He awoke shortly before 11:00 PM with an empty stomach.
Some ten minutes later Wes pulled into a diner where a neon sign flashed the words: We Never Close. Inside, a jukebox wailed a Patsy Cline song, competing with the loud, steady hum of voices and occasional laughter.
Wes glanced about, noted the full booths, and took a seat at the long counter. A TV set anchored to the ceiling played the eleven o’clock news. He tried to listen once the Patsy Cline song came to an end, but Jimmy Buffet took her place.
A young waitress with hair that had been bleached one too many times sauntered toward Wes, the gleam in her eyes making it clear she liked what she saw. Her uniform was short, the top button undone, giving Wes an unimpeded view of plump, youthful breasts. “What’ll you have?” she asked.
He averted his gaze. “Large milk and a stack of pancakes.”
“Want hash browns with that? We’re running a special.”
“No thanks.”
She stood there for a minute, tapping a pencil against her bottom lip. Her mouth was slick with gloss. “You’re new in town, aren’t ’cha?”
He glanced up at the TV. “Yeah. Just visiting.”
She smiled. “I saw your bike when you pulled in. Awesome. I love motorcycles, but I’ve never ridden on one.”
Wes kept his eyes glued to the TV. “Will my order take long? I’m in a hurry.”
“No problem. I’ll put a rush on it.” She scribbled something on her pad and turned.
Wes blinked and straightened on his stool when Lamar Tevis’s face suddenly flashed on the screen. “Hey, wait, can you turn up the volume on the TV real quick?”
“We’re not supposed to.”
Wes smiled. “Please.”
She ambled toward it, reached for the remote control, and turned it up a notch. Lamar’s face disappeared, was instantly replaced with a photo of Donna Schaefer, followed by what appeared to be a home video of her leaving a hospital with a baby wrapped in a blue blanket tucked in her arms. She pulled the blanket back, and there was a close-up shot of the baby, red-faced and squint-eyed, his tiny fist pressed to his mouth. A smiling Norm Schaefer stepped into the frame, wearing the look of a proud new father.
Wes strained to listen, but the jukebox drowned out the sound. “I still can’t hear the TV,” he told the waitress when she delivered his milk.
“You wouldn’t be able to hear a freight train coming through with that music blaring,” she said. “Just hold on.” She disappeared through a swinging door. In less than a minute, the jukebox died. Several people began to complain.
“I’m sorry,” the waitress shouted, arms flailing as though she had no idea what was going on. “I’ll bet the dang thing blew another fuse.”
Wes grinned and slapped a ten-dollar bill in her palm.
Annie, Theenie, Lovelle, and Destiny were crowded around the TV set in the sunroom as the newscaster gave the latest details on the investigation of the murder of Charles Fortenberry. Jamie and Max had called only minutes ago to let Annie know the local news station was airing a news conference.
All four women were quiet as they watched Lamar step up to a microphone while one young officer in the background did his best to make sure the camera got a shot of his face. He smiled, waved, and mouthed the words, Hi, Mom.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lamar began in an authoritative voice. “As you know, this office has been investigating the murder of thirty-year-old Charles Fortenberry, who was found buried in his wife’s backyard less than two weeks ago. Mr. Fortenberry had been missing for more than three years. Thanks to the hard work of my excellent investigative team, we have solved the case. In record time, I might add.”
“Excellent investigative team, my butt,” Jamie muttered.
Lamar glanced down at his notes. “At approximately three PM today, thirty-five-year-old Donna Schaefer, a lifelong resident of Beaumont, was admitted to Beaumont Memorial Hospital for fatigue and depression. A staff physician immediately saw her, and our office was contacted. Mrs. Schaefer gave a statement to me from her hospital bed, admitting that she was responsible for the death of Charles Fortenberry.”
“Well, now we know,” Theenie said.
“Mrs. Schaefer’s husband has retained an attorney,” Lamar went on, “so I’ll answer a couple of questions, and then I’ll give him the microphone.”
“Chief Tevis,” one of the reporters called out. “Does this mean Mr. Fortenberry’s widow has been cleared of murder charges?”
“Yes.” Lamar pointed to a reporter nearby.
“Has anyone located the missing remains?” another reporter asked.
Lamar looked uncomfortable. “I’m sort of hesitant to talk about it until I am one hundred percent certain, but the van was very recently discovered abandoned less than one hundred miles from here in Baxter County. It has been searched, and it is my understanding that it is indeed the van, and the contents inside are intact. I’m waiting for verification from the Baxter County sheriff.”
“Oh my gosh!” Annie said. “Lamar finally did something right.”
“Chief Tevis,” a female reporter called out. “Does anyone know at this time the actual cause of death to the victim?”
A camera swung in the woman’s direction.
“She’s the reporter from Charleston,” Annie said.
Lamar hesitated. “Well . . .”
“Isn’t it true Mr. Fortenberry’s injuries were not life threatening?”
Lamar looked surprised. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“I understand the medical examiner was unable to state the cause of death,” the woman continued.
“Boy, she’s a real ball buster,” Destiny said, drawing raised brows from Theenie.
Lamar was clearly flustered. “We don’t have all the answers right now,” he said. “That’s why the remains were being sent to the Medical University in Charleston to begin with. I have nothing more to say.” He stormed away from the microphone.
Lamar was replaced by a balding man with oversize glasses who wasted no time getting started and spoke quickly. “My name is Randolf Pierce, and I’ve been retained to represent Mrs. Schaefer in this case. I met with her only briefly before she made her statement to the police. I do not share Chief Tevis’s optimism that this is a cut-and-dried case, so to speak; this investigation is ongoing.”
The camera flashed to a frowning Lamar.
“Because we still have many questions, most of which will have to wait until my client’s condition is stable, I will not be answering questions specific to the case.” A disgruntled murmur rose from the crowd. “All I’m prepared to say is that Mrs. Schaefer is being treated by a fine group of doctors, and it will be up to them as to how long she remains in the hospital and when she can answer further questions.” He paused and looked through the crowd. “I would like to say, on my client’s behalf, that she willingly came forward and insisted on talking to the police, despite serious medical problems. Thank you for your time.”
Several reporters voiced questions, but they went ignored as Pierce stepped away from the microphone.
The telephone rang and Lovelle rolled her eyes and picked it up. She immediately put her hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Annie. “It’s Wes. He says it’s important.”
Annie took the phone and gently placed the receiver in the cradle.
• • •
Wes was waiting for Lamar in the reception area the next morning when he came in at seven. “I need to talk to you,” Wes said.
“Hey, did you see me on TV last night?” Lamar asked.
“Yep.”
“How about that smart-aleck woman from Charleston? Boy, I ripped her a new one, didn’t I?”
“Oh yeah.”
Lamar checked his watch. “Now, where is Delores? She’s supposed to bring in sausage biscuits. I’ll spend the rest of the day fighting heartburn, but it’s worth it. By the way, several of my friends taped the news conference last night in case you want to watch it
again. You know, in case you have company or something. Let’s grab a cup of brew and go into my office.”
Wes waited until they had their coffee and were seated in Lamar’s office before he pulled out his wallet, flipped it open, and handed it to the other man.
Lamar arched both brows. “A PI, huh? I should have known.”
“Before that I was a cop. Worked homicide for a number of years.”
“Someone from Beaumont hired you for a job?” When Wes hesitated, Lamar handed him his wallet, got up, and closed the door. “Everything you say stays in this room.”
“Eve Fortenberry contacted me a few weeks ago,” Wes said. “Asked me to look into her son’s disappearance.”
Lamar reclaimed his seat. “I’m not surprised. She’s taking it pretty hard.” He stared into his coffee cup for a long time. He looked sad. “The more I look at this case, the more questions I have.”
“Such as?”
“Fortenberry was alive when Donna Schaefer left the scene; she saw him blinking his eyes. But like I said, he didn’t die from injuries sustained in the fall.”
“Fall?”
Lamar nodded. “When he didn’t show up she drove over and confronted him. Even went into his bedroom to see if he’d packed, which he hadn’t. Hell, I don’t know if he changed his mind about leaving or if he met someone else. Sure can’t ask him.” He shrugged. “Anyway, she says the whole thing was an accident. Charles told her he didn’t love her and never had. They got into some kind of tussle, ’cause she said she left a bad scratch on his face.
“So he told her to get the hell out, and when she wouldn’t, he stomped out of the room toward the stairs. She caught up with him and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. He struggled to pull free and fell. She flipped out and ran.”
“Does Mrs. Schaefer know she wasn’t responsible for his death?”
“She’s in the psych ward and in no condition to talk. She was a mess when she came in, but it was obvious she was trying to hold herself together long enough to get it all out. It must’ve been eating at her.” He shook his head sadly.
“So what do you think killed him?” Wes asked after a moment.
“Don’t know. At first I wondered if he could have had a heart attack, but he had a complete physical less than a month before his death, and he was in excellent health. We also don’t know who buried the body. Mrs. Schaefer swears she didn’t do it.”
“Are you thinking there was more than one person involved?”
“Had to be. Fortenberry was six foot two and weighed one-eighty at his last physical. And get this. Mrs. Schaefer has back problems from a car accident some years ago. Has to see one of them chiropractors every so often,” he added. “Bottom line is, nobody is going to convince me that some one-hundred-and-ten-pound weakling with back problems dragged that body from the house, across the backyard, and buried it.”
“You’re wrong,” Wes said. “The bottom line is we still have a murderer out there.”
Annie was hard at work in the kitchen when someone knocked on the back door. She washed her hands and dried them, then hurried to answer. She was surprised to find Wes standing there. Okay, maybe surprised didn’t aptly describe her, because her stomach gave an immediate lurch and her heartbeat quickened. Not a good sign. Definitely not good. Best to get rid of Wes fast, before some other body part went haywire on her. She started to close the door, but he pressed one hand against it, holding it fast.
“We need to talk.”
She wished he didn’t have to look so good. “When pigs fly, Bridges.” She tried once more to close the door, but he continued to block it.
“I’m prepared to stand here as long as it takes.”
The determined look on his face told her he meant it. “This is a bad time, okay?” she said. “The wedding of the century is being held here tomorrow, and I’ve got a ton of work to do.” She gave him a tight smile. “Now, why don’t you run along? Surely you can find somebody to spy on.”
“I’m not going to apologize for renting the room under false pretenses,” he said. “I’m a professional, and I was hired to do a job, namely find out what happened to your husband.”
“Which meant snooping on me,” she reminded. “You got a lot of nerve coming here, you know that?”
“You’re still mad at me.”
“Duh. If I weren’t practicing anger management I’d pull out my rolling pin. I might just have to have a relapse and do it anyway.”
“Put yourself in Eve’s place.”
“No thank you. The woman is nutso.” But she had put herself in Eve’s place as much as she could, and her anger and resentment toward the woman had cooled. Not all of it, though.
“Her son and only child had been missing more than three years when she hired me, Annie. She was sick with worry.”
“And positive I was behind his disappearance. That stinks. At least I don’t have to feel guilty for all the mean things I’ve said about her.”
“I think some of the blame should fall on her son for telling her how unhappy he was in his marriage.”
“Don’t worry; I’ve said plenty of bad things about Charles, too.”
Wes looked like he might smile and then seemed to think better of it. “What would you have done differently, Annie? Had it been your son? And knowing Lamar Tevis was in charge of the investigation,” he added.
“I certainly wouldn’t have accused me.”
“It took me about five minutes after meeting you to realize you weren’t responsible for his disappearance. I would have decided sooner had I been conscious.”
“I think that would have been a perfect time to tell the truth.”
“I wanted to.”
“What you wanted was to get me into bed.”
“That, too.”
Annie glanced at the clock on the wall. “Are we done yet?”
He stepped closer. “Darlin’, we haven’t even started.”
Her toes tingled at the endearment, at the look in his eyes that made her stomach feel like warm taffy. “I’m busy, Wes.”
“I have to tell you something,” he said. “About Charles.”
Annie couldn’t hide her irritation. “I’m tired of talking about Charles, okay? I just want to get on with my life.”
“Donna Schaefer didn’t kill him, Annie. I think someone else came in after she left. Probably the same person who dragged him to the backyard and buried him.”
Annie felt a chill race up her spine. “Norm?”
“Could be. I want you to be careful. He’s already mad because I pulled him into the investigation, and because you made him look stupid at Jimbo’s. Erdle told me.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said.
“You won’t have to. Danny is so love-sick over you he’ll come running every time you call.”
“Danny is gone.”
Wes’s brows drew together. “Gone where?”
“He had a job offer in Charleston.”
“Where in Charleston?”
“I don’t know,” she said impatiently. “He just left, okay? I don’t have any way of reaching him.” She felt a lump in her throat. “Can we not talk about it right now?”
“Annie—”
“Look, I’m not mad anymore, okay? And I appreciate your giving me the heads-up about Norm. But I really have a ton of work to do, and I just need to be alone for a while.” What she needed was to be away from him. So she could think.
Wes nodded. “I’m, uh, on my way to Columbia,” he said. “Something came up with a case that I thought was over and done with.”
Annie felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. He was leaving. “I see,” she said, keeping her voice even.
“I’ll be back.”
“Of course.”
“I’m coming back because I don’t want to be away from you.”
She tried to look away, but she couldn’t let go of his eyes, and the thought of him leaving, even for a day, made her want to reach out to him an
d ask him to stay.
“My timing is probably way off, but I want you to think about something while I’m gone, Annie,” Wes said softly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet jeweler’s box.
Annie’s stomach dived to her toes and her lips went numb. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” She looked at his face. “Is that what I think it is?”
He smiled. “Only one way to find out.”
Annie started to reach for it and then snatched her hand away. “Um, I don’t think—”
“Afraid?” he said gently.
All the air had been sucked from her body. She gulped in a mouthful. “Terrified,” she managed.
“Take a chance, Annie. Take a chance on me. On us.”
“It feels like things are moving so fast.”
“I think sometimes you just know,” Wes said.
She had heard those words before. Annie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Why don’t you think about it?” He set the box on the table. “You know how to reach me.”
When Lovelle and Theenie came downstairs some time later, they found Annie sitting at the kitchen table staring at the box.
“Holy cow, is that what I think it is?” she said, echoing Annie’s own words.
“I think so,” Annie said, “but I’m afraid to look.”
Theenie put a hand to her mouth. “Wes asked you to marry him?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, what did you say?” Lovelle demanded impatiently.
Annie was prevented from answering when Destiny plodded down the last couple of stairs, groaning aloud. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “I was up half the night talking to Lacey, but I finally, after Lord knows how many hours, got through to her.”
“How did you manage that?” Theenie asked.
“Well, the name Fairchild kept popping up in my mind, and I kept getting a funny feeling about it, so I did a little research and discovered the Fairchild family lived in this area when the house was a bordello. I suspected Jonathan Fairchild was a customer. I managed to get a picture, and when I showed it to Lacey she became agitated. Finally, she pointed to the marks on her neck.”