by Tonya Kappes
“I went to check out Cottonwood Acres Rehabilitation.” He sat next to me, like right next to me. It was something he’d always done.
Even when Mama or Daddy would pick him up or ride somewhere together, Poppa sat right in the middle of the front seat, right next to the driver. Now, as a ghost, he did it, but when Finn was in the car, Poppa was good at sitting in the backseat tormenting Finn by blowing on his neck or tweaking his ear lobe. Anything to make Finn uncomfortable.
“I know you’re thinking Rich Moss did it, but you’ve got to think why? What was his motive?” Poppa had started to investigate a suspect before I’d even cleared all the scenes.
“I want to go to her house and check out any emails from her computer, her phone records or even a calendar.” I gripped the wheel when my stomach growled as we passed Ben’s Diner on Main Street, realizing I’d yet to have any food and was starving. “I’d like to question Rick about what I’d overheard him say to Avon as well as what her parents told me about her neighborly dispute with Lita Brumfield.”
“I’ve known old Lita all my life and she’s always been a lot of bark with no bite. She’s a simple woman. There’s no way on God’s green earth that Lita shot that girl.” Poppa wasn’t going to hear of it.
This was one way he did his investigations. On the principal of someone’s morals, not the evidence.
“You know how I feel about evidence. It can be skewed to make it look like someone else did it. Maybe the killer knew about the fight between Lita and Avon. It’d be easy to pin it on her,” Poppa said.
“Like you say, no stone unturned.” The Wagoneer rattled when I slowed it down to take a right off Main Street onto Hickory Hill Road. “Rich is the most likely suspect. What if she overheard a conversation with him at the rehab center with Woody where he wasn’t getting the cuff links?”
“That doesn’t make sense either.” Poppa slapped his leg. “When I went to the rehab center, there was word that Avon had been killed and that’s why she wasn’t at work.”
“Really?” I took the street slow since I’d turned up into the neighborhood and a lot of children were already out and about since their summer break had started.
“Yep. They said that they thought it was weird how she took such good care of Woody Moss and he ended up dying anyways. Plus, they also mentioned Wally Lamb and how he was taking the news of her death.”
“What does he have to do with it?” I pulled up in front of the orange brick ranch and glanced around the neighborhood before I turned off the Jeep.
“I guess you’re just going to have to ask him.” Poppa gave a shrug. “But I’ll keep my ears peeled.”
“You just float around and see what you hear around town too.” I smiled at him. “It’s good to have a ghost deputy.” I smiled and shoved the gearshift into park as soon as he ghosted away.
I jerked around with my fists up ready to punch someone out when someone opened my driver’s door. That someone being Finn.
“Whoa.” He put his hands up to shield being knocked in the face.
“Sorry about that.” I sighed and reached over the seat to grab my bag. “I was lost in my thoughts.”
“I noticed you were talking to yourself again.” His deep voice was smooth and soothing. It was one of the things I loved about him. It made me feel safe and he knew it. Was this his ploy?
“Listen, we have to have a very serious talk.” I got out of the Jeep and tried to contain the pitter-patter of my heart as soon as I smelled his cologne.
“I agree.” He took a few steps back to give me space to step away from the Jeep. “My mom would like to meet you for lunch or afternoon tea today. I think it’s a great idea and I can cover what we need to do with the investigation for an hour or so.”
“I want to talk to you, not your mom.” I headed towards the front door of Avon’s house and slid a glance over to Lita’s, where she was standing on her front porch with her hands planted on her hips, her eyes narrowed. “I’m not doing anything other than investigating this murder. So if she wants to discuss what happened last night, she’s going to have to wait.”
“They are leaving town in a day.” His legs took extra-long steps to keep up with my pace. “You’re mad.”
“I’m working.” I nodded over at Lita before I let myself into Avon’s house.
“There’s something wrong with you.” Finn put a hand on my arm once we were inside of Avon’s house.
“This isn’t appropriate.” I jerked my arm away, the bag swung violently in my grips. “We are on a crime scene. Our personal life comes second. That was always the rule. When did you decide the rules we set were no longer in play?”
“Fine.” He rolled his shoulder back, parted his legs, and took out his notebook from his pocket. “Sheriff, Avon Meyers, a thirty-two-year-old single woman, who was a physical therapist employed by Cottonwood Acres Rehabilitation Center on North Second Street. She’s had a several run-ins with her neighbor Lita Brumfield.”
“Speaking of these run-ins, why haven’t you told me about them?” I asked, getting ready to put him in his place. “Apparently, there’s been a lot.”
“I have no idea.” A scowl drew across his face. “Are you accusing me of something that I have no idea I’m battling? Or are you taking out on me what happened last night because I thought we talked about this earlier.”
“According to Avon’s mama, she said that Avon and Lita had this ongoing feud over anything as simple as a tree branch over the fence line. She said the law had been called several times. I’d not heard anything about it. I’m betting that you’ve been on all the calls.” I stopped to give him an opportunity to respond.
“Thank God you aren’t a betting woman, Sheriff, because you’re dead wrong.” He looked down at his notes. “I guess you’ll need to look into those claims.” He began to rattle off the rest of his notes about what he’d uncovered about Avon’s personal life that I’d asked him to do earlier.
There wasn’t anything in there alarming She was single, worked every day, and looked to lead a simple life as a Cottonwood citizen.
We both looked back towards the door where someone had knocked. There was a shadow of a person standing there with their hands up around their eyes like they were trying to see in.
Finn opened the door. There stood Lita Brumfield.
“Mrs. Brumfield,” I greeted her and walked over so she didn’t come in. “I’m Sheriff Lowry.”
“I know who you are, and I figured she’d called you about the apple tree.” Mrs. Brumfield lifted her chin and drew her eyes down her nose to get a good look at me. “I figured I’d come on over and tell my side of the story so you don’t have to make a trip across the lawn.”
I stepped outside on the porch and shut the door behind me.
“I was going to stop by and see you.” I took out my notebook. “Why don’t you give me your account of last night’s events.”
“It’s no secret I wanted to buy this house for my boy and his family. I’m getting up` in age and I don’t want to go to no nursing home. I want to stay right here on Hickory Hill in my house. So when Avon’s daddy overbid me on the sale of the house, me on limited income and all, I must say that I got a little bitter.” The wrinkles around her eyes deepened. “I’ve made sure that I kept a close eye on her and the laws of this town. I know that she loved her apple tree. But I warned her that if it ever got along my fence line, I’d have it cut back. That’s exactly what I did. I didn’t go back on my word and I told her near as much a week ago when I saw it was already dangling over into my yard.”
“To my understanding, she wanted to pick the apples first. So you couldn’t wait until she did that?” I asked, wondering why a little old woman would be so cruel.
“I told her a week ago. She should’ve kept her eyes on it because those apples started falling a couple of days ago into my yard, sending the squirrels into a frenzy,”
she spat, her hands trembling at her side. “Now, by the law, I had every right to get those branches cut back.”
“I understand that and yes you do, but by civility, we sometimes let things slip. Even a few apples.” I couldn’t help but think that Lita Brumfield was that neighbor that everyone didn’t like, and she used the law to her advantage rather than doing the morally right thing of turning the other cheek when it really wasn’t life or death.
“If you let a few apples go here and there, she’d take the whole garden.” Lita tried to give me the analogy of give an inch take a mile kind of thing, but she really fell short.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” I couldn’t help but notice her shaking hands.
“Yes, you may.” She nodded.
“Why are your hands shaking? Do I make you nervous? Is there something you need to tell me?” I asked.
“No, you don’t make me nervous.” She adjusted her posture to stand as tall as she could. “I’m just fine.”
“Can you tell me where you were this morning?” I asked.
“I was sittin’ in my house watching the news. How’s that any of your business?” she asked. “If you’re going to give me a lecture on morality and being a good neighbor, you can save it. I’m planning on going to that town council meeting tomorrow night and bringing up this neighbor, as well as their apple tree issues.”
“I’m assuming the town gossip hasn’t caught up with you yet.” I knew Jolee kept her up on the latest. Jolee loved talking about how all the women who received the Meals On Wheels loved to get her take on the town news while them men just took the food and shut the door in her face.
“I don’t gossip. It’s a sin. Preacher Bing says so.” She swiveled her face over my shoulder when Finn walked out.
“Then you don’t know that Avon Meyers’s body was found in Rock Fence Park.” My words drained the color of her face.
Finn noticed it too and gave her an arm to lean on.
“Mrs. Brumfield,” I said her name to get her to blink her eyes. “Did you know Avon was murdered?”
“Oh my stars.” She lifted her wrinkly hand to her head and shook as she tried to scratch her eyebrow. Her jaw dropped open. “I had no idea. She was full of life when she beat on my back door after she’d noticed I’d had the limbs cut back.” Her voice was softer and held a twinge of disbelief.
“For someone who didn’t like her neighbor too well, you seemed to be a little shocked,” I said.
“Sheriff, I’m sorry but when anyone dies, it’s a tragedy, especially if she was murdered.” There was a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there when she was previously talking about Avon. “Are you saying that you think I had anything to do with it?”
“Did you?” I asked. “I mean, you didn’t want her moving in and since she has, you’ve spent a lot of time making sure she’d kept with the laws.”
“I think you’d know the full story if you’d showed up when I called the law, but apparently, Cottonwood Sheriff’s Department shuts down exactly at five or six p.m. and you let the Clay’s Ferry’s Sheriff’s Department take over, which seems to me that you don’t want to keep the hours it takes to be sheriff in Cottonwood and maybe that needs to be brought up tomorrow night.”
“Ma’am, we are just trying to get to the bottom of what might’ve happened to Ms. Meyers.” Finn stepped between me and Lita. “Do you drive?”
“No, sir.” She gave me one last hard look before she shifted her gaze to Finn. “My son takes me to places I need to go. Or that sweet Jolee Fischer takes me places.”
“What’s your son’s name?” I asked.
“Herb,” she said. “Why you ask?”
“I’m just doing my job.” Because I’m going to check Herb out, but she didn’t need to know that. “Do you think you can come down to the department and give a statement about the turmoil between you and Ms. Meyer or anything you’ve might’ve seen as a neighbor?”
He had a way about his interrogation that made women putty in his hands.
“I’ll call him as soon as I get home and let you know.” She nodded.
“Here you go.” Finn took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here’s our number, though I know you have it,” he grinned and she gave a slight smile, “if you can remember anything strange or odd, please give me a call.”
She pinched a look my way with a straight face, taking the card from Finn.
“Does that sound good?” He asked, bringing her focus back to him.
“It sure will do.” She turned to walk down the porch, grabbing the railing with a shaky hand.
We stood there and watched her walk down the front walk leading to the sidewalk before we spoke a word.
“What was that?” Finn muttered.
“It was real sheriff’s work.” I stood firm.
“You’re the one who always yells about being nice and kind. That people in Cottonwood will remember during election time.” He huffed.
“That’s what you want. You want people to remember just how sweet you are and how I’m the bad sheriff when election time comes so you can take my job.” I bit back the real possibility that Finn only wanted my job and not me.
“What are you talking about?” His eyes rounded like this was the first time he’d really honestly thought about the tension this could have on our relationship. “This religion thing has really messed you up.”
“I’m not talking about his right here.” I headed back into the house, he followed me. “Why do we even care about the religion thing when you want to be a sheriff?”
“Because it’s important to know where we stand on it as a couple. What does being a sheriff have to do with it?” He asked, urgency in his voice.
“We both can’t be sheriff in Cottonwood.” I informed him, proving that I was on to his little scheme.
“Are you kidding me?” He asked with a snarky scowl, lifting his hand, running it through his hair as he paced back and forth in Avon Meyers’s front room.
Like the rest of her house, it was nice and tidy. Instead of fussing with Finn, I headed into the kitchen to look around. He continued to talk while I looked through the cabinets and refrigerator. I noticed a laptop open on her kitchen table. When I sat down, the computer screen popped awake.
“We need to take this with us.” I closed the laptop and put it on the edge of the table along with my bag so I wouldn’t forget it.
I headed over to the refrigerator. Finn was still going through the cabinets.
“I don’t want to be sheriff of Cottonwood. I’m more than happy being the deputy, but I can be a sheriff somewhere else. You can be sheriff here. But for right now,” he paused, stopping next to the open refrigerator door where I had stuck my head in. He touched me, I turned around. Looking down, he ran a hand down each one of my arms and clasped our fingers. “I’m perfectly happy with us. I’m more than happy being next to you while you take the lead. I’m proud of you. I don’t have some big ego that needs to be the man of the relationship.”
There was a chill from his touch, or maybe it was the cold draft of the refrigerator door still open, but I still liked how he was holding my hands.
“So, you aren’t trying to. . .” I gulped, stopping myself from the silly accusations I’d made in my head and realized they were just in my head. “I’m sorry. When I heard you say something about not wanting to be a deputy all your career and then Avon’s parents told me about all the calls Lita had made to the sheriff’s department, my mind went wild with all sorts of ideas about you wanting my job.”
“No. I don’t want your job. But you do have to think about what I said about not being a deputy all my life.” He pulled me close to him. “Would you want to be a deputy all your life?” There was a silent pause because he knew I really didn’t have to answer that question to know the truth. “On a side note, we do need to think
about what Mrs. Brumfield said about adding night hours to our department, even if the town council doesn’t approve Deputy Lee for a full-time position.”
I was ashamed of myself and he was right. We did need to serve the citizens of Cottonwood a little better with longer hours.
“We will be sure to bring it up tomorrow night. It still doesn’t leave the fact that we’ve got a murder on our hands to solve,” I reminded him and looked back into the frig. “Nor does Mrs. Brumfield seem any less a suspect.”
“I never said she wasn’t a suspect. Even with shaking hands.” He took the words right out of my mouth.
“I wonder what’s wrong with her? I’ll see Jolee at Euchre tonight. I’ll be sure to question her.” I took out my notepad, flipping it open. I made a few notes about Avon’s house been tidy and the fact her food choices were all healthy. From the looks of her body, she appeared to be in good physical health. “It also doesn’t mean that Lita didn’t hire someone to kill her.”
“She really made it clear she didn’t want to go to a nursing home and if something is wrong with her health, then she could be really desperate for this house to come on the market.” There was an insinuated that if Avon’s house did go back up for sale, Lita’d snatch it at any cost.
But murder?
I tugged the walkie talkie strapped onto my shirt’s shoulder and pushed the button.
“Betty?” I called for her. It was the best and fastest way I could communicate with her.
“Yes, Kenni,” she answered back.
“I need you to pull background checks on Lita Brumfield and Herb Brumfield.”
“Lita and Herb Brumfield. Got it.” The beep, meaning she’d clicked off, echoed into Avon’s house. I reached down and unzipped my bag, plucking out a couple of pairs of gloves. “Let’s look for clues around here.”
“Sounds good.” Finn snapped the gloves in place. “You go that way and I’ll go this way. Unless, you have a better idea.”
He caught himself giving me an order when it should’ve been the other way around.
“Stop it. We work well together. I think I can let you lead on this one.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
