Lily Sprayberry Realtor Box Set Read online

  He pointed to the sticker on my back window. “Life Fitness and Spin Studio preferred parking sticker, and you always had a bag in your car back when we, you know. So, I just assumed.”

  I blushed. “Oh, I forgot about the sticker.”

  He busied himself by adjusting the police radio on his shirt collar. “I just wondered if you had any plans for this evening. I’m off in an hour and thought maybe we could grab dinner later.” He paused. “To, you know, go over any questions you might have about the case.”

  Had my ex just asked me out on a date? “I uh, I can’t. I’m sorry. I have plans. A date. Yeah, I have a date.” I’d just lied like a dog on a rug. I glanced down at my lap. I couldn’t make eye contact when I lied to someone, which was probably why I rarely did it. If Dylan remembered anything about me, he’d remember that. He would tease me about it all the time, how I’d never lie to my parents about why I got home late, or why I wasn’t where I said I’d be. He thought it was cute, my inability to be dishonest, and I thought I was a horrible person if I lied.

  He coughed, and I had to glance up at him. He knew. I’d been busted, but I didn’t fess up. I just went with it.

  His eyes sparkled, and I thought he was going to smile, but he went with it, too. “Oh, okay. We can talk about the case another time then.”

  “Yeah, uh…sure. Another time.”

  He turned to leave and then flipped back around. “I meant what I said though, Lilybit. Stay away from Jesse Pickett.”

  * * *

  “You told him what?” Belle laughed into her phone. “You haven’t had a date since he broke up with you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Friends taking you to sorority formals don’t count.”

  “They do so, and I’ve had other dates.”

  “Oh yeah? Name one.”

  My mind blanked.

  “Told you.”

  “I’ve been busy. I haven’t really had a chance to focus on dating.”

  “For seven years?”

  I bit my lip.

  “All you’ve ever wanted was Dylan, and he’s been back for almost a year now, and finally asks you out, and you turn him down with a lie? What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t really. I just kind of blurted it out.”

  “Well, next time stuff a sock in it.”

  “Don’t be salty with me.” I pulled up to my little green one-story bungalow with its covered front porch that always brought a smile to my face every time I saw it and shut off my car. I didn’t notice my side door was slightly ajar until after I closed and locked my car door. “Hey, let me call you back.”

  Belle continued to lay into me about lying to Dylan, but I disconnected our call. I was certain I’d shut and locked that door when I’d left that morning, but so much had happened I could have been wrong. I entered my kitchen with caution, holding my bag close to my chest, as if that would protect me somehow. Nothing seemed out of place, I didn’t smell gas or anything out of the ordinary. Maybe some over ripe oranges in the basket on the table, but nothing like gas or carbon monoxide. I relaxed thinking I’d totally over-reacted and simply forgot to lock my door and dropped my bag on the table when I noticed my cast iron skillet sitting next to it. I hadn’t left it there. I hadn’t even touched the thing in months. And lying in the skillet was a note that read, make sure that property don’t sell or else.

  I might have been flighty enough to leave my door unlocked, but I certainly hadn’t left myself a threatening note, so who did?

  Jesse?

  I called Dylan right away.

  I waited in my car down the street—at his insistence—until he arrived five minutes later. He told me to stay put—which I didn’t—and checked my entire house twice before giving me the all clear.

  “You never were a good listener, were you?”

  “You really can’t expect me to stay away from my own house in this kind of situation, can you?”

  He nodded. “Actually, I can.” He meandered to my stove and played with the knobs.

  “I really don’t like having people I barely know in my house without me.”

  He stopped, turned around and stared at me. “People you barely know? Are you talking about the intruder or me?”

  “Actually, both.”

  “So, I’m what, a stranger to you now?”

  I glanced down at my floor. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, actually, I don’t.” He lifted the note in the skillet by its corner and placed it in the small plastic baggie I’d given him. “But this isn’t the time to discuss it.” He held the baggie up and waved it my direction. “Care to tell me what this is about?”

  I grabbed two bottled waters from the ‘fridge and handed him one. “Let’s sit on the front porch. It’s got a great view of the sun setting. I’ll tell a story about some hidden money.”

  After I told him about the possible hidden money, Dylan rubbed his temples. “I don’t know whether to laugh or be angry.”

  “Laughing seems like the best option.”

  He agreed. “The people in this town? I swear, sometimes I think they’re crazy.”

  “I know. That’s why you left, remember?”

  His smile disappeared. “No, Lily. That’s not why I left.”

  I brushed the comment aside. We both knew I was right anyway. “So, what do you think?”

  “About the hidden money?”

  I nodded.

  “I think it’s pretty strong motive for murder.”

  “For who?”

  “The butler,” he said. “It’s obvious he did it. With a butcher’s knife. In the library.” His mouth did that twitching thing again.

  “It could be Sonny Waddell or Jesse, don’t you think?”

  “Seems to me Jesse’s got a lot more invested in the loss of the property than a neighbor.” He scratched his forehead. “But Sonny neglected to mention any of this when I interviewed him, so I’m going to have to talk to him again.” He flipped his hat in his hands. “Either way, I’ll find the person who did this, Lil. It’s what I’m trained to do.”

  I knew all about that training and a big part of me hated it. “Was it worth it?”

  His hands stilled. “What?”

  Dylan had big dreams of a football scholarship at the University of Georgia and then going pro for the NFL. Those dreams died when he blew out his right knee his last year of high school, my sophomore year. He still went to UGA, and we stayed together, but things ended my freshman year at Georgia when he decided to drop out of college and enter the Atlanta Police Academy.

  He wanted the big city life, and I wanted the security and familiarity of my small town.

  “Leaving. Was it worth it?” I didn’t make eye contact with him. Instead, I watched the sky fade from yellow to a golden orange as the sun slowly began to set behind the trees. “You said you’d never come back, and now here you are, our sheriff, by special election and all.”

  He twisted to face me. “Lil, look at me, please.”

  I wasn’t sure I could.

  “I want to talk to you about this, and once this case is solved, I will. It’s important to me, and I know it’s important to you. Can we just put it on hold for now? Please?”

  I finally conjured up the nerve to look him in the eye. “You should go. I have a date to get ready for.” I stood and walked back to the kitchen. Dylan followed.

  The tension between us filled the small room. Dylan felt it, too, and changed the subject. “I’ll make sure to have one of the guys keep a look out on your house for now, but if anything out of the ordinary happens, give me a call, okay?”

  I nodded and opened the side door for him.

  As I closed the door behind him he stopped it with his hand and said, “I never meant to hurt you, Little Bean.”

  The use of his private nickname for me nearly shattered my heart to pieces all over again.

  Chapter 3

  “Who do you think left the note?” Belle ask
ed.

  After Dylan left, I packed up a few things and dragged them to Belle’s place. My safe little bungalow suddenly felt stuffy and scary, and I knew I wouldn’t sleep if I stayed there alone overnight. A good night’s sleep and a healthy breakfast in the morning and I’d be back to one hundred percent again and back in my own home. Maybe part of the reason I’d left was because I didn’t want to be alone with my hurting heart, but I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself, or to Belle. She once told me denial was my shield, but I denied that then and still did.

  “The killer.” I stuffed a handful of popcorn into my mouth, the salty, buttery flavor attacking the feel-good sensors in my brain. “It can’t be anyone else.”

  She flung a kernel at me and hit me smack dab on the forehead. “And do you still think Jesse didn’t do it?”

  “After talking to him earlier and seeing that note in my cast iron skillet…” I tossed a few more kernels into my mouth. “…I’ve pretty much changed my mind.”

  She agreed.

  “He told me he went to Myrtle’s yesterday, too.”

  “Really? That’s weird.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe it’s me, but if I’d killed someone, the last thing I’d do is tell someone I’d gone there the day I killed the person.” She swallowed back half her glass of Coke. “Then again, I wouldn’t be in that situation in the first place.”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t.”

  “Because they’d never find the body.”

  “Exactly.”

  We both laughed.

  “You’re right though, that does seem a little odd, but a lot of times people don’t think about what they’re saying, and they just blurt stuff out.”

  “Kind of like you lying to Dylan about having a date?”

  “Can we discuss one topic at a time, please?”

  “Of course. Lying. Yes, let’s discuss lying. So, why did you lie to Dylan about having a date?”

  I pretended she hadn’t said anything about that and carried on with our original topic. “Anyway, that’s how they catch a lot of the criminals on TV.” I realized how silly that sounded when she rolled her eyes. “Maybe he just needs the money so bad he just said it without even realizing it?”

  “I think Millie’s probably right about him needing the money to keep his shop afloat.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  “He’s always trying those get rich quick schemes, so maybe he got taken or something?”

  “Maybe.” I tossed a piece of popcorn her direction. She opened her mouth and tried to catch it but missed. “I think tomorrow I’ll stop and check on the property and say hello to Sonny Waddell. Maybe ask him about the survey. See what he has to say.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “I appreciate that, but someone’s got to run our real estate business, right?”

  “I am an excellent office manager.”

  “Yes, you are. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  “You’d still sell a ton of homes since you’re the only true realtor in town. You just wouldn’t have any fun doing it.”

  “You’re one hundred percent correct.”

  “May I see your phone, please?”

  Suddenly territorial over my cellular device, I covered it on my lap with my hand. “For what?”

  She held out her hand. “I’m going to put nude pictures of myself on it. Goodness gracious, do you not trust me?”

  I held my phone out. “Of course, I trust you.” When she reached to grab it, I yanked it back. “But what do you plan to do with it?”

  In some freak speed move I didn’t think possible, she snatched it from me. “I’m putting Dylan’s contact info into your favorites. If something happens, at least this way you can just tap a button or two and call him instead of having to search through your phone for his number. You may not want to talk to him about your personal relationship, but I don’t want anything happening to my bestie, and he’s the county sheriff, so deal with it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” How could I argue with someone that concerned for my safety?

  * * *

  Before heading to the property, I made a quick stop at the county assessor’s office and picked up the property survey maps I’d ordered the day before. I didn’t take the time to review them before heading out to Sonny’s place.

  The old man wasn’t happy to see me. “I ain’t got nothing to say to you,” he said, and slammed the door in my face.

  “Mr. Waddell, if you’ll just give me a minute, I know you’ve got some concerns about the property lines, and I’d like to try and help you.”

  The door opened a crack and he looked fixedly at me. “How do you think you can help me?”

  “I don’t know exactly.” I waved the roll of maps in front of me. “But if you’d talk to me, maybe I can figure it out.”

  He held the door open, but from the look on his face it was obvious he wasn’t all that pleased. “Guess I might could do that.”

  I held up the rolled surveys. “I’d like you to show me where you believe the property lines should be.”

  He stared at the maps. “You know that ain’t gonna make no difference, right?”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I’d still like to know. If I’m going to sell Myrtle’s property, it’s important I do my due diligence to make sure I’ve covered any possible issues regarding the sale, and this is an issue. I’ll do what I can to make sure the property lines are correct, whether that’s in your favor or not.” Sure, I wanted to find out what happened between Myrtle and Sonny, but that wasn’t a lie. I needed to do right by my client and the purchaser of the property. My reputation depended on it.

  He took the maps from me, moved several piles of stacked newspapers off the oblong coffee table in front of the couch, and rolled the maps out onto the table. The first one was of Odell’s property, so he pushed that aside. I took it and rolled it back up. The second was of Myrtle’s.

  Sonny used his finger to trace a line down his property’s side of the map. “See this section right here?” His finger traveled from the back corner of Myrtle’s house and all the way down the narrow plot. “If you go about twenty-five feet from the property line, that’s where the original line is supposed to be.”

  “Do you have a copy of your original survey from when you purchased the property? Wouldn’t that solve the issue?”

  “I didn’t purchase the property. It’s been in my family since before the Civil War. Ain’t no easy way to prove it ‘cause of that.”

  When people settled in Georgia a lot of them just staked a claim on pieces of land and it became theirs. Sonny’s family probably did the same. “Is that how Myrtle’s family got their land, too?”

  “The Pickett’s been living here forever, too, but I don’t know if they was here ‘fore us. See, you ain’t asking anything we ain’t already tried to find the answers to.”

  “I understand, but I have to catch up. Why don’t you tell me when this property issue all started? Maybe that will help me.”

  He leaned back into the couch and ran his hand down his long gray beard. “Oh, I’d say maybe fifteen years ago. I was wanting to put up a fence for the missus. She had this inkling to get some goats, but those little boogers like to wander, so I figured I’d put us up a fence. Only when I got to doing it, Myrtle come out and tore me apart. Said I was building it on her property and she’d sue me if I didn’t stop.” He motioned for me to follow him outside, so I did. “I told her my property went past the other side of those River Birch trees, but she said it stopped on my side of them. I got the survey and it showed the line like she said.” He rubbed his beard again. “Don’t think it’s no coincidence Wilbur Redbecker worked for the county assessor’s office.”

  “How much of the land did you want to fence in?”

  “Few acres was all.”

  “Your land is wider than Myrtle’s, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but it’s the same length. I got about
double the acreage, minus the part she stole from me, of course.”

  “Before you wanted to install the fence, had there ever been any question about the property line?”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Never even discussed it.”

  I assumed Sonny knew the rumors about the money, but I preferred he mention it first. “Is there any reason Myrtle would want to keep that portion of land? Does it have some kind of special meaning or something?”

  “Old Boone Pickett said there’s money hidden somewhere either in the house or on the property, but he never said where. I guess Myrtle don’t want me getting hold of it.”

  “But if the property was yours in the first place, why would it even be relative to that old story?”

  “’Cause they think the property was theirs from the start, that’s why.”

  That made sense. “Sonny, I overheard you mention to Odell yesterday that you were at Myrtle’s last night. Would you mind telling me why?”

  His eyes darted to the ground. “I went to talk about her selling her land to one of those developers. I knew that was her plan. One of them come by my house the other day and tried to get me to sell my land to them, too. Said they’d give me top dollar. They want to put up some of those condominiums, they said. I ain’t selling my property to no builder, and I don’t want no condos next to my land.”

  I’d suddenly been squished into the space between a rock and a hard place. “Things are changing around here, Sonny. It’s called progress.”

  “Don’t mean I have to change with them.”

  “So, how did the conversation go?”

  He glanced down again. “Wasn’t good. Myrtle wasn’t never no sweetheart, that’s for sure. Said the same thing you said. Times are changing and all that. Said I needed to get over myself and change with them.”

  “Did you talk about the property line issue?”

  He nodded. “Said ain’t nothing nobody would do about it. What’s done was done, and I had to let it go. But I told her I wasn’t planning on doing that. Said I’d fight her for my share of the land ‘cause it was rightfully mine. Told her I’d die before I let her sell my land.”