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A Garland of Bones

Page 12

by Carolyn Haines


  “Gators are slower in the winter,” I said, hoping to give us both confidence in a fact I wasn’t certain was true.

  “They only have six-inch legs, but they can run sixty miles an hour for a short distance,” Cece said. “We’re doomed!”

  I grabbed her hand and tugged. “Run! Just shut up and run!”

  “I’m running!” she called out as she put everything she had into making for the dock.

  Somehow we managed to push through the unfriendly terrain without falling—or getting eaten by a gator. When we finally got to firm ground, I stopped and swung the light behind us. Nothing. Not even eyes reflected back at us.

  “Was that really an alligator? Maybe it was a bird.” Cece gave a nervous laugh. “I’m going to feel like such a dolt if I let a bird chase me up the riverbank.”

  “Don’t know. Not going back to find out.” I started toward the dock where people were still milling about.

  “Wait! What if it was where Kathleen crawled out? What if that was her trying to get our attention to help her?”

  “I don’t believe Kathleen would hiss and bark.” I wasn’t going to let Cece make me regret my hasty retreat to civilization.

  “We have to go back.”

  I turned to face her. “No, I’m not. Not without a gun.” I didn’t know if I could shoot an alligator. After all, the gator was just living its life. It wouldn’t be like shooting a criminal, someone who deserved a bullet. “Kathleen isn’t in that area, Cece. You know it and I know it. It’s crazy to risk getting ourselves hurt.” The truth was, we had searched our area very thoroughly. Other than the sliding marks in the mud and grass, there had been nothing that would indicate anything came out of the water and up onto the bank. “We’ll tell the police officers what we saw. Tomorrow, in the daylight, they can do a more thorough search.”

  “If she’s along the shore, she’ll likely freeze to death before daybreak,” Cece said.

  It was an ugly reality. One I had to accept, too. “Okay. Okay, let’s get a guy with a gun to go with us.”

  Ten minutes later we were headed back to the Land of Alligators with Jerry Goode. He was about as pleased as we were to go clambering through backwater, mud, and slime with the possibility of meeting an alligator face-to-face. But he had a Q-Beam light and an automatic pistol. He was better equipped than we were.

  We made it to the river’s edge without encountering anything—alive or dead. Jerry studied the marks in the mud and pulled out his phone to take photos. “You could have done this and shown them to me and I would have told you someone pulled a boat from the bank into the river. Strange place for a boat to be left, but it’s clear the boat had been resting here for a while. See how the grass is crushed and dying?”

  “Can you tell what kind of boat?” I asked.

  “I’d say something like a canoe or small aluminum fishing boat, but I can’t be certain until I take some molds of these tracks and do a comparison. That looks like some footprints, too.” He pointed out something we’d overlooked with our weaker flashlights. He lifted his foot and the mud gave a loud, sucking noise that was slightly embarrassing. “Next time, though, just take photos.”

  Great. The man was pointing out the obvious and making me feel even more a fool because he was correct. Cece and I had panicked at the thought of an alligator slithering up on us. We could have taken photographs—if we’d been thinking instead of panicking.

  “They dragged a boat into the river?” I asked, focusing on the more important elements.

  “Looks that way to me,” Jerry said. “Good work on finding this, and I can see why you thought it might be an alligator.” I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but I knew he was grinning at us. In a friendly way.

  “We did overreact,” Cece said. “But we also came back and brought you.”

  “I don’t see any indication of anyone swimming to shore here.” He moved along the water’s edge more quickly than Cece and I could navigate it. “I’d say this is unrelated to the disappearance of Ms. Beesley, but I’ll check it out. Likely some boaters pulled up here to take a break or repair something. You two should go back to the dock. I’ll look around here a little more, just to be on the safe side.”

  Those were sweet words to my ears. “You sure you don’t need us?”

  “Go ahead. Tell the police chief that we’ll need a forensic team down here first thing in the morning. I’ll mark the area for them. But you might want to take a look at this before you go.” He shone the light about thirty yards away where there was a slight rise in the bank. Two golden eyes stared back at us from a hidey-hole. “Now there’s your alligator. But he’s not interested in you or me,” he said.

  “See you at the dock!” I was already moving toward safety.

  “You take care now,” Jerry said. And to his credit, he didn’t laugh.

  When we were almost to the dock, I stopped. I thought I’d wait for the lawman to come out of the swamps. I didn’t trust that alligator. “Cece, would you see if you can find Tinkie and maybe check on Coleman for me, please? I have a question to ask Jerry.”

  “Will do. I’m going to catch a ride back to the B and B. Someone needs to be with Darla, and I reek of river mud. I smell like something dead.”

  We were both pretty odiferous. “Good plan. Can you find a ride?”

  “I don’t want Oscar to call the limo for me because I’m filthy, but maybe I can hitch a ride in the back of a pickup truck.”

  That was illegal, but it would be wasted breath to try convincing Cece of that. She did exactly as she pleased almost all the time. “You go right ahead. I’ll poke around this area a little more.” I was on firm dry land, and if I saw a gator or anything else I didn’t like, I could make tracks.

  Cece headed to the docks, where a bank of lights suddenly came on, illuminating the search area. Boats on the river signaled back and forth, but there seemed to be no sign of Kathleen.

  For a moment, I was alone, and I could take a deep breath and acknowledge that someone I knew most likely had died. It was an upsetting fact. As long as I could hide in activity and busyness, I didn’t have to think about loss. Now, though, I had time to confront what may have happened. One eyewitness had claimed to see someone—presumably Kathleen—knock Clarissa over the side of the boat. I didn’t buy that. Kathleen was a passive person, but Clarissa was the take-action kind. I could believe it had happened the other way around. Kathleen had hinted at revenge against Clarissa by spilling her secrets. In truth, both women had threatened to do that. Was that enough to provoke murder?

  The crack of a stick came from behind me, and I whipped around to find a large black woman with a huge bosom standing only inches away. She was at least six feet tall, with gray “church” hair, a frumpy dress, sensible shoes—and a gun! She brandished the gun like a sheriff in a saloon brawl. I had a suspicion who this might be, but I just didn’t want to believe it.

  “Whatchu lookin’ at?” she asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Where did you come from?” As big and awkward as she was, I should have heard her come up.

  “Does it matter? I got things to say to you.”

  That sounded distinctly ominous. And very much like Jitty. “You don’t even know me. What could you have to tell me?”

  She waved the gun. “I got the power of the Lordt on my side and a little help from my friend right chere.”

  I knew the figure standing in front of me. It was Madea, the Tyler Perry character. I knew he filmed in the South, but I didn’t believe he was in Columbus. Mr. Perry was not in a swampy part of the river looking for a woman who’d fallen off a ship. And he would not be talking to me. But Jitty would. I realized it didn’t matter why Jitty was here as Madea—I could use her help. Madea was hell on wheels when it came to cheaters!

  “I need to turn you lose on a whole bunch of people in this town,” I said.

  She shook the gun. “Say heller to my peacemaker! This can clear up a lot of issues. And just so you know, ha
nging around this town, I see what’s goin’ on and I’m about to violate my parole!”

  I loved every inch of her. “I need your wisdom.”

  “Yeah, you do. Women might be able to fake orgasms, but men can fake whole relationships. That’s the problem in a nutshell. Ever’body fakin’ somethin’.”

  I wanted to hug her, but she started striding around and her bosoms were bouncing so ferociously that I didn’t risk getting too close. “Can you help me?” I asked.

  “This is what I learned in all these years on this earth. If someone wants to walk out of your life, let them go. Deliver that message, please.”

  That was sound advice, but not particularly helpful. “Jitty, get rid of those big ta-tas before you put my eye out.” She was jumping around and I feared for the safety of my vision.

  She whipped a knife out of the folds of her dress. “I will shank you, fool! Back away!” she said. “Just back away.”

  I couldn’t help it. I had to laugh. I loved Madea, and in this terrible moment in time, I so needed a good laugh. “Jitty, cut it out.”

  “You know I only go to church for two reasons, weddings and funerals. Which one we gonna have today?”

  Even though I didn’t want to, I laughed. “Stop it, Jitty. Folks will think I’m out here in the swamp laughing about a drowned woman. They’ll put me in an institution.”

  “When you go off in a dangerous swamp looking for people, remember this. Stop editing your pictures on that ridiculous Facebook. What if you go missing? How you expect us to find you if you look like Beyoncé on Facebook and like Linda Blair playing Regan in real life?”

  “Please stop!” I had to control myself because Jitty was going to get me in a world of hurt. “Do you know where Kathleen is?”

  Madea slowly started to fade, and in her place was a beautiful woman with dark curls and a wistful expression. “I don’t know where she is,” Jitty said. “And if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Has she crossed over?” I pressed. I was genuinely worried about Kathleen, and the idea of her stuck somewhere on the riverbank, dying of hypothermia—thanks for that image, Cece—was more than I could bear thinking about.

  Jitty shook her head. “Not sayin’.”

  “Would you tell me if you could?” I was curious if some of this was Jitty’s obstinacy or if the rules were that rigid in the Great Beyond.

  “It is what it is, Sarah Booth. No amount of askin’ and whinin’ is going to change anything.”

  “So what prompted your appearance as Madea?”

  “Your chin was draggin’ the ground, and any minute you were gonna step on it. I had to make you laugh.”

  And she had done that. “I have to get up to the docks. I’m concerned about Coleman, too. He went in that river to save Clarissa. I need to find him and make sure he isn’t hurt.”

  “Warm that man up, Sarah Booth. You know how to do it, don’t you?” Slowly she began to return to her Madea form and her body was doing things that might make me go blind if I kept looking.

  “Stop!”

  “You lock those legs around your man and you hang on like you a cowgirl! Hallelujer! Ride that bronco!”

  With the jinglejangle of some spurs, Jitty disappeared. I heaved a sigh of relief. Sometimes she just wore me out.

  I trudged back to the dock. There was no sign of Kathleen from any of the other searchers. Cece texted me that she had caught a ride back to the B and B. She’d checked on Coleman, who said he was fine and would meet me soon. There was nothing else we could do in the dark. Tomorrow, we’d volunteer to search more.

  Good ole Rex was there waiting to whisk us back to the B and B. I had to leave my clothes in the trunk and wrap up in a blanket before I was allowed in the car, which I actually found reasonable. I stank. Oscar, Tinkie, Millie, Harold, and Jaytee were pretty glum as we loaded into the limo. This was not going to be a lot of fun with Darla.

  16

  The evening at the B and B was a sad affair. While Darla insisted on making a late supper for us, no one really had an appetite to appreciate her efforts. But working in the kitchen kept her hands busy and thoughts of Kathleen in the background. Worry for her friend was clear on her face.

  Tinkie signaled me out of the parlor and onto a side porch. “Do you think Kathleen is dead?” she asked. “I didn’t want to ask in front of the others. I don’t want to crush their hope.”

  “She probably is.” I told her about the boat tracks in the mud. “But Jerry said it was a boat going into the water, not coming back to shore. As far as I know, that’s the only thing anyone found. If she’s still in the water, hypothermia will probably get her.” I didn’t mention the alligator that I’d seen. Tinkie didn’t need those gruesome images. “Did Darla say if Kathleen was a strong swimmer?”

  Tinkie sat on the balustrade and slumped. “I heard her tell the deputies that Kathleen could swim, but that she wasn’t a great swimmer.” She inhaled sharply. “Clarissa managed to stay afloat until Coleman got her out. Why couldn’t it have been Kathleen instead?”

  I felt the same way. “Speaking of Coleman, he texted and said he was on the way from the hospital.” I was eager to see him. “Maybe he has new information for us.”

  Tinkie shivered, whether from the cold or her own thoughts, I didn’t know. We returned inside. Everyone had huddled in the parlor, where Darla had a roaring fire going. She did her best to play the perfect hostess, but her red-rimmed eyes and sniffles let us all know she was in distress over her friend.

  “Why don’t I make a pitcher of martinis?” I suggested. I, too, needed something to do to keep my hands and mind busy. Waiting was the hardest work on the planet. I took a vote on gin or vodka and got the Grey Goose from the bar. In no time I was serving the drinks. “Shaken, not stirred,” I said, imitating James Bond as best I could. I got a few weak smiles. Everyone was physically and emotionally exhausted.

  We sipped our drinks as the fire crackled. When the front door opened, I was up like a shot and hurled myself into Coleman’s arms. “Thank goodness you’re okay.” He gave me a kiss that left no doubt how glad he was to see me.

  When I stepped back, he accepted the drink Cece offered. Coleman was dressed in something far more preppy than he normally wore. But he was dry and warm and smelled great. He’d also had a shower. Something I needed to take care of. “Any word on Kathleen?”

  He swallowed and shook his head. “No sign of her. They’re still searching.” He gave Darla his full attention. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Clarissa?” Darla asked.

  “As far as I know, she was checked out and released.”

  “Did she say what happened?” I asked.

  “No.” He sounded exhausted.

  Cece, Tinkie, and Oscar decided to make another round of martinis, but I was done and worried about Coleman. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” I turned to our hostess. “If we can help in any way or if you hear anything at all, don’t hesitate to wake us up.”

  She blinked back tears and nodded. “Thank you.”

  I gave Coleman a kiss and whispered for him to come up when he was ready. I had to wash the river smell out of my hair and skin. The minute I stepped under the hot spray I felt better. I’d been so tense my shoulders were rigid, but the pounding of the water helped a lot. I braced against the shower wall and gave in to the pleasure.

  From somewhere in the bedroom I heard the sound of bells jingling. “Oh, no.” Jitty was back. She was determined to get me in trouble in this town. I shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and headed into the bedroom to have it out with her. As much I enjoyed her forays into drama, comedy, and aggravation, now wasn’t the time.

  I opened the bedroom door and said, “You have to stop this.”

  Coleman, wearing nothing but a grin and a necklace of jingle bells, said, “I don’t think I want to stop.”

  I was taken aback, but I hid it behind a daring smile. “Then you’ll just have to get what you deserve.” I went to him, s
till wet, and put my arms around his neck for a kiss. The towel hit the floor and I hit the light switch as he picked me up and lifted me onto the bed.

  * * *

  The next morning I stretched and snuggled against Coleman’s warm body as the events of the evening replayed in my mind. I was a lucky woman. And Coleman was a lucky man. By the grace of persistence, we’d found each other.

  I was about to drift back to sleep when I heard the infernal noise. Tap, tap, tap. A pause. Tap, tap, tap. Tinkie was at it again. I knew ignoring her wouldn’t work. There was only one solution. I got up, grabbed a robe, and went to open the door.

  She was waiting with a tray of coffee and some news. “Let’s go out on your balcony,” she said.

  “Coleman is still asleep.”

  “Then put on some clothes and let’s go outside on the terrace.”

  Tinkie was worse than a dog with a bone. There would be no shaking her. Best to do as she asked and be done with it. I slipped back into the bedroom, found jeans, socks, a T-shirt, and a heavy sweater. The morning was brisk, and I knew before it was over I’d be down at the river, hoping for good news about Kathleen.

  When I found Tinkie on the terrace, she had coffee, condiments, and a basket of homemade biscuits with Darla’s dewberry jam. I discovered I was starving, and I matched Tinkie bite for bite.

  “You should slow up,” she told me. “I’m eating for two. You’re not!”

  “I’m twice as tall as you are and need double the calories.” It was a stupid rationalization, and we both laughed.

  “How is Darla?” I asked.

  “She’s cleaning her cabinets.”

  That pretty much said it. No one cleaned cabinets unless they were desperate for something to do. “Maybe we should check with Tulla and Bricey.”

  Tinkie nodded. “We don’t really have any leads, except the mystery woman who hired Colton to murder the car.”

  “We could go down to the river.”

  Tinkie brightened. “I’d kind of rather spend time with an alligator than those two homewreckers.”

 

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