“How cute, Edna,” Dee Dee said.

“Thank you. I’ve lived here for fifteen years. It’s the only home I have.” Edna plopped on the couch as if her legs wouldn’t hold her up another minute. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.” She pulled a wadded up handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry. We all need a good cry every now and then.” Dee Dee sat down beside her. “And under the circumstances, you have every reason.”

I thought of all the times I’d boohooed on Dee Dee’s shoulder. Even though she’d been through her own trials when her husband Gary died suddenly almost three years ago. I strived to follow her strength and faith.

Edna sniffed. “I’m not crying over her murder. That woman never caused anything but grief and sorrow to those who crossed her path.” She blew her nose and emitted a sound akin to a pig snort.

“Did she make your life hard?”

Edna shot Dee Dee a look like she was plum crazy. “Hard? She made my life miserable. If I ever threatened to quit, which I did quite often, she said she would tell everyone I stole from her. She’d make sure I’d never work on the island again. Can you imagine what it was like to live under those circumstances?” We shook our heads in unison. She continued.

“I’m sorry about Ms. Laura being fingered for killing the old bat. I can’t imagine her killing a fly. I’ll help you in any way I can. As a matter of fact, if you do find out who did it I sure would like to shake their hand.” She released a maniacal laugh. I wondered if the stress had made her a little uneven. Considering her giddy behavior, I easily pictured her knocking off Grace.

“Trixie? Edna asked you a question.”

“Uh, sorry. What did you ask?”

“She asked what she could do to help. You know, with the investigation.” Dee Dee shot me a questioning look.

“Oh. Right.” I scooted to the edge of the chair. “Edna, could you give us a list of people who might have had a run-in with Grace in the past?”

Dee Dee rummaged around her gigantic purse and popped out a notepad and pen. I’ve never been with Dee Dee when she wasn’t carrying a larger than life pocketbook, usually color coordinated with her outfit.

“Well, shoot. I expect you don’t have enough paper in that little notebook of yours to write down all the names.” Dee Dee and I exchanged glances. This wasn’t going to be an easy task. “Now let me see.” She looked up as if the names were written on the ceiling.

“The first person that pops into my mind is Mary Sue. She was a cook at Flounders, a local seafood restaurant.”

“Do you know Mary Sue’s last name?” Dee Dee’s pen was poised ready to write.

“Sure, it’s Bartlett. Mary Sue Bartlett. Anyway, Grace had it in for poor ole Mary Sue.” She shook her head at Mary Sue’s plight. “She used to help out here and I treasured her help as much as her friendship. Everything was fine until she took the job at Flounders.” She had a faraway look in her eyes.

“What did her job have to do with Grace?”

“Well, that’s just it. She had all these wonderful recipes she introduced at the restaurant. The dishes became big hits with the customers, and the owners promoted her to head chef. Before long, a producer invited her to host a local cooking show. She was ecstatic, and all her friends were happy for her.

“Of course, she quit her job here. I missed her, but was glad she wasn’t stuck here like me. It wasn’t long until the feathers started to fly. Grace found out that the recipes she’d been using at the restaurant and on the cooking show were ones Mary Sue had developed when she worked here. Grace had all new hires who worked in the kitchen sign a contract, and the fine print stated her recipes couldn’t be shared outside the Inn. She claimed they were original family secrets, and she didn’t want anybody else discovering the ingredients.”

Dee Dee shook her hand as if she had a cramp, and caught my eye, her brow raised.

“I imagine Grace didn’t take too kindly to that. But I don’t see how she could prove they were her recipes. A lot of dishes are made with similar ingredients.” Didn’t sound like much of a case at this point.

“Grace could’ve let it go, but it wasn’t her way. She hounded poor Mary Sue to death. She threatened a lawsuit. She literally stalked the woman. Eventually, Mary Sue couldn’t take it anymore. She finally quit her job at the restaurant and the cooking show. Poor thing, she became so depressed there were times I thought she’d trip over her lip.”

Dee Dee shoved the pad toward me. “You write. My hand is cramped up.” I grabbed the items. “What happened to Mary Sue?”

“She wound up working at a fast food joint. She barely makes enough to feed herself and her kid. She was furious with Grace. Said she’d get even with her.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

That sure doesn’t bode well for Mary Sue.” I settled the notepad on my knee. “Do you know any other people who might have a burr under their saddle concerning Grace?”

“You better believe it. She collected enemies like most people collect seashells. Grace couldn’t even keep a husband without running him off.” My head popped up. Dee Dee shot me a glance.

I knew enough about murders to know that the spouse or ex-spouse is often the first person to be suspected. “Does he live around here?”

“I think it’s somewhere in Savannah, but I’m not sure. They used to have the most awful knock-down, drag-out fights. They didn’t seem to care who knew. They would argue right in front of the guests and God himself. I often wondered who would kill the other one first. Finally, he just up and left.”

“Hmm, doesn’t sound like they separated too amicably,” Dee Dee said.

“That’s the truth,” Edna said.

“Edna, could you tell us what his name is?”

“Bert. Bert Watkins.”

“Yoo hoo. Anybody home?” I knew that voice anywhere. Nana.

Edna jumped up. “Oh, my. I’ve neglected the guests too long. I need to go see about them. Please excuse me. I hope I’ve been some help to ya’.”

Dee Dee and I stood up and followed Edna to the kitchen.

There Nana stood, making herself at home. “Hi, Trixie. Betty Jo said I could probably find you here.” She twirled around in a circle. “Would you take a look at this kitchen? Every kind of cooking tool you could dream of.”

An island with a marble countertop stood in the middle of the large kitchen. Copper pots and pans hung around the top of the island. An industrial-sized refrigerator and stove stood against the walls. A kitchen any woman would love to find in her home.

“Nana. Why were you looking for us?”

George came in and stood beside her. “I have the most wonderful news.” She shot him a hundred watt smile. “George wants to take us to the Crab Shack tonight. It’s supposed to have the best seafood on the island. All kinds of celebrities have eaten there.”

George placed his arm around Nana’s shoulder. “That’s right, ladies. I’ve been told this establishment meets the highest of standards. I would love to be accompanied by a group of lovely ladies, if you will do me the honor.”

“That sounds great. Don’t you think so, Trixie?”

“Yes, I do. You won’t see me turning down a good seafood meal. I’ve heard of the Crab Shack. They keep live alligators the customers can feed.”

While we talked about the Crab Shack’s fare, Edna returned to the kitchen. She walked over and addressed George. “Mr. Knight, I noticed you came out of Mr. Porter’s room this morning. Were you lookin’ for him?” For a fleeting second I thought I saw a look of anxiety cross George’s face, but then it was gone just as quick.

“Yes, I was looking for John. Do you know where he might have gone? Or when he might get back? I have a matter I wish to discuss with him.”

I wondered if he really wanted to talk with John Porter or if he had another motive. I liked George, but there was something about him that prompted me to keep an eye on him. I didn’t want Nana hurt by the English Romeo.