Southern Double Cross Read online

  Liz shrugged. “Not especially, but I wouldn’t mind hearing a little less of them. They suck.”

  Lucille snorted. “Well, your assistant chose them, so…”

  Liz put on a fake smile and got her phone out of her designer clutch purse to make herself a note. “I’ll be sure to follow up with her about her lack of musical taste, on Monday at the office.”

  I wouldn’t have wanted to be Liz’s assistant. There was no way working for her could be fun. Working with her was no picnic, either.

  The next subject would have to be broached with the utmost in care. Lucille’s nephew was the head bartender for the event. I asked, “How about the drinks…and the food? Any rumblings?”

  Lucille shook her head. “My nephew is the best in the business. If anyone’s complaining, you tell them to stuff it. And the food’s delightful.” A snicker escaped her lips. “Especially the little raspberry pies Mags was wearing earlier.”

  Liz’s enhanced lips formed into a little O. “Is that what was all over her dress? She looked like a victim from a slasher movie.” She turned to me. “Speaking of victims, you don’t seem too upset after having been dumped.” She looked past my shoulder. I followed her gaze, unsure of what exactly she was talking about. She was eyeing Tucker. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I go flirt with your handsome ex?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Ex? What are you talking about? Tucker and I aren’t broken up.”

  Her expression turned sympathetic. Super fake sympathetic. “That’s not what his mother told me a little while ago.”

  Lucille said, “I heard it, too.”

  I got a sinking feeling in my gut. It evidently wasn’t enough that Mrs. Heyward disapproved of my relationship with her son—she’d decided to go around telling people we were broken up.

  “It’s definitely not true.”

  Liz and Lucille shared a glance, but neither of them said anything more on the subject.

  Finding myself needing to get away from yet another uncomfortable conversation, I said, “Well, it seems like everything is running smoothly enough, then.” I wasted no time hightailing it away from them.

  I spotted Tucker speaking with a couple of his friends over by the bar. As I approached, he must have noticed something about me was off, because he excused himself and came my way.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to talk about it. I needed to turn off my brain for a while. “Let’s just dance.”

  He took my hand and led me to the dance floor that had been set up over the yard. Taking me in his arms, he swayed us along to the music. Tucker was an amazing dancer, thanks to his mother bringing him up to be a true Southern gentleman.

  After a few songs, as I was finally beginning to relax, my phone rang. I pulled away from Tucker to answer it. I told him, “It’s Pepper.” I muttered quietly into my phone, “If Magnolia Stiles is on the warpath again—”

  Pepper’s voice sounded even more strained than it had when she’d called earlier. “Quinn, I need you. Meet me behind the pool house.”

  “Why there?”

  “Please, Quinn,” she cried. “I need your help. Come by yourself.”

  Getting a feeling this wasn’t work-related, I replied, “Okay, Pepper. I’ll be right over.”

  As I ended the call, I said to Tucker, “I think there’s more drama about to go down.”

  “Want me to come along?”

  I shook my head. “I think it’s personal stuff this time. I’ll be back.”

  Hurrying away from him and darting around the side of the pool house, I found Pepper and her brother, Parker, pacing and muttering to each other in hushed tones.

  “What’s going on, you two?” I asked as I approached them.

  “Shh. Keep your voice down,” Pepper hissed, beckoning me closer.

  When I got close, I noticed that Parker’s face was white and covered with sweat. “Parker, are you sick?”

  Parker wiped a shaking hand down his face and shook his head. He had an angry scrape across one cheek.

  “What happened to your face?” I asked him.

  Pepper’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  “Oh, this?” He touched the wound. “I, um…I ran into a doorframe trying to avoid one of the other waiters. I don’t think I’m cut out for this job.”

  Pepper caught her brother’s eye and grimaced. “I’m so sorry to bring you into this, Quinn, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” I demanded quietly.

  Her voice breaking, Pepper said, “Magnolia Stiles is dead.”

  Chapter 2

  I gasped. “What? Magnolia? How can she be dead? Did it just happen?” I thought about it for a moment and answered my own question. “Of course it just happened. She was trying to fire y’all less than an hour ago. Did she end up having a heart attack or something after Tucker calmed her down?”

  Parker and Pepper both stared at me wordlessly, seeming completely shell-shocked.

  I had a terrible thought. “Oh, no…Were y’all there when she passed? That can be so very traumatic.”

  They glanced at each other wide-eyed and then shook their heads.

  Puzzled by their reactions, I said gently, “Um…I don’t mean to sound crude or unfeeling, but…neither of you knew her before today. You both seem a little broken up over a stranger’s passing.”

  Pepper drew in a shaky breath. “Parker found her.”

  Now I understood. I reached out and pulled him into a hug. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Parker. I know you’re freaked out. That’s totally normal.”

  Pepper added, “Quinn, she’s been murdered.”

  I stepped back from him to gape at her. “What? How do you know it was murder?”

  Parker cleared his throat. “Because her head’s all bloody and there was a bloody glass cat statue next to her. Trust me. She didn’t do it to herself.”

  My stomach rolled. “Where…where was she when you found her?”

  “In her…uh…in her bedroom.”

  My jaw dropped. “Why exactly were you in Magnolia Stiles’s bedroom, Parker?”

  Parker flicked a glance at his sister. “I…was…looking for a restroom.”

  “The restrooms are in the pool house. We went over the rules earlier when y’all got here. No one was supposed to be wandering around in the house, and especially not upstairs. You could have saved yourself a lot of grief by staying within the proper area.”

  Pepper cried, “Quinn, you’re the only one I know who’s been through this before. What do we do?”

  I let out a pent-up breath. The last thing I wanted was to be the person to call for help when someone found a dead body. Not that it should happen very often—or ever. But yes, I did have some expertise. “I take it y’all contacted the police already?”

  They both hesitated.

  I stared at them. “A crime has been committed. Tell me you called the police.”

  Pepper wouldn’t look me in the eye. She mumbled, “We called them…”

  “Pepper,” I said, an edge to my voice.

  Her face fell. “Okay, fine. We called in an anonymous tip.” The wail of a siren could just barely be heard in the distance. “Oh, hey. That’s probably them now.”

  There was still something they were hiding from me. “Why in the world after traipsing into a crime scene would you phone in an anonymous tip instead of being straight with the police?”

  Angry tears in her eyes, Pepper fired back, “Did you forget Mrs. Stiles went nuts on my brother for spilling that tray of galettes on her? Everyone in the kitchen stood there and watched while she emasculated him.”

  “Hey,” Parker huffed. “I couldn’t exactly defend myself and hope to keep my job.”

  “You might have quietly taken
her crap, but you sure were giving her the evil eye. If looks could kill, well…” She shook her head. “I know exactly how ‘being straight with the cops’ would go.” She leveled a glare at her little brother. “Especially for someone with an assault charge on his record from a stupid bar fight last summer.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “This is a mess.”

  “You think?” Pepper griped. Sighing, she softened her tone. “Quinn, I’m sorry. We’re freaking out here. We need you to tell us how to handle this.”

  “First and foremost, I’d ’fess up to calling in the anonymous tip. Do it now, before the police have a chance to figure out it was you and get suspicious that you’re hiding something. Tell them you lost it when you saw the dead body and weren’t thinking straight when you called.”

  She nodded, but I didn’t particularly think she was agreeing with me.

  I remembered the times I’d had to endure police questioning after the jolt of finding another human being dead. To say it wasn’t pleasant would have been a gross understatement. “Other than that, there’s really nothing to handle. The police will do what they do. You’re along for the ride.”

  Pepper looked like she was going to upchuck.

  The sirens had become loud. The police car had to be at the front of the house now.

  I said, “I’m sorry to have to leave you, but I need to get back out there. I’m betting people are already in a panic. Good luck.”

  I made a move to start walking, but Pepper grabbed my arm. “Promise me you won’t tell the cops anything we’ve told you.”

  My stomach twisted itself into a knot. “Come on. Don’t do that to me, Pepper. I might have gone up against the cops and defied their direct orders before, but I’ve never lied to them. And I’m not going to start now. You need to tell the truth.”

  As I walked away, I could feel their gazes on me. I knew they viewed my response as a betrayal, but if I lied to the cops for them, I could go to jail. I’d seen what even a short time in jail did to friends and family members. I wasn’t risking that because of someone else’s bad judgment.

  When I rounded the corner of the pool house, I felt the vibe of the party had shifted. I’d been so engrossed in my conversation with Pepper and Parker that I hadn’t noticed the band had stopped playing. The noise from the band had been replaced by a low rumble from the crowd, with everyone seeming to be talking at once. At least the police siren had been silenced, but I knew there’d be more to come.

  Tucker rushed up to me. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been texting you and looking all over for you.”

  I’d felt my phone vibrate several times in the hidden pocket of my dress while I was talking to Pepper and Parker, but hadn’t answered it. “Long story.”

  “Do you know what’s up with the siren? People are speculating, of course, but no one seems to actually know what’s going on.”

  “Unfortunately, I do.” I wasn’t keeping this from Tucker. Getting up on my tiptoes, I whispered in his ear, “Parker found Magnolia Stiles dead in her bedroom. Pepper called me for help.”

  Tucker’s jaw dropped. He whispered back, “What? Dead? But I just talked to her, and she was fine. Did she…did she have some kind of attack after I left her?”

  “No…according to them, she was attacked.”

  His face went ashen. “In her bedroom?”

  I nodded. “I guess someone hit her in the head. Parker said there was blood on her head and some kind of statue next to her with blood on it.”

  He wiped a hand down his face. “I…I’m stunned. The last thing she said to me was that she was heading to her room to change clothes. If only I’d known, I would have…”

  I took his hands. “Tucker, there’s no way you could have known she’d be in danger in her own bedroom with hundreds of people only steps away.”

  Worry all over his face, he raised his head to scan the grounds. “That person could still be here. It’s not safe. I’m getting you out of here.”

  I wanted nothing more than for him to whisk me away, but that was impossible. “Wait, Tucker…if we leave now, we’ll look suspicious.”

  “So? Your safety is more important to me than anything.”

  I smiled. “I appreciate that. But a killer with any sense is going to be long gone by now. It’s no secret that the police are here, and I’m betting they’re not going to allow anyone to leave until we’ve all been questioned. This is going to be one long, drawn-out giant mess. Plus, I’m going to have to help clean up this party. I’m afraid we’re here for the long haul.”

  He frowned and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again, then.”

  “Deal.”

  He still didn’t seem happy. “Why did Pepper and Parker feel the need to drag you into this?”

  “They wanted some advice on what to expect next. Evidently I’m the resident expert on stumbling over dead bodies. Lucky me.”

  Breaking into a sympathetic smile, he murmured, “Not something you ever thought you’d be the resident expert on, right?”

  “Not in a million years.”

  He gave me a comforting hug. As a server walked past us, he let me go in time to grab two champagne flutes off the tray she was carrying. He handed one to me and raised his glass. “Might as well make the best of it while we wait.”

  The band had resumed their set, and people had visibly settled down. With the drinks flowing as fast as the staff could make and serve them, the tense vibe was starting to ease somewhat.

  Tucker managed to get me to eat a couple of appetizers, which helped keep the champagne from going to my head. I was in a state of semi-calm until he brought up an uncomfortable subject.

  Wincing, he said, “Um, Quinn, I think you should know…It seems that my mother has been going around this evening telling people we’re broken up.”

  Sighing heavily, I replied, “I know. I heard.”

  “I’m so sorry. I told her to knock it off.”

  “It’s okay. Your mom’s dislike for me is the least of my worries at this point.”

  His brow was still wrinkled in consternation. “And…as an unfortunate result, Liz Singleton has been on me like white on rice. She didn’t believe me when I said we were still together.”

  Trying to shake off the fact that someone who could pass for a Victoria’s Secret model was trying her best to snuggle up to my boyfriend, I shrugged. “I told her the same thing, and she didn’t believe me, either. That was after she asked if I minded if she went and flirted with you.”

  He shook his head. “Do you ever get the feeling you’re the only sane person around?”

  I smiled. “I live with people who have daily conversations with a ghost.”

  Tucker didn’t voice his opinion on that one.

  Even though my sister and my grandfather were adamant that my great-uncle Frank’s ghost lived in our home, plus the fact that we lived in one of the supposedly most haunted cities in the world, I wasn’t a believer. Tucker had never believed ghosts existed until he’d allegedly seen and spoken to Uncle Frank several months ago. I didn’t quite know what to make of it, but I didn’t challenge him on it. We agreed to disagree.

  It was then that I saw a half-dozen police officers exit the house and begin fanning out among the guests. My stomach clenched.

  “Here we go again,” I muttered under my breath.

  One of the officers stopped the band and took over the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m Officer VanFleet of the Savannah-Chatham Metro Police Department. There’s been an incident on the grounds, and we are going to need to question each of you before you’re allowed to leave. Please stay calm. There’s no reason to panic. Everyone please take a seat and wait for an officer to come and dismiss your table. This will take time, but if everyone is cooperative, we’ll get you on your way as soon as possible.”
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  An audible wave of panic swept through the crowd. Moans and gasps and overdramatic cries filled the air. This unknown “incident” and the mere thought of being questioned like common criminals seemed to be more than these genteel ladies and gentlemen could handle. The women fluttered shaking hands to their hearts and took to guzzling the closest drinks they could find. The men mopped their foreheads with crisp white handkerchiefs and began removing their suit jackets. One woman actually fainted, which caused even more of a stir in order to get her some medical attention. If they were this upset now, not even knowing what had transpired, I hated to think of the pandemonium that would ensue once they all found out their hostess and friend had been murdered right under their noses.

  A couple of police officers dismissed two of the tables and escorted the guests across the terrace and into the house. The remaining police officers stationed themselves near any possible exit points and seemed to be standing guard, making sure no one left before they could be questioned. We were all trapped like rats.

  I tried my best to block out the conversations going on around us. But when two other couples joined us at our table, it became impossible.

  One of the ladies said, “I can’t imagine what happened. An ‘incident’? What could that possibly mean?”

  Her husband let out a condescending snort. “A hundo says one of the help stole something.”

  She frowned. “Then why bother us with it?”

  The other man said, “Oh, you know Mags. If even a paper clip went missing from her house, she’d know it. And she’d call in the cavalry to search everyone here, no matter who they are.”

  Officer VanFleet had taken over the mic again. “Quinn Bellandini, please report to the terrace. Quinn Bellandini.”

  An icy shiver ripped through my body. They were asking for me by name? That couldn’t be good.

  Tucker put his arm around me. He knew what I was thinking. He murmured in my ear, “Maybe they’re rounding up the event committee members to talk logistics.”

  My gut said otherwise. “Maybe,” I replied shakily. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon.”