DIGGIN' UP THE DIRT

by Tonya Kappes

  I had some doubt in how well I really did know Finn and I didn’t like having doubt in my head.

  “Kenni bug,” Poppa’s tone had turned a bit condescending.

  “What?” I spat, “You mean to tell me that all of the sudden you’re going to take his side and stick up for him?’

  “Not what I was going to say, but you’ve got to take care of you. You can’t be worrying about him. You need to make sure your head is in the game. You need to be in tip top shape for interviewing Reagan, going back to talk to Lita about her boy. Go to the rehab to visit Shelby with a smile on your face and act as if you don’t know a thing about Finn with the Clay’s Ferry commissioner.”

  “How can you say that?” I asked, relieved that we had just driven over the Cottonwood town line.

  “Because you have to be elected again. Everything you do will always be under a microscope. You can’t worry about what he’s out there doing.” I both loved and hated when Poppa made sense and brought me back to reality.

  I let what he said hang in the air between us as we continued our trip back into town. As we headed south on Main Street, I knew that I wanted to go the rehab center to check on Shelby and Lita Brumfield before I continued with the investigation I’d planned for today.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Good morning,” Shelby greeted me when I peeled the emergency room curtain back.

  She was sitting up in the bed with Clay by her side. Both of them had big black circles under their eyes.

  “Have you talked to Finley?” she asked with a worried mom look on her face. “He left here last night when Clay got here, but we haven’t heard from him this morning.”

  “It’s still early,” Clay said. “I told him to get some sleep because he mentioned you gave him the day off.”

  “I’m sure he’s sleeping through his phone calls if you’ve called or texted him.” It took everything I had in me to hold my tongue.

  If I even let one little thing slip out, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to reel it back in. Until I talked to him and heard what on Earth he had to say about being there, which couldn’t be about any of the cases because he’d have to go through me to go investigate outside of county lines, then I was going to try to just keep my mouth shut.

  “I think they are going to let me go home.” She let out a long deep sigh. “Not that they’ve not taken good care of me. They have. I just want to go home for any procedure if anything needs to happen.”

  “I told you not to stress out. We will cross that bridge when we come to it.” Clay continued to assure her to just rest.

  “Can I get you anything before I go?” I asked.

  “You’re already leaving?” Shelby asked. “I mean, you just got here.”

  “Dear, she’s got a town to take care of.” Clay looked at me with understanding in his eyes.

  “I’ve got to go see another patient, but I’ll pop my head back in before I leave and see if you need anything by then.” I would’ve offered to bring them a coffee, but I wasn’t sure what she could and couldn’t eat.

  Since there was no real healthcare plan in her immediate future, I’d go check on Lita and see what was going on with her.

  I stopped at the circular nurse’s station in the middle of the emergency room. There were a few nurses gathered around each other with different patient charts like they were giving instructions. It was shortly after eight thirty a.m., right at their shift change. A bad time for me to be asking questions.

  My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket.

  “Good morning, Max,” I answered and walked through the emergency double doors for a little more privacy.

  “Good morning. I wanted to let you know first thing that I’ve got the autopsy report completed if you want to come by and take a look at the body while I go over it before I release her to the family.” He was so good at pointing things out and explaining everything so I could completely understand and make an iron clad case.

  “That’s great. Do you have time now?” I asked. “I’m at Cottonwood Acres so I can pop on over.”

  “Sounds good,” he confirmed. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Instead of going in to say goodbye to Shelby or even try to check on Lita, I’d decided to head on over to get the autopsy report. Besides, I’d be coming back at lunch to meet with Reagan, maybe there would be updates with both of them by then.

  I didn’t understand why it took so long for tests to be scheduled and ran when there was an emergency. It was one of life’s greatest mysteries when it came to healthcare. But in this instance, it was to my favor.

  Poppa was waiting in the Wagoneer when I got back in.

  “That place gives me the hivvies.” His shoulders shimmied.

  “If this place gives them to you, then get ready because we are going to see Max.” I couldn’t help but smile and play the conversation we were about to have when we pulled up in front of the Cottonwood Funeral Home.

  It was one of those times where Poppa loved to reminisce. In this case, I wasn’t sure if he forgot he always told me this story, or if he just wanted to keep up the fond memory of how our deceased family members were always laid out in the front window of the front room of the two-story red brick home that’d been remodeled into a funeral home.

  “You see that window right there.” He pointed to the large window in the front of the house.

  “Mmmhmmm.” I ho-hummed on autopilot like I always did when he told this one.

  “That’s where all the Sims laid corpse.” He nodded with pride. “You know that your mama will lay corpse there one day and I hope you do too.”

  I nodded.

  “How did your visit with Shelby go?” Poppa asked.

  “She was waiting on the test to be done or doctor to come in or something.” I really didn’t know. “When she asked me if I’d talked to Finn, I had to get out of there in fear I’d tell her something that wasn’t so nice about him. Like his betrayal.”

  “Maybe Max can shed some new insight on the case so we can leverage that at the town council meeting.” Poppa had his eye on the prize of getting the additions of another deputy to the department. “Especially if Finn is going to take that open sheriff’s job in Clay’s Ferry. You’re gonna need a deputy.”

  “Rub salt in the wound, Poppa.” I got out of the Jeep and jammed the keys in my pocket before I grabbed my bag from the back.

  “What if I don’t get elected and move to Clay’s Ferry with Finn,” I teased and walked up the front steps of the funeral home.

  “Don’t be talking out of your head now.” He ghosted into the funeral home.

  Stepping inside, goosebumps crawled up my legs, across my torso, and down my arms, leaving me with the feeling I’d just stepped over someone’s grave. It was the same weird feeling I’d always had when I came here.

  Since Max was the county coroner and owner of the only funeral home in Cottonwood, he’d made the coroner’s office in the basement where he’d had some state grant money and the latest equipment needed to do both jobs. It appeared as though no bodies were in the rooms for layouts, which was probably how Max had gotten Avon Meyer’s autopsy finished so quickly.

  “Hi, do, Kenni.” Tina Bower, owner of Tiny Tina’s salon, was standing in the doorway of the elevator with her hair tugged up in a top-knot. “You going down?”

  “I am.” I stepped inside as she held the door for me. “What on Earth are you doing here so early?”

  “I’ve got me a client to fix up.” Her words left a yucky taste in my mouth. “Avon Meyers’s mama called me a little bit ago. Said her daughter was going to be laid to rest in a couple of days and wanted me to do her hair and makeup.” She patted the bag hanging off her shoulder.

  “I hope you don’t use the same brushes and stuff on me.” I shivered at the thought.

  “I clean them.
” She snorted with a giggle, pushing the down button when the doors closed. “Besides, I guess this means you found the killer?”

  “Not yet, but I’m here to release her body, so don’t you lay any of your acrylic fingernails on her until I sign off on those papers,” I warned her right as the doors opened back up.

  The cold temperature of the basement curled around us. Max kept it this cold since it was literally the morgue and bodies needed to be preserved even though he had those pull-out drawers the corpse laid on in the big refrigerator.

  “Two of my favorite ladies,” Max joked and stood over Avon. He had on his white lab coat and scribbled something on a paper attached to the clipboard in his hands. “Carey Meyers just called and told me you’d be here shortly, that you’d just stopped by to get Avon’s dress for her layout.”

  Tina opened the big bag and pulled out a long flowery dress that was perfect for a beautiful summer day. The sad thought that Avon wore that dress while she was so alive and now it was going to send her out to her death entered my mind.

  “I’ll get the dress ready while you two do your business.” Tina also pulled out a pair of scissors and headed into Max’s office to get started on Avon’s clothes being used to get her ready for the layout.

  Tiny once explained to me how bodies stiffened up too fast to really dress them for funeral lay outs, so they had to cut their clothes to make them look like they fit.

  Max turned after Tina shut the door between the morgue and his office.

  “She was shot at close range from the back with a Ruger SP101.” Max showed me the paperwork with the body outline on it. He pointed to the points of access. “The killer kept it simple with no hollow points or straight lead. It was a shoot copper jacketed .38’s. Which makes me think the killer might be a woman.”

  “Because the gun with lighter grain bullets will kick back less and heavier grain bullets like a .158 will result in heavier felt recoil, making it not hurt as much?” I asked to prove his point and glanced at Avon’s body on the metal table.

  “Yeah. Plus, the Ruger SP101 fits in the palm of a woman’s hand perfectly.” He put one hand in the shape of a gun and placed it in his other. “Small space between Avon and her killer like Avon was walking ahead, talking and eating something with yeast. Not worried about the person being behind her.”

  “What were the contents of her stomach?” I asked. “She’d gone to the Sweet Shop the morning she was killed.”

  “Then I can say the yeast was a donut.” He wrote down on the paper.

  “A donut or many donuts?” I asked.

  “She only had eaten one donut. She was eating at the time she was shot which makes me think she knew the suspect and didn’t think they were going to kill her. Also,” he continued and picked up the long silver pointer. He pointed to her fingertip on her right-hand pointer finger. “She was licking some of the icing off her finger at the time of impact of the bullet.”

  “How on Earth did you determine that?” I was in awe at his skills.

  “The streak on the finger from where it was in her mouth, is the same streak on her tongue. She was eating the donut, licking her finger, the suspect was walking behind her and shot her in the back at close range, hitting the heart directly, which caused sudden death.” He was as matter-of-fact as you could get.

  “She did buy three donuts according to Raven the owner of Sweet Shop. I wonder who she was meeting?” Lita Brumfield, Rich Moss, or Reagan Quinlan, I repeated their names in my head.

  “You’ve not found the gun?” He asked, handing me the clipboard.

  “No. I’m hoping to see some warrants on my desk when I head back to the office.” I found the big black “X” where he marked for me to sign off on it. “Avon’s funeral?”

  “Her parents reserved the front room for tomorrow. It’s going to be an hour lay out before a quick funeral from Preacher Bing.”

  “Tomorrow? Isn’t that quick?” I asked.

  “I think they know she’s not coming back. Some people just want to get it over with.” Max sighed. “People grieve differently.”

  I walked over the office and peeked on the glass window of the door.

  “Tina, she’s all yours.” I pointed to Avon and gave her body one last look. “I’m going to find out who did this to you,” I whispered.

  It was a promise I made to her parents and a promise I was making to her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When I got back into the Wagoneer, I pulled my notebook out of my pocket and reread what I’d written down. The autopsy file laid open on my passenger seat and as I went over my notes, I continued to look at the notes Max had taken.

  The more I thought about it, the more I was confident Avon knew her assailant. There was a tickle in the back of my head that said I was missing something. If only I knew what that something was.

  I started going through the notebook where I’d written all the information about Rich Moss. I flipped a few pages over to where I’d dropped by to see Lenora. Cottonwood First National was written down with a big circle around it. The paper I’d seen on the coffee-table and all the other financial papers she’d had on top of it, told me she’d had some business at the bank.

  That wouldn’t be uncommon because Woody had died, but Lenora’d not gotten the death certificate this week, which made me wonder if she’d had her account put on hold. That did happen when there was a death in some cases, but what expenses did she need? The bank form was the payoff of their mortgage. What was the calculation of the $20,000?

  Before I went back to the office to fill in the whiteboard and see if any of the pieces were starting to fit together, I decided to head to the Cottonwood First National, the only bank in Cottonwood that Lenora’s mortgage could have been through.

  Not sure if Vernon Bishop was going to be able to tell me anything without a warrant, but he owed me a favor. I’d gotten Mama to give his wife, Lynn, a position in the Cottonwood Baptist elite bell choir. Not only that, but it helped get Lynn out of the house and get some rest away from their three youngin’s. Vernon had mentioned a few times how it’d helped she was getting out of the house more.

  Now was the time for me to remind him of that. It wasn’t illegal, just a little immoral.

  The parking lot was empty, which was to be expected since I arrived right as they’d opened. The teller line was along the back wall and the offices were in the front behind glass walls. There was literally no privacy for Vernon Bishop, so when our eyes caught, he couldn’t run from me.

  He waved me in and stood up.

  He wore a nice three-piece black pinstriped suit. His hair, which was prematurely gray, was neatly combed to the side with the perfect amount of gel. His cologne was a nice touch. He was much younger than he looked, fifteen years older than me to be exact.

  “How’re Lynn and the kids?” I went ahead and used my ammunition and didn’t beat around the bush.

  “They are great. Though, she’s got her hands full for the summer without school.” He laughed.

  “Mama told me they were already getting ready for this year’s Christmas Cantata.” I shook my head.

  “It’s the pride of Cottonwood and Lynn loves it.” He smiled. “What’s going on with you this early?”

  “Well, I’ve been investigating Lenora Moss’s break-in during Woody’s funeral.” I pulled out my notebook to make it look as if Lenora told me the information, though I’d seen it with my own eyes through my being nosey and all.

  “I heard about that,” he tsked. “I told Lynn the Cottonwood Chronicle needed to stop posting the funerals in the paper. It gives petty thieves all sorts of information. Edna Easterly might’s well just post an open invitation.”

  “Lenora had paid off her mortgage and she’d mentioned she needed some extra cash. Did she come in here and ask about that?” I acted as though I was reading out of my notebook and mad
e it sound as if I was checking a fact.

  “She came in.” He walked around his desk, gestured me to sit and closed his office door.

  There was some mumbling coming from the teller line and since the bank was so open and the walls were glass, the room echoed even a whisper.

  “Kenni bug, look.” Poppa’s ghost was on the other side of the glass office. His hand pointed.

  I looked past him out the office and standing at one of the teller windows was Reagan Quinlan and Herb Brumfield.

  “This is getting good.” Poppa did a little two-step and swept up to the teller line.

  Unfortunately, Vernon had shut his door, which meant I couldn’t hear what they were doing, but Poppa was there with his big ears open. This was when it was good to have a ghost as a deputy. If only he could be a permanent ghost deputy now that I knew what Finn was up to.

  “What happened when she came in?” I fidgeted in my seat. The murder of Avon Meyers was more important than figuring out what Lenora needed the money for at the moment, though I still think Rich knew more.

  “She wanted to see if she could take out a home equity line for $20,000.” He sat down on the edge of his seat. He leaned a little forward, trying to peer in my notebook.

  “Did she say what for?” I pulled the notebook closer to my chest.

  “She said she wasn’t sure if she needed it but wanted to know how fast she could get it.” His chin slightly turned to the side, his eyes narrowed. “I’m sure she told you all this in that little notebook of yours.”

  “I have to follow up on all the information.” There was no lie there. “Time?”

  “She said that she wasn’t sure when or if she was going to need it. Since the house was in her name only, there was no hold on it, and I don’t need a death certificate to give her a second mortgage.” His hands moved around as he talked with them and many shoulders shrugged. “I told her it could be pretty immediate since it was just her.”

  “She never said what she needed it for?” I asked, pulling the notebook away and pretending to read it.