Bed & Breakfast Bedlam (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 1) (16 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Friday
Morning, AGD

Miss Vivee was extra nice to me (not that
she’d ever been even a little nice to me before) when she found out I was going
with Bay to South Carolina. She tried to tell me what to wear and how to comb
my hair.

“Miss Vivee,” I said. “We’re going to
catch a killer not to prom. I don’t have to get all made up.”

We were sitting in the dining room. I was
waiting for Bay and the Sheriff. They had decided to take two cars. The Sheriff
would take his car in case they were bringing Darius back to put him in jail. And
Bay would take his car for the two of us. I was not looking forward to riding
with Bay for the hour or so there and then that same time back.

“Well you look like you’re on your way to
hike up a hill. I was thinking you could charm a confession out of that Darius
Hamilton,” Miss Vivee said. She puckered up her lips. “You’d need on a little
lipstick for that.” She held up her tube of the pink she’d worn to the strip
club.

I waved her hand away. “I don’t know what
you’re up to Miss Vivee, but we both know that I’m not going to be doing any
talking. I’m just going because your grandson, officer of the law that he is,
blackmailed me into it.”

“He did no such thing,” she said.

“He did too. He told me if I didn’t go
he’d take me back to Gainesville, toss me in jail, and throw away the key.”

She laughed.

I don’t know how she thought that was
funny.

“It’s not funny,” I said. “You and your
family are a bunch of criminals.”

Bay walked in. “And who are
you
calling a criminal,” he said.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear me say
that,” I said.

“Leave her alone, Bay.” Miss Vivee stood
up. “Give your old grandmother a hug.”

He happily obliged. But he was so tall he
had to bend down almost halfway to hug her. “Mornin’, Grandmother.”

“Mornin.’ Now you two, go catch a killer,”
Miss Vivee said patting his arm. “And you, Missy,” she wagged a finger at me.
“Call me as soon as Bay talks to that low-life killer. I want to know
everything that happens.”

“We’ll call you, Grandmother,” Bay said.
“Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Grandson,” Miss Vivee said and
pulled him back down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Okay,” Bay said looking at me. “You
ready?”

“Yep.”

“Good,” he said and smiled. “You look
nice.”

I looked down at my khaki cargo shorts,
white tank top and tennis shoes. “Thanks,” I said, tugging down on my baseball
cap with “I
♥
to Dig” inscribed
across the top. I winked at Miss Vivee.

We walked out to get in Bay’s car and I
noticed it was the same car my father had. A Cadillac SRX. Same make. Same
model. Same color.

“Is this the car you’ve had since you’ve
been down here?” I asked.

“Yep.”

Why hadn’t I noticed before?

“Is it your car?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Why?”

Man, my daddy would love this. Me hanging
out with a guy who has his same taste.

“No reason,” I said and hopped in.

As soon as we hit the highway, I reached
over and turned down the music. “So. I’ve been wondering,” I said. “Why did you
follow me down to Yasamee?”

“That’s my job. I track down criminals.”

I sucked my tongue against the roof of my
mouth.

He tapped my arm. “I was just kidding.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I was already on my way to Yasamee.” He
glanced over at me and then back at the road, seemingly wanting to explain.
“When I got the call to check out Track Rock Gap, I was already on my way to
Yasamee for a visit.”

“Really?” I laughed. “Nobody in the entire
world would believe that. It’s just too coincidental. You stopped in
Gainesville where I just happened to be . . .” I looked at him. “Minding my own
business and then you just happened to come to Yasamee after I told you I was
coming to Stallings Island?”

“Yep. I guess that’s the way it happened.
Although what you were doing at Track Rock Gap
is
technically my
business.”

I exhaled noisily. “That’s too much of a
coincidence.”

“Maybe it wasn’t coincidence.” He glanced
at me and smiled. “Maybe it was fate,” he said.

“I’m in love with Colin Pritchard.”

“The deputy?”

“Like your grandmother asked me once: ‘Do
you know another Colin Pritchard?’”

“No,” he said. “I sure don’t.” He bit down
on his lip. “But you’re kidding, right?”

“Well that’s the plan,” I said. “Me be in
love with him. He be in love with me. He doesn’t know about my plan yet,
though.”

“Why do you have this plan?”

“Because I think he’s cute,” I said.

“In a dumb sort of way, right?”

I chuckled.

“What about me?” he asked. “You think I’m
cute?”

“No.”

 “Yeah,” he said nodding his head. “I’m
definitely going to have to give a visit to Grandmother’s greenhouse. Whip up a
love potion.”

“You’d never get me to drink that.”

“I’d put it in one of my mother’s fruit
cups. She told me how you ‘gobbled’ those down. Or did she use the word ‘demolished?’
I can’t remember the word, but I do remember envisioning a lion tearing into
its prey, teeth ripping into flesh, ravaging on its remains.”

“Oh my.” I rubbed my hand across my
forehead. “How embarrassing.” I scrunched up my nose. “You know one of you are
always telling me what the other one said. Do you guys sit and talk about me
when I’m not around?”

“Yep. We do. My grandmother actually gave
me the idea of cooking up a love potion the last time we talked about you,” he said
and started grinning.

“Speaking of potions, do you mind if I ask
you a question.”

“No. I don’t mind.” He glanced at me. “For
you, I’m an open book.”

“I was wondering about your father,” I
said ignoring his “open book” comment.

Miss Vivee had told me that she helped
Louis Colquett “pass over,” as she put it, when we got back from Atlanta just
as she promised. But it was at his request she’d said. It wasn’t that I didn’t
believe her, it was just that people thought Miss Vivee capable of such things,
and I wanted to know what Bay thought, especially since he was being so “open”
with me.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said.
“But what do you remember about your father’s death?”

He shot a glance at me, then didn’t say
anything for a little while. “My father was in a lot of pain. He had cancer
that just ravaged his body. Every breath he took hurt.” He seemed to drift off
in thought, his eyes maybe even misty.

“I know why you’re asking,” he said. “Some
people say my grandmother killed him. But she loved him like he was her son.
And I know that my grandmother, if she had it in her power, would never let him
keep suffering like that. My mother, deep down somewhere knows that too. But
when people accuse my grandmother of, well, uhm, you know, my mother defends
her to the end.” He looked at me. “One thing Miss Vivee taught me, especially
since I was the only black kid around, was never to be ashamed of who you are.
And she was certainly never ashamed to be the Voodoo Herbalist Priestess of
Yasamee. And I’m glad she is because she used her powers to help my dad.”

I nodded my head, but didn’t say anything.

“So does that answer your question?”

“Yep,” I said and smiled.

“Good,” he said. “Now let’s talk about
us.”

Us?

Thank goodness I was saved by the bell.
Bay’s phone rang just at that awkward moment. Looking at the screen he said,
“It’s the Sheriff.” He swiped his finger across it to accept the call. “I have
to take this.”

While he spoke to the Sheriff I wondered
what had gotten into him, all the flirting he was doing. And then I remembered
how he always flashed that smirk of his when he’d talk to me.
It’d had been
kind of flirtatious.
I adjusted myself in my seat and stared at him. His
eyes on the road, concentrating on his phone call.
Hmmm . . .

I let my eyes roam taking him in. I realized
I never noticed how handsome he was. He had smooth, honey-colored skin, piercing
hazel eyes, and long thick eyelashes. His close cut, coal black hair was wavy.
I
wonder how it feels.
I lifted up my hand toward his head. He glanced at me.
I put my hand back down. I watched him speaking into the phone, his full lips
moving as he talked, suddenly it made me want to bite – no – nibble on them and
. . .  His voice was so sultry. He stuck his tongue out and ran it slowly
across his bottom lip . . .

Oh. My.

And he smells so good.

I leaned over, closed my eyes and sniffed.
Mmmmm.

What is that?

When I opened my eyes he was looking at
me, phone to ear, his scrunched up face asking “what’s wrong with you?” I
coughed pretending something was in my throat.

I shook my head. There definitely was no
“us” and there never would be. I bit down on my own lip and wondered how in the
world I was going to get away from him.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Melborne,
South Carolina

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
he said. He sat at the end of the table in the interrogation room dressed in a
gray T-shirt and blue jeans.  He was leaning back, one leg pushed out straight,
his arms crossed over his chest. His hair was scraggly, as was the stubble on
his face. His skin was reddish from too much sun and he looked like he hadn’t
slept in a week.

Now he looked like a murderer to me.

We (as in me, too) were talking to Darius
Hamilton, alleged killer of one Miss Gemma Burke. Only he was denying it with
all the fervor of a man unjustly accused. The Sheriff’s call to Bay had been to
inform him that Former Mayor Daddy was bringing Naughty Killer Son over to the
police station for questioning. We’d have the protection of the entire Melborne
police department and Darius Hamilton’s father.

Sheriff Haynes didn’t go into the
interrogation room with Bay. That would probably work out fine because if
Darius was the killer, and he had fled over state lines, Bay as a federal
officer had legal jurisdiction.

The Melborne sheriff really meant it when
he told Sheriff Haynes that they would cooperate fully. That also meant I got
to hear what Darius Hamilton had to say. Bay and I agreed that it was too bad
that Miss Vivee hadn’t come. She’d have been overjoyed to watch Gemma’s
murderer captured all thanks to her investigative work.

“We know you were in Yasamee last Friday.”
Bay locked eyes with him. “We also know that you tried to blackmail Gemma Burke,”
he spoke accusatorily.

Former Mayor Daddy was sitting in the
small room behind the glass with me, the sheriffs and two other deputies. He let
out a gasp as soon as the accusation came out of Bay’s mouth about his son’s
criminal activity.

“Well, I didn’t blackmail her. So tell her
that it’s not a crime to come to see a person.”

“I can’t tell her anything,” Bay said.

“Well bring her in here,” Darius said
waving his arms around, “and I’ll have my father tell her. He’s a lawyer and he
knows the law even if you people over in Yasamee don’t.”

Bay looked at the one-way mirror. He
couldn’t see through it, but it was obvious he was looking at us. He pulled out
a chair and sat down. “Darius, you know why we’re here. Let’s not play games. Gemma
is dead.”

“Dead?” Darius’s chair screeched across
the floor as he pushed it back. He stood up and walked to a corner of the room.
“No,” he said and turned around looking at Bay pleadingly. “No. Not Gemma.”

“She died last Friday.”

“How?”

“I think you know how, Darius. And it
would go a lot better for you if you just cooperated and tell me about it. I
don’t have time to play your little games.”

Darius’ eyes got wide. He walked back to
his seat as if he were in a shock. “You think I killed her?” he said slowly. “I
killed Gemma?”

“Yes you did. And I’m glad you’re willing
to admit it.”

“No.” His whole face frowned up. “I’m not
admitting to anything. I didn’t kill her.”

“C’mon, Darius,” Bay said and opened up
the folder he had laid on the table. “Joy riding. Disorderly Conduct. Assault.
Oh wait, those last charges never made it into court.” Bay looked over at the
mirror and it made Former Mayor Daddy fidget. “You’ve got a criminal record.
Small things but then you stepped it up, didn’t you? Looks like you having help
getting out of trouble just led you to believe you could get away with whatever
you wanted to do. Say for instance, murder?”

Darius’ father huffed and puffed at Bay’s
line of questioning. The Sheriff of Melborne had to calm him down.

“None of those things say murderer,”
Darius protested and jabbed his finger on the folder. “And I am
not
a
murderer.” He hung his head, it seemed as if he was going to cry. “I loved
Gemma. I would never hurt her.”

“Tell me what happened when you spoke to
Gemma in Yasamee,” Bay said.

“I didn’t talk to her.”

“Come now, Darius. I have witnesses that
say you came to Yasamee to talk to Gemma.”

“Yeah. I did. But I didn’t talk to her.”

“What did you come to talk to her about?”

This time it was Darius who looked at the
mirror. He knew his father was there listening and the look in his face said it
pained him to have to disappoint him.

“You were right. I did try to blackmail
her.”

“How?”

“Gemma worked at a strip club up in
Atlanta. That’s how we met. And yeah, we had our fights, but what couple
doesn’t, you know?”

“I understand that,” Bay said. “I know
exactly how women are. Hard to get along with.”

Was he talking about me?

Darius snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, so you
understand. Like I said, we argued, but I never laid a hand on her. I did mean
things to her, but I never hit her. Anyway,” he sniffed, “she was just about
finished with school when she met this guy. Jeffrey Beck. He was some big time
financial analyst or something like that.”

I took in a breath. Jeffrey Beck was the
one person that Miss Vivee couldn’t locate or find any information on.

“After she met him, she wanted to dump me.
Said that she wanted a different life and he was the one to give it to her.”

“Is that why you killed her.”

“No!” His eyes wide, he said, “I didn’t
kill her. I’m telling you. But that’s how I blackmailed her. She didn’t know
that this Mr. Fancy Pants charmer was married and had a kid. But I knew. I had
followed her after she quit working at Kitty City. She moved to Powder Springs.
And I used to watch her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no pervert. I just wanted to
see her. Talk to her. Try to get her back. That’s when I saw him.”

He stopped talking and Bay prompted him to
finish telling his story.

“So, how were you going to use that to
blackmail her?”

“I was going to tell her principal.”

I had a confused look on my face, as did
everyone else standing in the room with me, but not Bay. He kept talking and
asking questions just like he was on the same page as Darius.

“Go ahead,” Bay said.

“His kid was going to the same school
where Gemma worked. I saw him once picking him up when I was there watching for
Gemma.”

“What was the name of the school,” Bay
asked.

“Euclid Park. Gemma taught second grade,
and Jeffrey’s son, I found out, was in kindergarten. There’s no way she
could’ve kept her job if I told the school board that not only had she been a
stripper back in Atlanta, but she was dating the married father of one of the
students at the school. So I told her that if she came back to me, I wouldn’t
tell on her.”

“That was clever, Darius.”

“Yeah,” he said. He closed his eyes and
pulled his lips into a tight line. “But it backfired on me.”

“How?”

“Gemma up and quit the school and left
Powder Springs. She broke it off with Jeffrey and went back to Yasamee.”

“So if you didn’t have anything on her to
blackmail her with, why did you go to Yasamee?”

“I told you. I loved her.”

“Tell me what happened when you went to
see her,” Bay said.

“I went by her house but she wasn’t there.
I waited out front for five or ten minutes when I remembered that she jogged
during the day. I didn’t know where so I drove around until I found her.”

“What time was that?”

“Oh. I don’t know for sure. Around 11:45
or noon. Yeah, probably closer to twelve o’clock.”

“Is that when you killed her.”

“No!” Darius slammed his hand on the table
so hard it made me jump. “Stop saying that. I didn’t kill her.”

“Okay,” Bay said, not showing any emotion
at all. “Tell me what happened.”

“I found her at the park. She was talking
to a guy. Tall. Dark hair. And they were having an argument. I watched from a
distant, but I never got close to them.”

“Was it Jeffrey Beck?” Bay asked.

“I’m not sure. But I think so. Anyway.
They were having an argument. He seemed pretty mad, he hit his hand against a
tree. I thought he was going to hit her.”

“What did you do?”

“I left. I wasn’t going to get in the
middle of that.”

“You hit women, but when you see them
getting hit, you run?” Bay asked Darius.

“I told you!” Darius started yelling. “I
never hit, Gemma.”

“No,” Bay said calmly. “You just killed
her.”