by Risner, Fay
After my heart settled back to normal beats, I felt bad about frightening the dove off her nest. That was one Mabel forgot to warn me about. She didn't mention snakes, either. The image of stepping on a snake made me watch where I put my feet for the rest of the way. That slowed me down some, but I had a good reason. No way did I want to get snake bit and try to explain that to the chief.
The second row from the ditch was where I dropped and laid my provisions beside me. I waved above my head so if Mabel was watching she'd know I was all set. The time was eight thirty. I probably had about forty five minutes to wait before it was dark.
The rattle of the brown paper bag sounded noisy in the quiet as I unfolded the top. When I unzipped the baggie, the sandwich smelled good, and I was hungry. Didn't take long for me to scarf that down.
I poured coffee in the thermos lid to let it cool and was crunching my way through the small bag of chips when I heard sniffing noises. At first, the sniffing was distant but coming my way. I pictured a feral cat hunting for a dove next. As the sniffing became louder, I worried the nose belonged to a coyote or fox. When I heard the critter's heavy breathing, the animal was too close for comfort.
The bean plants foliage was too thick to see though. Quickly, I scanned the road to make sure no cars were coming before I loudly told whatever it was to move on. The sound of my voice was all it took. Pattering feet ran away from me. With the gentle breeze at my back, I got a whiff of skunk. Holy Smokes! I'd just backed down a skunk. Wait until Mabel hears about this.
Dusk made everything around me a dingy gray. I opened the oatmeal cookie and realized the mosquitoes and lightning bugs had come to join my picnic. I liked watching harmless fireflies. Their tiny beacons reminded me of when I was a kid, catching a jar full with my sister, Diane.
The mosquitoes kept me waving my hand around my face. Even that wasn't enough to discourage a lucky one that took a hit and run bite on my temple. If I was more of an outdoor person, I'd have thought to bring bug spray.
Waving frantically like I was, I wondered if Mabel could see me in the dimming dusk. She'd wonder if I'd gone crazy, sitting alone on the ground in the bean field. I sure hope she didn't come to keep me company.
Across the road came snorting and stomping feet. I squinted and made out two deer grazing in the opposite ditch. One of them must have caught my scent and warned the other. I clapped my hands. They bucked out of the ditch and ran away.
With relief, I suddenly found myself in total darkness. There would be no moon with the thick black cloud cover threatening rain. At least, the buzzing sounds stopped.
From now on, I had to be prepared for anything to happen. To keep me from going stare crazy, I poured the last of the coffee and sipped to make the cup lasted as long as possible.
I heard a car coming. In fact, I could hear it better than I could make it out. The headlights were off. The car was moving maybe fifteen miles per hour. I recalled Mabel said a car came down the road the night Alice Hutson was killed without lights. That was another suspect we hadn't considered.
The car stopped in the middle of the road just passed the mailbox and right in front of me. A form got out and came around the car. From the size and stride, I determined this was a man. He turned on a large flashlight after he was in the bottom of the ditch. Kicking at the tall, stemy grass, he parted a path along the ditch until he came to the towel. He picked it up and pulled a plastic sack out of his trouser pocket to stuff the towel in.
That was all I had to see. I yelled, “Freeze! Hands in the air. You're under arrest.”
The flashlight went off. The man scrambled up the ditch bank. I saw the flash of his gun as it exploded. The shot missed me by inches.
“Hey, this is Wedgewood Police Detective Renee Brown. I've got a gun, too. Stop right there, or I'll shoot you,” I yelled and crawled on my belly a few feet down the row as fast as I could.
Sure enough that man shot at where he heard my voice just as he slid on his belly into the opposite ditch. I returned fire and moved over again. Good thing, I'm fast. The guy's next shot was right where I'd been.
Now what was I going to do. It was too dark to make the man out well enough to get a good shot off. I didn't have any hope of talking him out of that ditch since he had the nerve to fire at my voice. Clearly, I hadn't thought my one woman stake out through very well.
It was possible he might make a run for his car any second which would have him shielded by his car where I had less of a chance of hitting him. If I fired and missed, he'd be gone. This surveillance would be for nothing.
I wasn't about to let a killer get away that easy if I could help it. So I fired twice in rapid session, deflating the car tires and crawled back to almost where I started.
I didn't have to boast out loud about what I just did to keep the man from escaping. The guy was mad enough to send a volley of shots my direction, but he was too far off the mark.
Since I had him penned down, I had time to give some thought to this predicament. How was I going to arrest that man when he had me penned down, too. I didn't have long to think about the problem.
In a few minutes, I heard sirens a mile away, coming from both directions. I couldn't figure out how help knew to show up right now, but I was glad I wouldn't have to sit in that bean field until daylight exchanging shots with a killer.
The county deputies braked to a stop on the road, penning the car between them. One of them shouted, “Detective Brown, you here?”
Crap, that was Steve Dikes's voice. Just my luck he was on duty tonight. I dated him for awhile, and decided he wasn't my type. I'd kept my distance from him ever since. “Yeah, in the bean field not far from the mailbox. The guy that killed Alice Hutson is across from me in the ditch. Be careful. He's armed and gun happy.”
The deputies twisted their cars so the lights were aimed at the ditch. All was quiet. Too quiet. Deputy Dikes was brave enough to slip out the passenger side of his car and edge over to the side of the road. He turned a large flashlight on and checked up and down the ditch. “No one here now.”
I jumped up and ran over to look for myself. All that remained was the hand towel sticking out of the bag. “He has to be here somewhere. Could be he moved after he penned me down with a volley of shots.” I slid down into the ditch and retrieved the towel.
“What is that?” One of the two deputies in the other car asked. The other deputy came up beside him.
“Bait,” I said. “Alice Hutson's car is still in her garage. If the guy knows how to find her keys, he'd steal her car. If not, he may be hid in her outbuildings.”
Dikes said to the other two deputies, “We best search the farm buildings.”
“How did you know to come out here, Dikes?” I asked.
“A woman named Mabel Baxter called in. She reported you were in a gunfight and needed help,” Dikes said.
“Good old Mabel,” I praised. “My car is over the hill at the Baxter house. I'll walk back after it and join you.”
“Not a good idea to be walking alone in the dark. The unsub might be hiding in the bean field. He'll be gunning for you for sure,” Dikes said. “I'll give you a ride.” He turned to the two other lawmen. “We'll help you search after I give her a lift to her car.”
Dikes drove slow, checking down the rows on his side of the field. I did the same on my side, but all I saw was a rabbit and a raccoon skitter out of the way of the car.
After we topped the hill, I saw the upstairs light was on. Mabel wasn't at the window which made me wonder why she left her post. “There's Mabel's crow's nest. She saw several suspects cars go in Alice Hutson's driveway the night she was killed.”
Suddenly, I realized the whole house was lit up. That didn't feel right. “Stop here. We should walk the rest of the way. What if the guy we want came this direction? He'd probably know two defenseless old people live here. Each of them has a car. He could steal one of those.”
We closed the car doors easy, edged up to the house and tiptoed across
the porch to the living room window.
“Old man, get out of that chair and find your car keys. You and me are going for a ride.”
With a measure of surprise, I recognized Bill Hutson's voice before I looked in. Of all the people involved in this case, he was the one I trusted to be a good guy.
“Walker's almost over. Can we wait until I see how the show ends?” Whined Henry.
“Move it, or I'm going to shoot you,” Hutson yelled.
“Don't yell,” Henry said in a hushed voice. “You'll wake Mabel up from her nap. She gets cranky if she gets woke up early.”
Deputy Dikes whispered in my ear, “I'm going around back and come in behind the guy. Keep him busy.”
I nodded as I plastered myself to the wall. “Bill, this is Renee Brown. We need to talk.”
“You again! Come in, but leave your gun out there. If I see it in your hand, I'll shoot you right off,” Hutson threatened.
“Fine.” I dropped my gun on the floor, making sure it made noise. “I'm coming in.” The rusty hinged screen door groaned extra loudly as I stepped inside and raised my hands in the air.
“Stay where you are,” Bill said, waving the gun first at me then at Henry. “I want out of here. You get this old man to get me his car keys.”
“My car is outside. I can give you my keys, but it won't do you much good,” I said. “There are a dozen deputies roaming around the area, looking for you. You might as well give yourself up.”
“Not going to happen. Just shut up the sermon and give me your keys,” he ordered, wavering his gun between Henry and me.
The man was plenty edgy with good reason, and I hated to see the gun pointed at Henry. That would be a bummer if Henry was shot before he saw the end of Walker. I edged in front of the old man's recliner. Now I was the one in Hutson's line of fire as I dangled my car keys. I had to stall, because in a second, all hell was going to break loose.
The deputy edged out of the kitchen on the back side of Bill. Mabel was almost to the bottom step on the stairs behind Bill. She held a beefy wooden cane in her hands like a baseball bat as she eased toward Hutson. Mabel was angry. She wasn't about to let Hutson shoot her Henry.
The deputy froze. He gave me a what do I do now look. If I kept Hutson distracted, maybe Dikes could over power him.
I slipped the keys out of my pocket and dangled them to keep his attention while I talked. “You sure made a sucker out of me. I fell for that line of yours about loving your mother and her meaning so much to you,” I said.
Mabel was a few steps closer than Dikes. Her intent was clear as she gripped the handle of the cane and brought it back over her shoulder.
“I meant all of that,” Hutson said, his face plastered with guilt. “Mom was going to write me out of the will, and imagine at her age, she was thinking about getting married. I couldn't let her give away my inheritance.”
Dikes had crept up almost even with Mabel. He was shaking his head at her, but she glared at him and kept inching forward.
“Fine! Here's my keys. You take them and leave Henry alone,” I demanded.
Mabel brought the cane around fast. Dikes ducked to keep from being grazed by it.
“I'd rather you bring them to me. Get over ...,” Hutson ordered tersely.
That was his last words before Mabel slugged him on the back of the head. The crack, when the cane connected with his skull, sounded life threatening. Hutson's gun exploded, and he thudded against the floor like a fifty pound sack of potatoes.
A burning pain seared deep in my chest as I collapsed backward on top of Henry. I clutched my shirt. Blood poured out of a freshly made hole and oozed between my fingers. Sure enough, it did look the same color as red food coloring.
As if from a long ways off, I heard two whacks. Dikes's handcuffs clicked as he yelled, “Ma'am, quit beating on the man. He's already unconscious.”
“He deserves it. He shot Renee, and he wanted to shoot my Henry,” Mabel retorted.
“Just watch him for me.” Dikes rushed to my side. “Hang in there, Renee. I'll get you an ambulance.”
As everything around me grew fuzzy, I complained, “Dikes, that sucker shot me.”
The old fellow took my landing on him with good humor. His voice had a whole new timber as he whispered in my ear, “Pretty girl, you best find you another place to sit. Mabel will be mad at both of us if you stay on my lap much longer.”
His was the last words I remembered. That and Mabel advancing on me with her cane weapon.
Epilogue
I woke up in ICU in a hospital bed, feeling painful and groggy, just an hour out of surgery. Before I got my eyes to focus, I heard my father fretting in his know it all tone, “This time the ornery little cuss almost got herself killed.
Mom's soothing voice said, “Now calm down, dear. She was just doing her job, and a good thing she did. That man was going to shoot poor old Henry Baxter.”
“So what kind of sense does that make? It was better that he shot my daughter?” Dad snapped.
Needless to say, I was off duty for six weeks, mending from surgery. The surgeon said the bullet came very close to severing an artery near my heart. I spent a week and a half in the hospital.
While I was confined, Mabel and Henry Baxter came to check on me. Mabel hugged me gently. Henry stood behind her silently until Mabel ordered him to speak.
“You get Walker on your television?” He whined.
“I don't know, Henry. I haven't felt much like watching television lately,” I said weakly.
Mabel elbowed her husband in the gut. “What did you come here to say to Renee?”
“Oh, yeah! Thanks for saving my life. Sorry you got shot doing it.” Henry sounded like Mabel had made him memorize his words.
When he came around Mabel to stand close to the bed, I took his hand. “That's all right, Henry. Say when I get up and around, would it be all right if I come out and watch Walker with you?”
“I'd like that fine,” Henry said elatedly. Behind his hand, he whispered, “But you better pick another place to sit. My lap is off limits.” He rolled his eyes toward his wife.
Mabel shook her head, frowning at me. “You shouldn't encourage him, but we do want you to come visit. I owe you that cup of coffee yet.”
“Expect me as soon as the doctor said I can drive again.” The two of them would make me a good set of grandparents.
Briceson stopped by to fill me in on all the suspect confessions about Alice Hutson's killing the sheriff department had acquired.
Once Bill Hutson was conscious he complained he saw double. One of the deputies escorted him to the hospital ER to be examined. Turned out he had a concussion.
When he was interrogated, he admitted he killed his mother. After his wife nagged him to quit catering to Alice Hutson so much, he upset his mother by telling her he wouldn't be out to see her as often.
When he figured out his mother had become a senior citizen man magnet, he was afraid she'd decide to remarry. Bill's sizable inheritance might go to her new husband. That wouldn't do. He had to kill her.
As for all those other visitors, Alice Hutson met with Bradford Cummings and Tom Ryan, one at a time, in the living room like a proper lady. She told Cummings to leave, because she wasn't feeling up to company. When Ryan arrived, she greeted him with the bottle of wine and a cheese and cracker plate.
Cummings's wife, Gloria, was smart enough to know Cummings was chasing after Alice. She drove to the farm to catch them together and slipped up to the living room window in time to see Alice and Tom Ryan kissing. What she missed was when Alice took Ryan upstairs to her bedroom. His stay couldn't have been too long since Alice knew her grandson, Allen, was due about eight.
Gloria parked her car down the road and walked back in the dark to watch for her husband. She didn't see Tom Ryan leave or see the car drive in with lights off. Gloria did hear the gun shot and put two and two together. Of course, her total was very wrong. When the car left the driveway with lights off,
Gloria thought that was Bradford leaving when actually it was Bill Hutson.
It was Bill that cleaned Alice's right hand with a wet towel and wipe the blood and his prints off the gun. He threw the towel in the ditch, thinking he'd be in the clear. He didn't count on Mabel Baxter seeing the car with out lights moving slowly in the dark.
Mad at Bradford and Alice, Gloria marched back to her car. She intended to give Alice a piece of her mind for being a slut, chasing after her husband. She was going to tell Alice to stay away from Bradford.
The back door was unlocked. Gloria marched through the house and upstairs. She turned on the bedroom light. Alice was dead with the gun in her hand.
Gloria knew Alice well enough to be sure the woman wouldn't kill herself. She assumed Bradford was angry for being rejected by Alice. The last thing Gloria wanted was for her husband to be charged with murder and have a scandal black their good name. She had to make sure the police didn't have any proof, so she slipped the gun out of Alice's already clean hand and wiped all the prints off with Alice's hanky.
By the time Allen Hutson arrived, Alice laid in a pool of blood which made a ring around the pistol. In the drugged grandson's pea brain mind, he'd be the one the cops would come after when they found his message on the answering machine. So he left his sorry I can't come message as his alibi.
Two good things came out of me getting shot if you want to think positive. Chief Tollerton didn't have a clue I started that stake out alone. The sheriff took the case out of our hands that night with the capture of Bill Hutson. For once, Briceson kept his mouth shut so I didn't get in trouble. The only problem with that is now I owe him one.
The other thing was Doc brought me flowers. After he gave me a hard time for almost getting killed, he calmed down and has spoiled me rotten. I kind of like the attention. The only problem with that is I can't stay an invalid for much longer. The Wedgewood Police Department can't get along without me.
