“Uh-oh,” I said involuntarily.
“I know. She might have something for Orly, and we all saw his and your grandmother’s snake-wrangling teamwork. They seemed to enjoy it.”
Truthfully, Orly’s, Vivienne’s, and, for the most part, Gram’s love lives were none of my business, and I typically wouldn’t be interested in any details or gossip, but between the murder and Teddy’s beating, I was intrigued. Though it felt a little high school-ish, maybe knowing more about who had the hots for who might tell me about who’d also been acting with violence.
“You think Orly has something for Vivienne, or Vivienne for him?” I asked.
“I don’t know if that was it. Not sure. They were arguing, and I’m sure I heard Norman’s name, that’s all I know. And then she seemed interested in your brother and in Norman, and seemed so upset when they didn’t respond. I’m sorry, Betts, I don’t know the details, but I know something was going on and I just can’t help but think . . .” Esther said, her words trailing off. No one wanted to accuse anyone of anything violent.
I needed to talk to Vivienne, or at least find out more about her. And about Esther, too, for that matter.
• • •
Predictably, Gram was no worse for the wear. In fact, since no one got hurt, the moments with the snake somehow infused her with an extra dose of adrenaline. There were plenty more catfish that had been caught and stored in coolers that hadn’t been upturned, and hadn’t been invaded by snakes—we checked. The two poets who’d claimed to have some experience with both campfires and catfish jumped in to take care of the rest of the fry as Gram supervised.
I helped, too, and lost track of Vivienne. Finally, I found a moment when I thought I could step away from the frying activities, and I was pleasantly surprised to see Jezzie and Cody sitting side-by-side on a couple camp chairs. As I approached, I thought I heard Jezzie say Norman’s name.
“Hi,” I said.
They both looked up. Neither of them was happy to see me, or maybe it was just that neither of them was plain happy.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Hey, Betts. We were just talking about Norman and who would have killed that poor man. I’m more and more distraught the more I think about it,” Jezzie said.
She was pale and looked very tired.
“I’m so sorry, Jezzie. This has to be hard on you.”
“It is. I didn’t know him all that well, but I sure liked what little I knew. He seemed like a sweet guy.”
I nodded.
Jezzie rubbed her knuckles together. “That morning—that morning before he was killed, he told me he’d made an important decision not to do something. He was a little upset, but mostly relieved. I was all about getting into my character so I only briefly asked for more details, but he could tell I was distracted so he didn’t tell me more. If only I knew more. I’ve been asking Cody here if he knew anything.”
I looked at Cody. He shook his head and shrugged at the same time.
“Did you tell Cliff about that?” I asked Jezzie.
“Of course, but I don’t think it did much good. I feel like I let him down.”
“You didn’t,” I said. “He and my brother Teddy were kind of friends, too.”
“Yeah, I know. Does he know anything?”
“No, not at the moment,” I said. Maybe the news hadn’t made it to Jezzie yet. Cody just looked at me with wide, unsure eyes. “Teddy was hurt, Jezzie. He was beaten up the night before Norman was killed.”