Garden Gazebo Gallivant by Abby L. Vandiver

Author:Abby L. Vandiver [Vandiver, Abby L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Media Web Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2016-10-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

“How about a little dessert?” Miss Vivee said. “I have an idea of what we should do next. We can discuss it over some sweets and a cup of coffee.

“I’d like that,” my mother said. “What’s good here?”

“Not the peach cobbler, Mommy,” I said. “Peach pits kill.”

“A lot of peach pits kill,” Miss Vivee said. “And there aren’t any in the peach cobbler.”

“I’m having some,” Micah said.

“You’re going to eat more?” Miss Vivee asked.

“Dessert, right?” Micah asked. “Dessert isn’t extra, it goes with the meal.”

“I would have hated to feed that one,” Miss Vivee said.

“We still feed him,” my mother said. “That’s why my husband and I can’t afford to retire.”

We all laughed. Micah turned around and beckoned for Viola Rose.

I skipped desert. And while they ate theirs and sipped piping hot coffee, Miss Vivee pulled out her suspect notebook, and licked the tip of her No. 2 pencil.

“Suspects,” she said as she scrawled on the page.

“We only have two names,” my mother said.

“Wrong,” Miss Vivee said. “We have three. September Love and Keith Collier,” she wrote. “And Macomber Whitson.” She finished with a flourish.

“And we have a John Doe suspect, or suspects,” my mother said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Whoever chased Kimmie here and killed her for the artifact she claimed to possess.”

“Mom,” Micah said. He didn’t want her to go down that path.

“It might even be a cadre of evil mercenaries, backed by Christian zealots with ties to the Vatican,” my mother said, going down that road anyway.

“See,” Micah said. “It is like Dan Brown.”

“I’ll just write ‘Zealots,’ Justin,” Miss Vivee said and licked her pencil. “At least until we can find out their real names.”

I am not going to be able to take the both of them together for much longer.

“So how will we find out?” my mother asked.

“We’ll have to do a little B & E job.”

Micah’s fork stopped at the opening of his mouth. He dropped it onto his plate, mouth still wide. “‘B & E’ as in breaking and entering?”

“We can leave you out if you think it’s a conflict of interest,” Miss Vivee said.

“Mom?” Micah looked at her questioningly.

“Miss Vivee knows what she’s doing,” my mother said. “She’s solved six murders already.”

“Actually seven,” Miss Vivee said and held her chin a little higher. Evidently proud of her accomplishment. “The seventh was a cold case.” She nodded. “Sixty-six years old. I’ll tell you about that one later.”

“You’re not going to break in somewhere are you?” he asked our mother. “Really, Mom?” He picked up his phone. “I’m calling Dad.”

“Hold your horses,” Miss Vivee said. “I was thinking we’d just have a looksee around Stallings Inn.”

“Stallings Inn?” he asked as if the name sounded familiar.

“That’s Frankie Hunt’s place,” I said. “You know, Kimmie’s stepmom.”

“I know who Frankie Hunt is,” he said. “I’ve stayed in the same house with her since I got to Georgia.”

“She gave us the key, Micah,” my mother said. “Miss Vivee, you’ve got the key, right?”

“Sure do,” Miss Vivee said and pulled out a set of keys.

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