South Seas Shenanigans Page 4

  “Murdered?” she shrieked.

  Well that didn’t make it any better.

  “Miss Vivee!” I said. “Why would you say that?”

  “You told me to do something.”

  “I didn’t tell you to lie to her. You were supposed to comfort her.”

  “Well, isn’t it a comfort to know that the murderer won’t get away with his crime?” Her face looked confused as if she couldn’t understand my logic.

  Only it was her logic that was faulty.

  “Mrs. Gruger,” I said and slid up next to her trying to get in front of Miss Vivee. “Your husband was in a terrible accident.”

  “Accident,” her eyes got big and she was nodding her head. “Yes. That’s what Avvy said. “It was an accident.”

  “I’ve seen Campbell Gruger swim,” Mac said. “No way he wouldn’t have survived that fall into the water.”

  “But I’ve noticed Madda Crawford on the beach before. She couldn’t swim,” I said showing I’d been observant as well. “So maybe she fought in the water because she was scared, and they both drowned.”

  “In those calm waters?” Miss Vivee said. “Tsk.” She sucked her tongue and waved her hand at me.

  “Maybe it was an accident. That or the accident caused him to lose consciousness?” I offered. “Then he couldn’t have helped Madda.”

  Miss Vivee held her hand up. “Well if you just want to lie to the girl . . .” she said. “Be my guest.” She got up from the lounger.

  Sassy looked from me to Miss Vivee.

  “I’m not trying to be rude Mrs-”

  “Whitson,” Miss Vivee said, sounding as if she didn’t want anything else to do with the conversation.

  “It’s just that I didn’t know.” Sassy put on a pouty, apologetic face. “I didn’t know that that was a possibility.”

  “Now you know,” Miss Vivee said.

  “Now I know,” Sassy repeated, her voice softening, she held out her hand for Miss Vivee.

  Oh brother.

  Miss Vivee gave me a smirk, then took Sassy’s outstretched “olive branch.”

  “It’s alright, sweetie,” Miss Vivee said. “Everything will be okay.”

  “So he was murdered?”

  Miss Vivee nodded her head.

  “And did he really kill someone else, too?”

  “That was an accident,” Mac said. “But yes, it looks that way.”

  “Who was it?” Sassy asked

  “Madda Crawford. An American, too,” Mac said. “Older woman. But she seemed quite nice.”

  Mac looked at Miss Vivee, it was easy to see he didn’t want her to say anything about his comment.

  I guess it isn’t a good thing to speak ill of the dead.

  “This is just a mess!” Sassy said and started her blubbering again. She swung her feet off the chaise lounge and stood up. She tottered over to the door, one hand on head, the other holding her back, then turned back to us. “Someone murdered Cam?” Eyes as red as her lipstick, tears were flowing down her cheeks. “I just can’t believe it?” Her words were melding in with her sobs. She tossed her head back and forth in disbelief. “Everybody loved him.”

  “Evidently not,” Miss Vivee said.

  Now I felt like I was in a 1950s movie.

  “Miss Vivee,” I said, trying to calm the situation. “You don’t know that for sure.”

  Sassy looked at me, then at Miss Vivee like she didn’t know who to believe. She sniffed back her tears, and spotting a cloth napkin on the mini bar, she walked over, grabbed it and blew her nose on it like it was a hanky. Then she dropped it to the floor.

  I was going to use paper napkins from here on out.

  “Who is that woman?” Sassy said, she leaned toward Miss Vivee and nodded toward me.

  I guess she had chosen sides.

  “You shouldn’t get her riled up with your presumptions,” I said ignoring the apparent collusion against me.

  Miss Vivee’s eyes got wide and she smacked her lips. I could tell that she didn’t like what I said.

  Sassy watched us, swallowing hard, she nosily sniffed her snot back up in quick succession. Our eyes locking momentarily.

  Was she considering coming back to my side?

  “Tell her, Mac,” Miss Vivee said. “Tell her her husband was murdered.”

  “My wife has plenty of experience in the area,” Mac said being obviously, at least to me, non-committal.

  “See,” Miss Vivee said.

  I guess she hadn’t taken Mac’s comment the same way I had.

  And with that perfunctory conclusion by Miss Vivee, Sassy opened her mouth and let out another wail.

  Oh my, God.

  Chapter Eight

  I was beginning to think that Sassy Gruger really had stepped out of a movie – a 1910 silent movie. She was so melodramatic.

  I thought perhaps that it was just a Southern thing. Delicate, sensitive women – left over vestiges from another era. I’d seen Brie and Renmar act that way. I’d even seen Miss Vivee pretend to, because in reality, nothing bowled her over.

  Miss Vivee had taken right to Sassy. She called her by only one name, something Miss Vivee reserved for members of the family or extremely close friends. Miss Vivee seemed in awe of Sassy from the moment she stepped off the boat. And then with her accent and Southern charm, I bet it made Miss Vivee feel like she was home. That and because Sassy probably reminded Miss Vivee of Renmar.

  Renmar Colquett, Miss Vivee’s oldest daughter, and mother to my fiancé (I just love saying that word), Bay Colquett, was a true Southern belle.

  Sassy settled down. Again.

  I would have a headache if I bounced back and forth between emotions as fast, and as much as she did.

  “So, you’re a doctor?” Sassy asked Mac and smiled sweetly.

  “Retired,” Mac said. “But I try to keep up with all the new medical advances.”

  “My daddy is a doctor. But, like my momma, I’m just a little ‘ole housewife.”

  “Ain’t no shame in that,” Miss Vivee said.

  “And what do you do?” Sassy flapped a hand my way.

  “She’s our granddaughter,” Mac said, answering for me. “And she’s an archaeologist.”

  “Really?” Sassy squinted her eyes like just the thought of me was giving her a headache.

  “Yes,” Mac said. “And a very good one.”

  Thanks, Grandad.

  Mac pointed at Miss Vivee. “My wife, Vivee, is a doctor of sorts, too.

  “Are you now?” Sassy said. “And whatever does that mean, ‘a doctor of sorts’?”

  “I’m a Voodoo herbalist,” Miss Vivee said.

  “Oh my,” Sassy said and hiccupped. “I love that! What I wouldn’t do for some of my Momma’s Chamomile and lavender tea right now.” Sassy placed her hand over her heart. “It would surely ease the pain of the hole that’s being bore into my heart.”

  She was speaking right up Miss Vivee’s alley.

  “You come with us,” Miss Vivee said. She offered Sassy a hand as she got up, then wrapped her arms around Sassy’s. “I’ve got just the thing.”

  We walked out of the cabana and toward Miss Vivee and Mac’s bure. “Ashwaganda tea,” Miss Vivee said. “It’s from a plant that’s native to India. It’ll help calm you. Take all your stress away. I brought it with me from Georgia.”

  Oh she’s got tea for Sassy, but nothing for me when my skin was burning off my body.

  But nonetheless, I was glad to be leaving out of the cramped cabana, and Sassy’s antics was enough to make my head spin.

  Mac led the way, as we single-filed out of the small beach house, when Miss Vivee came up from behind and pinched me.

  “Ouch!” I said and snatched my arm away.

  “Don’t embarrass me in front of people like that,” Miss Vivee said. “Not ever again.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Telling her that I didn’t know what I was talking about, like I’m just some old, loon
ey biddy.”

  “What? I never said that.”

  “You implied it. Telling her we can’t be sure it was murder.” She nodded her head at me. “If you don’t have anything nice to say,” she said. “Then don’t say anything.”

  I guess telling the truth wasn’t a “nice” thing to say.

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  “I’m really going to miss him,” Sassy said, she looked at Miss Vivee over the rim of her teacup, her eyes sad, her voice low.

  Still her demeanor had changed since we’d left the cabana. Maybe it was the walk in the sunshine, or Miss Vivee’s tea. I wasn’t sure, but she seemed calmer. More sane.

  We had made it to Miss Vivee and Mac’s bure. Miss Vivee had brewed tea, and even let me have a cup of it, although she whispered to me that I didn’t need any.

  “I’m sure you are sad,” Miss Vivee said. “Mac and I are just newlyweds, but I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “Newlyweds!” Sassy clapped her hands together. “Hush your mouth!”

  “It’s true,” Mac said. “Took me darn near forty years to get her to say ‘I do.’”

  “Cam and I had only been married four years. But, I declare, those were the happiest years of my life. I couldn’t begin to tell you how much I loved him.”

  “More than Carter’s got pills?” Miss Vivee asked.

  “More than Carter’s got pills,” Sassy said and nodded. “And I was a good wife, too. Weren’t nobody gonna treat him better and he knew it.” She laughed. “And to prove he knew it, he was the best husband and friend a girl could have. While he was here, we talked every day, and when he wasn’t calling me, he was texting me.” She let out a slight giggle. “Faithful, loving, I just couldn’t have wished for a better husband.” Sassy took a sip of her tea. “I tell you, I was leading a fairytale life. He only had eyes for me.”

  “I say,” Miss Vivee said.

  “My momma always told me to take good care of my man, and he’d take good care of me,” Sassy said in her signature Southern drawl. “And my daddy taught me what it took to do that.”

  “And what is it that you did?” Miss Vivee asked.

  I leaned in to listen, too. I didn’t have any good examples of how to keep your man happy.

  My father was a saint to put up with my crazy mother. She was always getting into something. And in addition to that she suffered from depression, so some days it was hard for anyone to be around her, if she’d let us come close. She was nice to my father, although I couldn’t tell you what it was that she did that was considered “taking good care” of her man, or how they stayed married for more than thirty years.

  And Mac was a diehard when it came to Miss Vivee. She could roll over him with an eighteen wheeler (or her 1994 Lincoln Town Car – true story) and he’d love her just the same. So I wanted to hear what Sassy had to say.

  “I do declare,” Sassy said, she stretched her eyes open and started fanning her hands beside them. “You are going to make me start crying all over again!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, dear.” Miss Vivee started fanning her hands in Sassy’s face too. “Would you like some more tea? Mac get her more tea.”

  “No thank you, ma’am,” Sassy said. I can’t sit here any longer, acting like a bump on a log. I’ve got to get moving.”

  It looked as if the tears she tried to hold at bay, weren’t cooperating. I could see a few fall down her cheeks.

  “I have to get all of my husband’s belongings,” Sassy said. “Pack them up, collect him and make arrangements to get him back to Meridian.” She stood up. “I can hear my momma now, ‘Sassy,’ she’d say, ‘hold your head up, girl. Put on your good face, and show them what you’re made of.’”

  She walked to the mirror over the dresser, dug in her purse, and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She smeared more of the flat red color on her lips, fluffed her hair, adjusted her scarf, and turned to look at us. “And when my daddy thought I needed a little motivation, he’d say, ‘You’re an Alcott, Sassy. You go out there and give ‘em hell.’”

  Miss Vivee and Mac laughed. “Well, it looks like you were raised right,” Miss Vivee said. “And don’t worry, we’re here to help you do whatever you need to do.”

  “Ain’t that just the nicest thing,” Sassy said, swiping the tears from her face. “Well, I just thank you, because right now I could use a friend. Or two.”

  I’m guessing I wasn’t included in that distinction . . .

  Chapter Nine

  “What I’d like,” Sassy said, acting as if she didn’t want to put Miss Vivee out. “Is help getting my husband’s things from that mountainside camp. The one where he was training? I had all kinds of expensive stuff sent up there and, I just don’t want anything to happen to it.”

  “You want us to go with you?” Mac offered. “Give you a hand?”

  “We’d be happy to help,” Miss Vivee said. “I’ll just have to grab my pocketbook, and we’ll be ready to go.”

  “Oh! What a relief,” Sassy said. “I dreaded going up there by myself, face those people, everyone knowing that Cam was dead.” She swiped her hand over her forehead. “I’ll arrange us a ride up there.”

  Our ride was a jeep she borrowed from Temo. I had to sit in the rumble seat. I guess that was the area assigned to “non-friends.”

  Sassy rambled on the entire time we drove up the mountainside. “Cam and I came up here last year, that’s when he found out about this place. This camp is small,” she said, “but it fit his needs. It’s run by Harley Grace Manicore. It ain’t much, but she gives it all she’s got. Plus, she is just starting out.”

  “What’s the camp for?” Miss Vivee asked.

  “Cyclists,” Sassy said like it was a silly question. “They clean and tune the bikes for the bikers, teach them about nutrition . . .” She threw up her hands. “I don’t know, exactly. ‘It’s training, honey,’ is all Cam would say.” She let out a laugh. “I’m not always too quick in catching on to new things, I’m sure it can be frustrating to others, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I do,” Miss Vivee said. “I live with Logan.”

  What is that supposed to mean?

  “Now you have to be careful when we get farther up,” Sassy said. “The air is thinner, it might be harder for you to breath. And it’s cooler. And from what I’ve been told, that makes it a good place to train. And besides good roads, and trails, the view is spectacular.”

  “It is beautiful up here,” Mac said.

  On either side of the roads everything was lush and green. There were tall densely growing, broad-leaved trees, flowering plants, and a chorus of chirping and buzzing.

  When we got up to the camp, it reminded me of my excavations sites. There was a clearing with a few tents scattered about, and it was enclosed with a makeshift wooden fence. There were a few people around, and lots of bikes.

  But then, right outside of the perimeter, hidden behind trees and shrubbery, I could’ve sworn I saw Hank Harrison. He was just standing there. I squinted and stared for a moment, then turned away. When I turned back, he was gone. I shook my head and blinked a couple of times. Maybe I was just seeing things.

  But if I weren’t, that was the second time today I’d seen him just lurking around.

  We got out of the jeep and headed toward a tent that had a sign that read, “Office.”

  “Gregory,” Sassy said. She spoke to one of the bikers as we passed him. Her attitude with him was formal and terse. So unbecoming to the Sassy I had gotten used to seeing in the last two hours.

  He nodded in response.

  “Have you seen Harley Grace?”

  He jerked his head in the direction we were already going. “She’s over there.”

  “Harley,” Sassy said and held out her arms for an embrace as we entered the tent.

  “I’m really sorry for your loss, Sassy,” Harley Grace said. She stood up from her desk and walked over, giving Sassy a hug. Harley Grace was dress
ed in cyclist tights that had pink piping, and had on a pink windbreaker. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her skin was tanned, and her eyes were red. It was easy to see she’d been crying.

  “It’s both of our losses,” Sassy said. “I know you loved him, too.”

  Tears started flowing from Harley Grace’s eyes. “I did,” she said. “He was like a brother to me. I’m going to miss him.”

  Miss Vivee and Mac walked around the tent as Sassy and Harley Grace talked. I followed behind her like I was Cat, her wheaton Scottish terrier, who even after lots of pouting and slamming stuff (not by the dog, but by Miss Vivee), had to be left at home.

  There were gallons of water in plastic containers, big cans of powdered protein drinks and bars, and cans of tuna that lined shelves on the wall. A generator kept a small fridge going, folding chairs were scattered about, and there were a slew of bikes stored there. All of them locked down tight with thick chains and U-lock shackles.

  “It just doesn’t seem real to me, Harley. I can’t understand. Why was he riding around on that moped?” Sassy asked. “He came here to get into shape.”

  “He was tired,” Harley Grace said. “He’d just got back from his century ride.”

  “Oh was that yesterday?” Sassy asked. “I was so proud that he was going to do that. And glad he did it here with you because I know you’d made sure he took all the right precautions.”

  “I did,” Harley Grace said.

  “Where’s his Yamaha?” Sassy asked looking around. “If he was on a moped, it should be here.”

  “Oh we haven’t gotten it back yet,” Harley Grace said.

  “Gotten it back? From where?” Sassy asked.

  “From Viti Levu,” she looked at Sassy. “The big island.”

  “Yes, I know it’s Viti Levu,” Sassy said.

  “Oh. Well, the chain broke on it and we sent it over to a bike shop there to have it repaired.”

  Sassy gasped like she’d just found out she’d found her best friend had succumbed to dysentery.

  “No big deal,” Harley Grace said. “It happens.”

  “What about his other bikes?” Sassy asked. “Couldn’t he have ridden down the mountian?”