Read Demise in Denim Online

Authors: Duffy Brown

Demise in Denim (21 page)

Hoping for a little more business, I stayed open till seven
before closing up. I headed for a shower and peeked under the vanity to the gaping hole I'd left in back and nearly forgotten about. I wondered where Boone was now. I doubted he was in the attic, but he wasn't far away, I just knew it, I could feel it.

I pulled on white capris and a navy top and pilfered a bouquet of roses and hydrangeas from KiKi's garden. No Southern woman would show up to tea and cookies empty handed, but expensive florist flowers were out of the question.

“Well, aren't you the sweetest thing to be bringing me flowers,” Steffy Lou said when she answered the door. “I do declare, after the day I've had, they surely are a lovely sight.”

“This is an amazing home,” I said to Steffy Lou as we headed to the back of the house. The place wasn't all that big, but every nook and cranny was done to perfection with just the right antique, painting, or expensive acquisition. “Is the house really as haunted as they say?”

“Oh my, yes, shadows and noises all the time; it certainly is haunted and probably going to get worse before it gets better.” Steffy Lou put the flowers on the tea table, then turned around with a lovely Southern belle smile on her face and a gun in her hand. “Now why don't you take a seat over there by Tucker. He's a little drunk and he's passed out at the moment, but that's all part of the plan. The fact that he overindulged and had a hissy at your place was just an extra bonus I hadn't counted on.”

I didn't move, I couldn't. I just stared at Tucker Adkins slumped over in a gorgeous peach brocade wingback chair next to a piecrust cherry table set with a silver tea service
and cookies. Steffy Lou gave me a hard shove. “Move along now, ya hear?” She waved her gun toward a matching peach chair. “These were my dear grandmother's. She left them to me in her will. They were owned by Robert E. Lee himself, and Tucker intended to sell them to pay off his marina. Fact is, he intended to sell my house here and move me out to the wilds of some godforsaken marsh so he could afford his boats. I gave up everything for him. I gave up Broadway, I gave up the theater, until I get one of my own on Tybee.”

“You . . . you killed Conway!” I sat in the peach chair mostly because I couldn't stand.

“I had to, dear, you can understand that. Mr. Financial Wizard is in hock up to his eyeballs. Conway cut us off and then left the cash in his estate to that clinic place and the inn to Walker. I had to fix things. I even had Harper helping me out by planting those pictures in Boone's house and setting that fire at the theater to drum up support.”

“And she spiked my drink? I could have killed my own auntie!”

“That was the plan. Then Harper got greedy and planned to blackmail me. She had to go.”

I took a deep breath. “You killed Conway, framed Walker, so Tucker will inherit the inn?”

“And now dear Tucker has to go. If he gets the inn he'll sell it to save his marina. If I get the inn, I sell it and the money goes to save the theater, a true philanthropic endeavor. And the bonus is that I can sell his marina to pay the mortgage on my lovely home here. It's a perfect plan, you see.”

“You just can't kill Tucker. People will know, and why am I part of this?”

“You just don't get it, do you? You're the worm on the hook. Where you go, Walker goes, and of course he has to die. Conway, Walker, Tucker, then me, that's how the inn gets passed on. It has to wind up with me.”

Steffy Lou looked at the hall clock as it bonged out the half hour. “And it's just a matter of time now before Walker shows up. I left a little note taped to your door that says Tucker's the killer, like you figured it out all by yourself. Walker the wonder boy is going to come looking for Tucker, thinking you've gotten in over your head like you always do and not suspect a thing when he sees me.”

“Hey, I do not always get in over my head.”

“Look where you're sitting, dear. I'll simply shoot Walker with Tucker's gun and make it look as if Tucker did the deed, then had brother's remorse and took his own life. Messy, but all good drama is terribly messy. After it's all over I'll go retrieve my note.”

“Why would anyone think Boone would come here? He's a wanted man, there's a price on his head.”

“And Tucker put that price on his head to try to get Walker in jail quick so he could get the inn. The way people will see this is that Walker is a distraught individual. He's already killed the father who abandoned him, so it makes perfect sense that he'd go after the brother who cheated him out of everything. You're collateral damage. You came to keep Boone, the man you love, from making a terrible mistake and got caught in the crossfire.”

“What crossfire?”

“Honey, he's coming to save you; he'll have a gun.”

“And you'll be the witness to all this.”

“I'm a performer; I could have been on the New York stage.
I am magnificent!
” Steffy Lou squared her shoulders and tipped her chin, and if she burst forth with “Give My Regards to Broadway” I'd strangle her with my own two hands, the consequences be damned.

A weapon, I needed a weapon. There were tea and cookies, a fire poker just beyond, and a quick shadow in the mirror over the mantel. Here's the thing, it could be Boone, meaning I'd have backup if I tried something. Or it could be one of the infamous Hampton Lillibridge ghosts. Never in all my born days did I think my life would depend on ghost or no ghost.

“I think I'd like some tea,” I said to Steffy Lou, my heart pinballing around in my chest.

“Last meal and all, help yourself.”

I picked up the teapot. Steffy Lou looked back to the clock, and I took the lid off the pot and threw it in Tucker's face. He jumped awake, blubbering and drooling. Steffy Lou looked to him and I jumped on her as Boone tore in the back door. The gun went off; a vase of immaculate white magnolia blooms blasted into the air as we wrestled Steffy Lou to the floor.

“Let me go,” she yelled. “I have to save the theater, it's my destiny.”

I handed Boone a gold tasseled window tieback for Steffy Lou's wrists and laughed. “You're not a ghost.”

“I think I've come close a few times this week.” Boone laughed back, fatigue melting from his face.

I leaned back against the blue love seat, with Boone beside me. Tucker staggered awake, rubbed his eyes, and
tried to focus. “Walker. What are you doing in my house? I've had enough of this. I'm calling the cops.”

“Tucker, for once in your life do something,” Steffy Lou bellowed as Deckard barged through the front door, with Ross right beside him.

Arms spread, I jumped up in front of Boone in full defensive mode yelling, “He's innocent, He's innocent! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!”

All smiles, Boone stood up next to me. “They know, blondie.” He put his arm around me. “It's okay. They know it's a setup just like I knew.”

I watched the uniformed cops haul the arguing Steffy Lou and Tucker out the door, and I looked from Ross to Deckard to Boone. “I don't get it. Why didn't I know it was a setup?”

“That's because you didn't see the note on the front door,” Deckard shrugged. “
Walker, it's Tucker.
Steffy Lou might just as well have written
I did it
.”

“Because?”

“Because you never ever call me Walker.”

“Boone,” I said on a breath.

“The note said
Tucker
,” Boone added. “So it wasn't Tucker, and the only other person living here who would want us to get here is Steffy Lou. Once I had the name it all made sense. I figured it was just a matter of time before Deckard got that search warrant, and he saw the note, too.”

“And you,” Ross said to Boone with a big grin on her face, “can go home.”

Boone stood there for a second taking it all in. Then he smiled and took my hand, and we walked outside into the perfect spring night.

“Now what do we do for fun?” I asked as we ambled along.

Boone picked up a corner of his frayed hoodie, sniffed, and made a face. “For starters I need a shower, and the next thing I'm going to do is burn these jeans.”

“Well, Mr. Walker Boone.” I took hold of his sweatshirt and gazed up into his oh-so-handsome face. “You just happen to own a really nice inn about two blocks away. Bet there's a vacancy.” I kissed him, savoring the feel of his lips on mine. “I have to tell you, I could do with a vacancy right now, maybe longer than now? A week?”

Boone kissed me this time, as my toes curled against my flip-flops, my heart dancing. “I want more.”

“Okay, a month.” My mouth laughed against his. “It's a really nice inn with a terrific view, wonderful breakfast, the valet's a super guy. You're going to like this inn, I promise.”

“I want you.” Boone smoothed back my hair, starlight in his eyes. “I can't imagine life without you. My life would be a bore without you in it. You're the one, Reagan Lee Summerside, the only one, and I want us to be together forever. Marry
me?”

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