by Melissa Rees
He wondered at Edgar acceptance of his wife chasing murderers. He only knew Edgar slightly. Like everyone else, he had run into Edgar at various functions throughout the years.
Sliding in his squad car, Dwight pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. He and his wife were invited to Lynn's house over the Christmas season last year. He knew Edgar taught at the University but he couldn't remember what subject or how to get a hold of him. His wife would know. She was always gossiping about someone.
Dwight pulled into his driveway, then sat and gazed at his house. When he and his wife had bought the house ten years ago, he had been happy. They had settled on the two-story white Colonial with dark green shutters because of its location to the grade school.
The front lawn was large and nicely landscaped. The walkway to his house he had paved the year before and looked elegant against the grass. It had been a good house to raise his daughter.
Now there was just he and his wife occupying the home. His daughter, Rebecca, would be attending Texas University in the fall. She and her best friend had already moved down to start jobs before the fall semester began.
It had been very hard on him when he had packed up her things and driven her to Sam Marcos. His only child was already on the path to adulthood. Eighteen seemed way too young to begin that journey.
He wondered briefly if she knew how things were between her mother and him. He hoped not. He wanted her life to be carefree and happy. He never wanted to burden her with his unhappiness.
He climbed out of his car and walked to the back door. He entered the kitchen and looked around. Everything was organized and spotlessly clean. His wife was a clean freak. In the summer months when she was off from teaching school, she tore the house apart, cleaned, and organized.
He walked towards the bedroom and looked in. She had packed all her clothes in boxes and was in the master bath sorting through her make-up when he ambled in.
"Carol, what's going on?"
Straightening, she gazed at him a minute before continuing her task. I’m leaving. I've decided to move in with my mother until we decide what we should do with the house."
Not surprised, he walked to the carefully made bed and sat down. "Is that what you want to do?"
Chewing her lip, she stood straight and looked at him. "Dwight, you have never loved me. We both know that. You married me because I was pregnant with Becky."
Unable to deny the claim, Dwight stared unhappily at the floor. "I care about you."
Tears spilling down her cheeks, she shook her head. "After nineteen years, that’s not enough for either of us."
He looked up and shrugged his shoulders. "Have you told Becky?"
"No. I think we should tell her together. That way, maybe no one has to be the bad guy."
He took a deep breath and stood up. “I’m sorry, Carol. I did my best."
She nodded her head slowly and looked sadly into his eyes. "We both did our best. I still love you, Dwight, I do. I just feel maybe it's time someone loved me back."
Not knowing what else to say, Dwight nodded. Getting up, he looked at his wife of nineteen years and felt a flicker of uncertainty shoot through him. Is this really what he wanted?
He stood watching her, as she picked through her make-up, discarding some in the waste can that she had placed beside the counter, and then sighed. No, she was right. He had never loved her the way she deserved. He said a soft good-bye before walking back to the kitchen and out of the back door.
For the first time in nineteen years he felt hope. Oh, he felt bad, he did. But the fact of the matter was that he had looked forward to this day since Becky's graduation.
He did love Carol, just not in the way she deserved to be loved. Taking a deep breath, he slid into his cruiser. Starting the engine, he headed back to his office.
All of a sudden, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. God forgive him, he felt relieved.
Chapter 29
Billie June turned back to lock the back door of the Post Office. She sniffed back tears that had been falling since the sheriff had left hours ago. She couldn't believe that she had told on Loraine and Lynn.
Loraine was going to have a fit when she found out. But what was she supposed to do? The sheriff had said they could both be killed! Killed!
She had only done what any good Christian would have done. She had protected her friends.
Of course, she had little doubt that Loraine would see it that way. Loraine would be furious. She glanced at her watch, and then sighed. It was time to go pick up the boys and start dinner.
She slid into her SUV and started the engine, then shifted into drive. Heading in the direction of home, she was surprised to discover that she had turned towards town. Pulling up in front of the bakery, she stepped out and hurried inside the front door. Nodding at the girl behind the counter, she ordered two chocolate Bismarck’s and a soda.
She sat down at the back table and spread her chocolate fantasies out in front of her. Popping the tab, she took a long drink, savoring the taste.
She deliberately wiped all thoughts of Teddy and the children out of her mind, and took a big bite of the Bismarck then sighed. Chocolate was her savior, she thought. She didn't drink, she didn't cuss, and she tried to be the perfect wife and mother. She had always been a good Christian. She deserved this. She deserved more.
Wiping her mouth with a paper napkin, she looked around the small shop. She wouldn't mind working in a bakery. She might see if there was a job open when Lynn fired her. Because Lynn would most certainly fire her when she found out Billie June had ratted them out.
She finished her treats and stood up. Feeling better, she threw the garbage and tin can away and walked out to her car. Now she would go pick up the boys.
***
Dwight pulled his cruiser into his parking space at the station and jumped out. Slamming the door, he headed to his office.
He wondered if Carol would be gone by the time he finished his shift. Their house would be his house, for the time it took to get a divorce anyway.
Maybe he should buy Carol's half if she was willing to sell. Her mother lived in Benton. Carol would probably want to buy a house over there eventually.
So many things now to think about and plan. Remembering their wedding and life together just made him feel relived. He could stop pretending. The only good thing that came out of his life so far had been his daughter.
He again wondered if Becky had ever suspected things were not what they appeared to be between her mother and him. He hoped not but he would not be surprised. Becky was a smart girl. He walked into his office and closed the door. Punching in Loraine Pettybone’s cell phone number again, he waited. She would not answer, of course.
He wasn't awfully worried about her and Lynn. He doubted that either one actually wanted to track down a murderer. It probably was a blast searching for clues and hopping planes. They were most likely having the time of their life.
He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk, then picked up the coroner's report.
Warren Jones had a high level of alcohol when he died. Undernourished a little but otherwise in good health. Flipping through the report, he sighed, and then put it down. Nothing really to say who killed him or where he was from. The guy was a mystery.
Dwight had put Warren Jones fingerprints on the police search web site. He would know more if the guy had any priors. He was betting he did. A drifter, who drank to excess, surely would have been arrested at some time in his life.
He swiveled his chair and looked out of the window. He wondered where he would be at Christmas.
***
Billie June parked her car in her in-laws driveway, then picked her way carefully through the old automobile parts that were scattered throughout the yard and up to the back door.
Leaning precariously against the kitchen door was a twenty-Gage shotgun.
Annoyed, Billie June picked the shotgun up and opened the back door. "What is this shotgun doing by
the backdoor?" She asked her mother-in-law, who was busy stirring fried potatoes in an iron skillet.
She glanced over at the gun and shrugged, then turned back to the stove. "Your daddy-in-law left it there when he came back from hunting."
“What’s he hunting now? There's nothing in season?" Billie June asked, placing the gun in rack that hung on a wall in the living room.
"Snakes. The boys said they saw some water-moccasins down by the creek."
"I told you I don't want the boys down there, Etta."
"Ain't going to hurt them none. My boys played down there and they never were hurt."
"Teddy lost a finger down there." Billie June reminded the woman.
"That's cause he shot his finger off. Snakes didn't bite it off."
"Etta, please, I've had a long day. I don't want the boys down there alone."
"Yeah, okay, I’ll try and stop them."
Billie June knew that was all she was going to get in the way of a compromise.
She walked into the hall and yelled. "William, Robert, get on out here. Mommy's running late."
Not hearing a sound, she walked into her husband's old bedroom then stood and watched her boys playing X-Box Live a few minutes before saying. "Turn the game off and get your shoes on." She ordered.
The oldest groaned, before pressing the off button. His brother promptly hit him in the side of his face. "Why did you turn it off?" Bobby screamed, furious with his brother.
"Cause mama said to." Billy snapped back, kicking his brother in the side.
“No, you were losing that's why you turned it off." Bobby screamed again, kicking his brother in the back.
Billie June reached down and grabbed both boys by their T-shirt, then hauled them to her. "You boys stop that fighting this minute and get in the car. Your daddy going to be mad if his dinner is late."
Red faced, they hurried out of the door, taking swipes at each other.
"And don't sit together." Billie June screamed, watching them jump in the back seat, still fighting.
"You all right?" Etta asked, watching her daughter-in-law's face turn a bright red.
“Yes, I'm okay. Just running late and Teddy is going to be mad because his dinner is going to be late."
"That boy don't appreciate all the work you do, that's a fact."
Stunned at her words, Billie June stared at her.
Turning back to stir the potatoes, Etta explained. "You have an important job running an entire post office. I never knew anybody who did that."
Billie June felt better than she had all day. She walked up and hugged her mother-in-law. "Thanks Etta. That makes me feel better."
Etta grinned when she heard the blast of a car horn. "You'd better get on out there before they tear your new car up."
Billie June smiled at her mother-in-law and hurried to her car, then slid in. Maybe she would bake those frozen dinners tonight after all.
Chapter 30
After stepping off the plane at the Savannah Airport, Miss Pettybone paused and took a deep breath. The air itself felt moist and seductive.
She had always heard Savannah boasted that it hid a multitude of sins and sinners. Miss Pettybone believed this was so.
New York had been an interesting city but its unrelenting traffic and continuous influx of people had stretched Miss Pettybone’s nerves. She had not been sorry to leave.
"What time is it?" Miss Pettybone asked, glancing at Lynn.
After a quick look at her watch, Lynn answered, yawning. "It’s after three. We can go straight to the hotel and check in."
After walking out of the airport into the bright sunlight, Miss Pettybone and Lynn gazed around, captivated by the mixture of humans that rushed back and forth around them. Some in business suits, most in colorful clothes suited for the hot humid weather.
They gazed around before deciding to take a carriage taxi from a cheerful black woman. They settled back contently, ready to enjoy the ride.
Turning to look at them, the driver asked where they were from.
"Mississippi." They both replied at the same time.
"My name is August." She said, grinning back at them.
"Like the month?" Lynn wanted to know.
"Yep, you'll probably never guess when my birthday is." She teased. "My mama has very little imagination."
"August is a lovely name." Miss Pettybone said, enjoying the ride.
"Your horse is very pretty." Lynn said, admiring the big black horse. What's his name?"
August turned and grinned at Lynn, and replied. "Blackie. I took after my mama in the imagination department."
Both women laughed and slipped sunglasses on.
"So would you ladies like to hear my spiel?" August asked.
"What spiel?" Lynn asked.
"Why, about the history of Savannah, of course. We Savannah folks are very proud of our city." August said, clucking the horse to move a little faster.
"We would love to hear your spiel." Lynn assured her, sitting back ready to enjoy a history lesson.
"Okay, here comes the story of Savannah." August warned with a smile. "Our beautiful city was founded by General James Edward Oglethorpe in February 1733. He named the state after King George II. Under the original charter, everyone could worship as they pleased, although lawyers and slavery were forbidden from participating. An interesting tidbit, I always thought." She added, and then continued. "Savannah is credited as being the first planned city in America. I bet you ladies didn't know that." She said, then resumed. "Due to economics renaissance brought on by the exportation of cotton, residents built lavish homes and Churches, as you will see if you take one of the tours. Are you tired yet of Savannah?" August asked, giving them the option of a quiet ride.
"No, please continue." Lynn said, smiling.
"Okay, let's see. In 1819, Savannah made worldwide news as the home-port of the steamboat SS Savannah. The Savannah was the first steam powered vessel to cross the Atlantic Ocean." She informed them, waving at a similar carriage passing by.
"After the civil war many freed slaves remained in Savannah and founded their own Churches, schools and communities. Savannah, Georgia's oldest black communities went on to become one of the most historically significant Africa-American cities in the nation. Is that impressive or what?" She asked, guiding the horse in front of the hotel. "And that, ladies is the end of my spiel."
"And perfect timing." Lynn noticed, as she hopped out of the carriage.
"I've been doing this a long time." August laughed.
Lynn handed her cash, then watched as the bellhops gathered their bags out of the back portion of the carriage.
Miss Pettybone stepped out of the carriage and took a deep breath. This city is different, she felt it right away. Savannah felt alive with complex beliefs and elaborate drama. She decided it was going to an interesting visit.
She heaved a sigh, wondering why she went on cruises, when cities like this were within hours of home.
They strolled happily into The Hyatt Regency. Miss Pettybone felt her senses sharpening. This is it; this would be the place they found the murderer of Warren Jones.
After checking in and finding their rooms, Lynn ordered a snack from room service. Then she decided she had to have a shower. Watching the clock, Miss Pettybone counted forty-seven minutes since they checked in.
After another twenty minutes, Miss Pettybone had had enough. Knocking on Lynn's door, she waited impatiently. No answer. Now what?
She decided enough was enough was enough and decided to investigate on her own.
Lynn could stay and shower until her feet shriveled up for all Miss Pettybone cared.
She walked out of the hotel, and grabbed a cab. Leaning over, she glanced at the driver's license that was attached to the visor.
"Scot T, do you know where the Antique Home Show is being held?"
"Sure enough." He said his accent charming.
"That's where you can take me." She informed him.
looked
into the rear-view mirror and smiled. “Where you from?"
"Mississippi."
"I thought you was from somewhere in the south." He said conversationally. "You got some antique worth millions of dollars."
"I wish. No, I'm looking for my stepbrother. He used to work as a roadie for the show."
"You lost a brother? What's his name, maybe I know him."
Miss Pettybone felt guilty about lying and sank back into her seat. "His name? His name is Warren Jones."
"Lots of Jones in the world."
"That's true."
“What's your name?"
“Why do you want my name?"
"Pretty lady like you. Maybe need a cab a lot while you're here."
"You can call me Miss Pettybone, and if I do need a cab, I’ll ask for you." Miss Pettybone promised.
He pulled up and parked in front of a huge brick building. Getting out, she tipped him more than she normally did. A small price to pay for sin number one, she thought.
He gave her a cheerful wave before driving away. Walking into the big convention center, Miss Pettybone followed the signs to the Home Show. Lines and lines of people filled the cavernous area.
Overwhelmed at the multitude of people waiting in line, she searched for someone who looked like they might work there. She had no intention of standing in line, just to ask a few questions.
She grabbed the arm of a young woman as she was racing by. Miss Pettybone ignored the girl's hostile stare and held on.
"You'll have to wait in line like everybody else." The girl said flatly.
"If I had something to show I would. I don't I'm just looking for Mr. Keel and Mr. Wagner."
"Oh, are you a relative or something?" The girl asked, in a better mood.
"My sister is a big fan. I'm supposed to get an autograph from them." She said, cringing at the explanation. She released the girl's arm. "Are they here?"
"Yeah, that's Mr. Keel over by that booth and that's Mr. Wagner talking in front of the television camera."
"Thanks." Miss Pettybone said, watching the young girl hurry away.
