Murder in South Carolina Page 2

  “Now where did I put them?” She knew she was muttering, but she didn’t care. Talking aloud kept her from screaming or passing out.

  “I know! The night stand.” She edged her way into the master bedroom and felt until she had her hand on the drawer. She knew this is where she had some candles because her daughter had teased her about them the last time they were here. Emily had said, “Now Mom, what have you been up to? Here’s the candles, where’s the wine and the man?”

  They laughed and Nola Dean had playfully told her to shut her dirty mouth, explaining the candles where here in case of a power outage. Right now she was glad Emily had ragged on her about them. It made her remember where they were.

  She felt the items in the drawer. She had her hand around some matches and was in the process of straightening up when an arm came from behind and encircled her torso. A hand clapped down hard on her mouth.

  Nola Dean thought her heart would lurch out of my chest as she tried to struggle and scream at the same time. She could do neither. The vicelike grip held her firmly in place. She knew at any minute the beating of her heart would split her chest and leave her bleeding on the floor. She had never been as frightened, yet all her senses seemed to be at their highest. She knew the person who held her was wearing a flannel shirt. Though he was only average height, it was a man because she caught the distinctive scent of Polo. She recognized it because Marcus had often worn that fragrance. Her nose also told her the man smoked because there was a faint smell of tobacco.

  She then realized he was transferring his other hand to her face. He put a cloth to her nose. In an instant she smelled something strange. Something she would normally associate with a hospital.

  Oh no. He’s killing me.

  She didn’t have time to think of anything else as she crumpled to the floor.

  Chapter 2

  “Why can’t we leave them both here?” Arthur Brown looked at Mr. Smith. He didn’t see any sense in moving the man’s body.

  “It has to be moved. If it’s found here, they’ll know he had a connection with the condo owner. We don’t want that known.”

  Arthur started to ask why not, but changed his mind. He’d done okay so far by listening to Smith. There was no need to stop now. “Whatever you say, boss.” He began rolling the body onto the big blanket Smith had spread on the floor. “Are we going to kill her too?”

  “No. I gave her enough ether to keep her out for a while. When she does wake up, she may be so confused she won’t remember finding the body.”

  “I sure wish we had some light in here,” Arthur grumbled as he pulled the blanket around the body. “I can’t see what I’m doing.”

  Mr. Smith held the flashlight on the rolled up bundle. “This should help.”

  “Thanks.” Arthur tied the rope around the body so the blanket would stay in place. “He’s a big one. I don’t think I can carry him down to the car alone.”

  “Pull him to the door and I’ll help you after we straighten up. The woman is on the bed and the animals are in there with her. All that’s left to do is to put up the items she brought in and wash the rug under him. I don’t want any tell-tell signs of body fluids on the floor.”

  When they were finished cleaning, the two men carried the body down the stairs and placed it in the back seat of the sedan. “Boy, it’s dark,” Arthur said as he climbed in the passenger side of the car and slammed the door.

  “That’s in our favor. We’ll get rid of the body and then we’ll be able to relax.”

  “I think I want to hit the clubs and get good and drunk.”

  “When we get back to the hotel, I’ll give you your money. Then you can go to all the clubs you like.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They drove toward the inlet and stopped near a public walkway to the beach. “This looks like a good spot.” Mr. Smith pulled over.

  It didn’t take long to get the body to the beach. They untied the blanket, rolled him out onto the sand and left him with his blank eyes staring into the night sky.

  They talked very little on the drive back to the hotel. There were candles burning everywhere in the lobby and with the help of a generator, there were a few lights. Because the elevator wasn’t working, they made their way up the stairs and into the room. Nobody noticed them.

  “Well, Mr. Brown, would you like a glass of wine while I get your money together?”

  Author’s eyes glowed. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the five thousand dollars he’d been promised. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  After lighting the candle on the cocktail table, Mr. Smith uncorked the expensive wine and poured two glasses. He held his up to Arthur. “Here’s to our success. I think we did a good job.”

  “Yep. We sure did. Too bad you couldn’t find what it was you wanted in the condo though.”

  “I’ll find it eventually.” He set the glass down. “Relax and I’ll go into the bedroom and get your money.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Smith. Do you mind if I get a little more wine?”

  “Help yourself.”

  Arthur poured another glass and sat back in the green upholstered chair. He closed his eyes and thought of all the things he was going to do with the money that was about to be his. He was so relaxed he didn’t hear Mr. Smith come up behind the chair.

  “Here’s your money,” Smith said in a quiet voice.

  Arthur set his glass down and reached for the money. He was so delighted to see the money he didn’t notice that Mr. Smith was wearing gloves. With a big smile, he began counting the bills and didn’t see the syringe in Mr. Smith’s hand. His eyes grew wide when he felt the sharp needle slip into his neck. He dropped the money, but it was too late. In only seconds his body quivered and went limp.

  Mr. Smith removed the needle, picked up the money and the wine glasses. He emptied the glasses and poured the remaining wine in the commode. He put the plastic glasses, the bottle and the syringe into the bag from the ice bucket. He then pulled Arthur Brown’s body to the closet and stuffed it inside. He tossed the wallet he’d taken from the dead man on top of Arthur and shut the door, locking it. He slipped the key into the plastic bag with the other items and double-checked the suite. There was nothing here to let anyone know he’d ever been in the room. He picked up his coat, the bag with the wine glasses and the bottle, hung the do-not-disturb sign on the door and hurried down the hall. It was beginning to get light and he wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

  * * * *

  Though September was not considered part of the peak tourist season at North Myrtle Beach, many of the motel parking lots along Ocean Drive attested to the fact it was going to be a busy weekend in the Cherry Grove section. That was why Olive Brunson put out a can of Fancy Feast for Mansford, her black Burmese cat, and left her condo at Tilgman’s Point shortly after five o’clock. She wanted to get in her daily walk before the beach became crowded with tourists. Tucking a wisp of gray hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck, she adjusted the clip-on sunglasses and rounded the point.

  The tide was out and she was delighted to find an unbroken sea shell at the high tide line. She picked it up and examined the perfectly swirled design. “Oh,” she said aloud, “you so seldom find an auger shell which isn’t chipped or broken.” Then she spied a slipper shell and a whelk and of course a lot of coquinas. Olive giggled with glee as she realized the storm of the night before must have deposited them on the sand.

  “This is marvelous,” she said into the breeze. “They’re so lovely.” She bent to pick up another one. “They’ll add a lot of variety to my collection.”

  Olive was intrigued by the number of shells scattered along the beach, some of which were half buried in the sand. It was not often good shells could be found anymore. The waves broke a lot of them and there were too many people in the area picking them up.

  She wished she’d brought a bag with her to collect good specimens, but at least the old blue sweater she wore had big square pockets.

>   Because she was walking slowly, bending often to pick up a shell, and looking directly at her feet, Olive was almost on top of the man’s body before she saw it.

  She gasped and backed up wondering what to do. After catching her breath, she wondered if he was a drunk who had passed out on the beach, but as she looked closer, she realized the glaring eyes didn’t belong to anyone alive.

  For a moment she was rooted to the spot staring into those awful dark eyes. Though she wanted to, she couldn’t scream. Finally she was able to divert her eyes from the corpse long enough to glance around. There was no one on the beach. Shaking herself back to reality, she knew she had to go back home and phone the police. It was the first time in her life she wished she’d agreed to let her sister give her a cell phone.

  Within minutes of her call, sirens sounded on Ocean Drive.

  Olive headed back to where the body lay. She knew there was little she could do to help the officers, but she wanted to be there in case they needed to question her. This was part of the civic duty she’d tried to impress on her history classes in the years she’d spent in the classroom. Being retired for fifteen years didn’t give her the right to shirk her duty.

  She’d been correct in thinking they would want to talk with her. As soon as she was back at the beach, a pretty young woman with short brown hair came up and introduced herself as Officer Bett Willis.

  “Are you Mrs. Brunson?”

  “Yes. I found the body and called you.”

  “Do you mind answering a few questions?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you happen to know who the man is?”

  “No, officer, I’ve never seen him before. I was on my regular morning walk when I came upon the body,” Olive said.

  “Did you see anyone else out at the same time you were?”

  “No. The beach was deserted. I don’t have one of those cell phones so that’s why I had to run back home to phone you.”

  “I see. Thank you, Mrs. Brunson.” The officer asked for Olive’s address and closed her notebook. “Please wait around if you don’t mind. When the detective is through going over the scene I’m sure he’ll want to talk with you.”

  “I’ll be glad to wait.” Olive backed away and watched as an ambulance and a news van pulled onto the sand at the same time. Only a few minutes passed until she saw the man she figured was the medical examiner nod at the white-coated attendants. They returned his nod, put a sheet over the man’s body, lifted it onto a gurney and hoisted it into the waiting vehicle.

  A news crew was filming everything including the crowd that had gathered. Olive wondered if they would talk to her, but decided they probably were not going to. They kept following Bett Willis and the other police officer around outside the yellow crime scene tape.

  Olive glanced at the crowd and recognized a few neighbors. Others she classified as the tourists who were taking advantage of the off-season rents at the high-rise condominiums in the area.

  Olive didn’t know, with all that was going on, why she could only think of one thing. The tourists are out now and I won’t be able to find any more pretty shells. By the time the police are through with me, they’ll have all been picked up.

  * * * *

  Dolly Overton didn’t usually get out of bed before nine or ten o’clock, but today was different. She awoke around six and tried for a while to go back to sleep. When thirty minutes passed and she was still unable to doze back off, she gave up and got up.

  By seven-thirty she had her shower and was in the kitchen at the breakfast bar having her second cup of coffee. A slice of country ham was sizzling in the cast iron frying pan and was almost ready to be taken up to join the waffles she’d already put on her plate.

  Seldom did Dolly indulge herself with such a large breakfast, but two years earlier it had been different. At that time she ate this way almost every morning, then one day she got up and looked at herself in the mirror. At that moment she decided she was tired of being the fat Mrs. Overton. Without fanfare or announcements she set herself up a program to lose weight. In two years she’d managed to go from dress size twenty-two to a size eight. And she’d done it without the aid of fad diets or fancy exercise programs. She’d simply cut her eating in half and walked on the beach for an hour every day.

  Without feeling guilty, Dolly spread butter on the waffles and dowsed them with maple syrup. She took the ham from the pan and sat down to her meal.

  She knew she’d make up for this breakfast later today by walking longer and having a salad with no dressing for lunch.

  As she picked up her knife, she said aloud, “This is all your fault, Walter. If you’d come home last night, I’d be having my poached egg and fruit across the table from you. Instead, I’m eating like a pig.” She laughed and added, “And I’m enjoying every bite of it.”

  She finished her breakfast, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and headed toward her room to put on casual clothes for her walk. The telephone rang.

  “Hi, Mrs. Overton. It’s Emily Buckingham.”

  “Well, hello, Emily. It’s good to hear from you.”

  “I’m sorry to call you so early.”

  “It’s okay. I was up.”

  “I’m glad because I have to go get in another line in a few minutes to register for classes and I’m not sure how long it will last. I need a favor.”

  Puzzled, Dolly asked. “What can I do for you?”

  “I think Mom took off to the beach last night even with the weather so bad.”

  “You know how headstrong your mother is. If she wanted to come down, she did.”

  “I know. I heard about the bad storms in the area and I can’t get through to her. I even tried her cell. I wondered if you’d heard from her.”

  “No, but from what I understand the phones are out in the northern section of the beach and you know your mom, she probably left her cell in her car.”

  “I can’t help being a little worried. Will you call her for me?”

  “Of course. Now, don’t you worry. Your Mother is fine. I’ll try to get her this morning and let her know you called.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Overton.”

  “You’re welcome, my dear. Now you go on and do your college thing. I’ll call your mother.” Dolly hung up the phone and moved toward the stairs.

  Shaking her head she commented aloud, “If a college student can be that considerate of her mother, why can’t my husband be considerate of me?” Half way to her room she added, “Of course the weather could have kept him from calling. Maybe the phones are out in Columbia. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she seemed to be giving Walter the benefit of the doubt a lot lately.

  Chapter 3

  While Nola Dean was unconscious she dreamed she was with Marcus again. They were sharing the same passionate love they’d always had. Then cars began coming into their driveway with tires screeching. Marcus was getting the morning paper and Nola Dean tried to run out of the house to warn him to move. Marcus turned and smiled at her and didn’t seem to understand. Then Emily began to cry for her daddy. She wanted him to come to college and get her. Nola Dean wanted to help Emily, but she couldn’t. Something was pressing her down.

  Deep in the recesses of her mind she heard the telephone ringing, but she couldn’t open her eyes. She wanted to move and knew she needed to, but she couldn’t. She thought it was because of the weight holding her down. She didn’t know what the weight was, and the phone stopped ringing.

  As Nola Dean began to grow conscious, she realized what was on her stomach. Bubbles. Often when she slept on her back he would make himself a bed on her stomach and the reverse was true. She didn’t mind, but he did get heavy. Main Coons tended to weigh in the high teens, but he topped the scales at twenty-seven pounds.

  Nola Dean sat up and her head was throbbing. That was unusual for her. When her friends complained of headaches, she couldn’t offer much sympathy because she
seldom was struck with one. This morning was different. Today she awakened in real pain. When she got to a sitting position and tried to focus her thoughts, it dawned on her that something was wrong.

  Maxie, unaware of her confusion, jumped up from his position at the foot of the bed and wagged his nub of a tail as if to say, “Can we go for a walk now?”

  Bubbles arched his back, yawned and rubbed his head on her arm asking for his regular morning petting. Unconsciously, she began to scratch his head and play with his ears. He purred his usual purrs.

  Demanding the same attention, Maxie moved to her other side and jabbed her arm with his nose. She rubbed his head with her other hand.

  At the same time she glanced down and realized she was still wearing the slacks and sweater she’d changed into for her drive. Instantly, the events of the night before flooded her mind and she knew why she had the headache.

  There was a body in her living room and somebody had tried to kill her. For a moment she went numb, but that didn’t last long. She looked around for something to protect herself from the intruder. Trying to be quiet, she pulled open the drawer of the night stand. She didn’t see a weapon, but she did see the candles and matches.

  “Wait a minute,” she whispered. “I took those out last night. Something’s not right here.”

  The body came back to her mind. She wished she had a telephone in the bedroom, but until now, she’d never needed one. She’d have to face what was in the living room and then call the police from there.

  With a deep breath, she got up and moved toward the other part of the condo. The animals jumped from the bed and followed her.

  Opening the bedroom door, she hurried out before she lost her nerve. The living room, the adjoining dining area and the kitchen were empty.

  Dumfounded, Nola Dean went to the spot where she thought the body should be. There was nothing to see except the Wedgwood blue carpet. There were a few stains, but she knew most of them had been on the carpet for some time. She rubbed her hand across the floor. It was a little damp, but there was no sign of the blood she expected to find. She wondered if someone had washed the floor, but she knew how hard it had been raining when she came in. The dampness could have been from her dripping clothes.