LOVE, HOPES, & MARRIAGE TROPES Page 21

  Rhett chuckled. We made it back up to the front, and I stopped Auntie, straightened out her clothes and puffed her hair back up. “We don’t want anyone to know you were having schoolyard fights out back,” I said. “Now lick your lips and put on a smile.”

  She did as she was told and smiled back at me. “I’m okay,” she said, and gave a firm nod. “I’ll just go in and check on my dais so we can get this started.

  As she started over, I saw Miriam Colter slip into the room right ahead of her.

  Then something clicked inside my head.

  I looked over at Auntie. She was waltzing toward the room, arm outstretched to reach for the knob, my eyes wide as saucers, my jaw slack.

  Oh, my gosh, I thought and took in a breath, I know who killed Bumper!

  “Auntie, stop!” I said rather loudly across the room. “Don’t go in that room.”

  “What?” Auntie Zanne said, turning to look at me. She placed her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back out.”

  “No! We have to wait to start, Auntie,” I said, I trotted over to her and pulled her hand away. “We can’t start until Pogue gets here.”

  “I already told you, I’ll make the report later.”

  “I don’t understand why he isn’t here,” I said, turning to look out of the front doors. “What is taking him so long?” I pulled out my phone to call him again.

  “I think everything will be okay,” Rhett said. “Shane’s gone, I don’t think he’ll be back after what you said Babet did.”

  “Why are you looking so worried?” Auntie said.

  I was fumbling with the phone and mumbling. “He came to the funeral,” I muttered. “He should’ve been here, too.”

  “He came to the funeral to find the killer, which he evidently didn’t do because he just left here with a truck full of evidence. And neither did we...” Auntie was still rambling when Pogue picked up the line.

  “Pogue,” I said whispering into the phone. I wasn’t sure if the butterflies were from me solving it, or fear of how my poor cousin was going to react when I told him I had.

  “Romie, why are you whispering into the phone? Are you alright? I thought everything was under control.”

  “I thought you were on your way here. How far away are you from Angel’s Grace?”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I think I may have solved the case, and the killer is here now.”

  “What case, Romie? You better not be talking about the Hackett case. I thought this was just missing sports drinks.”

  I grunted. “Okaaay...”

  “What case, Romie?”

  “Uhm...”

  “Romie.”

  “The Hackett case.” I spit it out. “I’ve solved the Hackett case.”

  Auntie Zanne looked at me, surprise in her eyes. Rhett shook his head and started grinning.

  “I knew it!” Auntie Zanne said. “I was right all along.”

  “It’s not who you think,” I told her.

  “You did what?” Pogue said. He was yelling into my ear.

  “I’m not right?” Auntie Zanne said, yelling into the other one. “Who is it then? How do you know who did it?”

  “Shhh!” I said to Auntie Zanne, “I can’t hear Pogue.”

  “I told you not to go messing in my case,” Pogue said.

  “Well if you don’t get over here soon, that statement is going to come back and bite you in the butt because I have solved it and you’re going to let the killer get away.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  It seemed like it took forever for Pogue to get to the community center and I was a little nervous about people getting restless or anxious. But deep down I knew that people around these parts did whatever Auntie Zanne wanted, so her saying we had to delay didn’t cause any commotion. Most people thought that if Babet Derbinay said it was necessary, it must be. And she posted her Roble Belles to the outside door, and told the twins, Mark and Leonard Wilson to guard the door where I told her the killer was. She was going to make sure no one got away.

  I had filled Auntie in on who I thought the killer was right after I spoke with Pogue. She didn’t want to wait for Pogue to get there so I wouldn’t have to tell the story twice, she had to know right then.

  “I’m not holding up this event unless you tell me,” she had said. “I have to know what you’ve come up with is legit.”

  Certainly because her suspect was “legit.”

  I shook my head. I needed her to help me contain the situation, so I spilled the beans and told her my theory. Rhett found out because, true to his word, he didn’t leave my side.

  “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” she said when I told her. “That’s sounds like it could be right.”

  When Pogue got there, looking very official and stern, but not as infuriated as I thought he’d be. He came in and walked over to me.

  “Auntie Zanne has everyone contained,” I pointed to the back room. “So I can give you a quick rundown and you can go in.”

  He held up his hand to stop me when I tried to tell him how I’d figured it out and said, “Let’s just do this. You can tell me once we get in there.” He started walking toward the room.

  “But wait,” I said, and caught up with him. “We need to get another person in that room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he needs to be in there.”

  He huffed. “Who is it?”

  I pointed with my head. “That guy over there.”

  Pogue turned and looked at the direction I was pointing. “I’ve seen him before,” he said. “At the funeral.”

  “Right,” I said. “He was also the best man at the wedding.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Chase Turner.”

  “Fine. I’ll get him. Then are we good to go into the room?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay.” He looked over at Rhett. “Can you come back there, too? I might need your help.”

  “Sure,” Rhett said. “Happy to help.”

  Pogue collected Chase without too much disruption and we relieved the Wilson Twins of their post. I wasn’t sure how much resistance they could put up if anyone had tried to exit, but Auntie Zanne must have felt confident in their abilities.

  When we walked in, everyone turned to look at us. Everyone included the wedding party: Piper, Marilee, Tonya, Boone, and LaJay. Chase hadn’t been invited to participate in the tribute so he wasn’t in the back but I knew that he too was on lock down and wouldn’t be able to escape.

  Then there was Mrs. Hackett, Mrs. Alvarez, Delphine Griffith and Miriam Coulter. Those last two entering the room was what tipped me off to the identity of the murderer.

  I was pretty sure at this point the culprit had thought that no one was on their trail.

  “Are we ready to start?” Mrs. Hackett asked when we came in. She seemed impatient. There was sweat over her upper lip smearing her flat red lipstick.

  “Not quite yet,” Auntie Zanne said. “Pogue needs to speak with you first.”

  “Sheriff Folsom,” I leaned in and whispered to Auntie.

  “What?” she said and frowned. “Oh yes,” she nodded acknowledging my correction. “I meant Sheriff Folsom. He’s here on official business.”

  “What kind of official business?” Piper asked.

  “Murder,” Pogue said.

  “I’m just here because I’m in charge of the mums,” Miriam Colter said. “I haven’t killed anyone lately.”

  “Lately?” Pogue asked.

  “Did I say lately?” Mrs. Colter said. “I meant ever.” She fanned her face and blew out a breath. “Never.”

  “Same goes for me,” Delphine Griffith said. “I just came to say hi to Boone.” She looked at him and smiled sweetly. “He’s that family I told you ab
out.” She directed her last statement to me.

  “I know,” I said and nodded.

  “Okay,” Pogue said. “Let’s do this.” He turned to me. “Romaine,” he said and snorted. “You do it. Tell them.”

  I could tell he was upset with me, not mad, but I wasn’t going to try to placate him in front of everybody in the room. Plus, I was happy to tell what I’d discovered.

  “Tell us what?” Mrs. Alvarez said. I didn’t think she thought very highly of me after I sat with her at the funeral.

  “Who Bumper’s murderer is,” Auntie said. “She’s figured it out.”

  All eyes turned to me.

  “Have you?” Mrs. Hackett asked. “You know who killed my son?”

  “I do,” I said.

  “And who was it?” Mrs. Hackett said. “Are they in this room?”

  I nodded. “Yes. He is in this room. Waiting to go out and speak about your son like nothing happened. Aren’t you, Boone?”

  “Boone!” His name came from several places around the room. “No!” I heard someone else say among the gasps.

  “When did you come up with that craziness?” Boone asked. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Oh, but you did,” I said. “I just figured it out today. When I saw your truck.” I looked at Auntie. “What division one school recruited Boone Alouette, Auntie Zanne? Do you know?”

  “Oh, I sure do,” she said. “Lots of them wanted him, but he chose Louisiana State University. Didn’t you, Boone?”

  “So?” he said.

  “So that was one of the things that helped me figure it was you,” I said. “No, it wasn’t the smoking gun, but it wasn’t until I saw it today that I could put all the pieces together.”

  “Today?” he said narrowing his eyes.

  “Yes,” I said, a smirk spreading across my face. “But that’s not what you thought, is it? You thought I was on to you a lot earlier than just today, didn’t you?” I said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his attitude nonchalant, his words flat.

  “Oh, I think you do,” I said. “Yours was the truck that tried to run me over the other night out by the morgue.”

  “No it wasn’t,” he said.

  “The purple and gold fleur-de-lis decal on the bumper.” I let my words linger before I continued. “Louisiana State University lettering in your back window.”

  “If I was behind the wheel and wanted you dead, you would be,” he said.

  “Just like you wanted Bumper dead?” Auntie said.

  “What reason would I want that?” Boone asked and shrugged. “He was my best friend.”

  “Your best friend who didn’t want you as a best man,” she countered.

  “I told you, just like I told everyone,” Boone answered, agitation bubbling up, “I wasn’t sure I could get here.”

  “He didn’t want you as his best man because he knew what you’d been up to,” I said.

  “You’re sounding crazy,” Boone said, I was sure he had no idea I’d figured out all of it. “I haven’t been up to anything.”

  “You’ve been up to a lot,” Auntie Zanne said.

  “Like what?” Mrs. Alvarez said. She certainly didn’t seem so bothered with me any more.

  “Like scamming old people out of their savings in a Medicare scam,” Auntie Zanne said. She just wasn’t going to let me tell anything without her input.

  “Medicare scam?” Boone bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes darting around the room.

  Yeah, Boone, we got you...

  “You moved from credit cards to Medicare, didn’t you?”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but Bumper had promised Chase a confession and that was the only motive I could think of as I was sure it was Boone who had killed him.

  “Wait,” a voice came from the door. I turned to look and it was Chase.

  “We didn’t ask you in here to interrupt,” Pogue said to Chase. “Keep it up and you’re going to have to leave.”

  “No. I know about this,” Chase said, his words stumbling out. He looked to me pleadingly, seemingly asking for me to get him permission to speak. “He’s the one Bumper was going to tell me about.” He squinted his eyes and shook his head. “I-Isn’t that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s what I’m saying. Bumper had promised you he would get a confession for you from the guilty party. That was you, right, Boone?”

  “He wasn’t going to make me tell anyone anything,” Boone said defiantly. “Who did he think he was? He wasn’t no angel.”

  “Don’t talk about the dead,” Mrs. Alvarez said and came and stood next to Mrs. Hackett.

  “Hold on.” Miriam Colter used her cane to push herself up from the chair. “Is Boone the one that called my house?”

  “Possibly,” I said. “But if he isn’t, I’m almost sure he can tell you it was.”

  “What does this have to do with murder, Romaine?” Pogue said.

  “It’s the motive, Pogue,” I said, not taking my eyes off of Boone. “And it’s the reason that Bumper didn’t want Boone to be his best man.”

  “I already told you... I told everyone,” Boone’s anger was starting to bare, “I wasn’t sure if I could get here.”

  “You knew you could,” I said, “He didn’t want you because of the bad things you’d done. Hurting people and not wanting to fess up. And you were afraid if you didn’t confess, he would tell. So that’s when you came up with your plan.”

  “What?” he said and hunched his shoulders. “What did I plan?”

  “The murder.” I heard another collective gasp. “You killed Bumper because he was going to tell that you were part of that Medicare scheme that bilked money from seniors. You used their need to get help with their Medicare Part D plans. Telling them to send you money and they wouldn’t have to ever pay for prescriptions again.”

  “Let me at him,” Miriam said, waving her cane. “He’ll need more than Medicare when I finish with him.”

  “Somebody want to get her?” Pogue said.

  “I’ve got her,” Delphine said, patting Mrs. Colter on the back. “C’mon now, let them take care of this.”

  “What was my murderous plan?” Boone said. “Bet you can’t answer that. You know why? Because there wasn’t one.”

  “Oh, yes it was, and I can answer that,” I said. “The first part of your plan was to trigger an asthma attack to make sure Bumper needed an inhaler. He hadn’t had an episode in a long time, since he moved to California.” I could see Mrs. Hackett nodding her head. “So you planned a trip to Louisiana. You knew taking Bumper to Lake Charles, one of the most humid places in the south, after he’d spent so much time in L.A. would trigger an asthma attack.”

  “There’s a lot of humidity in Lake Charles?” Mrs. Hackett asked. Her face contorted, she was wringing her hands.

  “It is,” I said.

  “How would I know that?” Boone said.

  “Because you go to school in Baton Rouge,” Auntie Zanne chimed in, her tone sarcastic. “You had to know how humid it was Louisiana, especially near water.”

  “You knew that was his trigger,” Jorianne said, repeating my already mentioned observation. “Is that why you wanted to keep it a secret?” She got more upset with each word. “Where you were taking him? Upset because he posted those pictures of the Golden Nugget?”

  “No,” Boone said. “I didn’t think about that. None of this makes sense. How would I have even killed him?”

  “You put poison in his inhaler,” Auntie Zanne said.

  “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did,” I said. “In the inhaler that you told me you hadn’t seen.”

  “I didn’t see it,” Boone said. “And Piper told you that Chase had it. He’s probably the one who did it.” He flung an arm toward Chase. �
��We don’t even know anything about him.”

  “Oh, Chase did have Bumper’s inhaler,” I said. “The one he used in the gazebo that day. But he gave it to Dr. Hale when he was going into the ambulance.” I looked at Pogue. “He can verify that’s what happened.”

  “That is what happened,” Chase said.

  “And I bet if we test Chase’s military uniform pants pocket, where he put it after he picked it up when Bumper collapsed, we might even find traces of the poison he used to kill him.”

  “How’d Boone get hold of an inhaler?” Pogue asked, coming to stand next to me.

  “I’m sorry to say it, but Mrs. Hackett had them strategically placed everywhere.” I glanced over at her. “She had even passed them out to the wedding party.”

  “He was having trouble breathing,” Mrs. Hackett said. “I didn’t want... I didn’t know...” She broke out in sobs. Piper went over and rubbed her back. “I didn’t want anything to happen to him,” she blurted. Her eyes were red-rimmed. “I wanted to have his medicine close by.”

  “And Boone counted on you doing that,” I said. “That way he wouldn’t have to worry about it being suspicious that he had an inhaler.”

  “Boone asked me did I have any around,” Mrs. Hackett said.

  “When?” I asked.

  “After he came home from school for the wedding.” She sniffed. “He thought maybe the nervousness of the day might trigger an attack. Said he just wanted to careful.”

  “Boone said that to you?” Jorianne said.

  She nodded, she was trying to hold back more tears so she could speak. “Asked me if I still put them all around.”

  “I did no such thing,” Boone said.

  “Yes, you did,” Mrs. Hackett said.

  “What did you tell him?” Auntie Zanne asked.

  “I told him yes. But they probably weren’t any good after all this time. Still that made me think I should get more.”

  “How did you get them?” I asked, remembering that Mr. McDougal at the pharmacy said he hadn’t seen a prescription for Bumper since he left for college.

  “Miriam Coulter,” Mrs. Hackett said and pointed.

  We looked over at her. She held up her hands in defense. “Didn’t I just say I hadn’t killed anyone?”