Wilmington, NC 10 - Much Ado About Murder

photograph to Melanie. She scrutinized it. “But why did someone carve a legend on the back of the stone where it would never be seen? They couldn’t have anticipated an earthquake in the capitol and that the stone would be taken down.”
    “Just so,” Binkie answered. “You’re a clever girl, Melanie. Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer. No one does.”
    I said, “I’m guessing the craftsmen who installed the stones in the monument thought nothing of a stone with an inscription on the rear side as well. After all, our stone had been in storage for thirty-seven years before it was mounted.”

4

    On Saturday morning Aunt Ruby and Binkie returned to our house to babysit. Jon and I strolled over to Front Street to meet Melanie at Dalton Montjoy’s house.
    A pickup truck was parked in Dalton’s driveway. Evidently one of the tenants was moving out. Good news. Boxes had been loaded onto the open bed of the truck, while several remained in the grass, along with miscellaneous items of small furniture. Melanie waited for us on the front porch. She and Dalton sat at the corner of the porch at a round outdoor table.
    She got up when she saw us. “Hey, shug ,” she greeted. “Hey, Jon.” She moved closer. “If it’s OK with you, Dalton will just sit out here while you look around inside. He’s having a bad day.”
    “Of course,” Jon said, and walked over to shake hands with Dalton.
    Just then a beautiful, pale blonde girl hurried out of the front door, her arms filled with boxes which she promptly dumped onto the porch floor the moment she spotted Melanie. “Melanie Wilkes! I was hoping to run into you after Dalton told me you were handling his sale.”
    My sister knows everyone in Wilmington. And everyone knows her. High or low. Young or old. She’s sold houses to half the town. “Taylor, sweetie, how nice to see you.” She made kissy sounds in the air at Taylor’s cheek. “This is my sister, Ashley.”
    Taylor surprised me by giving me a hug too. “You two! You’re Scarlett Barrett’s sisters . . .”
    “Half-sister,” I corrected but she didn’t hear.
    “. . . How lucky are you? Imagine being sister to a famous Broadway star. Oh, I just love Scarlett. I’ve followed her career. And now she’s here, living among us.”
    Then she turned back to Melanie. “Oh, Melanie, we’re all so thrilled about Cam’s big contest and the movie he’ll be producing. And he’s announced he’ll be using local talent. How absolutely fab. There are so many of us looking for a break. All we can get are bit parts when something like Iron Man 3 is being filmed here. But a big part in a big show . . . well, I just want to hug that man. But I’ll hug you instead.”
    And she gave Melanie a bracing hug. Melanie peered at me over her shoulder, eyebrows arched, as if to say, “What’s with this girl?”
    Jon joined us. “We’d better go inside.”
    He opened the glass storm door for us just as a young man came bursting out. “You bitch! You stole it! Give it back!”
    His rage was directed at Taylor. I recognized him as the man I’d seen out on the upper rear porch yesterday, singing and playing an unfamiliar tune on his guitar.
    Taylor reared back, eyes wide. “What the hell are you talking about, Simon? I didn’t steal anything.”
    “My guitar! My guitar is missing. And I just know you took it.” He balled up his hands into fists and strode over to the porch railing. “It’s on that truck. In one of those boxes.” With a leap he was down the stairs, racing to the truck. Lithe and limber, he jumped up onto the back of the truck easily and began tearing boxes open. But only the large boxes. The small boxes he kicked aside. Frantically, he tossed Taylor’s belongings down into the driveway.
    Taylor ran to the truck. Her friend, the man who’d been loading the truck, backed up, staring. “Hey, what are you doing, man?”
    “It’s in here somewhere. That guitar is valuable. It belonged to my grandfather. You know what it means to me.” He glared down at Taylor. “But you’ve had your sights set on it ever since you moved in here. I had to keep my door locked at all times or else I’d find you in my room, trying to play it with your pathetic attempts at music.” He gave her a look of utter disgust.
    Taylor climbed up into the back of the truck and grabbed at his hands. But they were flying. “Stop throwing my clothes on the ground, you idiot! I don’t have your guitar. You’ve gone