“I heard as much. I need to talk with him, though. It sounds like he had every reason to want John dead. Don’t you agree?”

She bobbed her head in agreement, catching my bait. “Yeah, sure. But that doesn’t mean you need to go out there. You’re asking for trouble if you do.”

“Please tell me where ‘there’ is. If it were your friend in trouble, wouldn’t you want to help her?” I must have hit a chord on her heartstrings because I could see her expression soften.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. The Hawkins’ are the meanest folks in these parts. Everyone says they run a still back up in the woods behind their house. They’ve made it clear they don’t want anyone snooping around their property.” Her blue-shadowed eyes widened as she spoke. “Are you familiar with Amicalola Falls?”

I nodded my head yes.

“That’s the road you’ll take. Go five miles out of town until you see the sign. Take a right, and go another ten miles or so and you’ll see the entrance, but don’t turn in. You’re going to go past the entrance and down the road another three or four miles.” She gestured each turn with her hands.

I jotted down the directions in haste. I hoped I’d be able to read them when the time came. Outside the carriage, I had Dee Dee take a few shots of Sueleigh, posing with her horse.

By the time we said good-bye, you’d have thought we were best friends. It didn’t seem to dawn on her that I had asked her questions that could implicate her in a murder. Maybe she wasn’t “the brightest bulb in the room,” but I’d taken a liking to this girl and hoped she didn’t have anything to do with Tatum’s murder.

Dee Dee and I were beat, emotionally and physically, and I needed to get back to the inn and check on Nana. “Come on, assistant.” I hobbled a few steps and Dee Dee took my elbow to help steady me. “Let’s go see what trouble Nana’s cooked up.”

When I limped into the room, Nana sat up sharply.

“Missy, what’s wrong with you? Is your knee acting up again? If it were me, I wouldn’t wait to have surgery.”

“It’s not your knee they’re going to cut open, Nana.” I clipped, and regretted it. She was right, though. I had put it off much too long. My job required a lot of walking, so the condition wasn’t going to get any better as time went by. I made a mental note to consult with the orthopedic surgeon when we got back home. Sooner than later I hoped.

Nana sat on a cot surrounded by an empty pizza box and a big bottle of Coke she’d had for lunch, and practically thrummed with the sugar coursing through her veins. “Well, do you see anything different?”

I assumed she was talking about the roll-away and not the food.

In the crowded room, the extra bed made it impossible to go to the bathroom without turning sideways. The small area had become a breeding ground for stubbed toes and bumped knees.

“And who will be sleeping on the cot, may I ask?”

Nana spoke up. “I don’t mind sleeping on it. I’m tough.”

Dee Dee glanced at me with raised eyebrows, then turned to Nana. “Nana! Don’t be silly. I’ll be glad to.”

“Oh, good grief. I was kidding!” I sank down on the cot, squeaks filling the room, wires poking my backside. “Can’t you guys take a little humor?”

“You most certainly will not. Your knee is killing you. I won’t have you tossing and turning all night. You’ll keep us awake,” Dee Dee winked. She stood with her hands on her hips, looking as if she could take on the world. Who was I to argue? She needed a little control in her life. Since my knee hurt, it was a win-win situation.

“Ladies, let’s save this for later. I’m hungry, and they’re serving dinner now. You don’t want to miss it, do you? Just let me get my pocketbook.”

Dee Dee and I grabbed our purses, too, and together we maneuvered out of the door.

Chapter Nineteen

The dining room held a menagerie of people. The sights and sounds transported me back to Granny Morgan’s where my family would meet for weekly Sunday dinners. The dark oak floors of the dining room shone like polished glass. Off-white wainscoting complimented the flowered wallpaper. Country blue molding and chair rails tied everything together like a photo in Southern Living magazine.

High ceilings, painted to match the wainscot, were accented with heavy oak beams and chandeliers that hung over each large family style table. The smell of frying chicken and freshly baked biscuits swirled around me like ghosts from a time gone by.

My eyes scanned the room, and I observed guests partaking of homemade dishes. Others sat with heads close together, talking and laughing, all of them oblivious to our troubles.

Nana interrupted my thoughts. “Why, there’s Joyce, and that nice, young nephew of hers. He had the cot set up in our room in no time at all. They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Except for Beau, of course,” she added, with a sharp elbow to my ribs.

Joyce approached and led us to a large round table already occupied by Sheriff Wheeler. “Ladies, I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything, be sure and let me know.” She gave us a smile and went off to tend to other guests.

“Good evening.” Sherriff Wheeler greeted us by standing up, offering out a chair to Nana and when she’d accepted, pushed it in with a chivalrous flare.

I gaped after Joyce, now chatting at another table. Why did she seat us here? She had to have made a mistake.

Nana floated out her napkin.

“Nana, get up. We’re going to find another table.” I placed a hand on her chair back.

“Trixie, what’s gotten into you? There’s nothing wrong with this table, and I’m not moving.” She stuck to the seat like glue. She made goo-goo eyes at the sheriff. Not long ago, I thought he was easy on the eyes. Things change. Right this minute he didn’t look so good to me. His sidekick, Deputy Ray, plodded across the room and, with a nod, sat next to him.

“Trixie, sit down. You’re making a scene,” Dee Dee pleaded. Her face paled in the dim light.

How dare he do this to her! Couldn’t he leave us alone long enough to eat in peace? I had a gut feeling this was a set up.

“Trixie, why don’t you introduce your young friend? I don’t believe we’ve met.” The sheriff met my eyes.

Oh puleeeeeeeese.

Nana grinned from ear to ear.

“Sheriff Wheeler, this is my great-aunt. Nana, this is Sheriff Wheeler.” I reluctantly sat down, and settled my napkin. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for John Tatum’s murderer?”

He met my gaze with equal measure, and then turned back to my aunt. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma’am. I see where your niece gets her good looks.” He shook Nana’s hand and held it longer than necessary.

The waiters brought large bowls of mashed potatoes, green beans, potato salad, and baked beans and sat them on the table. Silence ensued for the next few minutes while everyone filled their plates. I needed energy, so I wasn’t going to let this put a damper on my appetite. Looking at the mountains of mashed potatoes piled on the other plates, I could tell no one else was, either.

After several minutes, the sheriff disclosed the reason for this supposedly impromptu meeting. “I heard you’ve been asking some questions of our local citizens.”

“That’s what writers do, Sheriff Wheeler.” I gave him a sickeningly sweet smile.

“You know what I mean. This is serious, and I’m not going to be responsible for what might happen to you.” The sheriff put both hands on the edge of the table and gave me his now famous “I’m not kidding” look.

“All right, I won’t hold you responsible.” I had no intention of giving in yet. I had leads to follow. I returned his look with my best “I’m not giving up” stare.

He continued. “I have some information that might lead us to another suspect. This could possibly clear Dee Dee once and for all. It’s being checked into as we speak.” He leaned in further towards me, returned my gaze, and didn’t look away.