Bed & Breakfast Bedlam - Abby L Vandiver Page 0,13

the tissue in her hand. “Gemma came in here every Friday since she got back. She was such a skinny little thing, all that exercise I guess. I was happy to feed her.”

“She loved your bouillabaisse,” Hazel said and nodded.

“Yes. She did,” Renmar said and nodded back.

Sheriff Haynes pulled his brown, four-dented brown hat off of his head, and swiped his hand though the tuft of chestnut hair that fell in his face. Though he seemed hot and frustrated, he kept a cool temper. He was slightly tanned with dark brown eyes and a square jawline. He looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties, and his tan colored, short-sleeved uniform hung well over his fit body. But with all the disorder he was dealing with, it seemed Renmar’s reaction to everything was giving him the most grief.

“And-” the Sheriff started to say something more to her when the deputy came up and interrupted his questioning. Deputy Pritchard leaned into him and spoke low and close to his ear. When he had finished speaking to him, the Sheriff said, “Excuse me, Renmar, I’ll be right back.” He left out the front door following the deputy.

As soon as he left, Renmar sent Hazel upstairs for something and then pulled Oliver close to her. They spoke in hushed, and hurried voices. Oliver puffed hard on his e-cigarette and squinted, taking in what Renmar was saying. Renmar’s eyes flitted about the room as if she was ensuring no one was looking. We locked eyes momentarily. Then her eyes darted from me, to Miss Vivee and back before she turned again to Oliver.

I turned to Miss Vivee. “What they got their heads together about?” I asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they’re trying to get their alibis together.”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Why who wouldn’t?” Miss Vivee said. “It’s a real crime scene around here. They roped off everything with that yellow tape, stuffed things into small plastic bags and took a boatload of pictures. Most excitement I’ve seen in forty years or more.”

The Sheriff came back in and Renmar pushed Oliver toward the back of the house. He hurried off, furtively glancing back over his shoulder. Renmar tried to control her sniffles. Patting her hair and licking her lips, it was quite noticeable that Renmar was trying to remain calm.

“I hate to tell you, Renmar,” the Sheriff was back, “but we’re going to have to take that bowl of bouillabaisse that Gemma was eating when she . . . Well, you know.”

“When she croaked,” Miss Vivee said in a voice, it seemed, as loud as her little frame could muster.

“Yes. Well,” the Sheriff said somewhat flustered.

“Kicked the bucket,” Miss Vivee offered.

“Mother,” Renmar said.

“Hah,” Miss Vivee said. “I could do this all night. I’ve got a million of them.” She yelled out, “Bite the dust. That’s another one,” she said laughing and elbowed me.

“Anyway,” the Sheriff raised his voice. “I’m going to need the whole pot as well.”

“It’s all gone,” Renmar said. And as soon as it came out of her mouth, Miss Vivee hit me on my thigh. I looked at her.

“That’s a lie,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “It’s a whole eighteen-quart stockpot full of it on the stove.”

“All gone?” The Sheriff hadn’t heard Miss Vivee but it seemed like he didn’t believe Renmar either. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Help yourself,” Renmar said and swept her arm in the direction of the kitchen. “I gave the last bowl to Gemma.” She set her lips firmly and locked eyes with the Sheriff.

He held her gaze momentarily and then headed off to the kitchen without saying a word. Renmar followed behind him.

“They’ll do an autopsy no doubt,” Miss Vivee said looking out into the distance. “But if they think that Renmar’s fish stew done Gemma Burke in they’ll soon learn that they’re barking up the wrong tree. I told the Sheriff that, too. He just smiled and nodded his head. Patronizing son-of-a-gun. The facts will prove me right. Wait and see.”

Miss Vivee got quiet and then took in a breath and shook her head. “Her hair was a mess,” she said, her voice a husky whisper. “Poor Gemma Burke. When they pulled her face up out the bowl it was just a mess. All wet around the edges from falling into the fish stew.” She crunched up her nose. “When I go,” she said with a nod of her head, her voice back to normal. “I