I’d been right.”

  “I wasn’t questioning your abilities, Teddy. And that is weird about the sweat outfit. Why would someone dress and redress the body?”

  “I don’t have an answer for that.”

  Yeah, I didn’t figure he would. “Hey, I heard fentanyl can be adapted into a street drug. Is it possible she dosed herself and just got the amount wrong?”

  “It’s hard to tell. I’ll know more when I get the toxicology report back.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Some tests take days, others weeks to months. We should have something definitive on cause of death in a few days, though. Even if she was a long-term drug user, someone wanted the authorities to believe you were responsible. It’ll help define the case, of course. And for the record, I don’t believe for one second you had anything to do with this girl’s murder. And I’ll voice that opinion to the detective. I imagine he and I’ll be working closely during this investigation, since Eddie has agreed to work the robbery case.”

  We settled into silence for a few beats, and I supposed he was pondering what all this meant, as I’d been.

  “Thanks for being my friend.”

  “You were there for me during my time of need. I won’t ever forget it. I’ll always have your back.” Teddy’s voice wobbled.

  Overcome with emotion, I teared up as we disconnected the call. Teddy was one of the good ones.

  Betsy stuffed the remaining corner of bread into her mouth. “Well, what gives?”

  I laid out everything Teddy told me and my concerns about Mama affecting him negatively.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Teddy. He’s tough. Besides, it isn’t like your mama is making him bawk like a chicken or somethin’. She’s doin’ some real good. We need all the help we can get. With my stupid Aunt Traitor fingering me for the murder and someone trying to frame you, we’ve got some serious problems. I mean, I can’t quit stress eating. I keep thinking if we have to do hard time in the slammer, we’ll never get good food again. We’ll have to eat moldy bread and tasteless bologna for God knows how long.” Betsy hopped up and opened the door to my fridge. “You don’t have nothin’ real in here to eat. Let’s order something. We’ve got an entire murder case to crack, and I can’t do no cracking on an empty stomach.”

  CHAPTER 18

  A fter we ordered dinner, we stood in my office, where I had a huge whiteboard hung above the whitewashed desk. I tossed the teal throw pillow that had fallen off the chair back on it and rolled the white office chair aside. I put Lucy’s name in blue at the top of the board. Sam’s theory was shot, now that we knew Lucy was unequivocally dead. I put Alex’s name under hers in red, with money clip in parentheses, and beside his, the biker with a question mark. We still didn’t have a positive identification on him. To the left of their names, I added the body being dumped at my house and evidence planted. In parentheses, fentanyl.

  Under the evidence, I put the names of everyone who had been inside my home after the murder. If it was a murder. I put a question mark after Alex’s name.

  “Alex had to have been outside your house after.” Betsy put the money clip on the desk. “I hate to say it, but we ought to call him over here and have it out with him. It’ll be better if we go at him together.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Bets. You should have seen him at the sheriff’s office. He practically foamed at the mouth. I mean, I’ve never seen him like this. And once he finds out Lucy wasn’t ever pregnant, and the evidence against me, he’s liable to blow a fuse. And when that happens, I don’t want to be anywhere near him.” I tapped the marker against the desk. “I would like to know if Alex has been snooping at my house, and why.”

  She made a face and folded her arms, just as the doorbell rang. “He’s my own blood and I don’t go accusing folks without cause, but how could his clip get here if he hasn’t been? Maybe he’s lost it, or worse, is on drugs.”

  “All right, fine. He was probably outside. I just hate to even think he might be behind setting us up.” I followed Betsy out of the room and into the living area.

  “Me too,” she said sadly. “I’ll grab the pizza. You get the plates.”

  “Okay.” My cell rang as I was putting the plates on the bar. I hit the speaker icon when I saw it was Javier. “Hey.” I grabbed two wineglasses from the cabinet.

  “Hey yourself. I need to come by and have a word with you later.” He sounded rushed.

  I had the wine fridge open and decided on a bottle of merlot. “Is this officially or unofficially?”

  “Like I was never there and way unofficially.”

  “Now I’m nervous.” I searched for my corkscrew. I needed this wine now.

  Betsy came trudging back in with a large box of pizza and a small box of breadsticks. She had to have her breadsticks. “Where are the salads?”

  “I didn’t order no salads. This here’s a last meal sort of thing. Ain’t no one ordering salads for their last meal.” She plopped down the boxes and lifted the lids.

  “Pardon me?” Javy asked.

  “Sorry. Betsy’s here and we ordered pizza.”

  “Ah.” He answered as if that explained everything perfectly. “I’ll see you tonight. It’ll be late.”

  “How late?”

  “Late.”

  Betsy started fanning herself. “Phew, that hunk of burnin’ Latin love is a sweet-talker. I think I’m going to faint. Jump on that! This could be like your last conjugal before the big house. If he was here for me, I would. Desperate times calls for desperate measures.” She kept fanning herself and took a bite of super supreme pizza. “Now that’s a hot scene.”

  I pointed to the phone just as Javy said, “Goodbye, ladies.” I heard the smile on Javy’s face, and it added much-needed levity to the day.

  Betsy nearly choked. “I thought he’d hung up. He’s gonna think I want to jump his bones.”

  “Don’t you?” I laughed and so did she as we loaded our plates with pizza. “Let’s get back to the case.” I sat down and a took a deep sip of wine.

  Sam’s ringtone blared and his smiling face came up on the screen. I was a popular girl today. I hit the answer icon. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Turn on the news!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do it!”

  “I’m on it, Sam.” Betsy was already searching for the remote I always seemed to lose. She began digging between the couch cushions.

  “Good, you’re not alone. And for the record, every
thing I ever said about Alex Myers will be validated in the next minute. Call me back.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Betsy and I exchanged a wide-eyed glance as she came up with the little black remote and clicked, turning the flat-screen on.

  On the steps of city hall stood Alex, who’d cleaned up since I’d seen him last. He wore a blue blazer and khaki slacks. Next to him stood an older couple, who I assumed were the Carmichaels. The woman with silver hair, wearing dark sunglasses and a pleated cream dress, held tightly to her husband’s arm. Detective Thornton stood opposite them, and Eddie, along with the man I recognized as his attorney friend Mr. O’Malley, stood off to the side. My jaw dropped open as Alex stood in front of the microphones and his voice traveled through the speakers. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Alex smoothed his hair after a gust of wind caught it and he shifted on his feet.

  “Really?” The female reporter held her ground. “Because I have a statement from a personal friend of yours who insisted that is exactly what you’ve said and why you left the island to seek outside help.”

  “I don’t know who your source is, miss, or what they thought they heard, but I refute it one hundred percent. This has nothing to do with mistrust of the Peach Cove Sheriff’s Department or our sheriff. After speaking with my in-laws”—Alex turned back and motioned to Lucy’s parents—“we made a collaborative decision to reach out to the Atlanta PD and ask for help. Having Detective Thornton lead on my wife’s case is advantageous for everyone involved.”

  A balding reporter I recognized as one of Betsy’s high school exes raised his hand. “Is it true your cousin Betsy Myers is a suspect in your wife’s murder case? Your mother went on record last night that the victim and Betsy had an altercation and quoted threats your cousin made toward Lucy only days before her death.”

  Betsy sat on the floor in front of the TV. “I can’t believe Larry would even ask such an awful thing.”

  I could. This was big news for Peach Cove and probably one of Larry’s only chances to make any serious headlines.

  Detective Thornton touched Alex’s arm and Alex took the hint and stepped aside, not that he looked happy about it. “Everyone is being questioned at this point and, as of this moment, no arrests have been made.”

  “How can you drag your feet on a murder case?” Larry pressed.

  “No one is dragging anything. The cause of death is still undetermined. While we appreciate the public’s concern, we cannot and will not jeopardize our case to satisfy curiosity. As to any more specifics of the case, we cannot comment. Thank you.”

  A roar of voices went up with more questions. It was hard to make them out. Until we heard my name. “Isn’t it true, Deputy Myers, that your ex-girlfriend Marygene Brown, owner of the Peach Diner, has been called in for questioning on your wife’s murder as well? So, it isn’t just your cousin in question but also your ex-girlfriend.”

  “I’ll take this one, Deputy Myers.” Mr. O’Malley moved in front of the microphone. “No, that is not accurate. My client, Marygene Brown, has not, nor has ever been, a person of interest. As Detective Thornton said, everyone who was present the day of the unfortunate incident is being questioned. Also, as the detective stated, the cause of death has yet to be determined. It is in the best interests of everyone involved that anyone with information regarding the case to please come forward and speak with the Peach Cove Sheriff’s Department. A tip line has been created, and you’ll find it at the bottom of your screen. Even the simplest detail could aid law enforcement in solving what happened to Lucy Carmichael.”

  “Myers, Lucy Myers.” Alex sounded a little agitated as he shouted behind Mr. O’Malley.

  The old man turned and stepped aside.

  “Sheriff Carter.” A chorus of voices rang out. “Can you tell us anything about how the body was discovered?”

  I held my breath and perched on the edge of the sofa.

  Eddie stepped forward and rested both hands on the podium, and I wondered if he needed it to steady himself. His face appeared paler, and he was sweating. “We are unable to comment on the specifics of the case at this time.”

  “Sheriff Carter? Is there a murderer on the loose here in Peach Cove?”

  “Now, it’s questions like that, Larry, that spread pandemonium.” Eddie pierced Larry with a pointed glare, and the reporter slinked backward. Eddie faced the cameras and wiped his brow. “I urge the public, if you know anything, we do indeed have the tip line set up and ready to receive any and all information you have. Also, I’m told there is a number below the tip line at the bottom of your screen that we urge you to use to express your concerns. There is absolutely no evidence that anyone else is in danger at this time. Be vigilant, as always, but go about your lives and leave the case to the authorities.”

  A female reporter blurted, “Isn’t it true the body was discovered by Deputy Reyes at your daughter’s residence?”

  Alex’s head whipped around. He hadn’t known where Lucy’s body had been discovered.

  I gasped and Betsy reached out and patted my knee.

  “We cannot comment on the open investigation. However, I will say this, check your facts before starting rumors.”

  “Are you protecting your daughter, Sheriff?”

  “I have nothing else to add.”

  “Sheriff, are you fit to serve under these circumstances?”

  After another reiteration about the tip line and the safety of the islanders, the station took us back to the studio.

  Betsy turned the TV off, and I slid onto the floor next to her.

  CHAPTER 19

  It took us about twenty minutes to get off the floor and try to articulate what we’d just seen. The shell shock we’d both experienced had us each in a state we’d never been in before. And Bets and I had been through a lot together. Betsy had recommenced eating, and we’d both shut our phones off. The texts and calls were incessant. I’d spoken to my attorney, Eddie, my sister, and my brother, of course, and Betsy had spoken to Meemaw and Aunt Vi. After that, we’d made the decision to set our iPhones to do-not-disturb. My attorney had advised me not to speak to reporters, and I felt certain Betsy’s would do the same once she spoke with him.

  I pulled my plate from the microwave and grabbed a fork. I wasn’t sure I could stomach the pizza now, but I’d felt light-headed and knew my blood sugar was rapidly dropping. “We need to find out everything we can about Lucy. I want to know who she was before she moved here. Where she lived, where she went to school, who her friends were, and what happened to cause the rift between her and her parents. If I can get to know the woman whose body was laid out on my deck, then maybe I can determine why they wanted her dead.” I chewed and swallowed the bite I’d taken and forced it down with a sip of wine.

  “We better get on that fast.”

  “I intend to.” I hurried to my office and came back with my laptop and got busy on Facebook, searching Lucy out. Her posts weren’t public, so I couldn’t see those, but I was able to peruse her friends list.

  “Wow. That’s sad.” Betsy peeked at the screen. “She ain’t got but a few friends. I’ve got loads, close to four thousand.”

  “You better be careful accepting any and all requests you receive.”

  She made a pfft sound and took another bite of pizza. “Those peeps are my followers. They love them some Betsy. I post all sorts of helpful tips on food and fashion.” She glanced at the ceiling while she chewed. “I’m thinking her ex, the biker, has a story to tell. Is he on her list?”

  “Hmm,” I scrolled for a man with the first name David and filled Betsy in on my conversation with Trixie and my recon of Lucy’s rental.

  “Well, that’s proof then. Stupid Lucy did have a piece on the side. She never stopped diddling her ex. You sure you searched that place good? Maybe you should’ve waited for me. I’m like a bloodhound when it comes to investigatin’ and finding evidence.”

  “I’m sure. It was clean.”

  “Hmph. Either that
biker fella is a killer on the run or just her lover who doesn’t want to be found. His name is David, huh?” Betsy poured herself another glass of wine. “Trixie said Lucy chatted with a David. Until we find the mystery man, we’ll have no way of knowing his identity. They may be the same person.”

  “We’re this close from being arrested.” She showed an inch between her thumb and index finger. “We have to find him. What’s the stupid detective doing? Sitting on his hands? Having dumb press conferences.”

  It sure felt like it, and I exhaled loudly. “No luck.” Could it be possible she really hadn’t had many friends? She must’ve had a few back home.

  “Figures. She probably didn’t want nobody knowing her nasty beeswax. And I’m guessing her ex, the killer, didn’t think nobody would believe you could pull this off on your own, so they roped in the cousin who obviously had misgivings about the marriage.” She gulped from the glass. “Why couldn’t I have been born with a filter? I mean, it’s the Myers’s hot-bloodedness that causes me to fire off like I do. It’s out of my control. I probably need to get Doc Tatum to run one of them brain scans on me. It might be good to have in case we have to stand trial and I need an insanity plea.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I half laughed unenthusiastically, hoping to show my friend her concerns were unfounded. Deep down though, my insides were doing flip-flops. What could Eddie really do if Betsy and I were skillfully framed? And if anyone could put the nail in our coffins, it would be Detective Thornton. All he needed was a reason to believe we were guilty, and he could put the whole case to bed. He’d been accused of framing jobs in the past, by people I trusted.

  We’d settled into silence, the sounds of forced chewing and swallowing nearly deafening. A knock at the door startled both of us.

  “Probably some reporter. I better not go anywhere near them.” Betsy wiped her mouth with a napkin. “They’ll get me mad and I’ll convict myself.”

  “Just answer ‘no comment’ whenever they start pestering you. Don’t let them bait you. Walk away, or you could say, ‘Direct all questions to my attorney.’ ” We ignored the knocks until the doorbell began to ring incessantly. Whoever it was had no intention of giving up.