I noticed a plaque showing the Read House was established in 1926. It wasn’t hard to imagine the clientele of that time period. I pictured women attired in dropped waist dresses with a long string of pearls slung around their necks, their scandalous chin-length bobs turning heads.
Dee Dee nudged my arm. “Hey, close your mouth, a fly’s going to take up residence.”
“I don’t remember when I’ve seen anything so grand.” I did a three-sixty turn to soak up the décor.
“I know,” she said. “I wish we had time to investigate, but we have work.” Dee Dee pointed toward the reception desk.
The clerk behind the register smiled as we approached. “Your first time here?”
We nodded.
“Everyone is amazed the first time. Beautiful isn’t it?”
Dee Dee returned his smile. “Yes, it is.”
I could have stood there extolling the magnificence of the Read House all day, but if I didn’t find Annie’s killer, and soon, I’d be a guest in the big house.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Could you tell me if you have George Buchanan listed as a guest?”
He checked his computer and curtly said, “Yes, would you like me to ring his room?” He indicated a small table with a house phone. “Or I can let him know you’re here.”
I nodded. “Well, would you tell him he has guests who would like to see him in the lobby?”
“Your names, please?”
“I-I’m a reporter for Georgia by the Way, name’s Trixie Beaumont.”
His smile grew wider. “Of course. If you’ll take a seat over there I’ll see if he’s in.” He lifted a handset, and we took a seat next to the piano, waiting to see if George would take the bait and talk to us. In less than five minutes the elevator doors opened and he stepped out.
“You.” George didn’t seem too happy to see me. “What are you doing here?”
I felt like saying, “I’m happy to see you, too Bubb,” but I kept my snarky comment to myself. Any information George might have about Annie’s murder was too important to mess up.
“As you know, I work for Georgia by the Way. I’d like to talk to you about Chattanooga. Since you write for a paper in the area, I thought you might have some information I could share with our readers.” I crossed my fingers and hoped he’d respond. I felt kind of bad for using the magazine as a ruse for getting information, but I did plan on writing about Chattanooga and I’d use whatever he could offer.
“You know what, Trixie?” He shook his finger at me. “I don’t believe you. I think you’re here to question me about Annie. You want to save your own hide.”
Busted, Trixie. “You’re right George. I do want to ask you about Annie, but I intended to use any relevant information in my magazine article. I was just covering two bases at once.” I looked around for Dee Dee so she could back me up. I saw her over by the piano lovingly stroking the slick surface of the beautiful instrument. Before I could say Steinway a security guard swooped in to caution Dee Dee.
I excused myself and hurried over to see what trouble she’d stirred up. I walked up just as I heard him say, “Ma’am we don’t allow anyone to touch the piano. This is an antique and it’s just for the pleasure of our guests. As you can see we have a sign saying “do not touch.”
Dee Dee’s face turned a healthy shade of pink. “I’m so sorry. I guess I missed the sign.” She turned toward me. “This is my friend Trixie Beaumont and she works for Georgia by the Way,” she said. “She’s here to interview someone, and I was just admiring the antiques. I own an antique shop. By the way how did you know I was touching the piano? I didn’t see you anywhere.”
The security guard gestured toward a small camera in the corner of the ceiling.
“Sorry.”
“I’m a bit of an antiques buff,” the guard said, obviously charmed by Dee Dee’s apology. “Have you seen the chiffarobe in the foyer? It’s 18th century.”
She turned to me. “Trixie, go ahead and conduct your interview. I’ll be back in a while.” She sashayed off with her new friend.
I turned around and was surprised when I almost bumped into George. I thought he’d probably taken the chance to retreat to his room. “Oh, you’re still here.” Great deduction, Trixie.
We talked a few minutes about his life in Chattanooga. Then I asked the burning question. “George, what can you tell me about Annie’s murder? I know she wasn’t very nice to you.”
His voice raised an octave, “Not nice? That’s putting it mildly. That woman humiliated me in front of the whole class. If she treats other people that way then I’m not surprised the old bat got what she deserved.” Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and his face scrunched up like a dried plum.
Why don’t you tell me how you feel, George. “I’m sure you understand how important it is I find out who might have been capable of… well, fatally harming her?”
“I’ll tell you this much. I saw the red-head going into that skunk’s room that evening after class.”
It was obvious he still harbored resentment toward our teacher. I wondered if he was angry enough to kill her. At least he’d confessed to seeing Tippi in Annie’s room. I wasn’t the only one who’d been in there. She could have easily spiked her tea. But why was he hanging around to see who was coming and going?
“Thanks for your help George. I’ll pass this along to Detective Sams. I’m sure she’ll find it useful.” I hoped she would anyway.
I spotted Dee Dee getting off the elevator and hurrying our way. “Oh, Trixie, you wouldn’t believe the treasures they have here.” She turned to her companion and shot him a smile. “Daniel was kind enough to show me around.”
Dee Dee seemed to have a way with the men. Every time we went out of town she struck up a new friendship, and she still emailed a few of them. It took a while after Gary died for Dee to even think about dating, but once she took that first leap, her social calendar stayed full. I enjoyed seeing her have so much fun.
Dee Dee watched Daniel stride away. “Isn’t he a hottie tottie?” It didn’t matter he was bald and had a little pooch. She watched him giving a couple some directions, and gave him a princess wave when he turned back to us.
“All right, man magnet, get your head out of the clouds and come on down to earth. We have a murder to solve.” I couldn’t help but laugh and she joined right in. Sometimes you just had to laugh to keep from crying and this was one of those times.
“Let’s get back to the hotel and pick up Mama and Nana and take them out to lunch,” I said. “Did you notice any places that looked good on the way here?”
“The English Rose Tea Room is directly across from the Chattanooga Choo-Choo. Let’s try it.” The parking deck offered a little shelter from the wind, but it was still cold. We hurried and got into the car.
“Sounds good to me.” It was such a rush every time I turned the key to my P.T. Cruiser and it started on the first try. My prior car, a little red Jeep, ran on a prayer. After passing my six month probation period and working for Harv for a year, I’d felt secure enough to buy a decent vehicle. It still thrilled me to drive it. I only hoped I would have many more years of enjoying it, prison inmates don’t have much use for a vehicle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
We called Mama and Nana to tell them we were on our way to pick them up for some lunch. When we arrived at the hotel I took the opportunity to grab the pictures for my Ghoston research. I wanted to confirm something that had been niggling at the back of my mind. We decided to bundle up and walk across the road to the tea room.
Dee Dee did a great job of picking a nice place. The English Rose Tea Room was enchanting. The delightful hostess seated us at a window table. A short history was printed on the front of the menu.