Early Thursday morning, I got up and went through my morning routine. By the time David and Stephanie joined me on the back deck for coffee, I had been awake for a couple of hours.
David stumbled into his chair, careful not to spill his coffee as he flopped down. He downed a few ounces before attempting to talk. “Aren’t you off today? Why are you dressed so early?”
“I am off from work, but I’m going to meet Dixie to check out a building. We’re going to Naomi Keller’s visitation, and then I have the final inspection, plus I still have to wire the money to the title company and—”
David held up his hand. “You’re making my head spin. Sounds like you’ve got a busy day.”
“And I’m going to meet one of Red’s sisters. So I’ve been up most of the night stressing about that.”
David smiled as he sipped his coffee. “I think meeting Red’s family is merely a formality. He really cares about you. I’m sure they will too.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Red’s a grown man. He’s capable of making his own decisions. He isn’t going to break up with you simply because his sisters don’t like you.”
“I know, but I know what it’s like to be . . . involved with someone whose family doesn’t like you.”
Stephanie had been quiet up until now. “You’re thinking about Nonna Conti.”
Nonna Conti was Albert’s mother. She’d hated me from the moment I’d married her son. I tried never to speak ill of her, especially in front of David and Stephanie. Regardless of my feelings, she was still their nonna, their grandmother. However, Camilia Conti had no qualms about speaking ill of me in their presence. I couldn’t say that her feelings had played a factor in the dissolution of our marriage, but it had certainly added stress.
Stephanie reached out a hand of comfort, and it was then that I noticed the large diamond that now graced her ring finger.
“Oh my god! You’re engaged!” I grabbed her face and stared into her eyes. The happiness that greeted me let me know all that I needed to know. My daughter was engaged, and she was happy. We hugged and cried and hugged while we cried, and then we laughed and cried.
David was a bit slower to respond, but he eventually reached over and gave Stephanie a hug. “I’m really happy for you, sis. Joe’s a good man.”
Stephanie cried some more, and Lucky, unsure what to make of all of this, stood by ready to provide comfort if needed.
Stephanie reached down and hugged her dog. “It’s okay, boy. These are tears of joy.”
“I’m assuming all of this happened last night, but how did he propose? Had you two talked about it?”
Stephanie sat up. “Last night, he took me down by the Tennessee River. There’s a place near the water with a bench. We sat and watched the water. Then he got down on one knee. He told me he loved me and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He said if that meant he had to move to Chicago, then so be it. He asked if I’d marry him.”
“How romantic.” I started to tear up again and had to wipe my eyes.
“I didn’t even think twice. I just knew that I wanted to marry him, and I said yes.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve had time to think about a date yet?”
“Not yet. We have some important details to work through first.”
“Like who quits their job and moves?” David said.
Something in David’s voice made me wonder if that question was strictly for Stephanie and Joe or if he was thinking similar thoughts about him and Madison, but I decided to let that question wait.
The alarm on my cell phone went off, and I remembered that I needed to call the bank. So I quickly dialed that number. Despite the fact that the branch had just opened, I was still placed in a queue. Thankfully, my wait was brief. I asked about the deposit, and the teller confirmed the conclusion I’d come to in the early hours of the morning. I arranged for the wire transfer and hung up.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone question their bank because they have too much money,” David said.
“Apparently, the police and the courts have finished investigating your father. Remember the million dollars he had in that offshore bank? Well, they’ve released the money to me.” I stared at them. “I don’t want the money, and I’m thinking I’d like to set up trusts for the two of you.”
Stephanie and David exchanged glances.
“What’s wrong? I expected you two would be at least a little excited.” I turned to Stephanie. “You and Joe can use the money to have the wedding of your dreams or use it for a down payment on a new house. Honeymoon in Italy. Or you can use it as a nest egg for my future grandchildren’s college funds.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Can you really imagine Joe Harrison wearing a tuxedo in some big fancy wedding?” She glanced out over the yard. “I love him too much to ask that of him. I’d be content to get married here, in your gazebo surrounded by my family.”
I fought back tears.
Stephanie grinned. “Maybe you and Red will want to throw a big elaborate wedding.”
I laughed. “I have an easier time imagining Joe in a tux than imagining Red wearing one.”
I turned to David. “Well, what about you? New York is an expensive place to live, and you could get a bigger, nicer apartment or travel the world.”
David glanced at Stephanie and then cleared his throat. “We both talked about this, and we decided that rather than splitting the money two ways, we want to split it three ways.” He pointed to all of us. I started to object, but he hurried on. “Mom, you’ve sacrificed so much for us over the years, and you’re always putting others first. It’s time that you . . . lived a little. You could pay cash for this house. Renovate it however you want. Travel the world.”
Stephanie gazed at me. “Isn’t there something you’ve always dreamed of doing, but never had the money?”
I thought for a few moments. “Well, there’s one thing.”
Both of them sat up and leaned forward eagerly.
“Yesterday, when I was walking around that building with Dixie, I thought it might be nice to be a partner or an investor.”
Stephanie bounced in her chair. “I think that’s a great idea. You could take care of the accounting for the business.”
I glanced at David. “What do you think, and be honest, I can take it.”
“I think it’s a great idea, too. You won’t need anything as fancy as that Pet Haven Spa where Madison used to work, but I’m sure she’d want to help out too.”
We chatted about the business until Dixie arrived. I cautioned the children that nothing was confirmed yet. We were just looking at the building, and even if Dixie decided to move forward, I wasn’t sure she’d want a partner.
On the drive downtown, I thought of how to broach the subject with Dixie but never found a good opening. Before I realized it, we were at the Greyhound rescue. Monica Jill called and said she was going to be late and for us to go ahead without her.
We parked in the same spot we had the previous night. The rescue wasn’t open yet, but there was a black luxury SUV parked in front. A woman with thick, curly dark hair and a big smile greeted us. She wore blue jeans and a top I’d seen in one of my favorite shops, which I loved, though I knew it was outside of my price range. She introduced herself.
“Hello, I’m Barbara Westfield.”
Dixie shook her hand. “I’m Scarlet Jefferson, but please call me Dixie.” She turned to me. “This is my best friend in the entire world, Lilly Ann Echosby.”
I saw the name recognition reflected in her eyes. “Lilly Ann Echosby? Are you… I mean, you’re the Lilly Echosby who’s dating my brother, Red?”
I nodded and extended my hand.
Barbara Westfield ignored my hand, reached out, and pulled me into a warm hug. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting to meet you.” She released me and smiled. “I had no idea you were coming too. My sisters are going to be so jealous when I tell them I got to meet you.” She smiled and leaned forward and whispered, “My brother is crazy about you.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m pretty crazy about him too.”
She reached out and hugged me again. “I’m sorry, but I’m a hugger, and I just can’t tell you how excited we are.” She released me. “Okay, I’ll try not to do that again.”
“It’s okay.” I chuckled. “I’ve been nervous about meeting Red’s family, so it’ll be nice to know that I have a friend.”
She stopped and put her hand on her hip. “Nervous? Honey, you have no reason to be nervous. We are thrilled.” She stared a few moments longer and then remembered why we were all here. “I’m sorry. Let me get the door open. I can show you around, and then we can chat more.”
Barbara showed us the building and pointed out every feature, both good and bad. She kept up a steady string of conversation the entire time, and when we’d seen everything, she returned us to the office space. By that time, Monica Jill had arrived, and she sat in the office and waited.
Monica Jill was excited to meet Barbara Westfield, but she wasn’t her normally bubbly self and didn’t say much.
Barbara looked at us and then down at her jeans. “You three look really nice. I feel like I should have dressed up.”
“We’re going to a wake later,” Dixie said.
“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be for Naomi Keller, would it?”
We nodded.
Barbara didn’t say a word, but I could feel the temperature decrease.
“Did you know Naomi Keller?” I asked.
“Not well, but I’d had some . . . dealings with her.”
“Sounds like you didn’t like her,” Monica Jill said.
She hesitated for a few moments. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but Naomi Keller was a . . . difficult woman.”
“How so?” I asked. “And, before you get your guard up, I think you should know that we weren’t friends with Naomi Keller.”
Barbara glanced at each of us. “None of you were?”
“Good Lord, no,” Monica Jill said.
“Well, why are you going to the visitation?”
“Because the police think I might have killed her,” Dixie said, “and we’re hoping to find the real killer so we can get them off my back.”
Barbara’s face showed that she hadn’t expected that response. After a moment of shocked surprise, she said, “Wow! They really think you killed her?”
“Your brother is helping us, but he took me in for questioning.”
She put her hand on her hip again. “No way. Well, you just tell him there’s probably a long line of people who would have liked to have killed Naomi Keller.”
Something in her face made me ask, “I don’t suppose you know any of those people?”
She thought for a few moments before making up her mind. “Well, Brittney Keller would be at the top of my list, if I had to name someone.”
“Why’s that?” Monica Jill asked.
“For some reason I’ll never understand, Brittney was head over heels for Dixon Vannover. She was devastated when he dropped her like a bad habit about two months ago. You should have heard the wailing and cursing she did.” Barbara shook her head at the thought. “I told her she was better off without that loser, but she wouldn’t hear anything against him.” She clutched her chest. “She was in love.”
“So Brittney talked about the fact that her lover and her stepmother were . . . an item?” I asked.
“Frankly, I’d have taken that to my grave, but she told anyone dumb enough to stand still and listen. I made the mistake of coming to have a look around the building, and she trapped me, and I heard about the whole sordid mess.”
“You know she came to the dog show the day Naomi Keller was killed and staged a protest in which she actually flung syrup on her stepmother,” Monica Jill said.
“I told her she should have flung that syrup at Dixon Vannover.” Barbara folded her arms across her chest. “That two-timing womanizer had the nerve to try and get her back after Naomi was dead.”
“What?” we all said.
“Oh yeah, he came here the other night and practically begged her to forgive him and take him back. I had come to take pictures of the building. Well, I guess she finally either got fed up or saw him for the lowlife that he is . . . was, because she called him every name in the book. She screamed some obscenities that made me blush, and I spend a good amount of time around construction workers.”
“When was this fight?” I asked.
“I think it was Tuesday night.” She thought. “It was Tuesday, because that’s the night he died, and I remember telling my husband that Brittney had been mad enough to kill.”
We asked a few more questions, but Barbara didn’t have any other information about Naomi Keller or Dixon Vannover. Eventually, our attention returned to the building.
“I don’t know how you feel about this office area, but I absolutely hate it. I wanted to open it up, but the Greyhound rescue didn’t have the money for more renovations, and my husband had already discounted their rent so much that he positively refused to do anything else.”
“So you and your husband own the building and leased the space to the rescue?” Dixie asked.
“We bought up a lot of these old buildings. Since he’s a contractor, he can renovate them and either sell them or lease them. He wasn’t crazy about making these customized changes because he said we’d never get our money back from a nonprofit and it would just make the building harder to sell.” She smiled. “I hope you decide to buy this place, if for no other reason than it will allow me to rub his nose in it.”
Dixie said she needed to think about it, so we prepared to go. Barbara Westfield said her good-byes to Monica Jill and Dixie. She hugged me again and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You’ve made my brother so happy. He’s almost back to the way he was before he went . . . before the military.” She choked up. “I don’t know if he’ll ever get back completely, but he’s interested in life again, and he laughs and plays with that goofy dog. It’s just wonderful.”
I could feel the heat rise up my neck, and I reached out and hugged Barbara. “Thank you.”
Monica Jill, Dixie, and I arranged to meet at Da Vinci’s to discuss our next steps.
Dixie and I arrived first and found a small bistro table outside, and over coffee and croissants, we talked through the building’s pluses and minuses. We waited for Monica Jill, who got stuck in traffic and then took a bathroom break.
When Monica Jill finally sat down, I leaned forward and asked the question that had been eating at me. “What did your husband say about the baby?”
Monica Jill sighed. “I didn’t tell him.”
“What?”
“Zach was tired and cranky when he came home last night, and I just couldn’t do it.” She must have seen that we were both revved up to protest because she held up her hand. “However, I told him that I had something I wanted to talk to him about tonight, and I’m planning a romantic dinner and some quiet time for us to talk. I’ll tell him tonight.”
She seemed much more at ease with the news than she had yesterday, which would certainly be a huge help when she talked with her husband. We spent a few minutes talking about the baby but then moved on to the matter at hand.
“So what did you think of the building?” Monica Jill asked.
“I loved just about everything about it.” Dixie said. “Unfortunately, the one thing I don’t love is the biggest obstacle—the price.”
“Well, we might be able to get her to come down a bit,” Monica Jill said, without the slightest bit of conviction in her voice. “But I do think the price is fair.”
“So do I,” Dixie said. “That’s the problem. Beau and I talked about it last night. He’s willing to do whatever I want.” She smiled but then shook her head. “But I hate to ask him to invest so much money. He’s been slowing down and talking about retiring in a few years. This would delay his plan.”
“Maybe we can find another building, but I doubt that we’ll find one that is as close to what you want. The location is amazing, but God will provide.” Monica Jill bit into her croissant.
While Dixie munched on her flakey, buttery croissant, I screwed up my courage. “I talked to the kids this morning, and we were wondering if you would consider taking on a partner.”
I quickly explained about Albert’s legacy and how I would love to invest in the day care. “I could help with the books, and I wouldn’t have to be involved in the day-to-day operations,” I quickly added. “Unless you wanted me to. It would be your business. I could be a silent partner or an investor.”
Dixie burst into tears and then reached over and hugged me. “Lilly Ann, that’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard. I would love to have you as a full partner.” She pulled back to look at my face. “If you’re sure that’s what you want?”
“I’m sure.”
Monica Jill clapped. “Oh my God! That is fantastic.”
We pulled ourselves together and talked through what we felt would be a fair price to offer for the building, and Monica Jill pulled out her phone. “Technically, I’ll have to get someone from the office to help with the sale. I’m not licensed for commercial real estate, but I can call Barbara and let her know we’re interested in making an offer.” She crossed her fingers. “Maybe if she knows her brother’s girlfriend is going to be an investor in the business, she might just hold off on other offers until we can get a formal sales contract worked out.”
Before I could object to using my relationship with Red to help in the business deal, Monica Jill dialed Barbara Westfield and told her that her buyer was interested in making an offer. Based on Monica Jill’s animated facial expressions, it looked like Barbara Westfield was willing to consider an offer.
We sat and discussed our offer amount and the items we wanted added into the contract until it was time to leave for Naomi Keller’s visitation. The funeral home was atop Lookout Mountain, so I endured another perilous ascent that left my stomach in knots.
As I climbed out of Dixie’s car, she looked at my drawn expression. “I would have thought you’d find it easier to get up and down the mountain by now.”
“So would I.”
A visitation, or wake, was an opportunity for individuals to come and say their good-byes to the deceased and to offer condolences to the family. I’ve been to some wakes that were more like a party than a sad acknowledgment of a death. However, it wasn’t uncommon for a wake to function like an open house, where people dropped in, signed the guest book, viewed the body, and left.
Monica Jill arrived atop the mountain not long after us, but we could see she was on the telephone, and she motioned for us to go ahead. We walked into the funeral home, expecting to see a crowd of people milling around, but instead found ourselves alone.
I looked at my watch. “Do you think we got the time wrong?”
“Nope. You’re right on time.” Brittney Keller had sneaked up behind us while we were focused on signing the guest book. “This turnout speaks volumes about Naomi’s popularity, don’t you think?”
Brittney was dressed in a bright red cocktail dress, which was lowcut and daring, with high stiletto shoes. Before I could control my face, she twirled. “You don’t like my outfit?” She laughed and leaned close. “I intend to dance on that hag’s grave, so I needed something appropriate for the occasion.”
“If you’re only here to disgrace yourself, why’d you even bother coming?” Dixie said.
“I came for Daddy. It’s the only way he would agree to pay my cut of the stepmonster’s insurance money.”
“You know about that?” I asked.
“I didn’t, until yesterday. When I refused to come to this farce, Daddy Dearest dangled an amount of money large enough to fund my move to Florida in front of my nose. So . . . here I am.”
“Where’s your father?” Dixie asked.
Brittney strutted to one of the rooms in the funeral home and flung open the door. We followed her and saw a room set up with chairs for anyone wishing to linger and a huge picture of Naomi Keller in her younger days, which looked as though she were made up for a Glamour Shot photo, resting on an easel near the front of the room.
Before Brittney could march off, I grabbed her arm. “Where’s the body?”
“The police haven’t released it yet, but my father plans to have her cremated anyway, so there was no reason to wait.”
Dixie and I walked to the front of the room to give our condolences to Warren Keller, the lone person in a room full of empty chairs.
I extended my hand and mumbled something that I thought sounded appropriate for the occasion. After all, I barely knew the woman and wasn’t great at spewing out sentiment in any case. However, Dixie was highly skilled.
She hugged him. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Thank you both for coming.” He looked from me to Dixie. “I hear from Brittney that you two have been asking a lot of questions about Naomi’s death.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, but Dixie stepped in. “Well, I can’t help feeling partly responsible. If she hadn’t been judging our event . . . who knows?”
He reached out and squeezed each of our arms. “That’s so kind. I truly appreciate you both for risking the wrath of a murderer to find who killed her.” He glanced around. “Naomi didn’t have a lot of friends, so I’m glad she had you both.”
I felt a warm flush rising up my neck at the deception. Neither Dixie nor I were friends of Naomi Keller. In fact, if Dixie hadn’t been accused of the murder, I seriously doubt that we’d have thought twice about it, which made me sad. Regardless of how rotten of a human being she was, the idea that hardly anyone would grieve her death seemed extremely cruel. My guilt prompted me. “If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Warren Keller teared up. “Well, there is one thing.”
I grimaced, but Dixie picked up the baton of goodwill. “Certainly, just name it.”
“I’d like to donate Naomi’s clothes to charity.” He glanced at Dixie. “I think you’re involved in a lot of charitable organizations that help women in the community, and I thought . . .”
“I’m on the board of an organization that helps homeless women find jobs. Many of them don’t have the proper wardrobe, and I’m sure they’d be glad to have Naomi’s things, but . . .” She glanced at Brittney.
“Saying Brittney and her stepmother didn’t get along is like saying oil and water don’t mix.” He pointed to his daughter. “She’d just burn everything.”
We worked out a date and time that would work for the three of us, and then Dixie and I moved along. By now, our friends and family had arrived and provided a respectable number of visitors, which I was sure had to make Warren Keller feel a bit better.
They each came up and shook Warren’s hands and offered words of condolence.
Brittney sat on the front row reading a magazine and chewing bubblegum.
We milled around for a bit, but after a decent interval of time, we rose and prepared to make our exit.
I walked over to Red. “Will I see you tonight?”
“If that’s an invite, then yes.”
“Absolutely.”
His eyes asked a question I wasn’t picking up on. Eventually, he said, “So how did the meeting with Barbara go?”
I smiled. “She’s so nice. I love her.”
“I knew you didn’t have anything to worry about. I hope she didn’t say anything to embarrass me.”
I gave him a knowing smile, which I knew would raise his anxiety.
“Wait, what did she say?”
I laughed. “Nothing. She was just very nice.”
At first, he didn’t look as though he believed me, but after a few minutes, he shook his head. “Forget it. It’s probably going to be worse for me at the housewarming when they’re all there together. My mom and my sisters will love embarrassing me. I just hope no one starts pulling out old baby pictures.”
“I’d love to see your baby pictures.” I kissed him. “Do you have time to join us for lunch?”
He looked at his watch. “No, I’ve got a lot of work, but I’ll see you tonight.”
Rather than having me face the harrowing trip down the mountain so quickly after our ascent, Dixie thought it would be nice to have lunch at a restaurant. She suggested a café that had been a grocery store in a previous life but was now a lovely restaurant with a large patio area.
Red and Madison were unable to join us, but our party of eight was accommodated by pushing three tables together.
The food was good Southern cuisine with a gourmet touch and included items like fried green tomatoes, pimiento cheese, and shrimp and grits. Since we were split fifty-fifty between North and South, we decided to order a variety of dishes and share them. When our plates arrived, everything looked, smelled, and tasted wonderful.
When we were full, we sat back and sipped our sweet tea and made sure that everyone was up to date on the latest.
“I’m sure you’ll all hear from Red later, but the forensic report came back from the fabric used to garrote both Naomi Keller and Dixon Vannover,” Dr. Morgan said. “Madison was correct. It was a dog lead, but that’s not the most interesting thing.” He took a sip of his tea. “The interesting fact was that a small hair was found on the lead.”
“Oh my,” Monica Jill said. “Were they able to run DNA and trace the hair to the killer?” She reached over and grabbed a fried potato from B.J.’s plate. “Are you going to eat these?”
B.J. slid her plate toward her friend. “I saw that on one of those forensic shows, and they were able to find the killer from a hair he left at the scene of the crime.”
“It turns out this hair wasn’t human.”
“Not human? What kind of hair was it?” Dixie asked.
“Animal hair.”
“Well, that’s no surprise,” Dixie said. “I mean, she was killed at a dog show, and there were lots of dogs there. Plus she owns Greyhounds. There must be dog hair everywhere.”
“True, but it wasn’t canine hair. It was feline.”
B.J. shrugged. “A lot of people have both cats and dogs.”
Joe said, “Were they able to run any DNA tests to trace the hair?”
“Trace the hair?” Dr. Morgan asked. “They can do that?”
“Oh my God,” Stephanie said, sitting up. “Last year, I met this prosecutor from Prince Edward Island. We were talking about unusual cases, and he mentioned a case where the prosecutors used cat hairs found on a bloodied jacket to link a man to the murder of his estranged wife.”
Dr. Morgan, Stephanie, and Joe entered into a detailed and extremely confusing conversation about DNA, animal hair, and trace evidence. After a few moments, Stephanie glanced at the rest of us. “I’m sorry.”
“Does Chattanooga have the equipment to do whatever it is you’ve all been discussing?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but I can ask,” Dr. Morgan said. “In fact, I’m going to check into this right now.” He got up, left money for the bill, and then hurried out to his car.
Dixie frowned.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m just wondering which one of our suspects had a cat.”
“I saw a cat in June Vannover’s artist shed. She said Dixon was allergic, so the cat had to stay in the shed.”
“There was a cat in the Greyhound rescue,” Monica Jill reminded us.
Dixie glanced at me. “I didn’t see one at Warren Keller’s house when we were there, did you?”
“Neither did I, but . . .” Something tugged at my memory. An idea. A thought or memory flitted across my brain. I tried to catch it, but it was gone too quickly. After a few moments, I shook it off. Whatever it was, it was gone now. My gut told me it was important, but experience told me to push it away and stop trying. At some point, it would come to me. However, something in the pit of my stomach sent a shiver down my spine, and I shuddered. Whatever it was that was lurking just outside of my conscience mind was important. I just prayed that whenever I caught it, it wouldn’t be too late.