Drop Dead Sexy(25)

Brandon frowned and shifted on his feet. “Um, not that I know of.”

“Seriously? You guys should know as well as I do that whenever there is a suspicious death the G-men are called in.”

“Ralph coulda called it in while I was on the way here.”

“Whatever. You can double-check on the way back to the crime scene.” I turned to Mama and Pease. “Can you guys hold down the fort with Mrs. Laughton? Her family should be back at noon for today’s viewing.”

“As a proud member of PAM, I’m happy to serve,” Pease replied with a grin.

I snorted. PAM stood for Professional Association of Mourners. It was an unofficial club that Allen had come up with for Pease’s group of silver-haired ladies who considered it a good time to hang out at the funeral home. It didn’t matter if they knew the deceased well or not. They still came and paid their respects as well as swiping some of the food that churches or family friends had provided. While it had started out as a joke, Pease’s group had embraced it so much they had T-shirts made with PAM on the front and their names on the back.

I laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. Brandon, let me grab my bag, and we’ll go.”





Randy Dickinson lived on five wooded acres on the outskirts of town. He had a beautiful cape cod with a wrap-around front porch. One side of his property met the banks of the Etowah River. As we made our way down the long drive, Brandon informed me that Randy was known to lodge a few complaints from time to time about people trespassing on his land to fish. I filed that comment away for future reference when it came to potential suspects.

When we pulled up in front of the house, I found Ralph Murphy, our local sheriff, and two of his deputies standing on the front porch waiting for us. Since I had called the GBI in the car, I hadn’t expected to see any agents yet.

As I started up the front walk, Ralph came to meet me. He was the epitome of the stereotype of a small-town sheriff—kinda like Jackie Gleason’s character in Smokey and the Bandit. Instead of thrusting out his hand, he pulled me into a bear hug. It was the kind of greeting you got when you lived in a town like Taylorsville, which was basically a modern-day Mayberry. “Morning, Olivia.”

“Morning, Ralph. What happened?”

After spitting out a stream of shit-colored tobacco juice, Ralph shifted his chaw to his left cheek. “Well, around nine this morning, Blondine Cook, Randy’s cleaning lady, arrived. Although she could see his car in the garage, the front door was locked. So, she used her key to get in. She went back to the bedroom to start cleaning, and she found him in the bed deader than a doornail. Gunshot to the chest.”

“Got any idea of what kind of weapon we’re looking for?”

“We were waiting on you to do measurements. But from the looks of the wound, it’s a relatively clean shot in close range. Clearly it’s not a shotgun. I’d guess a pistol. We haven’t moved him yet to see if the bullet got lodged or exited the body.”

I nodded. “Any idea how the suspect got in?”

“I had Frank and George checking the points of entrance and exit, and all doors and windows are locked up nice and tight.”

“Hmm, the ol’ locked room mystery rears its head.”

“Huh?” Ralph questioned, his bushy brows creasing.

“Oh, you know how in old detective stories there was always a room locked from the inside, so how could the murderer or thief gotten in? The craziest one was in Poe’s Murders in the Rue Morgue where he had an orangutan be the killer that got in through a window.” When Ralph continued to stare at me, I waved my hand dismissively. “Never mind.”

“It appears the security system was disarmed, too.”

“So we’re looking for somewhat of a professional.”

“It would appear so.”

Turning around, I peered at the gravel drive. “Any sign of footprints or tire treads?”

My question turned Ralph suddenly sheepish. “Oh yeah that.” He scratched the back of his neck. “To be honest with you, we really hadn’t thought of that yet.”

While I could have let him squirm a little, I decided to let him off the hook. “No problem. That’s probably something the GBI will want to look at.”

Ralph’s face appeared momentarily relieved that he hadn’t screwed up the investigation, but then it clouded over. “G-Men are coming?”

I nodded. “I made the call on the way over here. Thankfully, they had some agents in the area, and they were going to dispatch them here.”

Ralph spit out another stream of tobacco. “Well, I ain’t really a fan of the G-Men, but I guess it’s good that we have someone more knowledgeable on the case. Hell, it’s been twenty years since I’ve been involved in a murder investigation.”

“At least you’ve been involved in an investigation first-hand. I’ve only witnessed them as an observer when I was in college.”

“Well, let’s don’t let the G-Men show us up too much. I’ll get my boys busy photographing the scene and dusting for fingerprints.”

“Sounds good. Now let me get a look inside.”

Ralph nodded and held the front door open for me. Before I stepped into the house, I traded my heels for tennis shoes and then put on the paper booties to cover them. Once I walked inside, my senses went on high alert as I took in the particulars of Randy’s house. Even the smallest detail could mean something big to the case. The living area was gorgeous with floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the woods. If you looked closely, you could see the river in the distance.