Coastal Cottage Calamity (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Abby L. Vandiver Read Free Book Online Page B

letting
you know, out of courtesy,” Ron Anderson said unceremoniously to Bay as he
walked through the door. “We’ll be staying at the beach house. It’s our house
anyway since Oliver’s dead.”
    “You can’t stay at
the house, Mr. Anderson.” Bay seemed to try to be patient with the man. “It’s a
crime scene.”
    “I drove by there.
Doesn’t look like a crime scene to me. And from what I’ve heard from this
pitiful place you call a town, he died out on the beach. Not at the house.”
    Bay looked over at
the two of us, letting his eyes rest on his grandmother. Then his eyes darted
between Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. He took in a deep breath and blew it out.
    “I’m putting up
the tape tonight, Mr. Anderson,” he said. “As soon as I finish speaking with
you.”
    Mr. Anderson,
pulling his belted pants up over his belly, spread his legs shoulder width
apart, and let out a loud cackling laugh. “You don’t want to try my patience,”
he said, his voice booming. “I’ve contacted a lawyer up in Augusta and he told
me that I’ve got rights when it comes to what happens to Oliver. I’m getting an
injunction. First thing tomorrow morning. There will be no autopsy.” He nodded
his head as in confirmation. “I’ll – we’ll make sure of that,” he said jerking
a finger toward his wife.
    Charlie stood at
the door. She hadn’t come all the way in. She held a small stack of papers in
her hand, her head hung down the entire time her husband accosted Bay, she
didn’t say a word.
    “I think it’s best
if you leave now, Mr. Anderson,” Bay said and walked over to the door.
    “We’ll see who’ll
be giving orders come tomorrow morning,” Mr. Anderson said in a huff and
stepped out the door.
    Charlie lifted up
her eyes for the first time. She looked at us, a weak smile on her face. “So
sorry,” she said. And handed Bay the papers she’d been holding.
    “Hope to see you
there,” she said, turning she took long strides to catch up with her husband. She
got to the steps, turned around, came back and grabbed the knob on the open
door. “Sorry,” she said again pulling it shut.
    “What is that,
Bay?” Miss Vivee said and pointed to the stack of papers in his hand.
    I stood up and walked
over to him. I read the title. It appeared to be an announcement – flyer style.
I read it and shook my head.
    Bay chuckled when
he finished looking it over.  He leaned over and gave the flyers to his
grandmother.
    “They’ve planned a
memorial service for Oliver, it seems. Day after tomorrow at the Baptist
church. And they are inviting us to come.”
    “Oh he’s planned a memorial service?” Miss Vivee was visibly upset. “Well, I will
certainly be there,” Miss Vivee said. She gave a nod of her head and bawled up
the papers. “I’ve got something for that man.”
    “No investigating,
Grandmother,” Bay said and eyed Miss Vivee. “I heard about you wanting a
notebook.” He rubbed his hand over his head. “Although, it’s because of you
thinking there was foul play that I am going to put up that crime scene tape.
But that’s no go ahead for you thinking you’re auxiliary FBI.”
    Miss Vivee cut her
eyes at me and then said to Bay. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,
Grandson.” Her words accompanied by a fake sweetness. “I just wanted the
notebook to keep up with things. Keep my mind occupied and sharp. You know,
like with my crossword puzzles.”
    “This is FBI
business, Grandmother,” Bay wasn’t buying what Miss Vivee was dishing out. “Don’t
make me have to arrest you.” He looked at me. “The both of you,” he said and
wiggled his pointer finger between the two of us. I wasn’t sure if his stern
demeanor was real or not.
    “I’m not
investigating.” She spoke like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“When I said I had something for him when I see him at the memorial service,”
Miss Vivee said her tone changing, “I didn’t mean questions.” She tilted