“I’m sorry, Trix. But, better you than me,” Dee Dee said.

After we finished breakfast, we returned to our separate bedrooms to get ready for the rest of the day. If we’d only known what was in store, we’d have pulled the covers over our heads and stayed in bed.

Within the hour, we were at the hospital receiving good news. Dora was awake and doing better than expected, with the possibility of being moved out of ICU later in the day. Nana insisted on staying, in case they moved her. We left her with instructions to call on her cell phone if she needed anything.

The minute we stepped outside, the sunshine proved we’d been blessed with another glorious day. The sun vied for a spot in a tropical island commercial. The azure blue sky was as clear as a crystal glass. A slight breeze tickled my skin. I relished the moment, aware the luscious breeze would be replaced with thick, sticky air later in the afternoon.

I conversed silently in prayer as I inserted the key into my temperamental Jeep’s ignition and gave it a swift turn. Happily rewarded with the hum of the engine, I exhaled a sigh of relief. Shortly down the road, I decided to go-for-broke and give the air conditioner a chance, too. Semi-cool air shot out of the vents.

Dee Dee’s elation was evident as she exclaimed, “Lo and behold, miracles never cease.”

We basked in our good luck as we headed back to the Historic Marietta Town Square where a short twenty-four hours ago we experienced such a horrible day. I intentionally parked a comfortable distance from the museum.

“Come on, Dee Dee,” I said as I grabbed my digital camera.

“I’m coming. Let me get my purse.”

“Hey, can I put my wallet in your purse so I won’t have to take mine?”

“Sure! There’s plenty of room.”

“You’ve got that right,” I murmured.

“Admit it, Trix. It’s come in handy more than once.” She smirked, knowing she was right.

The historic square bustled with early morning tourists of every age, not to mention size and shape. A young couple strolled down the sidewalk as they held hands. Kids darted around the other tourists like they were on an obstacle course. Numerous shops surrounded the square. The historic district provided something for every taste and interest.

After you’ve shopped till you’ve dropped it’s easy to find a variety of eateries to satisfy a healthy appetite. If you want candies, hand squeezed lemonade, or a variety of desserts – whatever you heart desires – you’ll find it on the square.

My tummy voted for a break as we passed the ice cream shop. “Look! Hand spun ice cream. You get to choose the flavors, and then they’ll mix them for you. Yumm, that sounds good. Want to go in and give it a try?”

We both decided on chocolate ice cream mixed with fresh strawberries and Kahlua flavoring. The next fifteen minutes was an experience of pure bliss.

After we satisfied our sweet tooth, we meandered around the square. We discovered a quaint little shop; chock full of antiques and dust.

“Look, everything’s half-price.” Dee Dee opened the door releasing a wave of musty air.

I’d browsed for a few minutes when I heard Dee Dee – achooooooooooo! Nobody can prolong a sneeze like Dee Dee. I headed toward the peculiar sound and literally bumped into her.

“Hey, Trix, look what I found!” Dee Dee held up a book so grimy I could hardly make out the title.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I took the book and read the title, “Capturing a Locomotive” by William Pittenger

“I think I’ll buy it and see what I can discover about the event. That is, unless you want to buy it for your research.”

“No. You go ahead. I can borrow it from you.”

She searched the other spines, her nose so close I thought she was going to kiss them. “Oh, look.” She grabbed another and pulled it out. “This one’s titled “The Marietta History Museum.” I’m going to get this one, too.”

“I’d like to read it. The museum has a rich history.”

Our purchases made, and our arms loaded down, we headed back outside into the sultry air.

Spotting a quaint little deli, we decided to stop for lunch. We chose a table where we could see the sidewalk outside while we ate a light salad. People-watching is a sport I’ve always enjoyed. As I surveyed a group of teenagers decked out with earrings, brow rings, and several other kinds of rings you could think of, my cell phone rang. Startled, I jumped off my chair like I’d received an electric shock. I answered quickly, thinking it might be Nana. “Hello!”

“Well, hello stranger! I thought you’d never call me. Oh, that’s right, I called you.” Harv guffawed, his passive aggressive comment rankling me.

“And how are you doing?” I met Dee Dee’s questioning look, mouthing “Harv.”

“Well, now that you asked, I’m not doing too good. We’re on a deadline here and I’m waiting on a first draft from you.”

I pictured him at his desk with his feet crossed on his desktop, sleeves rolled up, barking orders at poor Belinda, our receptionist.

“I’m trying. But I spent the night in a museum with a dead body. Then Nana’s friend Dora fell and broke her hip. Dora’s son is out of the country, so I feel responsible for both of them. Harv, truth be told, I’m frazzled.”

“I’m sure you are, Kiddo”--Harv’s pet name for me-- “I should be more sensitive, but I’ve got a magazine that’s losing subscribers.”

We spoke several minutes, or rather he talked and I listened. Before Harv said good-bye, he reminded me there was a story I needed to tackle. I wasn’t in any hurry to follow up on this lead – especially after Detective Bowerman warned me to keep my nose out of his business. However, the best intentions can be forgotten.

My phone rang immediately after I hung up.

“Trixie? This is Doc. I need your help. I’m in trouble!”

“What’s the matter?” My lunch churned in my stomach. Dee Dee’s recently waxed eyebrows struck a questioning arch.

“Detective Bowerman brought me in for questioning. He referred to me as a “person of interest.” Penny’s in a panic, and I’m not doing so well myself. I’m really worried.”

“Why? Have they found evidence linking you to the murder? They can’t rely on your fingerprints; they must be all over the museum.”

Dee Dee elbowed me and whispered, “What! What’s going on?”

“Shhh.” I mouthed, “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

“I’m afraid there’s more to it, Trixie. Listen, would you and Dee Dee meet me somewhere? I don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”

Dee Dee, patience not being one of her virtues, was about to pull my arm off. If curiosity could kill, she’d be dead.

“Plan on it and I’ll call you back if it’s not copasetic.” Dee Dee rolled her eyes at my use of the word copasetic. I rolled mine right back. “Where do you want to meet? We’re on the square close to an antique shop named Magnolia Books and Antiques.”

“There’s a café on the far corner called Tara’s. Can you meet me there in about twenty minutes?” Desperation laced his voice.

“Sure. We’ll see you in a little while.”

Trix, what did you get yourself into? Lord, help me. My hands shook and my palms were slick with perspiration. What did Doc expect me to do? And why was he in this predicament anyway? My taut shoulders violently quivered. The call must have shaken me more than I realized. An anxious voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey, girl. What are you so worked up about? Whatever’s going on with Doc, you just might have to—”

“You’re not going to believe this Dee Dee. Doc was taken in for questioning. He didn’t want to explain over the phone, so he asked us to meet him in about twenty minutes.”

“We promised bushy-eyed Bowerman we’d stay out of his way,” Dee Dee said.

“My job could depend on solving this case. Meeting someone for coffee isn’t the same as crossing police tape.” Despite my brave exterior, genuine concern ushered us out the door.