“So how’d you get here tonight?”
“Tommy came by and let me go. Then he and Ronnie had a fight.” She closed her eyes. “Or maybe they had a fight and let me go — maybe that was it.”
I wasn’t going to let her go over the edge just now. I had to keep her on the beam. “Just how much of this do you think Tommy Acree is into?”
“He’s a policeman. He’s Lowe’s cousin.”
“Yeah, him.”
“Gee, I don’t know. He knew a lot about it. He and Lowe were going into business together. They wanted to buy the Turner land and set up a manufacturing plant for Lowe’s drug.”
“Yeah — they call it Homicide.”
“What?”
“That’s what they call it, the drug you say he was taking.”
“Whatever. He was going to use that land as a place to make it. It’s really private. Tommy knew about all that. They were going to make a fortune.”
I wanted to be sure. “Tommy knew.”
“Tommy invested.”
I nodded. “How come the boys wouldn’t sell the land?”
“They thought Lowe was going to use it for a chemical dump. That’s what he told everybody.”
Maytag’s voice came out of the darkness behind me. “Maybe this is important, maybe it ain’t. But it just come to me one reason why Lowe could have been so interested in Lydia. See, me an’ Peach? We arranged, a good while back, with our family lawyer, that if anything ever happened to us, that particular land would go over to Lydia.”
The silence was only a backdrop for crickets and tree frogs.
Lydia and Dally and I were giving them one very strenuous look.
Dally said it before anyone else did. “Yeah, that might explain why Lowe was sweet on you, honey. He always figured he could get the boys declared incompetent — or maybe he even had the idea that they’d get dead somehow — and then the land would be yours. And since you’re nutty in the fruit basket ... no offense ...”
She smiled. “... none taken ...”
Dally finished. “... and he was your husband, the land would be his.”
I popped another look at the boys. “Now, why would you give the land over to Lydia?”
They looked at me like I couldn’t even speak English.
Maytag shook his head. “We don’t have that much money to speak of, but we do have land. It’s all we got, to give to our family.”
Peachy agreed. “We love her, Flap. She’s family.”
I was about to launch into a very long tirade about the nature of family, when there was another voice in the darkness — and right on cue, if you ask me.
40 - Summer Freeze
“Everybody just stand real still.” Tommy Acree stepped into the dim light that bounced off the gravestones from the streetlamps not so far away. His gun was poised and his hand was steady. “Boy” — he actually laughed out loud — “you are all so very under arrest.” You could tell he wanted to shoot something real bad.
Maytag spoke like a little kid. “Hey, Tommy.” Remember how the little girl says “Hey, Boo” to Robert Duvall in To Kill a Mockingbird? That voice.
Tommy’s eyes were dancing. “Lord, I done hit the jackpot.” He was looking at the five of us like we were buried treasure. “Now I wished I hadn’t sent Taylor and everybody else on home. I just had a hunch” — more laughing — “but I didn’t expect this. I surely would have brought my fellow officers of the law along with me.”
I kept my hands very calm, and right where he could see them. “Okay, Tom, here’s the deal: Put the gun down and get away from me.”
He wasn’t even the least bit irritated. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because if you don’t, all kinds of hell is going to befall all over you.”
“Sorry?”
I took a little step toward him. “First, I know about the drugs. I know Lowe was a bad man — maybe you are too. Second, I know why you wanted the Turner land. And third, I believe I know how Lowe died. It has almost nothing to do with anybody you’re looking at. Not to mention that between me and Maytag and Peachy, you’re going down like a broken elevator.”
He wasn’t moved. “I don’t care what you know. I got you good. There’s a big old dead body over there under your car, bud. I conked him on the head, wired your car, ran over him, and then handcuffed the body to the chassis. You’re in absolutely the most trouble you’ve ever been in. Maybe I’ll just shoot you now for resisting arrest and have done with it.”
I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t deal with Ronnie Tibadeau just then. I had to let Tommy know who was boss. “I already told you: I don’t care about that. And I’m standing pretty close. I doubt you’d kill me before I got a hold of you. Then you’d be in all kinds of hurt.”
Peachy strolled up to me calmly. “He ain’t gonna shoot you, Mr. Tucker.”
Maytag agreed. “He’s comprised of nearly one hundred percent chicken manure. He don’t got the guts to clean fish.”
Peachy explained it to me. “Him and Lowe? They used to beat up on people all the time in high school.”
Maytag agreed. “They were what you’d call delinquent.”
I remembered. “The Peaker Brother-morticians had a few things to say along those lines.”
Peachy wasn’t finished. “But they’d never do it unless there was only one to beat up on — and both of them Acrees.”
Maytag looked at Tommy. “There’s only one of you now, bud — and a whole mess-buncha us.”
Tommy waved the gun a little wildly. “You’re forgetting about this.”
Peachy laughed. “What? That little old thing? I hurt myself worse shavin’ than you could wi’ that.” And he launched himself toward the policeman.
Tommy panicked. You could see it in his eyes. I don’t think he even meant to, but he started spraying bullets. Peachy was hit right away — leg, I think. I caught something a second later, just where I part my hair. But we got him. In less than ten seconds Tommy Acree was flat on the ground with five hundred pounds of mad redneck all over him, and me looking down at the mess. Peachy was dabbing at his leg, but it didn’t seem to bother him much.
I had the gun in my hand. Then I started feeling my head. “Damn. I think you shot me. Tommy, can you see this? Am I shot here?”
But he was in no condition to answer. Dally was right there; got a good peep at my noggin; pronounced me alive. All through the ruckus Lydia just stood there smiling, like it was all a dream.
Peachy looked up at Dally. “What’re we gonna do with ’im?”
She sighed. “Let’s take him back to the nightclub. Maybe he’ll cool off and we can get somethin’ settled, here, about all this brouhaha.” She eyeballed me. “Including your mechanic friend, Ronnie.”
The boys had to bop Tommy a couple before he’d calm down, but they got him to his feet, and we were off.
Once again, what a sight we must have been: Dally in the lead; Tommy in between the football stars; me and Lydia, arm in arm, bringing up the tail of the grand parade.
Peachy called out in a stage whisper. “Hey, Ms. Oglethorpe. What’d you say you was callin’ your new nightclub place?”
“Too Easy.”
“Oh. Good name.”
Without turning, she aimed her voice at me. I could well imagine the look on her face. “It’s not a name, it’s a way of life.”
I wasn’t absolutely sure, but I thought just maybe, in that moment the sun might be coming up over the old churchyard. The long night was nearly over.
41 - The Big Dream
We settled into the backroom of Dally’s new club. We didn’t know what else to do, so we tied Tommy up to a chair like you see in the movies. Now, ordinarily a guy like me will avoid tying up an officer of the law like it was the swine flu. But under the circumstances — we had in fact resisted arrest, roughed the guy up, and accused him of all manner of heinous crimes and whatnot — a little chair-tying seemed the next logical step.
There in the first l
ight of day I was the last one standing at the future Too Easy. Lydia was lying down on a drop cloth, trying to sleep. The boys were making coffee and making a lot of noise horsing around with something in the other room. Dally was in what was left of an armchair. It was pretty beat-up. I guess it must have been left by the previous managers of the establishment.
I tried to speak to Detective Acree with as much deference as I could muster. “Now, Tommy, if you’ll let me, I think I can tell you how your cousin Lowe died.”
He spit. “I know how he died. Those retards in the other room — who, incidentally, don’t seem to be able to figure out the coffeemaker, let alone any kind of alibi — beat my cousin’s head into his own desk.”
“Not quite. They choked him, but they didn’t kill him.”
“What?”
“They got him in a choke hold so he’d quit whacking his wife.”
He squinted. I think he might have even twitched. “She wasn’t even there.”
Sleepily, from the drop cloth: “Yes, I was. I was hiding in the bathroom.”
I continued. “Apparently Lowe had a private bath in his office.”
Tommy was not amused. “I know what he had in his office.”
“I don’t think you do.” I raised my voice. “Maytag, you boys about finished in there?”
Peachy’s head popped around the corner, grinning. “They got a hula hoop in here.”
“Cool, but could you all come on in?”
From the other room I could hear Maytag: “Awww.”
But they came. Lydia sat up. Dally had a look of mirth I hadn’t seen in a while from her. Used to be a regular look. I was happy to see it back.
As the boys were filing in, I had to ask her about it. “What’s so funny?”
She shook her head. “Just good to see you in your element.”
I looked around. “Naw. This place hasn’t been my element for quite a while.”
“Not what I meant.”
I had to smile back then. “I know. And by the way? I was just thinking the same kind of thing about you.”
She actually blushed. I have no idea why.
But we didn’t pursue it. The stage was set. I guess I was in my element, at that. It was the time of the day to let all shadows brush away. I was on.
“Stop me when I go wrong, anybody. But, Lydia? The day Lowe died, he called you up on the phone and told you to come over to the bank.”
Tommy was impatient with me. “How in this world would you know a thing like that?”
Lydia yawned. “He’s right.”
I gave Tommy the eye. “Given the tenor of their relationship as I now understand it, I can’t really see her going over to his workplace of her own volition.” I went on to Lydia. “He called you to bring him a shot, I’m guessing. He said something like he had a meeting with the Turner twins and he wanted to be prepared for it, so you were to bring him one of his syringes.”
She was a little more alert, riveted, no doubt, by my acute awareness of the events of her life.
“Right. How would you know that?”
I blinked. “I’m good at guessing. You gave him the fatal shot. Why else would you think you’d killed the guy? Unless you really did whisper a magic word in his ear that made his brain explode. I’m not entirely ruling that out as a possibility, knowing you as I do.”
She just nodded, thinking.
“So — when you got there, you tried to talk him out of it.”
She couldn’t take it anymore. “This is amazing. It’s like you were there.”
Dally answered. “He’s got a trick.”
I finished. “Plus, it’s the only thing that makes any sense out of the events.”
Tommy was unconvinced. He spat out a German-sounding word that has something to do with carnal knowledge in the English penal system.
I was undaunted. “Be that as it may, Tom, Lydia was only trying to save your cousin from himself. Plus, as we’ve discussed among ourselves, Lowe would apparently get even meaner than he normally was after he’d taken that shot — so she was trying to do herself a favor too.”
Lydia nodded silently.
I went on. “But Lowe wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted on his shot. Lydia gave it to him. And he was already mad because he’d had to argue with Lydia to get it. I’m saying he was plenty steamed when the boys showed up, a little early.” I looked at Lydia. “How’m I doing? Still on the beam?”
Lydia confirmed.
“He told you to hide ... like, in the bathroom so he could dispatch the twins, get their land, make the deal. Whatever. You hid. Lowe yelled. The boys resisted. You popped out from the bathroom, trying to leave — or maybe trying to help the boys. Lowe wouldn’t let you. The boys took exception. They got Lowe into a choke hold. He started to pass out.”
She was sitting up now, completely awake.
I nodded at her; she nodded back. I looked back at Tommy. “She could see there was something wrong with him. His face bugged out or something. My guess at this point is that he’d made the dose too strong. All the activity with the boys sped everything up and he went into shock. Maybe it was in combination with the exertion or the lack of breath, whatever. The drug zapped him in his brain pan and fell down on his whatchamacallit and he was dead.”
Lydia couldn’t seem to quit nodding.
Tommy’s eyes were on her now, like a searchlight, like a lighthouse beacon. She seemed about to tumble over the edge again.
She started to get to her feet, but she couldn’t. “That’s right. I gave him his shot. He said that’s what he wanted. He was asking for it. So I gave it to him. I killed my husband. That’s what this story means: I killed him.”
Maytag shook his head. “Nuh-uh, darlin’. It was me that was chokin’ him to death.”
Peachy wouldn’t hear of it. “In point of fact it was me that let him slip down in his seat so he banged his head. That’s what did it. Absolutely my fault.” He looked at Tommy. “I apologize.” Like he’d spilled Lowe’s coffee on his desk.
She was still nodding, like one of those dumb dogs some people have in the back window of their cars. “I gave him the shot. I killed him.”
Tommy was still glued to Lydia, and his face was different than I’d yet seen it: contorted, strange, devoid of all the self-assurance and bravado I’d noted there in our earlier encounter. His voice was very soft, and kinder than I would have imagined it could be. “Lydia? Honey? It’s not your fault. It’s not you at all.”
“I gave him the shot. I did. I’m the one.”
“Maybe you did, but he was asking for it.”
She was right on the brink. “Doesn’t matter. I killed a man.”
“No, you didn’t.”
She closed her eyes. “I gave him the shot that killed him.”
I thought Tommy was going to cry or explode or roll on the floor like at a church meeting. “But you’re not the one that ... you didn’t make up the ... you didn’t make it to where it was too strong to take ...” But he couldn’t finish his thought. He let go his gaze. He was trying hard to see something in one of the cracks in the floor. He wanted to die. It might as well have been written on a sign around his neck.
I think I got it before anybody else. Maybe it was something somebody at the family reunion at the Kingdom Baptist had mentioned before about their suspicions about Tommy Acree. Maybe it was something in his eyes when he looked at Lydia. “That’s right, Lydia. You didn’t make up the shot and put too much juice in it.” I eyed Lowe’s cousin for all he was worth. “Tommy did that. Didn’t you, Tommy?”
He was still staring at the floor. His voice was like an electric shaving razor, tinny and growling: “I don’t know whether I thought it would kill him ... or not. I just don’t know.” He looked at me. Maybe he was asking my opinion. “What could I do? He was killing her. Everybody could see that. He beat her in front of everybody in church one day. Can you imagine that? In church. He was using her like she was a rag doll, like she was a ... something n
ot real. He didn’t love her.” Suddenly he really wanted to know my answer. “How could he do it? How could he do those awful things?”
I helped. “To the woman you loved.”
No thunder, no lightning, no special effects at all. He just nodded, looking down at the floor again. Lydia blinked hard; talked slow. “What?”
Maytag looked at him, no disgust, no sympathy, just fact: “Well, Mr. Acree ... if that’s true, you seem to be more messed up of a person than just about anybody around, in my opinion.”
Peachy thought so too. “Now that Lowe’s dead.”
Dally seemed to find it all strangely amusing in the grand scheme of things. She let a moment of silence pass before she had her say. “So now everybody wants to take credit for killing Lowe Acree.”
Tommy looked at her. “I got into his house ... just that morning. That very morning. It was after he left for work and when Lydia went to the store. I saw her go. I knew he would want a taste when he dealt with the twins. He always said it gave him the killer instinct in the business deals.” He looked at Peachy. “Not that he’d need it with those two. Still, I knew he’d take him some.” He looked to me for support, it seemed. “See, I thought he’d come home for it. I didn’t have any idea he’d be crazy enough to do it at work. I just didn’t figure on anybody else getting involved. He’d just shoot up, conk out, that’d be it. Junkie overdose. If he was just really sick or knocked out, I’d find him, take him to the hospital, he’d be exposed — maybe even get help. I’d like to believe I had that in my head. But if he died, I’d be stunned. The town’d gossip about it for months. But by and by something else would happen that would take their minds off it and they’d be on to something else. That’d be that. I’d console the widow — respectfully. I’d wait six months more. We’d date. Everything would be fine — eventually.” He twisted around so he could face Lydia full on. “I’d have treated you so good. You just don’t know. You would have been like a queen.”
She smiled. “That’s what Lowe said.” But there was no meanness in her voice.
I was more on the mean side. “That’s why you didn’t allow an autopsy?”
Too Easy (A Flap Tucker Mystery Book 2) Page 18
