Murder in South Carolina Page 8

  “I mean every word of it. I think people like you should be locked up. I don’t know why her parents…”

  At that moment the elevator door opened and Joe Randell appeared at the end of the hall.

  Nola Dean smiled at him. “Officer Randell, would you please ask this man to leave? He’s harassing me.”

  Joe eyed the blond giant standing in front of Nola Dean’s door. “I think the lady wants you to go,” he said firmly.

  “She may say that, but she doesn’t mean it. We’ve had a lovers’ spat. She’ll get over it and...”

  “Link, I’ve tried to be civil, but at the moment I’m losing my patience. I told you I never want to see you again. I don’t know how I could make it any plainer.”

  “You’re just upset, my dear. We can work it out...”

  “There’s nothing to work out...”

  “Yes there is.”

  “Excuse me,” Joe turned to Link. “I think Ms. Buckingham has made it quite clear that she doesn’t want you here. You need to leave now.”

  “As I said...”

  Joe looked at Nola Dean. “Do you want me to arrest him?”

  “If he doesn’t go away, I certainly do.”

  Joe turned back to Link. “You have a choice, Mister. You can leave as you’ve been asked to do or I can take you down to the station.”

  “You have no right to talk to me that way.”

  Joe took out his badge and flashed it at Link. “This is your last chance. Either leave or I’ll read you your rights.”

  Link looked startled. “You’re serious.”

  “I never kid about an arrest.”

  “Nola Dean...”

  “He means it, Link. Now please go away.”

  Without another word, Link turned and headed to the elevator.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at Joe. “I’m so glad you showed up when you did.”

  “That’s what the police are for. To serve and protect.” He smiled at her. “If you don’t mind my asking, who was that guy?”

  “Just someone I used to think I might fall in love with.”

  “You don’t think so anymore?”

  “Absolutely not. He’s…well, he’s too disgusting to describe.” She stood back. “Would you like to come in?”

  “I think we should go, if you’re ready.”

  “I’ll get my purse and be right with you.”

  They were in the car on the way to identify the body when Joe asked, “How is Mrs. Overton today?”

  “I haven’t seen her today, but I’ll go by after I run these errands for her.”

  “I appreciate you agreeing to do the identification. I’m sure she does, too.”

  “She’s still pretty shaken from the accident and then she finds out that Walter is dead. It’s been almost more than she can handle.”

  “You’re a good friend to do it.”

  “I’m really a sucker. People can always talk me into doing things for them if they play on my sympathy.” She looked at Joe and chuckled. “Guess what else she has asked me to do.”

  “What?”

  “Make the funeral arrangements for her.”

  “That’s strange. Are you going to do it?”

  “What choice do I have? She’s still claiming the wreck has her confined to bed.”

  “Is she staying alone?”

  “At the moment, Megan Eller, an associate of her husband’s is with her. A college friend of hers called and said she’d be here for the weekend.”

  “Does she have parents?”

  “Her father is still living, but he remarried a few years ago. I’m not sure he’ll even come to the funeral.”

  * * * *

  Joe looked at her and changed the subject again. He was thinking how beautiful she looked, but of course he couldn’t say it. Instead he said, “I believe Overton’s body was the one you fell on when you came to your condo.”

  “I was afraid it was,” she whispered.

  “Can you think of any reason why he would have been in your condo?”

  “I’ve racked my brain. He and Dolly have visited a couple of times, but I don’t know why he would have been here the other night.” She looked at Joe. “Do you know why?”

  “No. I was hoping you might be able to give me an idea.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “How would he have gotten inside?”

  “He and Dolly have a key to the place in case there is a storm or something and I can’t get to the coast. I don’t think they’ve ever used it or if they have, I didn’t know it.”

  “I see. Then of course he wouldn’t have any trouble getting in,” he said.

  “No, he wouldn’t.”

  “Maybe he was checking to see if everything was okay after the storm.”

  “I thought of that, but the storm was still going on when I got to the beach. Why would he check before it was over?”

  “It does seem strange. It’s another angle we’ll have to figure out. We’ll put this piece with the rest of the puzzle and work on it later.” He didn’t tell Nola Dean about the couple staying in the condo next door. He now believed that it was Walter they’d seen on the balcony.

  He wanted to change to a lighter subject. “Bett told me you have a daughter in college. I didn’t believe her and accused her of lying.”

  Nola Dean laughed. “I started my family young.”

  “When? Age ten?”

  She laughed again. “How sweet of you to say that, but I was not quiet that young. I was nineteen.”

  Knowing that would probably put her in her mid-thirties, the thought slid across his mind that she was the right age for his forty. He shook the thought away. “Well, I must say, you look almost like a college student yourself.”

  “Thank you, Detective Randell. That makes me feel good.”

  They talked of light subjects until he pulled into a parking lot and parked.

  Nola Dean didn’t like the morgue when she stepped inside. She had to fight herself to keep going. When they turned back the sheet and she looked at the face she recognized Walter, though his face was pasty white and swollen. She mumbled, “That’s Walter.”

  Looking away, she wobbled and Joe wondered if she was going to throw up.

  He took her arm and led her to a bench outside the building. The feel of her smooth skin on his hands make his spine tingle. He pushed his thoughts aside and put on his professional face. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.”

  “The first time you see a body like that is rough.”

  “I hope it was the last time for me.” She looked up at him.

  Joe smiled. “Maybe it will be.”

  * * * *

  They hardly talked on the drive back to her condo. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe asked when he pulled into the underground parking garage for her building and stopped near the elevator.

  “Yes.” Nola Dean spied Link’s car parked in one of the spaces at the end of the lot. “I’ll be fine, but would you mind letting me out beside my car?”

  Joe looked puzzled. “May I ask why?”

  “I see Link Holloway’s car and I want to avoid him.”

  “I can make sure you get inside before Holloway has a chance to bother you.”

  “That’s okay. I need to make the funeral arrangements for Dolly and I want to get that over with.”

  “Then I’ll make sure you get out of the garage before he can stop you.” He pulled up beside her car.

  “That would be great.”

  As she opened the door, he said, “Thank you again, Ms. Buckingham. I’m sure Mrs. Overton appreciates everything you’re doing for her. You must be very good friends.”

  “Not really. Sometimes it’s easier to say yes to Dolly than to argue with her.”

  “I’ve known a few people like that,” he said. “I’ll see you again, Ms. Buckingham.”

  Nola Dean started to ask him to call her by her first name, but she wasn’t sure she should. She simply nodded and h
urried to get into her own car. She saw Link opening his car door and hurriedly slipped the key into the switch. She saw Joe back his car behind Link’s, blocking him in. He watched her escape.

  * * * *

  Before Link could get back into his car, she was out of the parking lot. She guessed he’d try to follow her, but she would be far enough away that he’d not know which way she went by the time Joe allowed him to leave. Knowing Link would take Ocean Drive, she turned through a side road to Nixon Street and pushed the gas. She was much more familiar with the streets than he was and she knew it wouldn’t take much to lose him.

  * * * *

  The morning paper carried a picture of Walter Overton at a civic meeting. Underneath was a rehash of the body being found on the beach. The last sentence ended with…the police still have the case under investigation, but no arrests have been made.

  Olive Brunson studied the picture as she sipped her tea and munched on an oatmeal cookie. She’d also studied the picture as she’d eaten her scrambled egg and toast for breakfast, and again when she’d had the pimento cheese sandwich at lunch.

  There was something familiar about the picture, and she had a feeling it would be important to the police if she could recall what it was.

  When she’d seen the man’s body on the beach, she’d have sworn she’d never seen him before; but now, looking at his face, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe he reminded her of someone she’d met or maybe he had one of those faces a person thinks they’ve seen before. Again, maybe she’d seen or known something about him and it had slipped her mind.

  “I wish I knew what it is that keeps nagging at me,” she said to Mansford.

  Mansford ignored her.

  She talked on anyway, “I hope I’m not getting senile. I know I’m at that age, but I haven’t been having any memory problems lately.”

  She looked at her cat over her glasses. “Of course, if I’ve been forgetting things you certainly wouldn’t tell me.”

  Mansford still ignored her.

  She took the last bite of her cookie and drank the last sip of tea. Folding the paper, she stood, took her cup to the sink, rinsed it, and walked toward the living room.

  “If I keep studying on it, maybe it will come back to me yet, Mansford.”

  Mansford continued to ignore her.

  * * * *

  “Why would anybody want to kill Walter?” Megan looked directly into Dolly’s eyes.

  “How should I know?” Dolly pushed back the strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead. “Walter didn’t tell me anything about his business. He thought I was too dumb to understand any of it.”

  “You’re not dumb, Dolly.”

  “I know that, but Walter didn’t.” She looked at her watch. “Of course it could turn out the body could be somebody else.”

  “Then why would Arthur Brown have Walter’s wallet?”

  “I don’t know, Megan. Why are you asking me so many questions?”

  “I’m interested, Dolly. Walter is the first person I actually knew who was murdered.”

  “Me too.”

  Megan stood. “I think I’ll get us some tea. Do you mind?”

  “Help yourself.” Through the front door, Dolly saw a car pull into the driveway. “Here comes Nola Dean. I hope everything is taken care of.”

  “I still think it’s strange you didn’t go to plan your own husband’s funeral.”

  “Nola Dean will do what I ask. Why shouldn’t I let her do it?” She stood to open the door. “You look pale. Are you okay, Nola Dean?”

  “I will be.” She came in and dropped to the sofa. “Could I have something to drink?”

  “Megan, bring her a drink.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Anything cold.”

  “Here you go,” Megan handed her a glass of iced tea. “You look like you’re going to pass out at any minute, please sit down. Is something wrong?”

  Nola Dean shook her head. “It’s because of everything I’ve done this morning.”

  “Was it Walter, Nola Dean?” Dolly asked.

  “Of course it was, Dolly. I know you hoped there was some kind of mistake, but it was definitely Walter.”

  Megan looked at Dolly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know you are.” She took Megan’s hand. “You’ve been wonderful. No wonder Walter depended so much on you.”

  “I only try to do my job as best I can.” Megan turned to Nola Dean and introduced herself. “We spoke on the phone. I worked with Walter and I felt I wanted to help Mrs. Overton as much as I could.”

  “She told me you were here when I called this morning. I’m glad to meet you. Dolly needs all of her friends now.”

  Dolly turned back to Nola Dean. “Did you make the arrangements?”

  “Yes. I tried to do everything like you asked. I hope they’ll please you.”

  “I’m sure they will.” She dropped to the sofa and held up her glass, “Well friends, old and new, did either of you think life would turn out like this?”

  Megan and Nola Dean both stared at her.

  She went on. “I’m a widow just like Nola Dean who has broken up with a great guy and is concentrating on her business. Megan doesn’t seem to want a guy. She’s happy with her career.”

  “Who says I’m happy.” She sat beside Dolly. “I would chuck everything I have for a good man and a couple of kids.”

  Dolly shook her head. “I might believe a lot of things, but that’s not one of them. Walter told me you once made the remark that you would only mess around with married men, Megan. It was your way of not ending up a frumpy housewife.”

  “At this stage of my life, frumpy doesn’t look too bad.”

  “Frumpy, stumpy...you have it all wrong.” Dolly laughed. “The thing to do is go for the bucks. Money can cure many ills. I’m proof of that.”

  “Then, my new friend,” Megan leaned toward her. “Why aren’t you claiming you’re the happy one of the bunch? It looks like money is coming your way now?”

  “So it is.” Dolly giggled. “So it is.” She hoisted her glass again. “Thanks, Walter. At last you did something right.”

  * * * *

  Nola Dean looked at both of these women and suddenly wondered what she was doing here. Neither of them seemed to care that a man was dead. It was true he wasn’t much of a man, but he was a human being. At least they should show some respect. She was about to tell them so when the telephone rang.

  She was closest to it and Dolly nodded for her to answer it

  After she said hello the voice on the other end didn’t give her time to say she wasn’t Mrs. Overton. It said, “I want you to know that yesterday was a warning. If you don’t want to end up like your husband, you’d better return what is mine.”

  The line went dead.

  Chapter 11

  Bett stepped out of the shower. Her headache had eased somewhat, but she decided it was too late to take a nap. It would mess up her sleep tonight and though it was too early for dinner, she decided to make a sandwich, and watch a little television.

  When the migraine struck, Joe had insisted she take the rest of the afternoon off. He said he’d take Nola Dean to identify the body and since the case was nowhere near being solved, she shouldn’t feel guilty about leaving. He promised to call her if anything important turned up.

  She was standing with one hand on the open refrigerator door trying to decide between deli-sliced salami and a carton of chicken salad spread when the telephone rang.

  She was surprised to hear Nola Dean’s voice on the other end. “What can I do for you, Nola Dean?” Bett asked, hoping it wasn’t to meet her for dinner. She wasn’t up to going out.

  “I called the station, but both you and detective Randell were gone. I’m calling you at home because I think I need to tell you something. I answered the phone at Dolly Overton’s house this afternoon and a man threatened to kill Dolly.”

  Bett pushed the refrigerator door closed and moved to the breakfast bar to g
et a paper and pencil.

  “You’re absolutely right about calling. Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “I was closest to it, so when the phone rang, I answered it. A man said if Dolly didn’t give him what was his, she’d end up like her husband.” She took a breath. “I’m sure he thought I was Dolly. He didn’t give me time to explain I wasn’t.”

  “Did you by chance recognize the voice?”

  “No. It was deep and muffled.”

  “Would you know it if you heard it again?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Bett was writing as fast as she could. “What does Mrs. Overton have that the man wanted?”

  “I have no idea. Dolly was so upset about the funeral and everything I didn’t tell her the man threatened her. I told her he’d asked her to return some of his property, and she said she didn’t know what he was talking about.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “He said the accident she had was a warning and the next time would be much worse.”

  “Is Mrs. Overton there where I could talk with her?”

  “No. I came out to get a few groceries and I’m on my cell phone. I didn’t want to upset her by letting her hear what I was telling you.”

  “I’ll talk to Joe about this. Where can I reach you, Nola Dean?”

  She gave Bett her cell phone number and the telephone number at Dolly’s house in case she hadn’t left for home when Bett needed to get in touch. “Is there anything you think I should do?”

  “Be careful. I don’t know what we’re up against here, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. Be sure Mrs. Overton is not left alone.”

  “A college friend of hers is arriving tonight. When she gets here, I’ll go home. She’ll be staying with Dolly for a few days.”

  “That’s good. I’ll be back in touch with you.”

  “Thanks, Bett.”

  “Thank you for calling me, Nola Dean. I’ll get on this right away.”

  Bett hung up the phone and immediately picked it up again. She dialed Joe. Headache or no headache, she knew this was important and Joe would want to know about it immediately.

  * * * *

  Walter Overton’s funeral was held two days later at two o’clock in the afternoon. Dolly was surprised at the turn out. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. She knew she was acting as a grieving widow should. It wasn’t all acting either. She did love Walter and she was going to miss him, but now she had to make a life for herself. She knew a few tears and her head held low went a long way in getting the sympathy hugs. No one would ever guess she wanted to get the whole thing over with and go home and grieve in her own way.