Who Killed Kasey Hill

by Charlotte Moore

  “It’s fine,” B.J. said. “I’m glad you called. You know there was a shooting yesterday?”

  “Yeah, I heard about that.”

  And we’re pretty sure that the shooter was near the recycling center. One of our officers was here about seven thirty and he notice that the bins were empty. When were you last there?

  “Yesterday morning. We get out early,” he said. “The guy who works with me has another job. We got there a little before six thirty, maybe six forty five. It was pretty much dark still.”

  “Did you see anybody there?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, “Just as we were leaving, there was this guy in a truck coming in with his lights off. You know that alley’s one way, so he had to back up to let us out, and then he got out on the street, he turned and drove off real slow like he had decided not to go there, but the guy who was with me looked back and laughed, said he was backing up to try again. We were laughing because he was being so sneaky and he wasn’t going to find anything when he got there. You know some people try to get stuff out of the bins and go sell it to other recycling places.”

  “What color was the truck?” B.J. asked, sensing the slam-dunk.

  Darby looked alert, and handed her a notebook and a pen.

  “White or silver, I think. It was an older model. Ram, I think. You think this has got something to do with…”

  “Did you get a good look at the driver?” she interrupted, nodding at Darby triumphantly.

  “Yeah, I’d know him anywhere. It was an older guy with a big old mustache. Like I said, he didn’t have his lights on and we almost hit him. Our lights were right in his face.”

  “That’s very helpful,” B.J. said. “Tell me your name again. We may need you as a witness.”

  “Wow,” he said, “Sure thing. It’s Jamie Franklin.”

  B.J. needed somebody who really knew Laurel Grove, so she called Chip Stanley’s house. His wife, Linda, picked up the phone.

  “He’s still asleep,” she said. “These poodles are just fine if that’s what…”

  “Thanks for looking after them,” B.J. said. “I had a question for Chip, but maybe you can help. Do you know an older man with a mustache who drives a silver truck and lives on Dogwood Lane?’

  “Sure,” she said, “But they live on Chinaberry Circle right off Dogwood Lane. It’s the split level ranch house with the gingko tree in front.”

  “What’s his name?” B.J. asked patiently. “The man with the mustache.”

  “Mr. Edgar Hegley,” Linda said. “Miss Floramae’s husband. Why?

  “We think he may have witnessed something,” B.J. said, falling back on a truth from the day before. Linda was known to be an important link in the daily cycle of Laurel Grove gossip.

  “Do you think it would be all right for us to bill Miss Pinky for looking after the poodles,” Linda went on. “We usually charge for boarding.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” B.J. said. “Bye now!”

  Chapter 21

  Floramae Hegley was a large woman with pale blue hair.

  When she answered the door a little after eight thirty, she was wearing a quilted lavender robe and fuzzy blue slippers.

  “What on earth?” Floramae said, looking at B.J. and Darby and then past them at Demetrius, who had pulled his cruiser into the driveway. A sheriff’s office cruiser was on the curb, and Deputy Andrea Dale was heading toward the back yard.

  “Is there a problem?” Floramae asked, looking pale.

  “Could we come in?” B.J. answered. “We’d like to speak to Mr. Hegley.”

  “Oh, uh, Edgar’s not available,” she said, almost shouting as she grasped the doorframe to block the door. “Maybe, he’s out somewhere.”

  A gangly old man wearing nothing but striped pajama pants suddenly appeared in the living room, clearly just out of bed. He was gray-haired and unshaved, with a bushy gray mustache, shaggy gray eyebrows, and gray hair covering his chest.

  “What’s going on?” he asked his wife.

  Floramae went paler. Her eyes went out of focus and Darby caught her, taking her considerable weight and stumbling with her, as B.J. moved into the living room.

  It was wood-paneled and combined feminine taste in slipcovers and carpeting with a hunting trophy over the fireplace. The buck had ten point antlers.

  Edgar Hegley didn’t rush to his wife’s side. He stood quite straight and addressed B.J., “You’re that police woman, right?”

  “I’m Chief B.J. Bandry,” she said. “Mr. Hegley we have a few questions for you.”

  “About what?”

  “Do you own a rifle?”

  His color got high, and then he said, “Used to be a pretty good hunter. Don’t have anything but a hand gun now.”

  Demetrius came through the open doorway, stepping carefully around Darby, who was trying to get Floramae into a sitting position.

  “Andrea found the rifle in the truck,” he told B.J.

  “Mr. Hegley,” B.J. said. “We’re going to take you down to the police station to ask you some questions. You need to get dressed. Capt. Cater, will you please escort Mr. Hegley to his bedroom?”

  “You can put away that pistol,” Hegley said, to Demetrius. “I’m not gonna run off. Y’all better be lookin’ after Floramae.”

  Demetrius didn’t put away his pistol.

  “I just called an ambulance for Mrs. Hegley” Darby called out.

  “Good idea,” B.J. called back. “Get Andrea to follow her and stay there.”

  Edgar Hegley took a long time deciding what to wear, and finally settled on his Sunday best, a gray suit with a white shirt and tie.

  “Twenty five hours,” B.J. thought to herself as she watched him being led to the backseat of Demetrius’ cruiser. “Now, that’s not bad.”

  “I hope the guys in ballistics will get right on it,” Darby said as before he left to head to the sheriff’s office with the rifle. “You think this is your guy?”

  “He sure acted guilty and so did she. They’ve got a kind of family connection with Pinky.”

  “Motive?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” B.J. said. “Maybe Pinky Brayburn can help us with that.”

  “The wife’s okay,” Darby said. “She was coming around and talking when they put her in the ambulance, but we needed to put her somewhere.”

  “Right,” B.J. said. “That was a good move.”

  Evergreen had been feeling chilly, and had put on her old robe. She was having a second cup of coffee when Benton called.

  “I just heard some very strange news,” he said. “Our new receptionist called and said that Edgar Hegley got taken out of his house this morning by the police. She lives over near them—watched the whole thing.”

  “That’s it!” Evergreen said as the puzzle fell into place, “Of course! Edgar’s the wolf! Him with his shaggy gray hair and eyebrows and mustache. That’s what that awful dream was about! He’s the one who shot Pinky!”

  “Mom!” Benton said. “Don’t go doing that dream stuff. Maybe he tried to kill Floramae. Sally said they took her off in an ambulance.”

  “Oh, she probably just had a hissy fit,” Evergreen said. “I guess she had something to have one about if she knew he shot Pinky.”

  Chapter 22

  Edgar Hegley had made it known that he didn’t want an attorney and he wanted his gun back.

  “I wasn’t anywhere near over there,” he told B.J. and Darby as soon as she had finished reading him his rights. “Floramae had to have a colonoscopy and she won’t use the hospital here, so I had to drive her up to the hospital in McFall at the break of day. You just ask them. I was there the whole time, and they want you there when the sun comes up, but they didn’t get started until after noon, and then I drove her over to Annette’s house because she was starving but she won’t let you just buy a hamburg
er. She said Annette would fix her what she wanted, and then she wanted to rest up there and talk to Annette about that luncheon, and we wound up there until after dark.”

  “Annette’s your daughter?” B.J. asked.

  “Yes, our daughter is State Senator Fulton Chase’s wife. They’re not going to think much of your raiding our house.”

  “When you said you weren’t anywhere near ‘over there’, where do you mean?” Darby asked.

  “Near the park,” Hegley said. “I heard that’s where she was shot.”

  “Where who was shot?”

  “Pinky Brayburn.”

  “Why do you think we want to question you about that shooting?” B.J. asked.

  “Well, what else would you have half the county law enforcement out for,” he grumbled.

  “When did you learn she was shot?” Darby asked. “Did you hear that before you left for McFall or afterward?”

  “Late last night. Somebody called Floramae after we got home. They said Pinky got shot in the park, and I told Floramae it was probably somebody shooting at snakes and missed. Now how about let’s getting this over with so I can check on Floramae.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want an attorney?” B.J. asked, thinking about State Senator Fulton Chase looming in the background.

  “I don’t need to pay what they charge when I can speak for myself,” he said. “Y’all got no business botherin’ us about that.”

  “We have a witness.“ B.J. said “He saw somebody matching your description in a truck like the one you have in your garage. This was on the alley that goes down to the water tank and the recycling bins. You started in with your lights off, and had to back out because he and his co-worker were coming out. Then his co-worker said he saw you drive back down the alley. You were also seen by another witness a little while later on Taylor Drive, turning onto Dogwood.”

  He glared at her and then, said, “Well, they’re lying. I was on the way to McFall with Floramae hollerin’ about how hungry she was, and we were in her old Buick.”

  B.J.’s phone buzzed and she checked the text before getting back to Hegley. She listened and heard what she had expected.

  “Mr. Hegley,” she said when she had concluded the call, “I’ve just gotten confirmation from the ballistics experts at the sheriff’s office that a bullet we found at the site of the crime was fired from the rifle we found in your house.”

  Hegley clenched his fist and stared down at the table.

  “You want to start over,” Darby asked. “Take your time. You want an attorney, we can get you one.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes and then he spoke.

  “Well, I guess it could have been me, but it was an accident,” Hegley said, looking more gray than ever. “Yeah, I did make a quick run down there to take some old newspapers and magazines…”

  He stopped and thought a while.

  “Thing is,” he said, after chewing on the corner of his mustache, “I saw a snake in the bushes there, so I went back to my truck and got my gun and shot at it two or three times. I didn’t know until way later on that Pinky got shot.”

  “Why were you down there so early?” Darby asked.

  “Well, that stuff was piling up, and I knew that trip to the hospital with Floramae was going to take the whole day.”

  “And what did you do with the trash?” B.J. asked.

  “Put it in one of those boxes,” he said. “Like I said, that’s why I went down there.”

  “What would you say if I told you the recycling bins had just been emptied before you got there and I they were still empty when our officer was there around seven thirty—after Mrs. Brayburn was shot?”

  “All I’m saying is that I threw it in there,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe somebody took it out. You know there are people who’ll steal anything. Even trash.”

  “Why’d you have your gun with you?” Darby asked.

  “I got a right to have a gun with me,” he said. “I don’t go down there without a gun. I used to work for the water department and I know there’s snakes down there.”

  “You shoot at every snake you see?” B.J. asked.

  “I hate a snake,” Hegley answered. “If I see one, I’m gonna try to kill it.”

  “Did you know that Pinky Brayburn walked her dogs in the park most mornings?” B.J. asked.

  He bowed his head for a moment and seemed to be praying.

  When he looked up he said, “No, I never kept up with her comings and goings, and if it was me who killed her, I’m sorry. She was a nice lady.”

  “Wait a minute,” Darby said. “You didn’t kill her.”

  “She’s not dead,” B.J. said.

  The old man looked surprised. He stared at the table for a while.

  He struck the table with his fist and said, “I want a lawyer.”

  Chapter 23

  “We’ve charged him with aggravated assault,” B.J. told her gathered staff. “Fulton Chase has hired a lawyer named Wayne Sharpley to represent him. They’re talking now.”

  “I can’t believe he thought it was worse when he found out she wasn’t dead,” Demetrius said.

  “Probably he thought he could get off easy for a snake-shooting, and she’s the one who knows there was a motive,” Darby said.

  “Right,” B.J. said. “I asked him who told him she was dead, and he said somebody called Floramae late last night and she was all upset about it. He said maybe they just said she was shot, and Floramae thought that meant she was dead, and he didn’t know who it was that called.”

  “So,” Darby said. “It sounds like they both knew he shot her, but they didn’t know she’d survived.”

  “I can see that.” B.J. said “It was light, and I sure thought she was dead when I first saw her lying there.”

  Chip said. “What if it was a freak accident. He could have been shooting at a snake, and when he saw he’d shot her, he was scared out of his wits, so he took off with Floramae to the hospital and they made up the rest. Why would he try to kill her? Doesn’t make sense.”

  “I don’t have a clue,” B.J. said. “But I do know that Pinky was worried about something.”

  “So what’s next?” Demetrius asked. “Can we interview his wife before he talks to her? I want to know her version of that late night phone call.”

  “Andrea called about that,” B.J. answered. “Floramae Hegley’s still in the ER. They’ve got her on a heart monitor. The nurse said it was probably a panic attack, but they’re trying to reach her doctor to see if there’s a serious heart problem. Anyway, they’re not going to let us question her right now, so maybe we can see if Pinky’s ready to talk.”

  They were just leaving the station to go to the hospital when a red Jaguar screeched to a stop in the parking lot, and a slender blonde got out of her car, and rushed toward them.

  “You’re Chief Bandry, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes, and this is Detective Darby from the Sheriff’s…”

  “I want to see my Daddy right now!” the woman interrupted.

  She was older than she had looked at first glance, probably in her late forties, B.J. thought, and she had been crying.

  “Are you Mr. Hegley’s…” she began.

  “I’m Annette Chase,” the woman said, “And Edgar Hegley is my father. I don’t know what you people think you’re doing, but you’re going to regret it. My parents don’t have one bit of a problem with Pinky Brayburn. She’s practically family. I need to see if Daddy’s all right. You know he’s got congestive heart failure, don’t you? Do you even have his medicine?”

  “Come on then,” B.J. said gently. “I’ll take you back to see him. Have you spoken with your mother? She’s in the emergency room.”

  “I just saw her,” Mrs. Chase said. “She’s the one who had them call me. There’s nothing wrong with her
. It’s Daddy who’s got the bad heart. He probably didn’t even tell you that, and she’s so busy being a drama queen about having the police come to the house that she’s not even thinking…”

  The attorney had apparently heard the rising voice and came out.

  “Hello, Annette,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here. I think your father needs to see a doctor. He’s very distressed and a little confused about the accident with the gun, and he’s not looking well.”

  “I want him hospitalized, Wayne,” she said. “In McFall, please. Not here.”

  “He’s under arrest,” B.J. said. “But we can arrange to have his room secured.”

  Annette Hegley Chase cursed in an extremely unladylike way as she whirled around to face B.J. and Darby.

  “One of you call for an ambulance,” she said. “Tell them he has congestive heart failure and he probably hasn’t had his meds. Dr. Jefferson is his cardiologist. Now, I want to talk with him by myself, and I won’t have anybody asking him one more question. I want him out of this place and he’s certainly not going to spend one night in jail.”

  “Suits me,” B.J. whispered to Darby as they headed back inside. “I don’t want him dying on my watch.”

  Chapter 24

  Evergreen met Quincy just as she reached the hospital lobby.

  “Oh, good,” Quincy said. “I was going over to the police station. Are you going to visit Mom?“

  “I was going to drop by, but if you need to go somewhere, I can wait with her until you come back.“

  “That would be such a help.” Quincy said. “Have you heard about their arresting Edgar Hegley? I want to see that man. I want to ask him why? WHY?”

  “I have heard that,” she said, “Now, you just calm yourself down, Quincy. Nobody’s going to let you talk to Edgar Hegley.”

  Evergreen realized that she needed to know something.

  “Quincy” she asked. “Does your mother know about Edgar’s arrest?”

  No,” she said. “I thought that could wait until she’s stronger. Just see if you can cheer her up a bit. She’s really mopey.”