Frankly My Dear, I'm Dead Page 19

  The little weasel, I thought. It was high time I stopped feeling even a little bit sorry for those two. Sure, Kelley had put them in a bad spot. That didn’t justify anything that they had done.

  I’d been holding my breath for about as long as I could. I tried to take a shallow, silent breath, but it still sounded loud to me. I heard movement in the shrubs nearby, then Lindsey muttered a curse.

  She was almost right on top of me. I could have reached out and touched her.

  Instead I stayed frozen, my back pressed against the tree trunk. I’m convinced she would have gone on past without noticing me, too, if she hadn’t stumbled on a root just then and put out a hand to brace herself. Instead of leaning against the tree, her hand went right into my shoulder.

  “Perry!” she cried in a low, urgent voice. “She’s here!”

  She grabbed at me, trying to tie me up and pin me against the magnolia. I planted my hands on her chest and shoved hard, sending her stumbling away from me. She tripped over a low stone wall covered with honeysuckle and toppled backward.

  I broke into a run. I knew that Perry was somewhere close by and just wanted to get away from him. I didn’t know if I was going toward the house or deeper into the garden. Fear and the shadows that still cloaked everything had disoriented me.

  Noises of pursuit came from behind me and made me run even harder. Suddenly, something loomed up in front of me, and I just managed to stop before I ran full tilt into a stone wall that would have knocked me silly. I had reached a small building of some sort, and even without seeing it before, I was convinced this was the tool shed where Elliott Riley had hidden his loot.

  It was after leaving the shed and starting back to the house that Riley had come across Steven Kelley and witnessed either Perry or Lindsey shoving that knife into Kelley’s chest. Riley was no murderer, but he was a career criminal who certainly wasn’t above attempting a little blackmail. How much he thought he could collect from a couple of young actors like Perry and Lindsey was a good question. Unless they came from wealthy families—which was a possibility, I guess—they wouldn’t have much money.

  Riley had tried to cash in anyway and gotten killed for his trouble. I wasn’t going to mourn him. Not too much, anyway.

  Right now I was more worried about saving my own life. I felt around to the front of the tool shed. There might be something inside that I could use as a weapon to fight off the two people who wanted to kill me, I thought. I found the door. It was closed and latched, but not locked. As quietly as possible, I unfastened the latch and swung the door open.

  A few strands of pinkish light had begun to filter down through the leafy branches above me, signifying the approach of dawn. But it was still pitch-black inside the shed. I had to feel my way around. After a minute my fingers brushed against what felt like the wooden handle of a shovel or a hoe or something like that. I clutched it and lifted it carefully, then ran the fingers of one hand along the handle. It was a shovel, all right. That would go a long way toward evening the odds for me against Perry and Lindsey, I thought. Even if they had another knife like the one they had used to kill Steven Kelley, the shovel was a lot longer. I thought I could keep them at bay with it while I yelled for help.

  That was the plan as I stepped out of the tool shed. Unfortunately, Perry was waiting right outside the door.

  I didn’t know he was there until he grabbed the shovel with one hand, ripping it out of my grasp, and swung the other against my head in a punch that knocked me to the ground. Stars seemed to burst in front of my eyes. I knew I had to get up and that there was no time to waste. But my muscles didn’t want to work and all I could do was lie there.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Dickinson,” he said. “I really am. But you shouldn’t have tried to play detective.”

  He didn’t understand. I hadn’t been trying to play detective. Things had just sort of worked out that way.

  But now it was too late to explain. Perry shifted his grip on the shovel handle and lifted it so that the head was poised above him, ready to come slashing down and crush my skull. It was light enough now in the garden for me to see him. I would be able to see my own death descending on me.

  Then flame spurted in the shadows near the tool shed and the loudest thunderclap I’d ever heard slammed through the early morning air and Perry went flying backward to land on the flagstone path in a moaning heap. Lieutenant Farraday rushed out from under the magnolia trees with his gun in one hand. He kicked the shovel well out of Perry’s reach, then holstered the service revolver, rolled Perry over, dug a knee into the small of his back, and slipped the restraints on his wrists.

  While Farraday was doing that, Will Burke appeared beside me and knelt to put his arms around me and help me up. “Are you all right?” he asked, and when I nodded he pulled me against him and wrapped his arms around me.

  Maybe I was just a little loopy from getting punched in the head, but him holding me like that felt pretty darned good. A heck of a lot better than getting my brains beaten out with a shovel would have, I’ll bet.

  Deputies showed up, a couple of them with Lindsey Hoffman in tow. Two more lifted Perry to his feet. He was pale and only half conscious. Blood welled from the bullet wound in his right shoulder where Farraday had shot him. The lieutenant told his men to take Perry and Lindsey away, then turned to me.

  “Well, you almost got yourself killed,” he said to me. “Are you satisfied now?”

  I was still a little out of breath. “You know that…Perry and Lindsey…killed Kelley and Riley? I don’t know who did what, but they were in it together…I reckon.”

  “We’ll sort that out, don’t worry. They’ll probably be testifying against each other before we even get them locked up. That’s pretty much what I had in mind when I let everybody think I was blaming Riley for Kelley’s murder.”

  “You knew Riley wasn’t guilty?” Will said.

  Farraday made a face. “Please. I know a phony suicide when I see one.” He glared at me. “I was hoping that would make you stop poking around, though, and lull the real killer into making a mistake. I realize now the mistake was mine, thinking that a redheaded bulldog like Ms. Dickinson here would ever let go once she sunk her teeth into something.”

  I started to sputter. “Redheaded bulldog? You’re the bulldog, you…you…”

  Farraday grinned. “Take it easy, Red. You don’t want to bust a blood vessel.”

  Will tightened his arms around me. “You just made another mistake, Lieutenant,” he said. “I’ll hang on to her. You’d better run while you’ve got the chance.”

  I have to admit, I wanted to give Farraday a good piece of my mind right about then.

  But what the heck. I liked the sound of Will Burke hanging on to me even better.

  CHAPTER 26

  “I don’t understand,” Augusta said. “Ashley Wilkes killed Rhett Butler? That’s just wrong.”

  “They weren’t really Ashley and Rhett, Augusta,” Amelia said. “They were just actors.”

  “I know that! You don’t have to act like I’m an idiot or something.”

  “Well, I don’t see why you don’t understand. Aunt Delilah explained everything perfectly clearly.”

  I was glad Amelia thought everything was perfectly clear. I was so tired, I wasn’t really sure of anything anymore, plus I had a little headache, probably from getting punched.

  But at least this time it actually was over. With Mr. Cobb at the wheel, the bus full of my clients had pulled out of the plantation driveway past all the TV news trucks and the reporters clamoring for exclusive statements. The trip back to Atlanta had gone off without a hitch and everybody was back where they were supposed to be, including the girls and Luke and me. I sat in my office along with Melissa. She had wanted to know everything that had happened, of course, so I had just gone through all of it again.

  Now she shook her head and said, “I was so worried when I heard that there was some sort of trouble at the plantation. I couldn’t reach any of
you on your cell phones, and I didn’t know what was going on. I started to drive out there, but then I thought you might need me to hold down the fort here this morning.”

  “You did exactly the right thing,” I told her. “There was nothing you could have done to help, anyway.”

  “I dunno, Miz D,” Luke said. “We could’ve used a hand with all our detective work.”

  Augusta laughed. “‘Our’ detective work? I don’t remember you doing anything to help Aunt Delilah solve the murders, Luke.”

  “Well…I would have. I sure wouldn’t have let her go out there into that garden by herself and nearly get killed.”

  That comment sobered the place up real quick. Now that it was all over, it was easy to get caught up in the solution to the mystery and forget about how close I had come to dying.

  Easy for the rest of them, maybe, I should say. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forget what it had felt like to lie there on the ground and watch Perry Newton get ready to kill me.

  But it was over and done with now, and I said, “Here’s something you can do for me, Luke. You and Melissa take the girls back to my house, okay?”

  “Sure. What are you gonna do, Miz D?”

  “I thought I’d just sit here for a while. You know, decompress.” As exhausted as I was, I still wasn’t sure I could sleep.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right, Mom?” Melissa asked. “You’ve been through a lot, and you’re not as young as you used to be.”

  “I’m not as old as I’m gonna be, either,” I said, flaring up a little. “Now go on, all of you. Git, and let me have a little peace and quiet for a change. Just turn on the answerin’ machine on your way out.”

  They all stood up to leave. Augusta said, “I still want to talk to you sometime about getting my belly button pierced, Aunt Delilah.”

  “Augusta!” Amelia, Melissa, and Luke all said at once.

  Finally, they were gone and I was alone with my thoughts. I was still worried about what this mess was going to do to the reputation of my business, not to mention the possibility of lawsuits and things like that, but I would deal with all that when the time came. I pushed all of that out of my mind and tried to think about the future instead. My hand stole into the pocket of my blazer and found the card Will Burke had given me.

  If I was still in the business of setting up literary-oriented tours when all the hoopla from this one blew over, I would definitely need to call Will and get his advice. I was already thinking about other Southern authors. There were plenty of ’em: Tennessee Williams, William Faulkner, Harper Lee, Truman Capote, even old Mark Twain himself. We just might be on to something here, I thought.

  I went to sleep right there in my office chair, with Will Burke’s card still in my hand and a smile on my face.

  Gone With the Wind Tours

  Experience the legendary land of Gone With the Wind:

  Margaret Mitchell House & Museum, birthplace of Gone With the Wind, where Margaret Mitchell penned the world’s best-selling novel

  Lunch at Mary Mac’s Tea Room, authentic Southern hospitality and cuisine

  And in nearby Clayton County:

  Stately Oaks Plantation, antebellum plantation home

  Margaret Mitchell House & Museum

  990 Peachtree Street

  Atlanta, Georgia 30309

  404-249-7015

  The Visitors Center, located next to the house on the corner of Peachtree Street and Peachtree Place, includes the ticket counter, a small theater, and a visual arts exhibit gallery. Exclusive photographs and exhibits tell the story of Margaret Mitchell before, during, and after Gone With the Wind made her a household name. The tour starts in the Visitors Center with “Before Scarlett: The Writings of Margaret Mitchell” and continues into the house, through her apartment where she wrote Gone With the Wind, and finally to the Gone With the Wind Movie Museum, which includes objects such as the legendary doorway to Tara from the movie set. The museum shop offers unique gifts, souvenirs, and Gone With The Wind collectibles and memorabilia.

  Margaret Mitchell and her husband, John Marsh, moved into the house in 1925, when the building was known as the Crescent Apartments. Apartment #1 is the only interior space of the restored house that is preserved as an apartment. Architectural features include the famous leaded glass window out of which Margaret looked while writing the book, and tile in the foyer of her apartment. All furnishings are of the period.

  Moving on to the Gone With the Wind Movie Museum, attractions include the front door of the Tara Plantation house and the portrait of Scarlett from the Butler house, both taken from the actual movie sets. The portrait still bears a liquor stain from a drink Clark Gable’s Rhett Butler threw at it. Other original materials on display include storyboards from the film studio’s art department created to choreograph movie scenes, and costume sketches by Walter Plunkett. The exhibition also features Margaret Mitchell’s original correspondence from 1938 and 1939, discussing her hopes that the novel over which she had labored so long would be portrayed accurately in the film version.

  Mary Mac’s Tea Room

  Not far from the Margaret Mitchell House, Mary Mac’s Tea Room opened in 1945. Over the years a series of hard-working proprietors developed it into one of the South’s best-known restaurants with a great tradition of Southern cuisine and hospitality. Still in the same place it has always been, the Tea Room offers a menu that remains very similar to what it was when the restaurant was founded all those years ago.

  Plantation Tours—While Tara Plantation in this novel is fictional, there are many plantations to visit like Stately Oaks. Experience history and genuine Southern hospitality when you visit the historic 1839 Greek Revival Antebellum plantation home, Stately Oaks. Stately Oaks is a beautifully restored home with the original log kitchen and other historic outbuildings located in Jonesboro, Georgia. Nineteenth-century, authentically costumed docents provide guided tours depicting the rural South during the mid-1800s. Recapture the past with a visit to Stately Oaks!

  For more information about Gone With The Wind and for tour information check out the website http://www.gwtw.org.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 2008 by Livia J. Washburn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2008933822

  ISBN: 0-7582-3700-6