Moonlight, Murder, and Small Town Secrets

by K C Hart

  She got up and walked down the hall. Sometimes John would use the extra bedroom as a storage room for his hunting and fishing gear until he could get it put back up in the den closet. Sure enough, there was a tackle box on the bed and a pair of waders propped against the footboard. She straightened that up then turned the air conditioner back up to seventy. There was no need to freeze Todd out tonight, and if she was honest, she would sleep better knowing he was there with her.

  Todd came in looking exhausted around one that morning. He looked much too tired to grill for information when he obviously just wanted to go to sleep. She needed sleep too. After all, she had to be sharp for church tomorrow. Teaching the seventh, eighth and ninth grade girls in Sunday school would be trying. They would be much more interested in what she knew about Jessa’s death than what she knew about Jesus. She was determined to not let her teaching hour be a gossiping hour.

  Chapter Four

  A glazed expression sat on Katy’s face as she walked to her car. Thoughts of the past twenty-four hour’s events tumbled loosely around in her head. The Sunday school lesson had gone smoother than expected. Victory Jones had to be put back on track several times, but that was every Sunday. Poor Victory could be an ADD poster child.

  The preacher’s sermon had really stepped on her toes. He spoke about treating everyone with love and respect. After all, we never know what the other person is going through. She had tried not to squirm in her seat. Jessa Williams’ death deserved to be treated with dignity and not judgment. She again had to ask God for forgiveness during the prayer time at the end of the service.

  “Hey girl, you must be in some deep meditation,” Misty said as she tugged on the back of Katy’s shirt. “I’ve been calling your name ever since you left the church steps and you just kept on walking. Come have lunch with me and Mike. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

  “Sorry,” Katy smiled softly. “I was just thinking about what the preacher said. I didn’t get enough sleep last night, so I’m probably sleepwalking a little too.”

  “That’s okay. You’ve had a busy weekend,” Misty said, hugging Katy’s shoulders. “Come on, let us take you to lunch. We insist.”

  “I probably need to get home,” Katy said. “Todd’s bed was empty when I got up this morning. He’s staying with me until John gets home. I want to get back so I can talk to him about last night.” She stuck the tip of her fingernail in her teeth. “But I don’t even know if he’ll be back home yet.” She looked at Misty and then Mike as they waited for her answer. “I guess it would be nice to visit with friends instead of going home to an empty house. I just wish John was here to go with us, but work is work. He’ll be jealous tonight when I tell him that I ate lunch with yaw.”

  “We’ll have to do it again next weekend when he’s home,” Mike said. “How does The Fish House sound?”

  Soon they were being seated at the locally owned seafood restaurant. On the way over Misty and Mike had talked about church activities, work, the band, the upcoming holidays and general chit chat, but they had made a point to avoid the topic of Jessa’s death. Katy knew she had given Misty the impression that she didn’t want to talk about it last night before she left the Burger Barn.

  The lighting in the restaurant was low. Even though the place was quite full of the after-church crowd, there was only a low murmur of conversation heard as they walked into the dining area. The effect was very calming, and it made Katy realize how hungry she was. She had overslept and skipped breakfast. “I’ll have the fried oyster poor boy with hushpuppies and fries,” she said to the waiter, handing back the large laminated menu.

  “So, how’re you feeling?” Misty asked as she looked over the menu. “Did you get any sleep? I should’ve invited you to stay at our house last night, but I honestly didn’t think about it until around midnight when we got home.”

  “Actually, I did get some sleep with Todd there.” Katy smiled as she watched Misty twist her lips into a pout trying to decide what to order. “He’s planning on staying at the house until John gets home later this week. I don’t think he needs to do that, but I did sleep better just knowing I wasn’t alone.” Katy paused as the waitress sat a sweaty glass of ice water on the napkin in front of her. “What in the world kept you two out so late last night? Everybody knows yaw are a couple of homebodies. I figured our little group would have broken up after I left.”

  “Normally I’m sure it would have, but things were crazy at the Burger Barn and got a little crazier after you left.” Misty took a sip from her water glass. “Amy Phobs came in right after you left to talk to Vickie and Sarah. You know she’s only a few years younger than those two, nineteen I think, and of course, Vickie had to find out if she knew anything about Jessa’s death.”

  “She must have said something mighty interesting if yaw talked past midnight,” Katy said.

  Misty waited while the waitress sat the appetizer in the middle of the table. “That conversation went on for about an hour. Then Mike and I rode back by the festival site just to be nosey. Mr. Fred was parked by the entrance giving away bags of free boiled peanuts. He said he didn’t have room for all them in his refrigerator and he didn’t want them to go to waste.” She tapped her finger on the table. “Don’t let me forget, I have you a bag at home in my frig. Anyway,” she continued, “Todd was still there blocking the entrance when we left, but the field was mostly deserted except for the sheriff’s crew and the coroner. They still had all the lights on around the stage, but I couldn’t see anything else from the road.”

  Katy put a piece of piping hot blooming onion in her mouth. “I hate I had to cut out so early, but I needed to be by myself so I could wrap my head around everything I saw. It was quite a shock to find Jessa like we did.”

  “Girl don’t apologize. You know I’m a florist. If I’d just found a dead body, I would’ve been at the emergency room getting some Xanax or Valium or something to calm me down. I was amazed that you were acting like it was no big deal. I guess you see dead people all the time, so it didn’t bother you.”

  “I probably do see a lot more dead people than most folks, but I can’t say that it didn’t bother me. That poor woman lying on the ground like that was just horrible. Leaving her under that flatbed was so inhumane. I can’t imagine what kind of person could do something like that.”

  “I can’t either,” Mike said, “but I think John was wise by getting Todd to stay with you. The scary thing about all of this is that the killer could be anybody, maybe even somebody we go to church with or work with and see every day.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Katy nodded looking from Mike to Misty. She pulled off another piece of the fried onion and dipped it in the come-back sauce. “By the way, what in the world could Amy Phobs have known about Jessa’s death? Jessa is what? Ten years older than Amy? I can’t imagine them two being great friends.”

  The waitress brought the rest of the food and they stopped to say a blessing before continuing. Katy stretched her lips over the crusty French bread and bit into the piping hot sandwich. Her eyes closed as the taste and texture of the fried oysters took over her senses.

  “Apparently Jessa has been dating Amy’s older brother Joe,” Mike said.

  “I don’t guess I know him. Did he go to school with any of my girls?” Katy’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “One of them Phobs boys was in Kelly Anne’s class, but there were six kids in that family so I might be thinking of the wrong one. If I’m right, that would make him about twenty-eight years old.”

  “According to Amy, Joe works offshore and lives in the trailer park off Highway five-eighty-seven.” Misty pointed over Katy’s head in the direction of the highway, “He started dating Jessa right after she moved to Skeeterville last year.”

  “Is he the Phobs kid that got kicked in the head by a cow when he was young?” Katy asked. “I know it sounds cruel, but I just can’t imagine Jessa dating him. His hair never did grow back on the left side of his head because of that sca
r and I can’t see Jessa with somebody who didn’t look, well, a certain way.”

  “No, that’s Josh, a younger brother,” Mike said, setting down his tea glass. “Joe’s older, in his thirties, I think. He’s a little older than any of your kids. That’s why you can’t place him.” Mike picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of battered, fried catfish. “He’s a big guy, not fat, just a bulky, muscled up fella. He drives that silver monster truck with the giant tires that you see parked in front of the Pig sometimes. Amy says she drives that big tank to work when Joe is offshore for his seven days. I’ve met him a couple of times at the bank. He’s a nice enough guy, just not good with his money. But there are plenty of people in that shape.” Being the president of the bank, Mike knew most of the people in town.

  “Amy said that Joe and Jessa had a huge fight Friday night after the Peanut Patch festival.” Misty’s eyes stretched wide and she leaned across the table toward Katy. “She said they were yelling and screaming at each other right there behind the shed where everybody could hear.”

  “Really?” Katy sat down her sandwich.

  “Amy had been embarrassed and wanted to just get in the car with her boyfriend and leave, but when she talked to us last night, she looked worried,” Misty said. “She said everybody there saw them yelling at each other and heard her brother threaten to do Jessa in if she didn’t straighten up and act right. She said she had never liked Jessa. The woman always talked down to their family like she was better than them. Amy was so upset.” Misty shook her head. “She didn’t want to see Jessa dead, just out of Joe’s life.” She paused and looked at her husband and then at Katy. “Do you think Joe had something to do with Jessa’s death? Amy sure acted nervous last night, like she was even unsure about her own brother and what was going on with him and Jessa. Poor girl, I felt sorry for her.”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions,” Katy said as she dipped a hushpuppy in ketchup. “I’m beginning to think there are a lot of people that have had words with Jessa Williams. I heard her fighting with Marissa Holmes that night too, but that doesn’t mean anything. I would like to hear what both of those fights were about though.” Katy smiled as she got an idea and looked at Misty. “How about you and I make a trip to the Nail Palace tomorrow?”

  “Girl you have a date,” Misty said, returning Katy’s smile.

  Mike looked from one woman to the other. “Wait, what am I missing here? You two just said something to each other that I didn’t hear, and I was listening to every word both of you said.”

  “Mike, the Nail Palace, and the beauty shop are the two very best places in this town to get any information you need,” Misty said as she patted Mike’s hand like he was a confused little boy. “By tomorrow afternoon we’ll know all about those fights or my name isn’t Misty Maleficent Morgan.”

  Katy laughed, “And I’m afraid it is.”

  Chapter Five

  “Stop your squawking,” Katy called to the oven timer as she hurried to the kitchen to get out the peach cobbler. After Misty and Mike dropped her back at her car that afternoon, she decided that the right thing to do would be to express her condolences to the Browns. She wasn’t sure how the Browns were related, but Jessa had been living with them for the past year. As far as Katy knew they were the only family Jessa had in town. She would drop the peach cobbler by their house tomorrow and express her sympathy.

  Peach cobbler was the only thing she could bake that tasted good almost every time she made it. She could get elbow deep in some nasty wound care and start IVs in anybody’s home. She could detect the signs of heart failure with a quick assessment and rattle off teaching on hundreds of medications without blinking an eye, but most days following a simple cake mix recipe seemed to be beyond her skill set. She didn’t chance it anymore. If she needed to fix a dish for a church function, a death, or illness in the family she had dibs on the peach cobbler. Everybody expected her to fix it and were nice enough not to bring one themselves. Several of her cooking failures had been experienced by her friends and neighbors in the past and they supported her in the peach cobbler success by calling it ‘Katy’s special peach dish.’ She knew that it was their polite way of saying, “at least we can eat that,” but she didn’t care. When they needed somebody to drop by on a Sunday afternoon and check on their ninety-year-old momma who had a stomach ache because her bowels hadn’t moved in five days and they didn’t want to take her to the emergency room, Katy was on their speed dial list. Everybody had their place in life.

  She pulled the cobbler out of the oven and looked at the crust’s very pale shade of tan. It should be a little crispier, but the last time she stuck one back in the oven the house had smelled like burnt peaches for a week.

  “Aunt Katy, you home,” Todd called as he came through the foyer. “It’s just me, letting myself in.”

  “I’m in the kitchen fixing to get some tea,” she called back. “You want me to get you a glass?”

  “That would be great.” Todd stepped through the doorway to the small, but tidy kitchen. “I’m going to go put on a t-shirt and get out of these work clothes. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  Katy poured two large glasses of sweet tea and returned to the living room. When Todd worked on Sunday mornings, he was usually at church on Sunday night, but he hadn’t made either service today. He would probably be working all kinds of hours until they figured out how Jessa died.

  Todd walked in and flopped down in one of the oversized recliners. John had surprised Katy with the matching set last Christmas. At first, she had not been thrilled. They had needed new living room furniture for years. She had wanted to shop around and find something with a little more modern feel, but now she loved the chairs as much as John did. They blended well enough with her sofa and love seat and were great for kicking back to read, cuddle with a grandkid or taking an afternoon nap, even if her living room didn’t look like a picture out of Southern Living.

  “Looks like you’ve had a busy day,” she said, handing him the glass of tea.

  “You have no idea.” Todd pulled the lever on the side of the chair to let his feet up. “I used to think I wanted to move to a bigger town with a little more exciting workload, but not anymore. I’m exhausted and I need to be at the station right now doing paperwork.”

  “You can’t work twenty-four hours a day Todd. And, after all, the girl ain’t going to be any deader tomorrow than she is today.”

  “I guess dead people don’t fluster you as much as the almost dead do huh?” The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile that contrasted with the dark circles under his eyes. “There are just some things that need to be checked up on and straightened out, and I don’t want anything to get missed. I sure would hate for that girl’s killer to go free because I overlooked something.”

  “I know that’s a huge responsibility.” Katy reached over and patted his hand, “but you aren’t the only one working on this, are you?”

  “Oh, no mam. As a matter of fact, I’m the low man on the totem pole and I’m mostly doing the grunt work.” Todd tilted his head from side to side to loosen his stiff muscles. “The sheriff and the coroner are doing all the really important stuff and all the other guys are on it too. I just don’t want to overlook anything. This is the first murder this town has seen in years.”

  “They’re sure it is murder?” she asked. Her forehead puckered in thought.

  “Yes mam. We have Joe Phobs locked up at the station. A lot of people saw him and Jessa fighting Friday night and he even threatened her right there in front of everybody. But you know that guy must not be very bright.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, the thing that sealed the deal is that we found a bloody monkey wrench in the back of his truck this morning when we went to his trailer.” Todd shook his head. “He was drunker than Cooter Brown and swears he didn’t do it, but it looks pretty bad for him.”

  “My word,” Katy choked out the words as she forced down her swallow of tea. “
She was beaten in the head with a monkey wrench? That would explain all the blood we saw on the ground under the stage.”

  “Yeah.” Todd rubbed his hands across his eyes and then his mouth to stifle a yawn. “I imagine one good lick with that thing would do just about anybody in.”

  “But he must have struck her at a different location and then moved her body to under the stage.” Katy paused and tapped her fingers against the cold tea glass. “Do you think he hit her in the head thinking he had killed her; then just threw her under the stage? As much blood as was behind her head she must have still been alive after she was moved. It looked like she bled out while she lay there, hopefully unconscious, poor girl.”

  “Aunt Katy, you’re pretty sharp,” Todd said, suddenly becoming more alert with his surprise. “That’s exactly what Mr. Morse decided when he examined the spot under the trailer. He looked at her head and told us that she had been struck and then moved. We turned that area upside down looking for more blood and sure enough, right there in the back of the shed was blood on the corner of a table and the ground. Somebody had covered it up with an old greasy tarp.” The corners of Todd’s tired mouth turned down. “Now you can’t be telling anybody what I’m telling you. The sheriff has already pretty much told a news crew from Jackson most of what I’ve said, but he would have my hide if he knew I was talking about the case with a civilian. I’m not the official spokesperson, so I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut.”

  “I won’t tell a soul Todd, but do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Is Joe Phobs dumb enough to threaten his girlfriend in front of a lot of witnesses, kill her, then leave the murder weapon in the back of his truck just waiting to be found? I mean, even if he killed her in a rage of passion you would think he would be smart enough to hide the murder weapon. After all, he had enough sense to hide her body and cover up the crime scene.”