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When I walked into the police station, Evelyn tapped away at her computer as a girl who appeared to be in her late teens complained about the cost of a speeding ticket. By the set of Evelyn’s mouth, I could see she wasn’t in the mood to hear the complaint.
While I waited, I listened to the scanner on Evelyn’s desk. The only breaking news was that a traffic signal near the hospital wasn’t working, and officers were on the way to direct traffic.
Finally, stone-faced, the girl paid the fine and pranced out.
As soon as she’d left, Evelyn met my eyes and lowered her voice. “Guess we’ll never get to stop explaining to eighteen-year-olds that going sixty-five in a thirty-five zone is indeed speeding.” She shook her head. “So, what brings you here today?”
“Nothing I was out looking for. I promise you that. For some reason, I received anonymous information about the late Miranda Hor—Hargrove, and I thought the police department might want to see it, since it could be relevant to the case.” I explained about finding the copy of Miranda’s résumé at my back door the previous day.
“Oh yeah, they’ll want to talk to you for sure.” Evelyn used the eraser of her yellow pencil to tap three numbers on the phone. “Hey, Alan, it’s Evelyn, and I’ve got someone up here you’re going to want to talk to. It’s Emma Madison, and... Yes, actually, it is about the murder investigation. Anyway, I’m going to send her down to your office, okay? Thanks.”
She looked up at me. “He’s expecting you, so go on back.”
I thanked her and headed down the hall, biting my lip like a naughty child headed to the principal’s office. I hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, I was there to do something right. I had no reason to feel nervous.
When I got to the detective’s office, he stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Funny, I could have sworn I just saw you last night.”
I rolled my eyes. “And last night, we were both busy with another matter entirely, as I recall.”
He humphed. “Evelyn tells me you have some information related to the Miranda Hargrove case?”
I shoved the blue-and-white mailer in front of him and pulled out the piece of paper. “This. It came to my house. I don’t know why. I don’t know who sent it. I thought you ought to have it.”
Why am I speaking like a robot?
He scanned the paper then looked up at me. “A résumé?”
“Mm-hmm. And from what I know about Miranda Hargrove, or Horgrave, apparently, this isn’t the background she claimed to have.”
“How do you know that?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Detective, you live in Roseland. Everybody knows everybody else’s business here. Miranda evidently got under a few people’s skin with her ‘New York’ ways, only it turns out she wasn’t from New York at all.”
The detective stuck a hand into his pocket and rattled some coins while his gaze scrolled over the résumé again. “Says she worked in retail previously. Interesting. Did you know that?”
I shook my head. “Like everyone else, I had no reason to question her background. We’ve certainly had pushy newcomers move here before, so that was nothing new.”
He peered back down at the paper. “You said you received this anonymously?”
“Mm-hmm. It was propped against my back door when I got back from running an errand yesterday.”
“And you didn’t see fit to mention this last night?”
I frowned. “I was rather preoccupied there at the Happy Hometown office, if you’ll recall.”
He humphed. “I’d like to keep the paper and the mailer, just in case whoever sent this has some connection to the case.”
“Be my guest.” I waved a hand as if dismissing both pieces of evidence—or possible evidence.
“So you have no idea why these were sent to you?” He squinted as if he thought I was holding back on him.
“Well, I...”
“Yes?”
“Look, I was a newspaper reporter for a few years, and everybody knows that all small-town reporters are basically cheap, low-rent celebrities. A lot of people know me. Maybe somebody remembered that and knew I would do something with this. Like share it with the newspaper, maybe.”
He nodded. “But you didn’t, right?”
“No, I came right here.”
“You didn’t mention it to anyone else?”
I took a deep breath. “I showed it to my boyfriend, but he suggested I get it to you as soon as possible. Which, by the way, I was already planning to do.”
“Okay, then.”
Having done what I’d gone there for, I was ready to leave. “So, is that it? That all you need from me?”
Detective Shelton stood from his desk. “I do have one more thing.”
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how I can make this any plainer, Emma, but you need to stop your amateur sleuthing—before someone gets hurt.”
“But I haven’t been—”
Detective Shelton’s baby-blue eyes turned dark and bored a hole through me. “I’m not sure what you’re doing and saying all over town, but once again, you’ve somehow ended up right in the middle of our investigation. I don’t know why others think you need to be the point person on this case, but need I remind you that there’s a penalty for interfering with a police investigation? And if I have to assign an officer to watch you twenty-four, seven to get you to back off, I’ll do it.”
Seething, I counted to five, because I didn’t have the patience to count to ten.
“If you're suggesting I asked for this information to be delivered to me, Detective Shelton, you're completely out of line, and I resent being blamed for something that literally showed up at my back door. If I happen to come across any other evidence, I'll certainly keep it to myself to avoid inconveniencing you.”
I whirled around and heard, “Emma, wait...”
Halfway down the hall by then, I couldn’t get out of that building fast enough. Evelyn had stepped away from her desk when I marched past, and I was glad she was gone. Too bad she had to work with such an arrogant, incompetent detective.
How dare he accuse me of involving myself in his precious case.
Outside the building, I was so rattled that I looked around and tried to remember where I was headed next. Since I’d silenced my cell phone while I was at the police department, I checked for messages and had one from Savannah, confirming that we were still on for lunch and asking whether I’d heard about some vandalism at the Happy Hometown office.
I wondered what had taken her so long to ask. It had already been more than twelve hours since Gerald was assaulted and the office was trashed.
I tapped a quick reply. Will fill you in at lunch. Mama’s Place at noon still okay?
Savannah replied with a thumbs-up.
With only ten minutes before time to meet her, I window-shopped the downtown stores and tried to clear my head.
What was I supposed to do with that information, Detective Shelton? Sit on it? Throw it away? That wouldn’t have been very bright.
Speaking of bright, the sparkle of gemstones distracted me from my replay of the morning’s events. Lamberson Jewelry had a sign up announcing a special Thanksgiving promotion. For each in-store purchase of two hundred dollars or more, they would donate a turkey to Roseland’s famous Turkey Toss campaign to feed the hungry, which was coming up that weekend. What a great idea, and it reminded me that I’d been meaning to stop by to make a few fine jewelry purchases for those on my Christmas list, and—
“Boo!” A poke at my back nearly sent me sailing through the plate glass window.
“Savannah!” I clutched my chest. “You’re going to give me a heart attack. And right now, that wouldn’t take much.”
Her mischievous grin vanished. “Why? What’s wrong?”
I looked around. “I just came from the police station, where I once again got a lecture from Detective Alan Shelton.”
“What on earth about?”
I scowled. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
She eyed me up and down. “And it doesn’t look like you want to talk about it.”
“Nope.”
She studied me for a moment then nodded. “Okay, then. Want to head to Mama’s?”
“Sure do.” At some point, I would tell her about my kerfuffle with the detective, but right then, I was ready to move on. The local meat-and-three diner, one of Roseland’s hidden gems, was located in an alley a few doors away. All the tables were taken when we got there, so while we waited in line, I told Savannah what I knew about the incident at the Happy Hometown office.
“Good grief. Is Gerald going to be okay?”
I sighed. “I hope so. Caitlyn said she heard he would be in the hospital for a few days.”
“I wonder if he saw whoever attacked him.”
“He was completely out of it when they carried him out on a stretcher last night, so I doubt he was able to tell them if he did.”
Surveying the packed dining room, I said, “Business is sure booming today. I’m glad we didn’t wait any longer to show up.”
No matter what had happened earlier that morning, I fully intended to make the most of lunch at Mama’s Place. The lunchtime patrons were already chowing down on the day’s special, meatloaf, and nursing tall tumblers of the best sweet tea in North Georgia.
After we’d waited for five minutes, a middle-aged man I recognized as a local judge got up and left a table where he’d been sitting with another man, who appeared to be in his twenties. He was probably some aspiring legal eagle.
Savannah and I grabbed the newly vacated table and looked over the diner’s photocopied menus, which always had a Bible verse printed at the bottom. The verse for the day read “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24.” I grinned. My sour attitude sure wasn’t doing me any good, and Mama and God—not necessarily in that order—had obviously known that I would need an attitude adjustment.
Savannah set her menu on the table. “I know I shouldn’t, but I’m having the fried chicken. What about you?”
I sighed. “Still can’t decide.” How long has it been since I’ve had the meatloaf here? Oh, and there’s baked fish today too. That would be a healthy choice. With a side salad and some green beans.
Mama herself, LaNelle Jenkins, came to our table, her mint-green order pad in hand. “Welcome, ladies. What can I get for y’all today?”
I nodded at Savannah. “You go ahead. I’ll make up my mind by the time you’re through.”
“I’ll have the meatloaf, squash casserole, and fried okra. And sweet tea to drink.”
“You got it, babe. And you, Emma?”
I stared at Savannah. “You said you were getting the fried chicken, so I was going to get the meatloaf.”
“So get the meatloaf, sugar.” Mama’s pen was poised over her order pad. “I’ve got enough for both of y’all, you know.” She grinned.
“I know. I just always like to order something different from the people I eat with. But you know what? I wanted the meatloaf, so I’m sticking with that, and—”
“And you’ll have macaroni and cheese and fried green tomatoes for the sides. And sweet tea. Right?”
I smiled as LaNelle hurried off with our orders, then I looked around and spotted some familiar faces, including Savannah’s sister, who appeared to be enjoying another lunch date with Tyler Montgomery. Despite the bad things going on in Roseland, I was heartened that both my and Gus’s love lives seemed to be moving in the right direction.
I leaned over and looked past Savannah until I caught Gus’s eye and nodded at her nearly empty plate. “I’m a fan of the meatloaf too. Up to the usual standards, I trust?”
“As always. I used it to nudge Tyler along about joining the arts council.”
“Oh?” I nodded at Tyler and raised an eyebrow. “And has she been successful?”
Tyler grinned. “Gus is the kind of woman who doesn’t take no for an answer.”
Savannah joked, “You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know.”
Gus rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She closed the pastel floral notebook she’d had open on their table, and she and Tyler stood and headed to the door.
When they were out of earshot, I turned to Savannah. “Looks like those two are getting on well, huh?”
“Shh, don’t jinx it. I can’t remember the last time a guy worked out for Gus. She’s had some of the worst luck.” Savannah shook her head. “But I’ve sure got my fingers crossed this time.”
One of Mama’s daughters arrived at our table with two plates of meatloaf and vegetables. Mama’s meatloaf was so good that I almost forgot about the unpleasant encounter at the police station that morning.
Savannah was halfway through her meatloaf and making headway on her squash and okra. As she speared a bite of meatloaf, she laughed. “It just hit me that Gus has been thinking of going vegetarian. If she’s bribing Tyler with Mama’s country cooking, I guess that means she’s ditching that plan, at least long enough to get Tyler on the arts council.”
That reminded me of Justin’s idea about assembling a group of fine artists. “Speaking of artists and the arts, I was supposed to ask you something. What would you think about joining forces with some other fine artists in the area and staging your own shows? Does that appeal to you?”
“Sure. What’ve you got in mind?”
I cocked my head. “It’s only an idea at the moment, but Justin wants to gather a group of local artists who exhibit together and support each other’s work. I told him I’d ask you about it, and of course he’s hoping Gus will participate too.”
Savannah was all smiles. “I love Justin’s work, and yeah, I’d be extremely interested in that. When do we start?”
I pulled a notepad out of my purse and scribbled down his number. “Here’s his contact info. Text him or give him a call, and maybe the two of you can brainstorm how this might work.”
Savannah eagerly accepted it. “Will do.”
“And one more thing. When Justin and I talked about this last night, I also told him about Tyler. Would he be interested in joining? Would he be a good fit?”
“Hmm, good question. Tyler’s unbelievably talented, but he’s always done his own thing. I’ll run it by Gus first and get her to see if he’s interested. The worst he can do is say no.”
“Exactly.”
LaNelle made the rounds again and walked by our table while holding up two slices of pie. “We’ve got both apple and pumpkin today, ladies. Can I interest you in a slice?”
Already stuffed, I declined. Savannah said she would like some later then asked whether she could purchase a whole pumpkin pie to take home with her. LaNelle said she’d get it ready for her.
“You must like that pumpkin pie a lot.”
“I do, but enough about pie. Are you going to tell me what had you so rattled earlier? Something to do with Alan Shelton?”
I waved it off. “No big deal, really. I had a lead on something that might be related to the murder, and when I stopped by his office to share it, I got a lecture about keeping my nose clean and staying out of his investigation.”
Savannah pursed her lips.
“What is it? You’re not on his side, are you?”
She clasped her hands on the table. “Look, I’m not on anybody’s ‘side.’ But if you’re investigating again when he’s asked you not to...”
I huffed. “I promise I am not intentionally investigating anything. But when information literally lands at my back door, what am I supposed to do with it? Ignore it?”
“Here you go, lady.” LaNelle plopped a paper grocery bag in front of Savannah and said she’d wrapped the pie in double layers of foil to keep it fresh.
We headed to the cashier, and after we paid for our food, Savannah tapped my arm.
“I believe you when you say you’re not trying to investigate the murder, but even if something ‘lands at your back door,’ as you put it, be careful, okay?”
I assured her that I would watch my back, and as I left the restaurant, I took that promise to heart. The morning’s weather report had said more rain was coming, and the dark-gray skies made me believe it. A chill crept up my neck—along with the strange sensation that I was being watched. But that was ridiculous. I looked around and saw only the usual hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers going in and out of the downtown shops.
A chill in the air. That’s all it was.
I hoped.