Murder in Buckhead, page 22
“Take my advice, but don’t do what I do. But, yeah. Hooters sounds perfect. Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed. Oh, Turner?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m thinking if you’re going to drive me to Hartsfield later on, I’d like to go ahead and turn in my rental at Enterprise.”
“The one close to the precinct?”
“Yes.”
“Not a problem. I’ll follow you there and then we can head on to Hooters.”
After dropping the truck off and getting my receipt, Turner drove us to Hooters. He’d punched the address, 209 Peachtree Street NE, into his iPhone and followed the directions of the cheery voice coming from the speaker. As we settled into a booth, a voluptuous brunette with nice long legs approached. Her white top showed off her abundant cleavage and her orange tight-fitted pants outlined her camel toe.
“Hi there! My name’s Joni and I’ll be your waitress for this afternoon. Can I start you off with some drinks?”
“I’ll have a Sam Adams and, uh, Turner? Miller Light?”
“Yup. Sounds good.”
“With your Sam Adams, do you want a can or would you prefer a pitcher?”
“Pitcher.”
“Great. One pitcher of Sam Adams. One Miller Light. I’ll be right back with those drinks and take your food orders.”
She quickly returned, popped the top on Turner’s beer and poured a large mug full of Sam Adams for me.
“Would you like to start off with some appetizers?”
Turner looked up and stared at her cleavage and his eyes didn’t go any farther. “Yeah, I’d like a pound of steamed shrimp to start. That okay with you, Ludefance?”
“Sure.”
“And for your main courses?”
“I’ll have the Buffalo chicken sandwich with onions and mushrooms and a double side of French fries. Turner?”
“I’ll take the Home Run Burger with a double side of fries.”
“How would you like your burger cooked?”
“Rare.”
“Brioche bun? Lettuce, tomato?”
“All of that and add mushrooms and onions.”
“I’ll get this order right in.”
“Detective? I admire you. You do live at large.”
“Yeah, I try to. Besides, what does it really matter? I say enjoy it while you can.”
We took our time; enjoyed our meals and our beers. Ended up going over the Casey Ray Olmsted case piece by piece, congratulating each other for a job well done. We finished up by ordering key lime pie and coffee. Coffee for Turner because he was driving me to the airport. Coffee for me so I could walk a straight line to board the plane. When I couldn’t hold it any longer, I headed off the bathroom and, on my return, found our voluptuous brunette and paid the bill.
Turner stood up on wobbly legs. “You ready to head to the airport?”
At that moment, I was having second thoughts. “Really, I can call Uber.”
“No way. I insist, you stubborn Cajun. You paid the bill. It’s the least I can do.”
At Hartsfield, Turner pulled into a curbside spot at the departures level. Grabbing my roll aboard and backpack I shook Turner’s hand, thanked him again.
“Turner, you be sure and call or text me anything to do with Senator Olmsted being arrested.”
“Absolutely, and let me know how things are back in Florida.”
At the Delta counter, I took care of checking my roll aboard and advising I was carrying a firearm. After all the necessary paperwork was filled out and filed, I proceeded through security and to my gate. Not wanting to wait on an Uber when I arrived in Florida, I grabbed a waiting taxi.
There was very little traffic until we were within a half mile of the cottage. Then the whole world began to change. An ambulance with its screaming sirens passed us heading west back toward Gulf Bend. In front of us were two police cars and a fire truck turning onto the street where the cottage was. My heart literally stopped. All I could see were more police cars and a firetruck out front. What the hell? We were stopped by a sheriff’s deputy and told we couldn’t go any farther. Paying the taxi driver, I grabbed my roll aboard and backpack and started walking toward what was left of my home.
CHAPTER 42
I stopped in my tracks, unable to believe my eyes. The cottage was gone. Burnt to the ground. The charred remains of my RX-7 were still smoldering in the area where the garage had been. The only thing that remained untouched was Cindy’s baby-blue Mercedes sitting in the driveway. Then I saw Hiker walking toward me with the fire chief who was talking on his cellphone.
“Jack? You remember Chief Jordan?”
The chief acknowledged me and handed me his phone. “Mr. Ludefance, there’s a Mrs. Patty McGruder wanting to speak with you. But before you do, I need to advise you that Miss Hastings has been transported to Baptist Hospital in Gulf Bend.”
“How is she?”
“Pretty bad from the initial assessment of the paramedics. Smoke inhalation and a possible concussion. In all honesty, it’s a miracle she survived. We’ll talk more after you speak with Mrs. McGruder.” With that he handed me the phone.
“Hello? This is Jack.”
“Jack? It’s Patty. I’m so glad to know you’re not hurt.”
“I just arrived on scene, Patty. I’ve been in Atlanta for a month working on a case.”
“Then who’s the girl that was taken to the hospital?”
“Her name is Cindy Hastings.”
“Why was she in my cottage?”
“Patty…I’ve been seeing her since my case last fall in Tallahassee. I texted her that I was finished in Atlanta and wanted her to meet me here when I got home.”
“She has a key?”
“Yes, she does.”
“How is she now?”
“I don’t really know, Patty. She was taken to Baptist Hospital over in Gulf Bend.”
“Well, I just hope she’s not one of those types who will take any excuse to file a lawsuit. You know what I mean. Like the ones that sue for slipping and falling down on a banana peel?”
“Patty, don’t worry. She isn’t one of those types. Besides, I’m responsible for her. And I have to add, this whole conversation doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“Really…huh. Well, I’m planning to be there sometime tomorrow afternoon. We’ll talk more when I arrive. We have a lot to discuss.”
“Okay…I’ll pick you up at the airport if you tell me what time your flight gets in.”
“Thanks, but no thanks, Jack. I’d rather have my own car. Besides, didn’t your car just burn up?”
I looked at what was left of my favorite car. “Yes, it did actually. I’d momentarily forgotten. Where are you planning on staying?”
“My aunt, the one who willed me the cottage, had many friends in the area. One of her closest and dearest friends, Mrs. Melvin, owns one of the condos over on the beach. Last year she moved to Kansas City to be with her daughter who, sadly, had to place her in a nursing home a few months ago. I’m going to call her and ask if I can stay in her condo. Anyway, I’ll let you know if that works out. If not, I’ll reserve a room at the Marriott Hotel just down the street.”
“Then I’ll see you sometime tomorrow, Patty.”
I handed the cellphone back to the Chief Jordan. “How did it start?”
“The neighbor across the way noticed two men on a Harley speeding away right after the fire started. I immediately informed Sheriff Lawson and he issued an APB. My men found an empty can of gas thrown over the fence into the vacant lot over there. We’re assuming at this point that the gas was used as an accelerant. This cottage, with its decade’s old wood siding, was an accident waiting to happen. Even though the first truck arrived within minutes, the cottage went up like a tinder box.”
Hiker had returned to where the chief and I stood talking. “Just got an update, Chief. Deputy Miller stopped two men speeding on a Harley a couple of miles up on 67. When he called in the information, he was advised of the APB. I ordered back up and within five minutes three other deputies arrived on scene and the arrests were made without incident. They’ve been identified as Robert McDaniel aka Dirty Bob and Jameson Utah aka Smokey Jim. Both are members of the Bandit motorcycle gang, but currently not active. Both men work for Senator Olmsted’s reading glass manufacturing company in Augusta, Georgia.”
“Excellent, Sheriff Lawson. Let me get back to my men so we can finish up here.”
As the chief was walking away, Hiker said, “I’m sorry about all this Jack; even your car’s a total loss.”
“Never mind. I can’t think about that right now. How’s Cindy?”
“She’s at Baptist. She’s in good hands.”
“Can you give me a lift to the hospital? I need to see her.”
“I’ve got to finish some work with Chief Jordan, but I can have one of the deputies take you up there. Come back here afterwards, though. I’m going to call Linda and have her prepare the guest room for your stay.”
“Thanks, Lawson.”
On the way up to Gulf Bend I called Turner, gave him a brief overview of what had happened to the cottage and then told him that Dirty Bob and Smokey Jim had been arrested leaving the scene of the fire. He attempted to remain stoic, but his giddiness was apparent.
By the time we arrived at Baptist, it was after 11 pm. I argued with the receptionist, but in the end, I wasn’t permitted to see Cindy and was told in no uncertain terms not to come back until tomorrow morning during normal visiting hours. Returning to the cottage, or rather what used to be the cottage, Lawson was in the midst of wrapping things up.
“Just about ready to head home, Jack. Your roll aboard and backpack are in the trunk of my patrol car.”
“Lawson, can we take my safe to your house? Besides my roll aboard and backpack, it’s the only thing I have left.”
“I had Tucker and another deputy take it to headquarters. It’s in the evidence room where it will stay safe and sound until you have a new place.”
CHAPTER 43
Tuesday, April 23
In the morning, I found Linda and Lawson sitting at the kitchen table. I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined them. For some reason, Linda looked different. There was a glow about her I’d never noticed before.
“Linda? You look, uhmm, different? Is there something you want to tell me?”
Linda looked over at Lawson and he nodded.
“Jack, we’re expecting.”
“But I saw you the beginning of April?”
“We just found out. Besides Forest, you’re the first to know anything about it.”
“Well, that’s wonderful news. Congratulations! Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?’
“We haven’t gone to the doctor yet. My appointment is on Friday. But, even still, it’s too early to do the test to determine sex.”
“And is Forest excited?”
“Oh, you have no idea how excited! He’s happy thinking about being a big brother. Jack, I’ve made some bacon and eggs. Can I fix you a plate?”
“I’ll get it. You stay put and relax.” I heaped a plate full of eggs, bacon, and Linda’s homemade blueberry muffins.
After breakfast, I grabbed my backpack and persuaded Lawson to drive me over to the Dodge dealership in Pensacola and drop me off. I already knew what I wanted to buy. I only hoped they had one on the lot that I could drive off today. After checking out several, I purchased a white Dodge Ram 4-wheel-drive pickup truck, fully loaded. While the salesman prepared the paperwork, I logged on to my laptop and was ready to transfer the purchase price of $46,781. After completing the money transfer, I emailed my insurance with the details of my new pickup truck. I drove out of the dealership a very happy man. Where to go from here? No issues there. I headed back over Pensacola Bay Bridge to Baptist Hospital in Gulf Bend. This time I was permitted to see Cindy.
Walking into her room, I was taken aback at how she looked. Her face was ashen; completely devoid of any color, her head was heavily bandaged, and she was hooked up to oxygen. She stared at me, and I stood there not knowing what to say or do.
I heard the door open behind me and a cheery voice say, “Good morning, Cindy. How is my patient today? And I see you already have a visitor?”
I turned to face a short, bald, middle-aged doctor who smiled up at me and extended his hand.
“Dr. Shakir. And you are…?”
“Jack Ludefance. I’m a friend of Cindy’s. Can you tell me how she is?”
“Yes, yes. Of course, I can. She has inhaled quite a bit of smoke which is why we have her on oxygen. She also has a mild concussion and some burns on her left leg which will heal nicely with proper care. She’s insisting on being released this afternoon and I will be evaluating that decision after I’ve checked her over. But since you are here, I will leave you two and return in say, a half-hour?”
“Thanks, Dr. Shakir.”
As he left the room and closed the door, I walked over to Cindy’s bed, pulled up a chair and tried to take her hand, but she withdrew from me and continued to stare.
“Cindy? I’m so sorry you had to go through this. Is there anything I can do for you?”
She didn’t respond at first. Finally, she said, “I’ve decided that I want to end this relationship. This isn’t going to work for me. I was hoping that we had something going. I thought maybe I could persuade you to move to Tallahassee to be with me and we could have a real life together. But now I know that isn’t possible. You’re always in danger. You thrive on danger. And being with you puts me in danger. I’ve lost both of my parents to violence. I couldn’t stand being with you and then losing you. Do you understand any of what I’m saying?”
I wanted to ask her what happened to ‘fearless Cindy.’ But she’d made her argument and I had no rebuttal to convince her otherwise. Perhaps, in a way, I was relieved that she was the one ending the relationship.
“Cindy, I do understand. For myself, I can’t think about doing any other kind of job. This work is my life. It’s what I do best. If I’m not on a case, I get bored and restless. I’ve always lived dangerously and this scar on my face is the proof of that. I’ve lived this way since my youth and now in my adult life, I thrive on it. I’ve tried changing, but I can’t. If you want to remain just friends that is totally fine with me.”
“No, Jack. I want to cut the umbilical cord. You see, my psychiatrist has told me numerous times I’m substituting you as both a father and a lover. That’s not really a healthy relationship. I want to end our relationship completely. You have no idea how difficult that is for me, but for once I want to do the right thing.”
I stood up and said, “Then all I can say is take care, Cindy. You are one unusual girl, a one of a kind, and I mean that in a good way. One last question. Do you want me to drive your car over here?”
“No! That’s alright. I’ll take Uber when I’m discharged. I’ll be fine.”
“Then all I can say is I wish you a good life, Cindy.”
CHAPTER 44
After leaving Cindy, I drove back to the Starbucks just before the Pensacola Bay Bridge, ordered my Americano, and checked emails. I’d just taken a big gulp of my coffee when I heard the familiar ping of an incoming text. Patty had messaged me that her flight had landed and she was on her way to the condo. I was to meet her at the manager’s office. I acknowledged the message and she sent another message with the address. I finished my coffee before heading back on 88 then over the Santa Rosaria Bridge to Gulf Drive. The address she’d texted me was Emerald Shores Condominiums, a familiar landmark on our beach landscape.
Checking with the condo manager, I was advised that Mrs. McGruder had not yet arrived, so I took a seat in the lobby. Fifteen minutes later, I saw Patty struggling to open the lobby door with her roll board in one hand and several grocery bags in the other. After helping her inside, she gave me a proper hello and a big hug. Memories of last summer in Malibu and the morning she changed my tie, were vivid in my mind. At the time, I was investigating the murder of her husband’s business partner, but I’d felt an attraction then, and I felt it now.
We proceeded to the manager’s office where she showed her ID and received the keys to the condo. Taking the elevator to the 18th floor, Patty opened the door to 1805. While she started putting away the groceries, I did a quick tour of the open living/dining, two-bedroom, and two-bath condo. Opening the slider to the balcony, I stepped out and stood at the railing. Patty soon joined me, leaning against the railing taking it all in.
Wow! Wow! Wow! What a view! Looking to the right I could see all the way down to the high-rises on Pensacola Beach and nothing in between but white sandy beach and sand dunes filled with sea oats. Looking to the left was the Santa Rosaria Pier, filled with fishermen on this beautiful afternoon. Looking straight out were the crystal-clear turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico, and above, the cloudless azure sky. My first thought? This is it! I’ve got to live here!
“Patty?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s the status of this condo?”
“What do you mean by status?”
“I mean is it available to rent or buy?”
“Either—”
“That’s it. I want to buy this place.”
“You can make decisions like that on the spur of the moment?”
“What can I say? Sometimes, I guess. I’ve been advised numerous times to live in the moment. And I’m trying to learn how to do just that.”
“Well, while you’re living in the moment, I’m going to unpack. Do you mind finishing with the groceries?”
“Sure. No problem.” There wasn’t much left to put away except a six-pack of Sam Adams and several bottles of Pino Grigio.
“Patty?”
“Hmmh?”
“How did you know I like Sam Adams?”
Patty walked out of her bedroom, smiling. “I noticed that’s what you ordered when we had our celebration dinner at Gladstone’s last summer. You ordered Sam Adams, Candelaria, and I ordered white wine, and Vargas ordered Scotch on the Rocks. Women remember those kinds of things.”
