Part 5 (1/2)
A sadness overcame me. ”North Carolina?”
”What's going on Cat? You look like you lost your best friend.”
”My mom told me she's taking the girls to Korea, and now you're leaving.” I swallowed hard. ”I'm feeling out of sorts, like something bad will happen if everyone leaves.”
”Now listen here, Cat keeping people under your nose is not going to prevent anything bad happening to them. Didn't you tell me that your parents took the boys to Korea when they were five?”
”Yes.”
”And they had a great time, right?”
I nodded. ”But that was another time, things have changed now. It's all different.”
Annie Mae placed her hand on my shoulder. ”No it's not. What's happening here I think, is that you are still blaming yourself for your father's death. And you are transferring all of that guilt in over protecting those close to you.”
”Wow that was deep,” I grinned.
”I minored in Psychology.”
”So where to now?” I drove my silver SUV. The air conditioner blasted, blending the smell of our fresh coffee with the bubble gum air freshener chosen by my girls.
”I've been thinking about this for a while. Bert killed Lucy. I just know it.” Annie Mae poured a few sugar packets into her coffee then used a red plastic stir stick.
”He has an alibi. Fis.h.i.+ng at James Cohen's lake home in North Carolina.”
”Yeah, right. But still I think we should double-check Bert's story. It's fishy.”
I chuckled. ”Why?”
”I don't know, but the way he was flirting with that redhead at Lucy's wake. It's just not right. Something is going on with him that we need to figure out.”
I drove east on DeRenne Avenue. ”Lucy told me Bert was taking v.i.a.g.r.a. She suspected that he had a lover.”
”Let's go to James' house. I'm looking it up right now.” Anne Mae tapped on her iPhone. ”Take a left on Bull Street.”
”What do we say to him?” I merged into the left lane. ”I don't want to sound rude or nosey.”
”Let me handle it.” Annie Mae dumped three creamers into her coffee.
Several minutes later, we pulled in front of our destination, parked, and climbed out.
”Ready?” Annie Mae asked. ”I'm all tingly and jittery. Probably because of all the excitement about sleuthing.”
”I think it's from all the sugar you had. My kids get that way, too.”
We walked in the sunny muggy morning. The eighty-degree heat promised a blistering afternoon. I felt my skin frying as my hair clung to the back of my neck.
Annie Mae pushed the door buzzer.
The green door opened, and a bald man with tiny eyes and a hunched back greeted us. He looked like a mole. ”What are you ladies selling?”
”Nothing. We're friends of Lucy Valentine.” I stuck out my hand. ”I'm Cat Thomson, and this is Annie Mae Maple.”
”I think I remember seeing you two at Lucy's funeral last week.” James shook our hands. He led us into his house. Smelling of beer and mothb.a.l.l.s, the living room was dark, cool, and decorated with fis.h.i.+ng memorabilia. A stuffed fish sat on a hallway table.
I began with, ”I'm really sorry about disturbing you, but we wanted to-”
Annie Mae interrupted. ”Find out if Bert's a liar.”
James's mouth fell open for a second.
I shot Annie Mae the look that I hoped said behave. ”What Annie Mae means is that we loved Lucy and want some closure about what happened to her.”
”She killed herself.” James walked into a sitting room. We followed.
”Whoa. Listen here, Jimmy.” Annie Mae got in his face. ”That's our friend you're talking about. Please show some respect.”
”Sorry. And it's James.” He moved away from Annie Mae and stood looking at fis.h.i.+ng trophies on the fireplace mantel. ”I don't know what I can do to help, but I have a few minutes. What do you need?”
Annie Mae picked up a trophy. ”Well, it would be nice if you could tell us about the fis.h.i.+ng trip you and Bert were on the day Lucy died.”
”Um, yes. The trip.” James studied his thumbnail. ”We were up at my lake house in North Carolina.”
”Did anyone go with you?” I asked.
”Two buddies.” James looked at the back of his hand.
I remember Lucy saying Bert went with three of his friends, so that would mean a total of four. James now said it was only two plus him. Three. ”Who were they?”
”Me, Smitty, and Guy,” James said.
”No one else?” I asked.
”Nah.” James cracked his knuckles.
I got right in front of him, eye to eye. My kids could not lie if I looked them in the eyes. ”No Bert?”
James avoided eye contact as he ran his finger along the edge of the mantel. ”I mean there were, uh, four of us, including me and Bert, of course. I forgot to add myself.”
”First place, huh?” Annie Mae read the trophy in her hand. ”James, you're quite the sportsman.”
”And I got another first place a week ago.” James picked up a folded newspaper on the end table and handed it to me.
It was the last page of the North Carolina Times sports section dated a week ago. Two guys I didn't recognize wore fis.h.i.+ng vests and wader pants. They must have been Smitty and Guy. They stood next to a grinning James, who held a fish by its tail. The picture credit read Rex Mallard, staff photographer. Annie Mae looked over my shoulder at the picture.
”That's a huge fish,” I said to James.