Outside, merchants and artisans lined both sides of the streets. Participants set up their various booths, getting ready for the enormous crowd guaranteed that weekend. Soon, you’d be lucky to see daylight between the excited tourists.

“Wow, I guess Gold Rush Days brings in the crowds.” Dee Dee buttered a homemade biscuit. Golden yellow liquid slid off the sides of the hot treat. I stared at my granola and yogurt. Now my mouth watered.

Dee Dee must have misunderstood my expression. “I know. I know. We planned on a fun weekend. I’m sorry.”

I leaned in closer to Dee Dee, my attention focused on the biscuit. “You can quit apologizing Dee; it’s not your fault someone killed Mr. Tatum.” Temptation overpowered me. I sneaked half a biscuit from her plate, and jammed it into my mouth. “Sorry.” I spoke through the crumbs.

Dee Dee moved the other half out of my reach. “I’m always getting into some sort of trouble. Losing my temper. Causing a scene.”

“Not your fault,” I muffled through a mouthful. “If the attitude he portrayed yesterday is normal behavior, then I suspect a few people wanted to murder him.” I surveyed my plate, then hers. My granola and yogurt looked unappetizing next to Dee Dee’s plate of sausage, biscuits, gravy, hash browns, and scrambled eggs.

“Back in a second,” I murmured and headed back to the breakfast buffet. While there, I overheard a couple of women talking about the murder.

I grabbed two biscuits, put them on my plate, and lingered by the packets of jelly and jam to eavesdrop.

The taller of the two women spoke, heaping a steaming scoop of scrambled eggs to her plate. “It was probably the wife. Well his ex-wife.”

Her companion chimed in with a wag of the grits spoon, and went on about how his ex-wife, Tammy, should really be on the suspect list.

I screwed my lip and selected a handful of strawberry jams. Interesting how she didn’t hold back when it came to telling people how she felt about him. And it wasn’t complimentary either. They moved forward toward the drink dispensers.

Someone gave me a gentle nudge from behind. My cue to move on down the line. I eyed my plate on the way back to the table. My new choices, hash browns, sausage, and buttered biscuits, supplied enough grease for a lube job on a small car. Oh well; what’s a girl to do on vacation? Besides, yesterday’s stress probably added up to some calorie use. At least it made me feel better to think so.

We were quiet as we crammed food into our mouths, much like everyone else in the room. I looked up between bites and spotted Joyce across the crowded room. Her eyes widened. She threw up her hand in greeting and veered our way.

“Here comes Joyce,” I stage whispered.

Dee Dee looked up and scowled. “Well, she can walk on by for all I care. I’m not in the mood to talk.” She stuffed another bite of egg into her mouth, guaranteeing she wouldn’t be able to say a word.

“Grouchy,” I whispered as Joyce approached, but I knew how Dee Dee felt. I wanted to eat in peace, and I especially didn’t want to be reminded of the previous night.

“Hi! How are y’all doing this morning?” Without waiting for an invitation, Joyce plunked down in an empty chair and made herself at home. Dee Dee’s eyes glittered with irritation. “I guess after yesterday’s happening, y’all aren’t doing too good.”

Dee Dee and I exchanged a glance. Her expressive eyes spoke volumes. Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. I fake-wiped my mouth to stifle a giggle.

“You might say that. But breakfast is helping. The food is great. I don’t want it to get cold.” I shoveled some hash browns in my mouth, hoping Joyce would get the message, but she didn’t. Instead she planted her elbows on the table, oblivious to our emotions.

Dee Dee heaved a sigh and ate more sausage. Joyce glanced around the room then leaned in toward us. “I thought I should warn you.”

Dee Dee stopped chewing. “Warn us?” she asked through a mouth full.

“About what?” I flicked a glance to the ladies I’d overheard in line, and saw them staring. Were people already talking about us?

Joyce took a deep breath. “Sheriff Wheeler came by this morning, and we had a long talk. He asked me what took place between Dee Dee and John Tatum. I told him what I knew. I didn’t want to get you girls in trouble, but I felt obligated to tell the truth. The truth is always the right thing to say, don’t you think?”

Joyce squirmed in her chair.

I took a quick gander at her. Petite and downright skinny. Wrinkles lined her face, but they faded next to her beautiful smile. She exuded friendliness that bordered on annoying. That friendliness just might allow us an intimate look inside the community.

Dee Dee’s plump hand reached over and patted Joyce’s skinny one. I recognized the wide-eyed, insincere look on her face. I knew a false endearment was coming. “Sure, Sugar, you did the right thing.”

“It’s terrible.” Joyce’s gray bob swung as she shook her head. “I still can’t believe John Tatum is dead. He was such a leader in the community.” Someone from the front of the room called for her. She scooted her chair back and excused herself. “Be right back, girls.”

Dee Dee folded her napkin and laid it on top of her empty plate. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“I have, too.” I put my fork down, noticing the way the grease from the sausage was congealing on my plate.

“So much for your theory, Trix. I’d wager the sheriff is looking at me as a suspect.” An un-lady like burp erupted from her mouth. “Excuse me.” She blotted the soiled napkin to her mouth.

“And you said I made unpleasant noises?” I crossed my arms and leaned back to stare at her.

“Well, I’m entitled. I could be jailed for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, come on,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster. “That sheriff looks like a smart man. Surely he can figure out you’re no murderer.”

Dee Dee snorted. “Looking smart doesn’t count for anything. Time will tell.” A slight smile came to her lips. “He is good looking. If not for the circumstances, I wouldn’t mind him looking at me.”

I forced a laugh along with her. My breakfast churned in my stomach, and Dee Dee eye’s were dark with concern. Good looking or not, the sheriff and his new information made me nervous. Perhaps we should keep our ears open and learn a little more about John Tatum, just to help the sheriff along.

Chapter Six

Before I could tell Dee Dee my plan, Joyce hurried back to our table and sat down. I heard Dee Dee groan, and I kicked her under the table, sure that Joyce had heard her. Now that I had gone into information collecting mode, I didn’t want to discourage the innkeeper, but once again she was oblivious to anything but herself and began to talk as though she’d never stopped.

“As I was saying, he did a lot of things to help the community. Not everyone liked him, but Mr. Tatum always pitched in if the need arose.” Joyce waved to an older couple across the room and hollered out a hardy ‘hello.’ “He could be overpowering when he exerted his authority and that rankled some feathers.”

My ears perked up like a coon dog on a scent. “Are you saying he made enemies around town?”

“I guess you could say that. He was known for using strong-armed tactics to get what he wanted.” Joyce started stacking plates and swiped up several empty jam and sugar packets. “As you experienced first-hand, he had the personality of Attila the Hun. I suppose you could say he had a heart of gold and a fist of steel. Nonetheless, I felt sorry for him. He was going through some hard times.” Her tone didn’t match her words. I wondered if she really felt sympathy for him.

Dee Dee and I looked at each other, her brows rose and fell. I felt pretty sure we thought the same thing. It was possible that several of the town’s folk wanted John Tatum dead.