Chicken Culprit

by Vikki Walton

  Anne nodded.

  Guiding hands supported her until she was upright. Strong arms bore the weight of her back and she leaned heavily on them. The man smelled like buttered popcorn. She took in a deep breath. “Yum. Tasty snack.”

  Another soft chuckle tickled her ear, then she heard him say under his breath, “Thanks for the compliment.”

  What the heck is he talking about? Popcorn really sounds good.

  “Can I have some?” She might feel better if she ate something salty.

  “Some what, ma’am?” a woman interjected. As she moved from her position, Anne could see the woman’s face, serious and intent. “Do you want us to transport you to the hospital for evaluation?”

  Anne tried again to clear her mind of the lingering fog. “No. I don’t need a hospital. I just want to sit, I mean, stand up.”

  The man and woman, dressed in identical dark blue EMT uniforms, helped her up. As Anne struggled to stand, her legs moved like those of a newborn filly finding its balance for the first time. Swaying for a moment, she held her ground. The morning’s events returned with a vengeance.

  She swiveled around, taking in the scene. To her left, crime specialists were working within the taped-off compost area while the sheriff’s department talked to onlookers: a few local reporters, some of the neighbors. But something—no, someone—was missing.

  “Kandi! Where’s Kandi?” A renewed energy coursed through her. She wrestled away from the strong arms.

  “Ms. Freeman, we’ll need to ask you some questions.” A man had appeared on her right. He opened a wallet to show his official identification. Bradley Everett. Carolan Springs Police Department.

  “Not until I find Kandi. Where’s Kandi? She’s about this tall, bright red hair…” Anne’s arm moved awkwardly as she stumbled backward. The EMTs caught her arms again and led her to a gurney parked nearby.

  A uniformed officer spoke, “Kandi Jenkins has been taken in for evaluation and questioning.”

  After Anne’s refusal to be taken to the hospital, the woman EMT had escorted her back to her kitchen. The warmth of the room enveloped her and chased away the chill of the morning.

  The other EMT—Popcorn-man—brewed a fresh pot of bitter, strong coffee, which made Anne grimace, but its heat warmed and revived her. The police detective sat across from her at the scrubbed butcher-block table, and an officer stood sentinel by the door.

  The detective pulled a notepad from his pocket. “You ready to answer some questions, Ms. Freemont?”

  “Do I need a lawyer?”

  “That’s for you to decide.” Detective Everett clicked his pen.

  “No more lawyers,” Anne murmured. “What?”

  “No. I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Okay, I just need you to tell me everything you can remember from this morning, before you fainted and hit your head.”

  “I hit my head?” Anne reached up and felt the back of her head. She grimaced.

  “Yes, you did,” Popcorn-man replied.

  The investigator shot him a keep-your-mouth- shut glance. Detective Everett continued. “Let’s start with some basics. How long have you lived in Carolan Springs?”

  “Just about a month.” Anne scooted back in her chair. She started to wrap her arms around herself but thought better of it. Her stained hands rested on the table and she realized with a shudder that it must be blood. She struggled with the urge to vomit.

  “Were you friendly with Ralph Rogers?”

  “I only met him once.” Anne wrapped her hands around the still-warm mug which helped calm her nerves.

  Everett looked up from his notepad. “When was that?”

  “The day after I moved in.” “Not since?” He stared at her.

  “I’ve been busy with unpacking and trying to get things in place with contractors.” Anne felt a twinge of guilt. “I mean we waved and said hi when we got the mail, but that was about it.”

  “Okay. So back to the day you met him. He came over here, or you went to his house?”

  “I went there when I heard Kandi scream—” Anne caught herself.

  The room became silent. She felt trapped in their gaze. Anne took a deep swallow of the coffee to consider her response. What were you thinking? You can’t say you found Kandi and Ralph fighting with her hands grasping an axe.

  “You were saying you heard a scream?” He urged her to respond.

  Detective Everett sat silently, waiting for her to continue. Pen poised.

  “She wanted to get her chicken back in its run, before it got to Ralph’s garden. No big deal, really.”

  “Oh, okay.” His tone of voice relayed that the incident most likely bore no importance.

  “Was there any animosity between Ms. Jenkins and Mr. Rogers?”

  Anne took another long drag on her coffee. Kandi seems like a nice kid. No way did she kill Ralph over a dumb chicken. But you were fooled once before.

  Anne’s need to reply was delayed by an officer coming up the back porch stairs. Everett got up and went to the door. The officer followed him outside, shutting the door behind him. Words drifted in through the open kitchen window.

  Anne strained to hear the conversation. Thankfully, Popcorn-man had followed them, so he couldn’t distract her.

  “We believe we found the weapon used to kill—”

  Everett interrupted him and said something she couldn’t make out.

  The newcomer continued, his voice quieter, but Anne still caught some of his words—bloody axe, tossed in bushes, Jenkins .

  Everett reentered the room followed by the others and sat down.

  A crime scene investigator arrived. “Brad, you might want to see this.” Between latex-gloved fingers, he held a pink piece of paper in an evidence bag. The officer took it from the CSI and handed it to the detective. “We discovered it by the lilac bushes, along with some other papers.”

  “Do you recognize this, Ms. Freemont?” He held it out for her inspection.

  “Ahhh, ummm, it’s to me.” Anne recognized Kandi’s note.

  She tried to make light of it. “It must have blown there when my recycling tipped over. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. A pass on any littering fine, okay?” She smiled coyly and reached out to secure the note.

  The note she knew bore the childish scribble and simple reminder of a warm neighborly welcome. That kindness eclipsed by what Anne also recalled had been written in jest—‘I could just kill him.’

  “It’s evidence.” The CSI went back outside, taking the note with him.

  No. It can’t be. Kandi wouldn’t kill Ralph. Why would she do it? It makes no sense. Her motive couldn’t be a chicken. Though people have killed for much less, sometimes for no reason whatsoever. Had she? Maybe in a fit of anger? Or an accident? No, not Kandi. This doesn’t make sense.

  Everett interrupted her thoughts. “Anything more you want to tell me about Kandi or the chicken getting into Mr. Rogers’s garden?”

  Anne needed to buy some time to think. She grabbed the edge of the table, swaying in her seat, as she let out a high-pitched, “Whoa, dizzy...” Keeping one hand on the table, she moved her right hand to her forehead, closing her eyes.

  “Brad, I told you to wait and question her later. She took a pretty good knock to the head.” Popcorn-man must have returned.

  “Okay.” Detective Everett shut his notepad and rose from his chair. “Here’s my card, Ms. Freemont. We’re the assisting organization for this area. You’re technically part of the county versus the city. So the Sheriff will be finalizing this investigation.”

  Anne mumbled, “Okay,” and kept up the undulating motion, even though the swaying made her dizzy for real.

  As soon as the officers left, Popcorn-man sat down and said, “You can quit the acting now.”

  Anne regarded him with a ‘whatever do you mean’ look.

  “I…I—” She stopped moving.

  “Don’t try to con me. I know what’s real and what isn’t.”

 
She blushed at being caught out. So much for an acting career. “Okay, you got me—”

  “Sam. I’m Sam Powers.”

  “Listen, Sam. My thoughts were all jumbled. I didn’t want to say anything that could be misconstrued.”

  “I get it.” He pulled the cap from his head, brushed back his brown wavy hair, and put the hat back on with a deft movement. Reaching behind him, he pulled out papers from a backpack he’d slung over the chair.

  “Here are instructions for the next twenty-four hours. If any of the symptoms on this list occur, then you’ll need to give us a call. Since we’re a small town, we’re basically your emergency room team. No hospital here. Since you refused additional treatment, you do need to go see your doctor tomorrow, just to get checked over. Who’s your doctor?”

  “I don’t have one yet. I haven’t been in town long. The only person that has seen me is Hope.” Anne initialed the paperwork he set before her.

  Sam took the paperwork and handed her a copy. “She’s great. You can go to her. She’s an M.D. as well as a naturopath. We’re lucky to have her. Best of both worlds—natural and allopathic medicine combined. Anyway, she’ll make sure you’re good to go. Well, I’m off.”

  He scratched at the stubble of the day’s beard. “See you round, but hopefully not back on the ground.”

  “Oh, a real comedian. Ha-ha.”

  He grinned, tipped his cap, and left.

  Chapter Four

  After the initial shock of Ralph’s death, things calmed down for a few weeks. Then reports were leaked to the press. Ralph had sustained trauma to his mid-section, most likely caused by a sharp instrument, but the official cause of death had been blood loss.

  Anne took a deep breath, reliving the moment when she’d heard about the medical examiners verdict of homicide. The evidence appeared strong against Kandi. An axe found in her yard fit the wound. Worst of all, Kandi’s DNA was found on the axe handle, on Ralph’s clothing, and at the crime scene. Other than Ralph’s fingerprints, Kandi’s were the only ones found on the axe. Coupled with the note about killing Ralph, it had only been a matter of time before Kandi had been arrested on suspicion of murder.

  For Anne, seeing the sweet and kind-hearted Kandi being taken away in handcuffs had been devastating. It seemed like a bad dream where you can’t wake up.

  After Kandi had been arrested and booked, she’d placed a call to Anne from jail. With a heartbreaking, desperation in her voice, Kandi begged Anne to come visit her. Reluctantly, Anne had agreed and the day had arrived.

  Anne didn’t know what to expect as she walked into the city’s detention center. The walls were painted in the latest cast-off colors of the local hardware store. She entered to see a thick glass window with a speaker mounted in it.

  To its left, there was an imposing metal door with a guard looking through its small window. A row of plastic chairs sat along one wall, and a pot filled with coffee of doubtful provenance sat on a cart. Some news story played on the television screen mounted in the far corner, the muted sound like that of an incessantly buzzing insect.

  Two people hovered at the coffee cart. The woman poured fake creamer out of a bent cardboard container into a cup. Next to her, a young man in his early teens looked up as Anne passed. The woman, most likely the boy’s grandmother, responded to his request for the sugar. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t give you some real lumps. I’m so fed up…”

  Anne quick-stepped past the pair to the window. A solidly built woman, her hair pulled back tightly into a bun, strode to the window.

  Anne smiled.

  The woman didn’t. “Yes?”

  “I’m here to see Kandi Jenkins.” “Name?” The woman glared at her. “Anne Freemont.”

  The woman pulled a clipboard off the wall above the desk and scanned the list using her finger. “Okay. Take a seat.”

  While Anne waited, she reflected on how much her life had become entwined with Kandi’s. Before Ralphs’ murder and Kandi had been arrested, it had become almost a daily ritual for the young woman to show up for a quick chat over coffee in the morning or a cup of tea in the afternoon. Kandi had rapidly won Anne over with her sweet nature, despite their age gap. The two would share meaningless conversation about the weather or some antic of Kandi’s chickens and they’d also discussed the strange disappearance of Rusty, who’d gone missing. Kandi blamed it on a mountain lion, but Anne said maybe Rusty had gone on the lam after killing Ralph. They’d laughed at the time but the reality of Kandi’s position now made Anne rethink all of their conversations since Ralph’s traumatic death.

  Yet, while their friendship grew deeper and stronger, they rarely talked about themselves or their pasts. The one thing Anne did know about Kandi was that her husband spent much of his time away for business—a lot of time.

  As they’d talked about Ralph. Kandi had remained positive that his murder would soon be solved. But in the back of her mind, Anne remembered all the collected evidence and worried for her new young friend. Had it all been a ruse? Was Kandi capable of murder?

  “Anne Freemont, step to the door.” The commanding voice broke her reverie.

  Anne did as instructed. A tall, burly officer came and stood at the entrance, giving Anne a glance-over. A buzzer sounded, and the door swung open.

  “Remove your jacket, empty your pockets, and put your purse over on the table for inspection.” He held up a bag she’d set down next to her purse. “What’s this?”

  “It’s some items for Kandi—Mrs. Jenkins. Is that okay?” The guard took a quick look into the bag, which held toiletries and other personal items.

  “We’ll go through it and then see she gets it.” The guard set it aside on another counter. He took her purse, looked through it, and gave her a nod toward a row of lockers. After she’d put her purse in the locker and he’d secured it, he disappeared around the corner.

  The female officer from the front window appeared in his absence. She did a swift pat-down of Anne, who obediently followed orders to hold her arms out to her sides. After a scan with a metal-detector wand, she led Anne toward a small room off the hallway.

  Inside, Kandi sat at a table, picking at her cuticles. She wore an orange jumpsuit and cheap flip-flops. Anne’s heart clenched.

  The female guard stepped to the side.

  Kandi looked up as Anne entered the room. Her eyes pooled with tears that slid silently down her cheeks. “Thank you for coming. Jeff’s at an important conference for business. He’s working on getting a flight back as soon as possible. He’ll post bond for me soon so I can get out of here. They wouldn’t let me out on my own recogna—” She struggled to finish the word.

  “Recognizance” Anne interjected.

  Kandi nodded then shivered.

  Anne wanted to give her a comforting hug but the guard’s warning glance stopped her so she sat down across the metal table from Kandi. She cringed to see the girl wore handcuffs.

  “I didn’t do it.” Kandi moaned, as tears rolled down her face. “Why do they think I would kill Ralph? I have no idea how that axe got in my yard.” She took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “You’ve got to help me. Clear my name. I didn’t do this.”

  “What do you expect me to do Kandi? I’m not a lawyer.”

  “I have a lawyer. He’s driving over from Denver today.

  I need a detective.”

  “Okay. Good to know. But maybe you haven’t noticed. I’m not a detective, either.”

  “But I don’t have, like, anyone else.” As her voice rose in anguish, the guard took a step closer. Kandi got the message and lowered her voice. “I’ve got to find out what really happened. I can’t let them pin this on me. I need you to be my Miss Marple.”

  Pin this on me? Miss Marple? Anne sighed deeply and shook her head.

  “Well you can’t be, like, Phyrne Fisher. She’s young, racy, and hot-to-trot—”

  That’s the way to get me to help you kiddo. Call me old and boring. Not!

  “—and of cour
se, you can’t be Poirot or Holmes, because you’re, like, not a man.”

  Anne had heard enough. “You can’t be serious! Young lady, you are charged with a grave crime, and you’re talking fictional mystery detectives?”

  “I’m just saying that, like, none of them are real detectives, so you could do it.”

  “Yeah, well here’s the thing, missy. The problem with that is I’m not dating a sheriff, police chief, or other law enforcement officer—so how do you propose I gain any information to solve the crime, Ms. ‘come back to the real world’ Jenkins?”

  “You’re new here. All you have to do is, like, go to the stores, and you’ll hear a lot from people talking. They won’t even, like, notice you.”

  “Gee. Thanks.” Anne groaned.

  “Well, no offense, but you could use, like, a new haircut.”

  Seriously? I’d like to shake some sense into this girl. But Anne quickly saw past the bravado, and the very real, very scared young girl emerged in front of her eyes.

  Her heart softened. This wasn’t the time for lectures. “Look, sweetie, I’m no detective. I don’t know what I can do to help, but I’ll do what I can. Okay?”

  Kandi sucked in a sob and nodded her head. Tears slid down her cheeks. The guard handed her a box of tissues. As she grabbed the tissues, the metal bracelets clanked loudly.

  “Thanks.” Kandi wiped her eyes and nose.

  “No problem. Time’s up, though.” The officer pointed at the clock affixed to a far wall.

  Anne stood. “Anything you need, you let me know. I brought some magazines, some snacks, and a few things for you, like socks, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.”

  “That’s, like, so sweet. Thank you. I need to ask you one more favor. If you don’t mind, could you go over and feed the girls? Jeff should be able to close them up tonight. The chicken feed is in the metal trashcan.” Under her breath, she said, “I don’t want whatever got Rusty to get my other girls.”

  “Yes, I’ll make sure the chickens have food and water.” The officer motioned for her to exit at the open door. On entering the hall, Anne turned and glanced once more at the young woman. Kandi sat slumped over onto the table, tissues pushed to her face, handcuffs hanging on tiny wrists, silent sobs wracking her body.