The High Tide Club
“Not much here that would hold up in court, is there, Howard?” Mary Balent asked.
“I won’t argue with you. But it wouldn’t have taken much for him to have done it. She weighed all of eighty pounds and was eaten up with cancer, on top of which she had some powerful prescription opioids in her system. And since we can’t exactly ask a dead man if he was a murderer, that’s the best we’re going to get,” the sheriff said.
“It’s more than enough for me,” Brooke said firmly. “I’ve got a son to raise and a law practice of my own and a funeral to plan. So if you’ll excuse me…”
70
Brooke had barely settled in at her desk the next day when her cell phone rang. The caller ID said Younts Mortuary.
“Miss Trappnell?” The woman’s voice had a soft, rural Southern accent, which was different from the harder-edged accents of urban Atlanta, Birmingham, or Charlotte. “This is Kendra Younts from the funeral home. I believe we met over on Talisa, the day of your great-aunt’s death.”
“Yes, I remember.” Brooke took a sip of the coffee she’d just poured.
“I spoke to Howard Goolsby last night, and we’ve gotten the okay to release Miss Josephine to the family.”
“That’s great. And by the way, the sheriff told me about your theories about Gabe Wynant. Thank you for your diligence.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kendra said, sounding properly somber. “The other reason I’m calling is because Miss Josephine has a pre-need plan in place with us.”
“Pre-need?” Brooke was drawing a blank.
“Yes. She actually set it up with my granddaddy twenty years ago. All the charges have been prepaid, and of course, we have her instructions.”
“Which are?”
“Cremation with remains in our Eternal Slumber Bronzesque urn. Now, that model is no longer in production, of course, but the finish on our new Odyssey urn is very similar. Will that be acceptable?”
“Um, sure,” Brooke said. “You should probably ask my mom, just as a technicality, but what the hell, I don’t think she’ll know the difference.”
“And Miss Josephine won’t care, will she? Oh, sorry, that’s a little funeral home humor. Anyway, I’m afraid that’s about the extent of your great-aunt’s wishes. The notes in the file say that she opted against a hearse or a funeral procession or reception here at the mortuary, and I see that she already has a headstone and a plot in the family cemetery on the island. It’s a fairly bare-bones plan.”
“More funeral home humor?” Brooke asked, chuckling.
“Sorry! Can’t help myself. My three-year-old didn’t sleep last night, and I’m a little punchy.”
“I totally understand. I have a three-year-old myself,” Brooke said. “What happens next?”
“We can have the remains ready for you by the end of the week,” Kendra said. “And if the family decides they would like a reception or something a little more formal, we would love to accommodate you. Miss Josephine was a much-beloved figure in this community, you know.”
“I’ll consult with my mother, but my feeling is that she’ll want to honor Josephine’s wishes,” Brooke said. “So just plan on having the remains ready on Friday, please.”
* * *
Shug picked her up at the municipal marina. It had rained the night before, which lifted the oppressive June heat a little but left the air as thick and humid as a wet wool blanket.
“How are things on the island?” Brooke asked. “Is Varina feeling all right?”
“Varina still gets a little blue, but Felicia just jokes her out of it, and once she takes her over to see how her house is coming along, she’s all smiles,” Shug reported. “Your mama called to say she’s sending a roofing crew over to Shellhaven next week, and Louette hasn’t been that happy in months. She says I’m too old to be getting up on rooftops, and I can’t disagree.”
“Have you seen much of C. D.?”
“He comes around. That shoulder’s still bandaged up, but I see him out walking most days. That man’s like a cockroach, you know? Can’t nothing kill him.” Shug cast her a sideways glance. “How about you? You gave us all a scare that day. I saw that blood all over you, and I could have sworn you’d been shot too.”
She touched the bandage on her cheekbone. It seemed to be healing, and the headaches had also subsided. “I guess I’m almost as tough as C. D.,” she said.
He nodded his approval. “Good to hear.”
* * *
Lizzie was waiting at the Shellhaven dock, behind the wheel of the blue VW. “You look almost human,” she said as Brooke climbed into the car.
“Thanks. I’m feeling better every day. Everything good over here? How’s your research on the magazine article coming?”
“I’ve got enough material for ten articles, or one book. Josephine and Preiss had an amazing life. Quite the partnership. Their correspondence is so sweet. It makes her seem like a real person. Almost. I’ve even found old records dating back to the plantation days. So what have you been up to?”
“I’m finally ramping up my campaign to stop the state from condemning Josephine’s land. I’ve been reaching out to the county commission and our state representatives, asking for a meeting so I can make my case. Also, we’re going to have Josephine’s funeral on Saturday.”
“I heard. Louette’s been in a frenzy, getting the house spiffed up. And Felicia and Varina are here, getting started on their baking. I get a sugar buzz just walking past the kitchen. Are you really having the service in the African Methodist Episcopal Church at Oyster Bluff?”
“It’s what Josephine wanted.”
“Is that why you’re over here today?”
“Not really. I need to talk to C. D.”
“He’s keeping kind of a low profile. Has he been pestering you about his inheritance?”
“He’s called me once or twice. The thing is, I’ve got news.”
“Do tell,” Lizzie said.
“The sheriff found the report on C. D.’s DNA testing in Gabe’s car.”
Lizzie pulled the VW around to the back of Shellhaven and parked. “And?”
Brooke held out the copy of the report. Lizzie read it carefully.
“As you can see, there’s zero evidence of a DNA match with Josephine,” Brooke said. “He’s going to be devastated.”
Lizzie was too busy reading to reply. After a few minutes, she looked up at her friend. “Did you read the whole report?” she asked. “Even the fine print?”
“Not really. Why?”
Lizzie thrust the report at Brooke, stabbing at it with her finger. “Check out this part right there.”
Brooke squinted at the print, reading it once, and then again, and finally a third time.
“Holy shit.”
“Right? Are you sure you want to give the whole report to him? Maybe you should just tell him there’s no match and leave it at that.”
“No. He’s got a right to know. He’s waited his whole life for this. This report might not have the answers he wanted, but he deserves to know something.”
“Do you have to go see C. D. right this minute?” Lizzie asked.
“No. He doesn’t even know I’m coming.”