Faith Page 14

  “Cindy, I talked to the man for fifteen minutes. He seemed like a nice guy, but who knows. It bothers me he’d either lie to you or to me about where he was in Georgia, especially when it didn’t matter one way or the other to me.”

  “And, he said he was glad the building burned.”

  I smiled. “That too.”

  “I suppose I’d better have another talk with the confused, former landlord.”

  “Sounds like the chiefly thing to do.”

  The server returned with refills on our drinks. Cindy took a sip of the refreshed coffee, then said, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

  “How are you and Larry adjusting to houseguests?”

  “Larry hasn’t been home enough to know they’re there. When he gets home, he’s so exhausted he flops in bed not acknowledging any of us. Sort of pleasant. Luke is still spending several hours a day at the store. He told me last night, Larry made him, how did he put it, umm, vice president of Christmas sales. It thrilled the heck out of the kid. I figure it was Larry’s way of not giving Luke more money.”

  “How about Rose?”

  “Fine most of the time.”

  “Most of the time?”

  “Her a-hole ex keeps calling. It screws up her mood every time.”

  “What’s he want?”

  “What do you think? Wants her to come crawling back to Morristown.”

  “She thinking about it?”

  “The first Thursday after hell freezes over.”

  “Good.”

  Cindy stuffed a bite of egg in her mouth, then mumbled, “Yep.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  An hour after breakfast with Cindy the phone rang. Her name appeared on the screen.

  “Didn’t get enough of me at breakfast?” I said.

  “I’m beginning to see why you detest caller ID. How many favors have you asked me for since we’ve met?”

  “The exact number?”

  “Never mind. It’s a zillion, give or take.”

  “Sounds right,” I said, wondering where the conversation was headed.

  “How many have I asked you for?”

  “Way fewer than a zillion.”

  “How about fewer than three?”

  “Close.”

  “I figure you owe me a few, quite a few.”

  “Cindy, you have a favor to ask?”

  “Wow, you’re smarter than the average bonehead I deal with.”

  “Flattery is not one of your strengths,” I said, then chuckled. “What do you need?”

  “Since Rose has been at the house, I’ve spent less time with her than I’ve spent with the town drunk. Luke has been at the hardware store every day, but I know how tired of Larry someone can become. Plus, how many AA batteries can a nine-year-old put in bags before his battery runs down?”

  “Your point?”

  “Rose told me Luke has been wanting to eat at Planet Follywood, so today she’s taking him there for lunch. Think you could miraculously happen in about the time they’re arriving? I think conversation with someone other than the television would be good for Rose. Luke seems to like you. Heck if I know why.”

  “There you go with flattery again. When are they going?”

  “I’m guessing noon, but Rose didn’t say.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Great. I would say I owe you one, but since you’re a zillion favors behind, I’ll leave it at thanks.”

  Planet Follywood was at the intersection of East Erie Avenue and Center Street and was one of Folly’s most-established restaurants. It’s also known for a large mural painted on the side of the building featuring larger-than-life paintings of Hollywood icons including John Wayne, Marilyn Monroe, Sammy Davis Jr, Elvis, plus a few others.

  I arrived ten minutes before noon and stood across the street where I could see diners entering the restaurant. I wasn’t there long; my intended targets arrived before noon. Luke pulled his mom past the entry where he pointed at the mural. Rose smiled then escorted her son to the door. I gave them a couple of minutes to settle before I “miraculously” entered.

  The interior looked like what I imagine beach restaurants and bars looked like in days gone by. Luke and the food were probably the newest things in there. It was apparent why Planet Follywood was popular with residents and vacationers who wanted to relive their past. Neon beer signs were attached to most walls; another mural was painted on the concrete block wall to the left; wood paneling covered another wall and the ceiling. Overall, a warm, welcoming feel permeated the room. Luke and his mom were seated at a bar-height table in front of the mural and across from a Christmas tree. Luke wore a red sweatshirt that looked like it’d just come out of the package. It probably had. Rose had on a starched, white blouse and a tan lightweight jacket.

  Luke spotted me standing in the entry. He waved then said something to his mom. She turned and waved me over.

  “Hi, Chris, having lunch?”

  I told her I was, then Luke said, “Want to sit with us?”

  “I don’t want to intrude,” although, of course, I did.

  “Nonsense,” Rose said, “have a seat.”

  Luke watched me sit. “Been in here before?”

  “Many times,” I said. “How about you?”

  “Our first,” Rose answered for her son. “Luke’s been talking about it since he saw the mural on the wall outside.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Mom said all those people were in movies, like old movies.”

  “It was painted by a man from Charleston named James Christopher Hill.”

  “Think it was okay for him to paint all over that wall? I’d get in trouble if I did something like that.”

  “I’m sure he had permission.”

  A server arrived and took our drink orders.

  The server left. Luke pointed at the Christmas tree. “Cool tree.”

  Guess we’d talked enough about the mural.

  I said, “It is neat.”

  “Mom and me put up a tree in Aunt Cindy and Uncle Larry’s living room.”

  Rose touched Luke’s arm. “Mom and I.”

  Luke rolled his eyes, and said, “Mr. Landrum, never marry an English professor.”

  I smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The server returned with our drinks, saving Luke from more English lessons. She asked if we were ready to order. Rose said we needed a few more minutes. Luke took over the conversation from that point, telling me about working at the hardware store, about how cool his bedroom was, how he could see the Folly River and the marsh out his window, and several other things that were important to him but which I forgot as soon as he finished mentioning them. Rose sat back and watched her son share his day to day, almost moment to moment experiences.

  The server tried again to see if we were ready to order. Rose asked Luke if he was. He turned to the server and asked if they had hot dogs. They did, so he ordered one, Rose stuck with a cheeseburger, and I ordered a chicken finger basket. Rose excused herself and headed to the restroom.

  Luke watched her go, leaned close to me, then said, “Mr. Landrum, think you could do something for me?”

  “Suppose it depends on what?”

  “I want to get Mom something nice for Christmas. I heard you could find teeth from old, dead sharks on the beach. Can you believe that?”

  I nodded.

  Luke looked toward the restrooms, turned to me, and said, “Someone who came in the store said people make jewelry from the teeth. Do they sell them somewhere here?”

  “In fact, they do. Barb’s Books has several pieces of shark tooth jewelry made by Michelle, a local artist.”

  “Could you buy a necklace with a shark tooth on it for me to give Mom? If it’s not too expensive. I have money Uncle Larry paid me for working, so I can pay you back.”

  “I’ll be glad to.”

  He again glanced toward the restroom. “I’d also like to get one for Aunt Cindy. She’s been nice to us.”

  “I’ll do that, Luke.�
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  “Make Aunt Cindy’s a little cheaper than the one for Mom. I want Mom to know she’s number one.”

  I smiled and said I would. “What about Uncle Larry?”

  “All he wants for Christmas is to sleep for two days without being interrupted or hearing his cash register ding. I’m going to give him a quiet house. No TV, no playing loud.”

  “That’s a great gift.”

  “What are you two men plotting out here?” Rose said as she returned to the table.

  “Nothing, Mom. Guy talk.”

  “Luke, why don’t you go wash your hands before our food arrives?”

  He sighed, then slid off the chair.

  “Rose, you have a great kid.”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Have you told Cindy about Kenneth’s visit?”

  “No.”

  “It’s none of my business, but I think you should. I know you disagree, but he’d be a prime suspect in starting the fire. Cindy would have a good chance of learning if he was here the day of the fire. Don’t you want to know?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want her going ballistic.”

  “Rose, I’ve known your sister a long time. She’s at her best when faced with difficult situations. I’d trust her with my life. You can trust her with the truth.”

  Luke returned wiping his hands together. He smiled, then said, “What are you two grownups plotting out here?”

  Touché.

  Our conspiring ended when the food arrived. We spent the next hour enjoying the food, the eclectic restaurant, and each other. Cindy was right. Rose and Luke left the restaurant in better spirits and more relaxed than when they arrived. So did I.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I headed to Barb’s Books after leaving Rose and Luke full of food and smiles. A woman I didn’t recognize was perusing the romance section while Barb was behind the counter thumbing through a book. She was wearing one of her signature red blouses and black slacks. She saw me at the door, closed the book, and smiled.

  “What brings you in? I know it’s not to buy a book.”

  “Right again,” I said, then moved to a small table near the check-out counter that was covered with a white velour cloth. “I’m not looking for a book but a couple of these.” On the velour, there were several silver necklaces, a couple of bracelets, plus five sets of earrings, all featuring black, shark teeth.

  “Christopher, if I may be so bold, I suggest if you’re looking to buy jewelry for a woman, you may not want to shop in a store owned by the lady you’re dating.”

  I laughed. “I’ll file that wise advice. Actually, I’m Christmas shopping for a gentleman I know.” I then shared my assignment.

  “In that case,” Barb said, “I think these earrings would be perfect for our Chief.” Barb held one up to her ear. It had a half-inch long shark tooth dangling from the short chain. “First, they’re pretty. Second, they could visually communicate to local miscreants not to mess with the Chief.”

  “Perfect. How about Rose?”

  She modeled three necklaces before we agreed on one that not only had a shark tooth but a small, silver heart. She asked if I wanted her to gift-wrap the gifts.

  “Didn’t think you gift-wrapped.”

  She looked at the customer browsing in the romance section, then said, “I don’t unless it’s for someone special, someone like Luke.”

  “Or for me?”

  “Nope. I’ll also give your young friend the family discount.”

  I thanked her for the discount, to which she said she wasn’t doing it for me, but for Luke. I told her about having lunch at Cindy’s suggestion with Rose and Luke. She said she was glad Rose was getting out, hoping it’d keep her from thinking about the fire or losing most everything. I told her how I’d suggested, again, that she tell her sister about her ex-husband’s visit to Folly the day before the fire.

  “Speaking of fire victims,” Barb said as she reached under the counter to pull out a roll of red and gold wrapping paper, “Noelle was in an hour ago. She’s off work this week. Said without having an apartment to hang out in, she didn’t know what to do with her time. She was heading to the library to work on her book.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s young, adapts fairly well to adversity. Better than I would.”

  I shared what Noelle told me about thinking someone was watching her.

  “She told me.”

  “Think she’s right?”

  Barb shrugged. “No way to know.”

  The browser carried a stack of books to the counter. Barb rang them up, then thanked the shopper, who left the store heavier than when she arrived.

  Barb finished wrapping the gifts, waved off my attempt to pay, then said, “Let me bounce an idea off you. Noelle seems like a nice woman. She’s funny, has a responsible job in Charleston, shows a huge amount of initiative with the book she’s writing.”

  “I agree.”

  “I hate seeing her living out of her truck. I’ve got a spare bedroom going to waste. What do you think about me offering to let her stay in my condo until she finds the kind of apartment she’s looking for?” Barb laughed. “The perfect dump she calls her dream apartment.”

  “Are you comfortable with it?”

  “I’m leaning that way.”

  “I think it’s a great idea, as long as you’re comfortable.”

  That night began with me alternating between wondering if Rose would finally tell her sister about her ex-husband’s visit, and my thoughts about Barb asking Noelle to move in with her.

  My mind shifted to wondering who’d started the fire. Regardless of what Rose thought, I could see it being her ex. He could be eliminated if he was in Tennessee on the day of the fire. Ty could also have made Aimee’s fiancée angry enough to start the fire. Most likely, he would’ve or could’ve known Ty was at work, so the fire was set to make a point rather than to harm Ty. That brought me to Horace, Janice’s ex-husband. She was convinced he’s the culprit, but it seems like a stretch. He’d moved on, although Janice’s attorney was still after him for money. Was that reason enough to burn her building?

  Neil’s former boss had more than enough reason to want revenge for being turned in to the IRS. It’d been some time since Neil did that, so would he still be angry enough to set the fire? Then what about the customer Neil had unceremoniously thrown out of the bar? Granted, the man threatened Neil, but, as Cal said, that wasn’t uncommon, and seldom led to anything. Could this be the exception?

  Noelle was convinced someone was following her, or at least, keeping an eye on her, plus someone left her the note. Without knowing why there was no way to determine if she bothered someone enough to torch the building.

  The most logical arsonist was Russell O’Leary. He was behind in his mortgage, appeared to have little means to catch up. His alibi for the time of the fire was suspect at best. Finally, he’d told me he didn’t want the building in the first place.

  From my limited time with Russell, he appeared to be a nice man, yet was in over his head maintaining the building. The fire was set when the building most likely would’ve been vacant. That seemed like something Russell would’ve taken into consideration.

  Cindy knew everything I did about Russell, so I was confident she was following up. So, with all of that cleared up, I should be able to get a good night’s sleep.

  So, why didn’t I?

  Chapter Thirty

  Despite little sleep, I was awake at six o’clock. I closed my eyes attempting to catch a few more minutes sleep. I failed. The next thing I knew, it was eight-thirty, far more than a few minutes later. While well-rested, I was hungry. The unseasonably warm weather from a few days ago had returned, so I walked next door. Ty was at the register adjusting a string of Christmas lights attached around the check-out stand.

  “Hey, Mr. Landrum, want a treat?”

  “No thanks, Ty. I wanted to stop by to see how you were doing.”

  “I’m doing better than
these lights, Mr. Landrum.”

  “You’re brighter than they are,” I said. He could take it any way he wanted. “How’s Lost?”

  “Great. That little critter loves the warmer weather. She isn’t a fan of staying in the car but handles it good when the temperature ain’t too cold.”

  I nodded, thinking that’d apply to all of us.

  Ty continued, “Anything I can help you with?”

  “No. Grabbing coffee and something for breakfast.”

  “You know where it is. Merry Christmas.”

  “You going to Cal’s Christmas party?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll be working Bert’s free community breakfast. It’s over at ten, so I don’t know if I’ll be here longer than that. Besides, ain’t most of the people at Cal’s party old, umm, older than me?”

  “All ages will be there,” I said, although on average age he was right. “I’d love to see you.”

  “I’ll ponder it,” he said, then started waiting on a man who’d arrived at the counter.

  I grabbed a cinnamon Danish, drew a cup of coffee, then returned to the register.

  Ty took my money and said, “Done pondered it, Mr. Landrum. If I get out of here early enough, I’ll be there.”

  “Fantastic.”

  I started home, smiled when I saw Ty’s Miata in the back of the small parking lot, then jumped out of the way when an older-model white Chevrolet Malibu with a dent in the driver’s door pulled in, nearly hitting me.

  Janice Raque stepped out, gave me a dirty look like I had some nerve getting in the way of her car, hesitated, then smiled.

  “Sorry, Chris. Didn’t recognize you.”

  I wondered if that meant she wouldn’t be sorry if she’d run down anyone else.

  “Hi, Janice.”

  “Glad I ran into you.” She smiled. “Didn’t mean literally. Got something to tell you. Got a minute?”

  I told her I did.

  Her arms were wrapped around her torso like she was cold. “Let’s get in the car? It’s warmer.”

  I wasn’t cold but agreed. Since she had something to say, I remained quiet and took a sip of coffee.