19. Hattie

Not only do I make my way to the bar where Neelie is entertaining the man with a target on his back in the shape of my number one suspect, but I manage to snag the empty stool on the other side of the good doctor—or not so good doctor as it just might be.

"Hattie?" Neelie looks as if she's about to pass out. And judging by that skintight hot pink number she has cutting off her circulation, I'm shocked she hasn't passed out already.

She is definitely not thrilled to see me.

I'm not so thrilled to see her either. Although, I don't mind seeing my suspect—just not here with my sister.

The sight of these two together sends a ripple of unease through me, considering the suspicions swirling around Dr. Draper—not to mention the fact the slime ball is married.

And why am I the only one around here who seems to care about that little matrimonial detail?

Neelie seems oblivious to the potential danger before her, matrimonial or otherwise.

"Hello, Neelie—Dr. Draper." I offer an amicable smile.

"Fancy meeting you here." Neelie manages to mask her annoyance with a polite smile. "Erol, this is my big sister, Hattie. She runs the country club. Hattie, this is Dr. Erol Draper. He's a dentist out in Pelican Bay."

"Oh, really?" I perk up. "My boyfriend lives out that way. I'll have to tell him to stop by someday—get his teeth cleaned. Although, he's a homicide detective. He doesn't do much smiling."

Dr. Erol Draper gives a hearty guffaw and I can't help but think there's something innately likable about him. However, the way his tan dress shirt is unbuttoned to his chest and that pinkie ring he's wearing, encrusted with diamonds, puts me off a bit. I don't know why. My father has been known to wear a pinkie ring now and again. Usually when my mother makes him.

"It's nice to meet you, Hattie," he says. "I was just stopping by to grab a quick drink and ran into this pretty little thing."

That pretty little thing gives a big toothy grin at the backhanded compliment. Not many women appreciate being likened to a thing these days, with the exception of my sister, of course. This sister in particular.

"Nice to meet you, too," I say as the bartender lands a beer stein in front of the two of them and I request a seltzer water.

"So you run the country club?" Dr. Draper looks amused and somewhat concerned by this revelation.

"No, actually, that would be my boss, Peyton Blakey. I'm just the event planner."

"Just the event planner?" Neelie balks. "Erol, she's in charge of everything that happens down at the place, with the exception of the unfortunate mishap that happened a few nights back." She purses her hot pink lips my way. This is Hattie we're talking about. She's seen about as many corpses as the morgue has this past year. Face it, she's bad luck, and this is the universe's way of letting us know we should steer clear unless we want to end up on the wrong side of the soil ourselves.

I take a moment to scowl at her.

I am not bad luck.

I just so happen to have a little of it when it comes to spotting the dead in the wild.

"It's true," I tell him. "I plan all of the parties, the galas, the soirees, and I'm even throwing a humdinger of a Fourth of July bash in just a few nights. You should come out. We have a prime spot to view the fireworks sans all the crowds."

"I wouldn't miss it." He pats his hand over my sister's as he says it and I can't help but frown.

Looks like big sis didn't care for that,he thinks to himself as he pulls his hand back.

"So Hattie"—Neelie starts—"what is the sheriff's department saying about what happened the other night? Have they caught whoever did this to poor Jane?"

"No." I shake my head. "And I don't think they have any leads either." My seltzer arrives and I curl my hand around the cool glass. "So how did you come to know Jane?" I ask the good doctor. As much as I wish Neelie weren't here, I'm glad she's greased the wheels for this interrogation. "She was quite a figure in town."

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before answering. "Jane was—well, she was my accountant for a time. A very proficient one at that." Too proficient, but that's why I paid her the big bucks, I suppose. "I hired her not too long ago."

I nod, pretending to be satisfied with his answer, but my mind is racing.

Why would he be reluctant to admit a professional relationship with Jane? The fact he deemed her too proficient probably means he owed more in taxes than he cared to know. Nora comes to mind, and suddenly back taxes seem to be a running theme.

Lord knows I've heard my father complain of Jane being too proficient, more than once, and he certainly used Jane as his accountant right up until her death.

"Oh, who cares how he knew her?" Neelie snips. "The poor woman is gone. We should change the subject." She gushes with a sugarcoated smile at Dr. Draper before shooting me the stink eye.

Go on, Hattie, shoo.She practically strains her brain with the thought. I can't believe Hattie is not only crashing my date, she's gobbling up all my precious time with him. This was my chance to get to know him better. She's going to pay for this, she seethes to herself. Hey? Maybe I should spill some of Hattie's deep, dark secrets... or worse.

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of Neelie spilling my deep, dark secrets. For starters, she doesn't know about any of them. And to be honest, there's just the one—and it's the fact I can pry into her mind and learn all about her deep, dark secrets.

So take that, Neelie.

I twirl my seltzer around as I try to figure out how to continue to probe Dr. Draper with questions, but I'm momentarily stumped no thanks to my sister and her newfound need for revenge.

Neelie clears her throat, and here we go.

"Hattie"—she leans my way and winces as if suddenly distracted—"wow, those earrings you're wearing are drop-dead gorgeous," she says, gesturing toward the emerald beauties dangling delicately from my ears. "They really bring out your eyes. Did Killion buy those for you?"

"Actually," I pinch my earlobe, "a friend gave them to me."

"That's some friend." Dr. Draper laughs. "I'm no expert, but they look pricey. "Indeed, they are quite stunning. Emeralds, if I'm not mistaken? A classic choice, always in vogue and very elegant." I'd tell her they remind me of something my grandmother used to wear, but I'd best not offend her. I get the feeling she's not too crazy about me sitting with her sister to begin with.

He's not wrong. And come to think of it, these earrings look like something my grandmother used to wear, too. So he's not wrong on both counts.

"Yes, they are emeralds," I say. "I've always had a bit of a soft spot for them." I scoot in toward him a notch. "Dr. Draper, the other night, did you notice anything strange about Jane? I wondered what would make her wander off on her own so far from the party." Never mind that I was there, too.

He leans back and stares off in the nebulous distance. "You know, I did see Jane Jordan in quite a heated argument that night. In fact, it wasn't all that long before—well, her unfortunate demise was discovered." He points toward the bar with a look of calculated concern. "I saw Jane having a spat with two different women. The first was Missy Livingston. She's that woo-woo queen that's running class over at the club now. And then there was an older gal—dark hair, real battle-ax look about her. I believe I heard Jane say her name—Dora, I think."

"Nora," I correct with a complacent nod and he snaps his fingers in my direction.

"That's the one," he says.

"Do you have any idea what those arguments were about?" I ask, hopeful that he'll come up with a nugget or two.

He tips his head and casts a glance at the ceiling. "I did hear something about how soon people will know exactly who you are and who you used to be. Those were the words that Jane said to the younger one, Missy."

I inch back. Wait a minute… Didn't Missy say that Jane said something similar to Dr. Draper?

I believe Missy said, that she heard Jane say soon the whole world will know the real you.

No, wait. That was Chevy who heard it.

Interesting, nevertheless. Sounds like a common theme.

"And how about with Nora?" I ask. "Did you pick up on anything there?"

"Oh yeah." He gives a throaty laugh. "There was some name-calling. The word witch was tossed around, although I don't know who said it."

It was most likely Jane, and I hate to say justified.

"But they split ways and that was that," he says. "There's nothing more I can think of. But if I do—" He pauses a moment to glance behind me as a ruckus breaks out.

I turn around and gasp as I see both Peggy and Clarabelle standing on top of the table. Each of them has a dinner roll in their hands and there are at least a half a dozen dogs circling the table, vying for a bite.

Peyton looks as if she's about to pass out, while both Duke and Killion are doing their best to help those two feisty grannies back to planet Earth without anyone breaking a hip.

Boy, when I said do whatever it takes, they certainly took that to heart.

"I'm sorry, I'd better get going," I say, jumping off the stool. "Nice meeting you, Dr. Draper. Neelie"—I slice a glance her way—"we'll talk."

I do my best to thread my way through the bustling crowd here on the patio and bump right into a waitress holding a pasta platter brimming with red sauce and clamshells.

The platter wiggles and jiggles until eventually the waitress loses her grip on it.

"Timber," she calls out as that platter lands splat onto my chest.

"Gah!" I call out as she swats me with a cloth napkin a few times. I'm not sure if she's trying to clean me off or punish me for causing the debacle to begin with. Either way, she mutters something rife with expletives before taking off and vowing to come back. "Oh, good grief," I say, picking up a stack of napkins from an empty cart nearby and rubbing the red sauce into my dress like an idiot.

There he is, a woman's voice resonates and I look up to see a petite redhead about my mother's age, lots of frown lines, crow's feet, and a look in her eye that could lay flat a trucker a mile away. Cheating louse, she seethes to herself. I knew he was up to his old tricks again.

I follow her gaze to the bar and, low and behold, it's just Neelie and Dr. Draper sitting there.

Dr. Draper is the cheating louse!

That means this woman is his wife.

Double GAH!

I hope he gets everything he deserves. And my legal team and I will make sure of it. Her expression softens a notch. She's gone from irate to crestfallen. That is, if I live long enough to juice him for all he's worth. I can't believe I kept taking him back time and time again. And now my body has to pay the price for my emotional instability. And he gets to walk away clean.

What? What does she mean live long enough?

Is she dying?

From what?

I bet he gave her some nasty super bug that he contracted who knows what by how many different women.

Oh gosh, and now he's going to poison my sister's body as well.

The petite redhead takes a deep breath before storming out the side exit, and I turn back toward the bar where that dirty diseased rat has his hand on my sister's thigh.

"Oh no, you don't." I stomp my way in that direction just as the waitress comes out with another bowl of pasta with red sauce and clams, and without thinking I take it from her and promptly land it in Dr. Erol Draper's lap.

He screams.

Nellie screams.

Half the population on the patio screams and I think Killion just shouted the word freeze.

"I'm so sorry," I tell the man. "It looks as if you'll have to go home and change." I grab my sister's hand and pluck her out of her seat. "You're coming with me."

We don't get three feet before she yanks herself free.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?" Neelie screeches over the general chaos breaking out.

"I can ask you the same thing!"

We watch as Dr. Draper does a disappearing act, and Neelie belts out a hard groan.

"You stay away from me," she says, poking her finger into my chest before regretting the decision once she sees the red sauce. "You just make everything worse. You're a walking disaster and I want nothing to do with you!"

She stalks off and Killion quickly takes her place as he returns his weapon to his holster.

"You certainly make everything interesting," he says. "Why do I get the feeling you had those women on your payroll so you could chat with my next suspect?"

A sly smile creeps up my lips. "Has anyone told you you're a heck of a detective?"

"I won't be for long if you keep solving my cases for me." He glances down at my mess of a dress. "How about we get you cleaned up? And then you can tell me everything you gleaned, Detective Holiday."