CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Savannah is an old city by American standards, founded in 1733 by English settlers led by General James Oglethorpe. This lovely town sits on the banks of the Savannah River and is famous for its twenty-one historic squares, small oases of peace in a bustling city. Meredith met me at a Star-bucks at the corner of Bull and East Broughton Streets about halfway between Johnson and Wright Squares.
Meredith had called me the afternoon before, about thirty minutes after I hung up from talking with Doc. She said she was leaving on a trip with her family in a couple of days, but if I could come to Savannah, she’d meet me the next afternoon. We agreed on Starbucks at three o’clock in the afternoon. I called J.D. to let her know where I was going.
I’d driven up from Longboat Key, up Interstates 75, 4, and 95. It’s about a seven-hour drive, a little more if you count the stop for a Big Mac. I checked into a hotel out on the interstate and drove into the city for our meeting. Savannah was more humid than Longboat Key, and I had the air-conditioning on the Explorer cranked as high as it would go.
I wasn’t too sure about drinking hot coffee on a day like this one, but iced coffee made me irritable. I think it was the combination of caffeine and my distaste for cold coffee. Some things just need to be drunk hot. I ordered a small coffee and sat at a table that gave me a sight line to the door.
I recognized Meredith as soon as she walked in. I’d seen her picture in the newspapers I’d found on the Internet, but they didn’t do her justice. She was a tall blonde, with shoulder-length hair, a trim figure, and a face that was still showing grief. She was wearing a pink blouse, white mid-thigh shorts, and white sandals. Her only jewelry was her wedding ring, a simple gold band.
I stood and introduced myself, asked if I could get her a coffee. She declined in a soft voice carrying the accents of the South. I started to explain what I was trying to do and she interrupted me. “Chaz explained it to me. You’re an old friend trying to help us. I appreciate that.”
“I know you talked to the police. I’ve seen the statement you gave. I’m hoping there is something that you inadvertently left out, something that will give us a lead.”
“I’m willing to do anything I can to help. Whoever killed Jim ruined my life.”
“Chaz told me that you and Jim met in Laos.”
“Macon, actually. During the orientation before we went over.”
“Love at first sight?”
She smiled. “Not really. We became buddies and then sort of drifted into something more. It seemed so gradual and I wasn’t sure it would survive Laos.”
“Why was that?”
“Oh, you know. Two people with raging hormones isolated in a foreign culture. Things happen and then when you get back to your real life you start having second thoughts.”
“Did that happen? Did you have second thoughts?”
“No. I didn’t and I don’t think Jim did either.”
“Chaz said you both wanted to get married before you graduated.”
“Yes, but that was because we couldn’t live together until we got married. And we desperately wanted to move in with each other.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Our moms. They’re kind of old South and wouldn’t have understood. Neither one of us wanted to disappoint our mothers.”
“I found your engagement announcement in the Atlanta paper. Short engagement.”
“Very short.”
“Any reason?”
“We were planning to get married in the fall, but I got pregnant. We didn’t want to embarrass our moms, so we announced the engagement and rushed the wedding.”
“Your moms again.”
“Yeah,” she said, ruefully. “They were college kids during the free love years of the seventies, but I don’t think they ever took to it. Or at least if they did, they didn’t want their children to know about it.”
“Your baby?”
“He’s doing fine. I’m due in January. Had an ultrasound yesterday. It’s definitely a boy. James Ronald Desmond, Junior.”
“Meredith, can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Jim? Or you?”
“No. I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure that one out. There’s no one.”
“Nobody at the university?”
“No. Jim got along with everybody.”
“How about the group you went to Laos with?”
“No. We were pretty tight. Everybody got along. There was about an even number of girls and boys, and before we came home, almost everybody had paired off.”
“No jealously? No fighting over the women?”
“No. Well, there was one problem, but Jim solved it and that was the end of it.”
“Tell me about that one.”
“There was a Laotian who came down from Vientiane, the capital, three or four times while we were there. He wasn’t much older than us, but he was some sort of government minister. Probably a low-level bureaucrat, but the locals treated him with a great deal of respect. He and Jim got into it once.”
“What happened?”
“The guy started hitting on me. He spoke English pretty well, and I think he liked my blonde hair. After the third or fourth visit, he grabbed me and tried to kiss me. Jim hit him pretty hard. Knocked him down. There were a lot of the locals watching.”
“Did he say anything to you and Jim? Any threats?”
“He screamed something in Laotian that we didn’t understand and left. We never saw him again, but a few days later some men came to the village where we were working and closed us down. We had to get the embassy involved before we were able to get back to work.”
“Do you know the Laotian’s name?”
“No. It was one of the tongue twisters that so many of the Laotians have for names. Lots of syllables. I never could keep them all straight.”
“Do you remember an Asian man attending your wedding?”
“No. There were no Asian guests.”
“An Asian man came to the outside bar that night and wanted a drink. The bartender wouldn’t serve him because of your private party. That apparently didn’t sit too well with the Asian guy.”
“I wasn’t aware of that. The wedding was perfect.”
“Do you have pictures of the wedding?”
“Sure. A video and still pictures.”
“May I see them?”
“I’ll have to send them to you. I have all the pictures and video on my computer. I can e-mail them to you.”
I gave her my e-mail address, said goodbye, and went to the River-walk for a cold beer.