Bed & Breakfast Bedlam (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

On the ride home, Miss Vivee was quiet. I
think she felt like we’d run into a dead end. She’d asked him the name of the
strip club and where in Atlanta it was located, but he said initially that he
couldn’t remember. Miss Vivee had got its general location but no more. It
seemed that Colin didn’t want to gossip about Gemma’s fall into disgrace.

And although I did talk to him by asking a
question or two, I know I didn’t do anything close to flirting. Unless he could
read my mind, and saw the little fringes of jealousy that eked out when he talked
about Gemma, he had no idea how I felt.

I’m just so much of a bookworm. No social
skills. I looked at Miss Vivee. She was chewing her bottom lip, lost in thought.
I should be more like her, I thought. Be brave. Take charge . . . Take chances.

Did I have that in me?

I shook those thoughts out of my head and
exhaled loudly. Miss Vivee glanced at me and gave me a half-smile that showed
her mind was preoccupied. I decided not to say anything about her
“investigation” ending. I didn’t want to upset her more.

“A strip club?” she said it out of the
blue. We had turned the corner down her street. “Lord Almighty.” She shook her
head. It was the first time she’d spoke since we left Colin’s.

“Unbelievable, huh?”

 “Yes. Unbelievable.” She let out a long
breath. “Looks like we’re going to Atlanta.”

“What? No! We can’t go to Atlanta.” I
turned and looked at her. This was a good a time as any to start taking charge.
“Why would we go to Atlanta?” I asked.

“To investigate, Sweetie Pie.” She winked
her eye. “We got to find out if Gemma Burke did something to somebody up there.
Enough something to make them want to come down here and kill her?”

“We’re going to go and find a killer?” I
said and pulled in front of the Maypop.

“Well ain’t that what we set out to do
from the beginning?” She smiled and patted my arm. “You’re not getting cold
feet on me now are you?”

This taking charge, being bolder thing was
not working with Miss Vivee. She may have had more experience at it than me,
but I wasn’t going to give up.

 “No. I’m not getting cold feet,” I said. “It’s
just that Atlanta is such a big place. And as you would say, it’ll be like
finding a needle in a haystack.”

 “No it’s not, Sugar,” she said. “Because
we know just where to look.”

With all this calling me “sweetie pie” and
“sugar,” I knew trying to win a fight with Miss Vivee over this idea of hers
was going to be an uphill battle.

All I could do was pray for strength.

* * * * * *

Monday
Morning, AGD

Renmar had got wind of our “alleged” trip.
Only she thought that we were going to Augusta. Miss Vivee had evidently told
her that she wanted to go to a movie and dinner and stay overnight at a hotel
in the “big city.” But instead of questioning Miss Vivee about it, Renmar
decided to give me the third degree.

“What movie are you going to see . . .
Which hotel are you staying in . . . Are you and mother staying in the same
room?”

I had walked into the kitchen on Renmar,
Brie and Hazel sitting around the large table drinking coffee. Renmar started
shooting out questions before I could grab a cup. But I didn’t have a chance to
answer her barrage of questions before she finally threw up her hands. “I’ve
tried talking to her,” she said. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Me too,” Brie replied. “But she won’t
listen.”

“To anyone,” Renmar said. She took a sip
of her coffee.

“I don’t know about anyone,” Hazel Cobb
said. “She’s cozied up to our little Miss Archaeologist.” Hazel rubbed my back
and smiled at me.

“She definitely doesn’t listen to me,” I
said. I walked over and grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it up with
coffee. I had already spent all my breath trying to talk her out of it.

“Have you tried to talk her out of going?”
Renmar asked seemingly as if she’d heard my thoughts. “I know she has these big
plans. But Augusta is twenty-five miles away. If anything happened I’d have to
try and get all the way up there to see about her.”

I stirred cream and sugar into my coffee
and lifted it up to my mouth.

And Atlanta,
I thought watching
Renmar over the rim of my cup,
where she really wants to go, is one hundred
forty five miles away
.
Surprise!

 “Why does she have to go all the way up
there?” Brie asked.

“I don’t know,” I lied. And then I tried
to explain how usually Miss Vivee doesn’t tell me anything and I just follow
her directions. Do what I’m told, I said, which was basically the truth. I also
threw in that my mother taught to mind my manners and respect my elders,
especially people as old as Miss Vivee, however old that was. With their southern
gentility, I’d knew Renmar and Brie would appreciate that and stop questioning
me.

“My mother has a tendency to bite off more
than she can chew,” Renmar said her voice softer, seemingly giving me some
reprieve. “So I’ve told her that she can’t go.”

Hazel laughed. “And you think that’ll
work?”

“Well, she can’t go if she doesn’t have a
ride,” Renmar said and eyed me.

“Oh please.” I put my cup down on the
table. “Please don’t put me in the middle of it,” I said. “Please.” I looked at
Renmar, begging with my eyes. “Plus, I’ve already tried to talk her out of it.
I don’t want to feel as if I’m being disrespectful.”

“Well, just try to talk her out of it,
Logan. Again. For me. And if that doesn’t work, I won’t blame you.” She threw
up her hands. “How can I? If she doesn’t listen to me, her own daughter, I
surely can’t expect her to listen to you.”

“I’ll try,” I said. The four of us talked
and sipped on coffee. Once I finished my coffee and put the mug in the sink I
said, “So where is she? I’ve looked all over the house for her.”

“She’s out back. In her greenhouse. Where
she used to spend all her days.” Renmar looked at me, frustration in her eyes.
“I didn’t mean anything by that towards you. It’s just that she’s got the bug
now. Can’t sit still. Used to be I couldn’t get her to go anywhere, now I can’t
keep her home.”

I gave a “What can you do?” look and
headed out the back door.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The backyard was huge. It went on for what
looked like a couple of acres. In the five days I’d been staying at the Maypop,
I hadn’t even realized that there was a backyard, let alone something that
looked like this. Miss Vivee would definitely say that that proved I had no
detecting skills.

How could I have missed all of this?

There was patio area, with a fire pit,
fireplace, gas grill and colorful furniture. A three car garage and carport. Flowers
were everywhere, and Miss Vivee’s greenhouse was the size of a small cabin. But
what made it the best backyard I’d ever seen was that there was a miniature putt-putt
golf course right smack dab in the middle of it.

I followed a stone path to the greenhouse
and cupping my hands, I put my face up to the glass and peered in. I could see
Miss Vivee inside working on her plants.

I had decided to try again to talk Miss
Vivee out of going to Atlanta. Not just because Renmar had asked me to, but
because I was sure that there was no way we were ever going to solve Gemma’s
murder, anyway. And no way, in a night club of ill-repute, were we going to
find answers to who killed her, if she had even been killed.

I knocked on the door, opened it and went
in. A bombardment of odors went of my nose and made my head swirl.

I could smell lavender, honeysuckle, rosemary,
sage, roses, lilies and so many other things that I didn’t have any idea what
they were.

“Wow. Smells good in here,” I said and
smiled. Miss Vivee had on her rubber boots, one of her signature coats and her
hair pinned up at the back of her head. Cat was resting at her feet. “So who
plays golf?” I asked.

“I do,” she said. She was pruning and
repotting several plants she had on a workstation that she was standing in
front of. “And I’m much better at it than that little putt-putt course would
lead on,” she said pointing her head toward it.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Missy. I’ve
lived a long time.” She eyed me. “So what you up to?”

“Nothing,” I said. And walked around the
tables overflowing with plants that filled the greenhouse. “Just thought I’d
come and see you,” I said. I touched a leaf of a purple passionflower plant and
leaned over and inhaled.
Maypop
, I thought and smiled. “I didn’t know
you grew plants?”

“I grow some plants for healing. Some I
grow for enjoyment. Without looking up, she said, “There’s a lot of things that
you don’t know about me.”

“I see,” I said. “What kind of healing do
you do?”

“I practice voodoo.”

“What?” I said and stopped dead in my
tracks. “Unbelievable.” I shook my head and starting walking around again. “A
golfing voodoo doctor.”

“Voodoo herbalist,” she corrected.

I walked over to where she stood and saw
cabinets that lined the wall filled with dried herbs and bottles labeled with
what was inside.

“How did you learn all of this?” I asked.

“Louis Colquett. At least he got me
started.”

“Bay’s father taught you all about this?”

“Mmm hmmm. Some of it. Louis introduced me
to it although I had always used roots and plants to help those with ailments
from the time I was young. When I was coming up they didn’t have bottled
medicines, you know. But, then, after he showed me different things, I took a
trip to New Orleans.” She looked over me. “I lived there for about five years.
Studied under a voodoo queen.”

“Really? I knew I should be afraid of
you.”

“Don’t worry, Honeybun. I like you,” she
said grinning.

“Sooo. Can’t you do some spell, or
something, and divine the murderer?” I thought I may as well get to the matter
at hand – talking Miss Vivee out of going to Atlanta.

“Doesn’t work like that.” She glanced at
me. “Can’t solve murders like that. At least with any powers I have. You have
to deduce who the murderer is from clues.”

“Oh,” I said wondering how I was ever
going to talk her out of looking for clues.

“So what do we know so far?” Miss Vivee
asked, evidently ready to start using her powers to deduce.

 “Not enough to know what killed her or
who did it,” I said. I went over and sat on a high stool next to where she
stood.”

“I already know
what
killed her.”

“Are you ever going to share that with
me?” I asked.

“In due time,” she replied. “In due time.”

I huffed. “Okay. Let’s see. Suspects:
Renmar Colquett.” I started counting on my fingers. “Jeffery Beck. Miranda
Beck. Who by the way,” I noted. “We know nothing about.”

“Keep going.”

“Uhm, oh, the roommate, Koryn Razner.” I
glanced down at my finger and up to Miss Vivee. “I think that’s it.”

She nodded in agreement.

“And we know,” I continued. “That Gemma
was killed either at the park or at her house. Or anywhere past the Jellybean
Café and between those two places and here, or somewhere else that could
include the entire town.”

I’m sure I was being too sarcastic for
Miss Vivee because by the time I finished she had a scowl on her face.

 “Renmar thinks I shouldn’t take you to
Atlanta, although
she
thinks we’re going to Augusta.” I said deciding to
just come out with it. “She said she’s going to have to put her foot down and
insist that you don’t go.”

Vivee lifted an eyebrow. “Did she now?”

“Yep. She did.” I got up and walked to her
shelf of herbs and picked up a bottle filled with a pretty sparkling orange
powder. “So, I’m thinking that we won’t be going to Atlanta and checking out
that strip bar.”

“Be careful with that. It could kill you.”

I put the bottle with the pretty sparkling
orange powder back on the shelf – gingerly.

“She also said that you always bite off
more than you can chew. So translating that into terms of solving this thing
about Gemma – well, I was thinking, it might be a bit much for you. I’m sure
she would say that, besides the fact, we’re not supposed to be doing it. Renmar
told me that all of this going out is just too much for you.”

That last part may not have been what she
said, exactly, but I had to try.

“Well, aren’t you the little instigator?”
Miss Vivee said.

“Me?” I frowned my brow.
This little
plan seemed to be backfiring.
“I’m not instigating. I’m just telling you
what she said.” I went back and sat on the stool, and fiddled with some dirt
that was scattered on her workstation. “And I think maybe she’s right. We
haven’t gotten the autopsy report back yet and we’ve hit a snag with finding
out that it may be someone in Atlanta that committed the crime.” I looked at
her out the side of my eyes. “
If
a crime was committed.”

“Gemma Burke was murdered. Mark my words
on that. And that’s what that autopsy report will read when it gets back.” She
seemed to be working up an anger. “And I don’t care what Renmar thinks about me.
I
can
figure this thing out. And I
will
figure it out. I’m not
feeble minded you know. I do my crossword puzzles, Sudoku and all those little
brain exercises to keep my mind sharp.” She tightened her lips. “Not that I need
to.”

I hadn’t meant to upset her. Maybe, I
thought, I should make her understand what I mean. “She didn’t say -” I started
but she interrupted.

“I don’t care what she said,” Vivee hissed
out the words. “I know what I saw. I know what happened to that girl.”

“Well, that may be all that we’ll ever be
able to know about it,” I said. “You certainly can’t go to Atlanta and find out
anything. It’s too far and you wouldn’t know where to start.”

“You listen here, Missy.” She gripped her
pruning shears a little tighter and pointed them at me. “Don’t tell me what I
can and can’t do. I was grown before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s eye.
Hell, before
he
was a twinkle in
his
daddy’s eye.” She threw the
shears on her table and started pounding on the dirt that surrounded the plant.
“I’ll go to Atlanta if I want to. You best believe that. And pay no mind to
what Renmar says . . . or thinks. She don’t know jack about what I’m capable
of. She thinks I didn’t kill her husband.”

My eyes got big. “You killed her husband?”

Vivee’s face went from anger, to surprise,
to sheepish. “Don’t you ever say a word to anyone,” she let out in a squeak.
“I’ll deny I ever said that. Not a word.” She pointed her finger at me. “You
hear me? I know how you like to stir up trouble.”

I laughed. “No I don’t like to ‘stir’ up
trouble.”

“I ain’t so sure.” She sang the words.

“I won’t say anything to anyone. I
promise. But you did say it,” I said. “You said you killed Renmar’s husband.”

“I guess I let that cat outta the bag,
huh?”

“Does that mean you killed her husband?”

Miss Vivee bowed her head and closed her
eyes. She was quiet for a long moment.

“Not exactly” she finally said after a
long sigh. “And not mostly.”

“But?” I held out my hands questioningly.
She bit her bottom lip. “What, Miss Vivee? What in the world does ‘not mostly’
mean?”

“Means that the ‘most’ part of him dying I
had nothing to do with.”

“You have to tell me what you mean.”

“Only if you take me to Atlanta.”