A Frosty Mug of Murder Page 3

  Guardrail shook his head. “Dog, you’re so far out of the loop. That’s real old news, dude. You have to keep up.”

  “But you just told me about it on the phone ten minutes ago.”

  Chapter Four

  I made some busy work behind the bar and organized some glasses and mugs for Dixie. I was lost in my thoughts. Robert Joseph Harlow is a newcomer to our small town and at the distinguished age of seventy three became Donna Holland’s new lover. He has a full head of gray hair and is tall, thin, and always nicely dressed. But what interested me the most, Robert showed up soon after the death of Donna’s third husband, Reginald Holland. I hated to admit it, Beth was right. The lover is always suspect number one. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and how to find out more about him.

  “Hey Ginger, did you really touch the dead body?” Guardrail asked as he picked up his beer.

  “Just because you are a big, tough guy doesn’t mean you're the only one can who handle being around a dead body. And come to think of it, aren’t you the one who climbed up onto that bar stool you’re sitting on. You know, that time you thought you saw Gypsy chasing a mouse?” I loved my regulars, but the buzz inside The Grumpy Chicken was brain numbing with the news of Donna’s death. I poured a half shot of Jack, and downed it.

  Guardrail mumbled to Dog Breath. “What’s her problem? She didn’t have to bring up the mouse incident.”

  Dog Breath murmured back to Guardrail. “She has a point. I was here....I've never seen you move so fast.”

  Guardrail glared back at Dog Breath, and Dog understood, falling silent and he went back to drinking his beer and eating his sandwich. Dixie saw the exchange, and chuckled. “I don’t know how you’ve lived this long making comments like that, Dog. You survived ‘Nam, but keep poking your linebacker sized partner’s nerves, and you won't see your next birthday.”

  Dog Breath snorted. “He knows I’m his best friend. He would never ...”

  Guardrail poked him sideways with his elbow. “Don’t push it. And never bring up the mouse the story again.”

  “I had to endure Agent Orange and deal with all out assaults in the middle of the Vietnam jungle, but bring up a mouse and, zap, that’s it. My long time partner takes me out. That should make for an interesting head stone.”

  Guardrail chortled, “Who said we would be willing to fork over the money for a headstone?”

  “Nice to know I’m loved.” Dog took another sip of his beer.

  I couldn’t help it, with the nervous energy flowing through the pub, my mind couldn’t stop thinking about who murdered Donna. “I need some air Dixie. Sorry, but you’ll have to hold the fort for a few more minutes.”

  Guardrail overheard me. “Ah, Ha! See, finding the body did creep you out. Well, there’s no shrink in this town to go talk to. But you can talk it out with us.”

  “You’re way off, on two counts. First I am NOT freaked out, but I’m not going to debate my state of mind with you. Second, it’s Dixie and I who always dish out the advice in here. If I am going to talk to anyone, it seems that it should be Dixie.” I winked at my bartender then I headed out to learn a little more about Robert Harlow.

  I walked slowly past a few of the store fronts on Main Street, pondering how I was going to find out more about Donna’s new fiance. But small town life gave me a much needed break. Since just about everyone visited our tiny downtown strip during the course of a typical day, I spotted him walking along the sidewalk across the street.

  I was in front of the bookstore and ducked inside. Why, I’m not sure but it felt like the right thing to do. I guess it was better if he didn’t know I was watching him.

  “Well Ginger, so nice to see you out of the pub. You look so pretty with your hair in a pony tail.” Edith was alone, looking at a book with motorcycles on the cover. She was usually with her sister Lily and I was a little surprised to see her alone. Edith and Lily were in their seventies, the town’s spinsters, and they liked to visit the Grumpy Chicken for their nightly constitution, as they called it. They could be a little wild at times, never married and lived in a stately home just a few blocks from main street. It was a good thing too, neither one of them ever bothered to get a driver’s license so they walked everywhere.

  I finally answered her. “Thanks. I needed some fresh air.” I wasn’t lying, that was all she needed to know.

  “Well, it seems you were also real interested in Mr. Harlow. You almost walked into the glass door coming in because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.” Edith smiled at me as she spoke. She may be seventy one, but she didn’t miss a thing.

  “Well, he’s new to town. What do we really know about him?”

  Her smile got bigger. “Well, I know he is too old for you. But not for me.”

  “I’m not sure what to say to that, but ...” I was stammering.

  Edith saved me from saying something stupid. “Did you actually find the body?”

  “Really? How does word spread so fast in Potter’s Mill. I swear, gossip breaks the laws of physics and travels faster than the speed of light here.”

  “I am not sure about the laws of physics, that is over my head deary, but I’m smart enough to know you’re now curious about the lover of a dead woman. Am I right?”

  I forced a smile in return. “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes, Edith.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Oh dear. That tart tongue may be why you’ve yet to remarry.”

  “Okay. Truce. Can we change the subject.”

  “Oooo, look, Robert just came out of Velma’s sandwich shop.” Edith pointed to him, standing on the sidewalk. We had a good view of him out the bookstore’s big glass front door. He was holding a wrapped sandwich in one hand, and patting the pockets of his suit jacket looking for something, with the other.

  I shrugged. “It’s lunch time. Nothing unusual about that.”

  “No, I guess not. He’s moving. Let’s follow him.” Edith waved her hand at the exit as she spoke.

  “Really?”

  “An old fashioned stake out will be fun. Plus, I got some crocheting to work on. I’m making an afghan for my nephew stationed over in Germany. I have everything I need in my tote right here, ready to go.” Edith reached down and grabbed the big loop handles of the tote on the floor and held it up for me to see.

  “Okay. But you can’t tell anyone what we did. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  Robert walked a little, then sat on a bench in front of the bank to eat his sandwich. Edith and I left the bookstore and found a better spot inside the general store a few doors down. It had an old fashioned ice cream parlor, but more important, there were booths that looked out of big windows. We had a perfect view of the bank.

  “Freddie, we just need to borrow your booth for a few minutes to chat and crotchet. Is that okay, even if we don’t order?”

  He nodded. “Sure, Ginger, you are always welcome in here.”

  “Thanks Freddie!”

  We sat with an unobstructed view of the bank. Edith removed the crocheting project from its tote and held it up. “Do you like my afghan?”

  “It’s very pretty.”

  Edith began to work the yarn adding rows, or whatever you call them, to the afghan. “Thank you, dear. You should learn to crochet or knit. Lily doesn’t do much in the way of crafts either, just like you. Don’t know why, she never bothered to get married, which meant she had lots of time to learn.”

  Edith never married, either, but I wasn’t brave enough to point it out. I changed the subject. “Do you think Robert could really be a suspect.” I watched as she moved the crotchet hook. It moved in an almost hypnotic rhythm the way she worked with it.

  “Oh I don’t know. But you know what they say, the murderer always goes to get a sandwich, and then sit in front of the bank, after committing the crime. Oh, and the murderer always dresses nicely, in a suit and tie.”

  I was intrigued by her mat
ter of fact way of talking about murder, but she was clearly not subjective when it came to Robert. “I think I detected a touch of sarcasm in that last comment.”

  “Oh, it was much more than a touch, dear.”

  I laughed at her honestly, then watched Robert brush the crumbs off his suit jacket. He rose, threw the sandwich wrapper into a trash can and checked his pockets again confirming what was inside. After that, he used the bank window as a mirror to check his hair and brushed back a few misplaced strands using his hands, then entered the bank.

  “They say he is a successful businessman. Must have some important business with the bank. Don’t you think he is handsome?”

  “Edith, he’s older than my father. He could almost be my grandfather.”

  “I always say too much. Sorry. But I’m not as bad as Lily. You know she was telling me she saw Robert and Donna in the book store, getting a software, is that what you call it, on how to write your own wills on the computer. They were to marry you know.”

  “Edith, we all know they were planning on getting married. That’s old news.”

  “Yes, I guess it is. But Lily also said that Robert’s daughter, Amber, was there too, arguing with Robert.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, yes. Something about it being a mistake. And Amber said something odd. She told Donna that nothing better happen to her father, or that she would make sure Donna paid for her crimes.”

  “I didn’t even hear that one from Beth.”

  “Lily kept it to herself. Only told me and asked me to keep it secret. Beth is not as well informed as she thinks she is.” She frowned at saying Beth’s name.

  “So why are you telling me now?”

  Edith shrugged her shoulders as if annoyed by the question. “Because Donna turned up dead, dear. Might be more important now, don’t ya think?”

  “I guess.”

  After about ten or fifteen minutes, or three rows of afghan, Robert came out of the bank holding a receipt. It all looked like he was going about business as usual. Then he turned and started in the direction of the Holland house. “Edith, pack it up. We’re going mobile.”

  We headed out of the general store and down the sidewalk. Edith did not walk fast, so we had to take it slower than I wanted, following Robert as best we could while staying out of sight. After a few minutes, we watched as he saw the lone Potter’s Mill police car, as well as a state trooper cruiser and crime van from Savannah, in front of the Holland place. He ran the rest of the way. Sheriff Morrison saw him coming and stopped him. It was kind of far from us, but I observed from a distance as they talked for a moment, and Robert put his hand over his mouth and wailed. I think he may have even cried. Edith and I kept moving closer to the scene and when we were close enough to see better, we looked for a place to stay out of sight.

  We took a minute or two and found a hiding spot while the Sheriff consoled Robert. Edith held her hand up in the general direction of the Holland house. “Seems to be pretty normal if you ask me dear. I mean how could a handsome, proper man like that commit a murder? And you see how upset he is?”

  I had to admit, Robert didn’t seem to be acting like someone who had just murdered another human being. Then his daughter arrived, and I wouldn’t use the word normal to describe her behavior. She screamed at Robert, slapped his chest and starting screaming at the police.

  “She deserved this. She isn’t called the black widow for nothing!” Amber screeched it loud enough for the whole town to hear.

  Edith and I were hiding behind a large wooden sign that proclaimed some proposed Main Street development project. We were a couple of hundred feet from the murder scene, but Amber’s loud outburst was even heard clearly by Edith. She whispered, “She’s pretty upset. That would be suspect number one if you ask me.”

  The comment made me realize, I know less about her than Robert. Amber walked with difficulty, slightly favoring her left side. No one knew why and we just accepted it. She was a pretty enough woman, mid forties, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Guardrail, Dog Breath, and Digger all made comments about how she was a looker. From what I gathered, she didn’t seem to have a career, and skipped from one job to the next. Overall, I thought she was dull and I kept my distance from her. Whenever she came into the Grumpy Chicken, she complained about Donna and the upcoming marriage. She wouldn’t let it go and I just figured she was worried about her father. Eventually, I grew tired of hearing it and tuned her out. Now, maybe I should have listened to what she was saying. Could she be the one who murdered Donna? I was a little shocked how fast I went from Robert to Amber as a suspect, but it was hard to argue with what my eyes saw. Amber was acting more like the murder suspect. “Say Edith, we should head back to the Chicken, you know, talk this all through.”

  “Sure, deary, and would you be willing to grant an old, single lady a drink on the house, too? All this walking and stakeout work is hard on an old body.”

  I forgot, Edith and Lily shared a gene, the cheapskate one. “Sure, but only one, I have paper thin margins as it is.”

  “Oh, you J. P. Morgan types, always thinking of your bottom line.”

  “I’m just trying to stay in business. And the only bottom I worry about is the one I have to squeeze into my jeans.”

  “Deary, you’re so skinny and all the boys like to check out your rump when you’re not looking.” She nodded just a little, with eyebrows raised, the way people do to let you know they have seen it themselves.

  “Again Edith, you’ve stumped me and I don’t know what to say.” I may have even blushed a little.

  “Say nothing, and let’s go, I’m thirsty.” And on her own, Edith took a few steps in the direction of the Grumpy Chicken. I guess we were done and heading back.

  We leisurely started back for the pub. And if things weren’t strange enough already today, as we left, I turned around to take one more look at the scene. The sign we were hiding behind caught my attention. Seems the development announced by the wooded billboard was proposed by Palmer Properties. I saw this particular sign a number of times and never noticed it. But I couldn’t miss it now, that was the same name I saw on the letterhead at the murder scene.

  Chapter Five

  Edith and I made it to the pub in record slow time, and it was now quarter past three. Instead of feeling better, my mind was racing even faster. I wanted to know who murdered Donna. All the signs of a scuffle were there; lamps knocked over and broken, cat tower leaning, feet sliding and scraping on the carpet, and her high-heeled shoes kicked off. Her hands were at her neck in a way that looked like she was fighting to get the cord off her neck and she probably broke her own necklace in the process scattering pearls all over the room. The injured cat I saw could have been stepped on in the chaos. This was not an accident.

  But could Amber have done it? I needed someone who could help me get more information about her. Fortunately, I saw Ida and Piper when we entered the pub. Ida had a couple of laptops, and some electronics I didn’t recognize. She piped up on seeing me. “Ginger, we got you covered to record the pickled eggs. But where’s the new jar.”

  “Ida, thanks for setting all this up. But I need to talk to you, in private for a few minutes.” Piper looked at me like she didn’t recognize who she was looking at. I got the message. “You can come too, Piper.”

  “You look ruffled.” Piper was genuinely concerned. I must have looked worse than I thought.

  “It’s been a long, weird day for sure. Come on, I want to talk with both of you.”

  Dixie’s voice bellowed through the crowded dining room, holding an empty highball glass in the air. “Ginger, Edith says this one is on the house?”

  “Yeah, I owe her one.” I guess Edith headed straight for the bar while we were talking. She wasn’t going to let me have time to rethink my offer.

  Ida, Piper, and I headed for the office in back of the pub. After closing the door and getting settled, I told them what Edith and I observed. “I realized, what do we really know about Amber?
Who is she? What’s her background? Ida, you know how to work the internet, you think you could do a background check on her?”

  “Is the Pope catholic?” Ida was back to her cocky self.

  Piper cringed. “What? Are you saying you can do it?”

  “Of course I can. How deep you want to go?”

  I leaned forward to make sure Ida could see my eyes. “I’m not looking to break any laws, understand. But why couldn’t we find out everything we can – legally.” I didn’t understand hacking, at all, but I sure didn’t want Ida doing something that could hurt the Grumpy Chicken.

  “Oh, don’t worry. Background checks are standard fare, nothing to worry about. Should take me about ten minutes.”

  “Can you do it right here in the office?”

  “Sure. You know that since I installed the wireless network in the pub for you, we can do it here, or just about anywhere in the building.”

  “Do it. But here in the office so no one sees.”

  Ida left to get her laptop. I glanced to Piper. “She’s good, but I worry about her methods sometimes.”

  “You should. She told me that she once hacked into the IRS database for a friend.”

  “See. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. How can we make sure she doesn’t do something that gets us into trouble?”

  “Relax, even I know background checks are SOP these days.”

  I looked at Piper sideways. “By the way, why are you so buddy, buddy with her today?”

  “Well, duh, you haven’t been available, and Donna’s death is big news for Potter’s Mill. I’m just trying to get all the inside info I can. It will be the entire front page on my next printing of the Oracle.”

  Ida returned and sat at my desk. She fired up her laptop, and in just a couple of minutes said, “She is 44, single, never married. Amber Harlow was enrolled in Clemson, studying pre-law. She had a 3.95 GPA. Wow, smart. But she abruptly left school in her last semester, after a bad car accident it seems – and the lawsuits and medical bills bankrupted her.”