Chapter 8
Saturday morning started like one of those autumn days that make you feel summer would go on forever. The warm breeze gently pushing the limbs of the trees around let the loose leaves cascade to the ground. The white linen curtains on my open bedroom window were floating in the same warm breeze.
Time to move forward. Time to find Amy, figure out what had happened to Miss Emily, and paint the kitchen now that the new appliances had been delivered and installed late yesterday. I didn’t realize how tired I would be after the funeral, so when I finally got back to the house, seeing the appliance truck pull up wasn’t a welcome sight.
Pulling on sweats and a T-shirt, I headed downstairs to start coffee and start moving the furniture out of the kitchen before laying old sheets down to keep the hardwood floors from being splattered with paint. The kitchen would be sunny yellow by the end of the day, with one accent wall in a spring green. Bright and cheery, and I had just the Miss Emily original landscape to go on the wall to finish off the look. The tile backsplash, although dated, seemed classic in design and thankfully didn’t need to be replaced. I started the coffee and called Amy again. This time her answering machine came on immediately telling me that the mailbox was full of my messages and that I couldn’t leave another one. Her cell must be dead.
I pulled out my laptop and searched for a phone listing for Crystal Dunn. There were several Dunns listed, most outside the local area, but one, a C. Dunn, lived in Bakerstown. I wrote down the address and phone number. After I finished painting, I’d take a drive over to Bakerstown. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I headed to the study and sat down at the desk. I went through the drawers, looking for the picture that Sadie had seen. I hit pay dirt in the bottom drawer.
She’d been right, the baby was cute. I turned the photograph over, and on the back, someone had written Annie Dunn, three months. I put the picture in my purse and called Jimmy Marcum. He agreed to meet me at three in his office.
Why had Miss Emily chosen me to inherit? Maybe Jimmy had answers that would ease my mind. I understood her choice not to leave anything to the Joneses, but the baby should have been an easy choice. There had to be more to the story that I didn’t know yet. I had five hours to get my painting done before I had to leave to meet Mr. Marcum. I grabbed some cereal and sat down at the desk to eat before I turned the kitchen into my own art gallery.
“I’m glad you called me. This way I can have you sign today, and by Monday I can have at least the liquid assets transferred to your bank.” Jimmy Marcum sat down in his leather chair behind the walnut desk. “I had my secretary get everything together on Friday, and she put it somewhere here.” He shuffled through the files that completely covered the top of his desk.
“I wanted to ask you if Miss Emily had any other heirs, besides George and Sabrina, that is.” I sat up taller in the chair, trying to see over the manila files.
“Heirs? No, beside George and you, there wasn’t anyone else listed in the will.” Jimmy contemplated me over the files.
“She never mentioned this little girl?” I handed over the picture of Annie.
Jimmy took the picture and regarded the picture, turning it over. “She said someone had come by claiming to be the mother of her great-grandbaby, but there wasn’t any evidence. Since the father was deceased, no one could verify the paternity of the child.” He handed the picture back to me. “Here’s the file.”
“You talked to the girl?”
“I did. She told me that Joshua Williams was the father and she’d been told he might be Miss Emily’s grandson.” Jimmy cleared off a space on the desk and started looking over the papers.
“How is that possible? Miss Emily’s son died in Vietnam.”
“He did. And she had no other children. We figured the girl was trying to run a scam. I wanted to call the police, but Miss Emily refused. I guess she had a soft spot for the baby.” He picked up the paperwork and handed it to me. “There are just a few places where you need to sign and date.”
I wasn’t sure this was the right move. If the baby was related to Miss Emily, she should be getting this estate, not me. “I don’t know.”
“Jill, I promise you that baby is no more related to Miss Emily than I am. She wanted you to have the house. I’m sure the money will help make the place livable.”
Livable and up to code so the mayor and his friends couldn’t sweep in to tear it down. My savings account was drier than a load of clothes right out of the cycle. I could certainly use the influx of cash, especially with the construction guys showing up on Monday. I put the picture back into my purse.
“Where do I sign?”
Heading out of Jimmy’s office just over a half a million dollars richer, I felt stunned. I never thought I’d be able to feel comfortable even in the perfect job. Bills seemed to always fill in any pay increases I had earned. I had walked away from my former career with a nice nest egg, but nothing like this. I figured getting the house up to the council’s code would take close to a hundred grand. The inheritance would refill my security coffers without me worrying about the financial security of the coffee shop. Maybe I could make some of the changes that Aunt Jackie had been talking about at the shop.
Maybe I’d even replace old Betsy in a couple of months rather than a few years. I loved my Jeep, but its repair bills were matching the loan payments. I threw my purse toward the Jeep’s passenger seat. I missed the seat and the purse fell upside down, dumping everything on the floor.
Slow down.
I grabbed my wallet, my ChapStick, my notebook and pens, and came upon the picture of Annie. It wouldn’t hurt to just go visit and see if C. Dunn was Crystal. And even though Jimmy had totally dismissed the idea of the baby being Miss Emily’s great-granddaughter, I needed to feel comfortable before I started spending the inheritance as if it was my own.
But it’s your money. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?
My evil side tried to talk me out of opening Pandora’s box. That was when I knew that I had to go investigate. I never trusted that voice.
The address for C. Dunn took me just to the edge of the bad side of town. Houses here were small but well-kept, lawns green and flower beds well-established if not overgrown. The mailbox out front just said Dunn. No first name. I sat in my Jeep in front of the house mulling over what I would say. “Hi, I’m the woman who got the money you were trying to scam out of Miss Emily?” That seemed a little harsh. As I was still going over opening lines, each one worse than the last, my cell phone rang.
I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway. It was probably the construction crew telling me the house had to be torn down due to ginormous termites living in the basement. “Hello?”
“Hey, where are you?” a male voice asked.
“In Bakerstown.” Now I knew there was trouble at the house. It had to be one of the construction guys, since no other guy ever called me. “Tell me, what’s wrong with the house now?”
“The house looks fine from what I can see. The outside is a mess and you can’t even tell that the lawn was mowed yesterday due to the siding demolition, but I’m sure they’ll clean that up before they leave. Why are you in Bakerstown?” the voice asked.
“Who is this?”
“Greg. Greg King. Who did you think it was?” Greg’s voice boomed through the phone.
“I thought it was one of the builders telling me the house had fallen in on its foundation.” I sighed, relieved that the house hadn’t realized that my savings account had been refilled and decided to tap it for more changes.
“So again, now that you know it’s not one of the builders, I repeat my question. Why are you in Bakerstown when you are supposed to be here?”
“I stopped by Jimmy Marcum’s to sign the final estate transfer paperwork, and now I’m sitting in front of a house wondering if I should go in.” I shouldn’t have said that last part.
“Sitting in front of whose house?” Greg’s investigative tone came over the phone.
I opened the door, I might as well share, and maybe Greg would have insight as to how I should do this. “Crystal Dunn’s house, I hope.”
“Who’s Crystal Dunn, or do I want to ask?”
“I found this picture of a baby, Annie. Sadie from the church said that Crystal had brought Miss Emily a picture of the baby, Miss Emily’s granddaughter. Well, great-grandbaby.” I continued to watch the house.
“And you thought you’d see if everyone else was wrong? Girl, why can’t you leave things alone? You remember that Miss Emily’s killer still hasn’t been found, and this is an open investigation. Right?”
“I just wanted to meet her.” Why did I feel like a teenager being corrected for staying out late?
“Let me do the detective work. It is my job, you know.”
“I know, I just thought—” God, I sounded like a whiny teenager.
Greg interrupted. “You didn’t think. Now get out of there and get back here. I’m sure there are enough things at the house to keep you busy and out of trouble.”
“Fine.” I hung up the phone. I didn’t need someone telling me what to do. Although I hadn’t thought about the possibility that Crystal could have killed Miss Emily. Even though I hadn’t met the girl, her being a murderer didn’t seem right.
Wait, what was Greg doing at my house? Then I remembered.
We were supposed to go and see the puppies today.
I put my phone down and started to pull the Jeep away from the curb, but something caught my eye.
An older sedan pulled into the small driveway. I watched as a young man got out of the driver’s side, a blonde woman in her early twenties climbing out the other. They both went to the back and opened the doors. He pulled out two bags of groceries and a twelve-pack of soda. She reached in and pulled out a baby. When they reached the front door, the man pulled keys out of his pocket, and opening the door, gave the baby a kiss on the way in. If this was Crystal Dunn and Annie, there seemed to already be a father attached to that baby. Maybe Jimmy Marcum and Miss Emily were right; the visit had been a con.
I watched the couple struggle with the diaper bags and the groceries. When they finally got everything inside and closed the door, blocking my view, I wrote down the address and phone number from my scribbled note to my notebook. I’d call in a few days if I couldn’t get the baby out of my mind. I had run around on some wild goose chase when I should be back in South Cove working on the house and getting a new puppy with Greg.
Married Greg.
Okay, so missing the puppy run probably wasn’t the worst idea I’d had for a while. I put the Jeep into gear and headed back to South Cove. First, though, now that my savings coffers were built back up, a stop at the Home Heaven was in order. Both bathrooms needed to be refurbished, and I might as well get some idea of pricing while in town. And maybe a few more cans of paint.
The phone rang again. Probably Greg checking up on me to see if I’d left the Dunn house. I picked up and said, “I’m on my way to the home improvement store. What do you want?”
“Why are you wasting your time fixing up that house? You’ll be the next body Doc Ames will cart out of there if you don’t sell.” The phone line went dead.