Sequestered with the Murderers Dr. Tanner (best sales books of all time txt) đź“–
- Author: Dr. Tanner
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“What is it that you . . . ?”
“Uh, I’ve said enough. Good night, Vett.”
His stance told me he wasn’t budging. I opened my Jeep door and got in. Armie then closed the door, then waved goodbye. I waved back, then watched him walk to his car, my stomach beginning to churn. I knew that there was declining societal prejudice toward people in interracial relationships in today’s time, but not so in Lanta’s younger years. What was she hiding? She slept with Ms. Lacecap’s brother and other Black men. What the hell? What kind of life was Lanta living back then?
I was beginning to see an explosive reason why Jackson wanted me to solve Duffy’s murder quickly.
I started my Jeep and drove across the street to the hotel.
CHAPTER 8
I was glad to see Sty at the check-in desk. After checking in and she and I chitchatting about my sooner than expected return, I asked, “Sty, do you have a few minutes tomorrow morning, say around 8:15 am. There is some information I want to give you regarding my reason for being here.”
“Sure. I’ll be here at 7:00 am. I am filling in for someone,” she said hesitantly. “Just come to the desk. I can take a break at that time.”
“It’s nothing serious,” I assured her. I felt strongly that I needed to tell her the truth, but I didn’t want to do it until I was leaving. If the media knew I was here and what I was doing, they would be knocking on my hotel room door, or waiting for me in the lobby, or following me. So it was best that I waited until I checked out.
As soon as I entered the room, I turned on the TV, hoping the sound would put a stop to the feeling of impending doom that was coming on me. It didn’t. I sat at the desk, turned on the light, and then pulled my black and white composition notebook from my bag to write down my notes. Dimma, who was so technology savvy, was pushing me to buy a laptop just like the one she owned. I knew I would have to do it soon or get left behind technology-wise.
I opened my notebook and began writing:
Tuesday- 9:00 am meet with Nancy
10:00 am drive to Envyton County
12:00 noon or thereabout meet with Marjorie Brown
1:00 pm or thereabout meet with Rebbie Shields
2:00 pm or thereabout meet with Joe McClain
3:00 pm or thereabout meet with Holt Pruitt, Jr.
4:00 pm or thereabout drive home
I then pulled my phone from my bag. Neither Marjorie nor Rebbie had called me back. I placed another call to each and left the same message as I had left before. I pulled the passenger list from my bag and found Joe McClain’s telephone number. I quickly dialed it, and a man’s voice answered on the second ring.
“Hello, is this Joe McClain?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Joe, this is Vett Brayborn. I hope you remember me. We were on the Tennessee trip together.”
“Sure, I remember you. You’re that investigator that helped Lemmonee. How can I help you?”
“I want to know if you would have time to meet with me tomorrow. Jackson Stevens, the president of Brightness, has hired me to look into Duffy’s murder. I have some questions surrounding Duffy and the men’s restroom.”
“I don’t know what else to tell. I’ve told the police everything I know.”
“I do understand. Hearing what you saw direct from you may help me tremendously. Would you have time around 2:00 pm tomorrow? I promise not to take up much of your time.”
“Well, I guess that is okay.”
“Thank you, Joe. I really appreciate it. Would you give me your address and directions?”
I had his address from the passenger list, but I didn’t know if he would make a fuss with Jackson for giving it to me. After he had given me all the information I needed, and I had thanked him again for agreeing to meet with me, I said coyly, “Holt Pruitt, Jr. went with you to look for Duffy Friday night. I want to talk to him, too. Are you and he close friends?”
“He’s my best friend. If you want, I’ll ask him to join us tomorrow. I think Tuesdays are slow days for both of us.”
“That would be wonderful, just wonderful. Thank you, Joe.”
“You’re welcome. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good evening, Joe.”
I made a few more notes in my notebook, then called Gam. An hour later, I took a nice long hot shower, then dressed in my pajamas. I took my notebook in hand, pulled back the balcony door curtains, and moved the desk chair to the balcony door. I intended to enjoy the night sky before reviewing my notes. Instead, I began critiquing them and adding more notes. When I finally stopped writing and looked to the sky, the moon and the twinkling night sky quieted me down. Gam and I frequently, in warm weather, sat out on our back porch enjoying the night sky activity before going to bed.
At ten pm, I closed the curtains and got into bed. The next thing I knew, it was 6:00 am. The three long phone rings were my wake-up call from the front desk. The TV was still on broadcasting the morning news. I jumped out of bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, put on my sweats and sneakers, and put the room key in my pants pocket. I then walked down the exit stairs to the small exercise room. I was determined to walk for at least thirty minutes on the treadmill. That delicious meal from yesterday still lay heavy on my stomach.
There was no one in the exercise room. I climbed on one of the treadmills and began walking as I turned the grade level up to three. The music piping through the speakers in the ceiling was barely audible, but I was able to make
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