by Melissa Rees
She found a quiet spot so she could survey them. She wished fervently for binoculars. If she stayed in the detecting business long, she would need equipment, she decided. Trying to appear nonchalant, she studied the two men. Neither one looked like a murderer.
Mr. Keel looked like he was in his late twenties, early thirties. His slim elegant body was dressed in a charcoal suit. He wore his stylishly blonde hair slicked back on his head and had a nicely tanned face. He looked like a schoolteacher. Smiling and patient, with just the right touch of humor.
Mr. Aaron Wagner was the larger of the two. Tall and big boned, he had black hair that was cut stylishly. He reminded Miss Pettybone of a banker. His suit was dark like Keels, only he had introduced a bit of color with a natty red handkerchief that stuck out of a pocket in his suit. He looked to be in his thirties, maybe a little older.
Neither one looked like they were capable of murdering Warren Jones or trying to murder her.
She frowned in thought and tried to think of a way to meet them casually. Miss Pettybone knew enough about detecting to know she should have had some tricks up her sleeve. But she didn't. She would have to think about it. Turning, she headed back to the hotel. At least, now she knew what they looked like.
Chapter 31
Dwight sleepily reached over to shut the alarm off, and then eased off the bed, careful not to disturb Carol. With a small shock of awareness, he remembered she wasn't lying next to him.
He turned the lamp on and looked over to her side of the bed. He had not rolled over to that side all night. He wondered how long it would be before he felt comfortable enough to use the whole bed. Pushing himself up, he walked into the bathroom, turned the water on and adjusted the temperature.
He shrugged off pajama bottoms before stepping into the shower. He let the cold stream of water shock him awake, while he thought about his first night alone as a free man.
He had really enjoyed himself. He had thrown a steak on the grill for dinner. Fixed himself a salad, which he ate standing up over the kitchen sink?
After finishing his meal, he had wandered into the living room and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He felt relaxed and content. He spent the night drinking beer and watching the sports channel. He hoped Carol had as good a night.
He stepped out of the shower, dried off, dressed in his uniform and then headed downstairs.
Not quite sure how to work the coffee maker, he shook some coffee grounds into a cup and poured in hot water from the sink. Taking a sip, he grimaced. Carol had always programmed the coffee pot for him the night before. He would have to learn to make his own coffee from now on.
He glanced around the neat clean kitchen thinking of his wife, and then sighed. He wasn't sorry that it ended, he was just sorry that Carol was hurt. Shrugging, he walked out of the kitchen and down the driveway for the paper. The sun was rising in the east. It was going to be another hot day.
He spread the paper out on the kitchen table and pursued through it, sipping his God-awful tasting coffee. Glancing at his watch, he stood and gathered the papers together, then placed them in the recycling bin that Carol had installed under the counter. He dumped the remainder of his coffee in the garbage disposal before walking out.
The humidity and the heat enveloped him like a sauna. Dwight glanced idly around his silent neighborhood before turning to lock the kitchen door. He ambled to his patrol car and slid in. Glancing over at his new black Dodge Ram, he noticed it was sporting a thin layer of dust. He would wash his truck after work, he decided, and then thought how weird it felt not having to ask his wife if she had anything planned. He backed out of the driveway and headed into town whistling.
***
He stopped briefly at "The Bent Twist Cafe," where he ordered a large coffee and talked to Jewel a few minutes about the weather, gradually becoming uncomfortably aware that everyone in the small cafe was watching him. They had probably already heard that Carol moved in with her mother.
He waved a good-bye to the cafe in general and drove to the station. Pulling into his parking spot, he jumped out, and then walked into his office. He slipped in the back door, hoping to avoid any nosy questions about Carol.
Seated in his office chair, his feet propped upon his desk, he began the daily ritual of reading of the morning reports. More content than he could ever remember feeling, he sipped his coffee, hoping the day would be uneventful.
When he heard a knock on his door, he sighed. So much for peace and quiet.
Getting up off his chair, he walked to the door and opened it to an obviously distressed day dispatcher.
“What’s going on, Sandi?"
"I think you should turn your radio up, Sheriff. Randal just called in with a shooting."
"A shooting?" Dwight repeated, stalking behind his desk. Turning up the radio volume, he grabbed a mike and pressed the lever.
"Randal, this is Sheriff Caruthers. Come back."
"Sheriff, I'm at 314 Mission Street. I have an ambulance in route. But I am in need of assistance."
"Ten-four, I am on the move."
"Ten-four." Randal radioed back and the radio went silent.
He straightened and looked at Sandi.
She was wide eyed with fear. "That's Nora and Lenny Crabtree's address, isn't it?" She asked.
Dwight looked at her and shrugged. He sent a silent prayer to the heavens that no one was dead before running out of his office. Jumping into his squad car, he flipped the sirens on and headed in the direction of Mission Street.
When he pulled in behind Randal's squad car, he mentally prepared himself for the worst. Like everybody else in town, he was well aware of Lester Crabtree's affair with Susie Wilson. He had known from the start that it was an explosive situation just waiting for a spark to ignite it.
He gazed at the beautiful old brick home and wondered what he would find inside.
Nothing to do but see for himself. He jumped out and hurried inside. Spotting Nora sitting in a wing-backed chair in the living room, he walked over and bent down. Taking her hand, he rubbed it gently. "Nora, are you okay?"
Her eyes were unfocused and wild. Her face wet with tears. Nora only stared at him. Turning, he saw Randal had hurried into the room. He gave Dwight a nod towards the kitchen area. Dwight stood up, patted Nora softly on her shoulder and then followed Randal towards the back of the house. He held his breath and walked into the kitchen.
Lester lay on his stomach, his head resting on folded arms. Blood spotted a white dishtowel that was lying over the seat of his pants.
Lester looked up when the sheriff came in. "Do you see what she did? She shot me in the ass?"
"In all fairness, Lenny, she was aiming for the front part of your behind. You are lucky you turned around when you did." Randal remarked, trying not to grin.
Randal turned towards the sheriff. "Looks like she shot him with some buck salt."
Dwight kept a blank face as he bent down and patted Lester on the shoulder. "How you doing, Lenny?"
"Hurts like Hell." Lenny complained, looking embarrassed.
"What happened?"
"Nora went nuts. I came in this morning and she went crazy and shot me."
"Where you out all night?" Dwight asked.
"Yea, but I wasn't drinking."
"But you were out all night?"
"Sure, Dwight. But that's no reason to shoot me in the ass."
Dwight stood up and glanced towards the living room. Shaking his head sadly, he looked at his deputy. "I hear the ambulance. You follow it on to the hospital."
Randal nodded, and then shot the sheriff an amused smile before looking down at the man lying prone on the hard ceramic floor.
"Lenny, do you want to file charges against Nora?" Dwight asked.
"File charges?" Lenny repeated, looking up.
"If you are going to press charges, then I will have to arrest Nora and she'll be in jail until she can go before the judge." Dwight explained making sure Lenny realized that his wife
of thirty-years would be held in jail for an indefinite amount of time.
Lester looked down at his hands and muttered. "No, I'm not going to press charges against my own wife, Dwight."
Relieved, Dwight walked back into the living room and knelt down beside Nora.
"Nora, honey, look at me."
Nora lifted her head and gazed at him with unhappy eyes.
“Lenny's not going to press charges. I think you need to go to the hospital and get checked out, just to make sure you are okay. I’ll call your sister. Okay?" Dwight spoke slowly, unsure how much Nora understood about what happened.
She nodded a couple of times, and then bent her head. She seemed unaware that her body was shaking so hard that Dwight was afraid she would vibrate right off the chair. She stared at her hands that were properly folded in her lap.
Dwight stood up and walked to the phone. Picking up the phone book, he flipped through the pages until he found Bess Gilbert's number. Dialing it, he explained what had happened and told her to go straight to the hospital. Afterwards he placed a quick call to the station and informed Sandi that there were no fatalities.
Dwight walked back into the kitchen and watched as paramedics lifted Lenny onto the gurney and wheel him out the back door.
He locked the door behind Randal and the paramedics, and then hurried back into the living room. Pulling Nora gently to her feet, he placed a protective arm around her as he led her to his cruiser and helped her into the front seat.
He shut the car-door, then hurried to the front entrance of the house and flipped the lock before pulling the door closed. Jogging to his car, he started the engine and headed towards the hospital.
***
Not knowing what to say to the distressed woman sitting silently beside him, Dwight gathered his thoughts. No one was dead. Lenny would have a real sore butt for time but it was a whole lot better situation than he originally thought. He picked up the mike and radioed the station...
"Go ahead." Sandi came back, a question in her tone.
"Please get a hold of Steve at the hardware store and explain what happened. Tell him to meet us at the hospital."
"Ten-four." She said, worried about Nora but unable to question the chief on the radio. "Any serious injuries?"
"Negative." He returned a warning in his voice.
Dwight knew many of the folks in town owned CB's and had them tuned to the police frequency twenty-four seven.
He parked behind the ambulance and jumped out, then hurried around his car. Pulling open the passenger's side door, he helped Nora out.
They watched silently as the paramedics pulled the gurney out of the back of the ambulance. Dwight felt Nora stiffen beside him.
When he glanced over, he saw that her face had turned completely white. He grabbed hold of her as she pitched forward in a dead faint. Holding her upright, he yelled at the nurse who was standing beside the ambulance. She hurried over and grabbed Nora's arm. Between the two of them, they carried her into the hospital and deposited her on a bed in the emergency room. Dwight watched as emergency personnel pushed Lenny into the next cubical.
When he gazed down, he met Nora's miserable eyes. Lifting her hand, he held it in his own. "He's alright, Nora. He'll have a sore butt for a while but he’s all right. It’s a good think you loaded the shotgun with buck salt, otherwise it would be a lot worse."
Motioning him down, she whispered. "I didn't put buck salt in it. I thought it was loaded."
***
Dwight walked back into his office a couple hours later wondering what he should do about Nora's confession. He felt sorry for her, he did. Still, she had tried to seriously injure her husband.
When he heard a commotion in the front of the station, he strolled out to see what was going on. Sandi was trying to prevent a young blonde-haired woman from getting into his office.
"I know my rights." The woman yelled. "I demand to see the sheriff."
Dwight raised an eyebrow when he recognized Susie Wilson. He walked over to stand beside Sandi and asked. "What can I do for you, Susie?"
"I went up to the hospital and they wouldn't let me see Lenny." She snapped. "I mean, how dare they? We are going to be married and they said I couldn't see him."
Dwight looked thoughtful for a few minutes before waving a hand. "Come into my office so we can talk."
Susie threw Sandi an indignant sneer, which Sandi threw right back. Tilting her chin, Susie followed the sheriff back into his office.
Dwight gestured her to take a seat, then walked behind his desk and sat down. "Now, what's the problem?"
"They won't let me see Lenny."
"Who won't let you see him?"
"The hospital, his son."
"They probably won't let anyone see him except for his immediate family." Dwight explained, leaning back into his chair, studying the woman sitting across from him. "How did you hear about it so fast?"
"My uncle has a CB."
Dwight nodded to show he understood. Trying to think of what he should say, he leaned casually forward in his seat and stared at the younger woman. "Do you know what happened?"
"Of course, I do." Susie scoffed. "That crazy bitch shot my Lenny."
"First of all, Susie. Lenny doesn't actually belong to you. He and Nora have been married more years then you have been alive."
Susie narrowed her eyes and stared at the man sitting in front of her. "He's going to divorce her."
"Yea, then what?"
"Why, me and him are getting hitched."
Dwight made a steeple with his fingers and looked her over. "So he’s going to move into your trailer and you and Lenny are going to live happily ever after."
"Something likes that." She said. "I love Lenny and he loves me. Besides, we'll only live in the trailer long enough for him to build me a house. A bigger one than he has now."
I don't think you love Lenny, Susie. You see, I know for a fact that you are still seeing that Smith boy. Let's be honest. You only want Lenny for his money."
"So, what do you think he wants me for?" She asked, brushing a hand across her chest.
"You're right; he’s an old man who wants to feel young again. But that doesn't mean he'll marry you."
"If he wants any more of me, he will." She warned.
“Why don't you leave him alone? You're hurting a very nice lady."
"Nice lady! Don't make me laugh. She shot him in the ass."
Dwight looked at her and sighed. "You know, I've been wondering what you ever saw in Lenny Crabtree. He is thirty-years older than you are. He's out of shape and he talks with a lisp. There are a lot more men in town that has as much or more money than Lenny? So, what's the attraction?"
"He's nice to me."
"Nice to you?" Dwight asked, looking skeptical.
"Yea, he’s nice to me, sheriff. He treats me like a lady. And he wants to marry me."
"I don't think that's why." Dwight said, leaning back. "I think you believe he’s an easy mark. He is vulnerable because he’s getting older. And you don't have to put a lot of effort into him."
"They ain't no law against screwing a married man, is they sheriff?" She asked, grinning slyly.
"No, there's no law against screwing a married man unless you are getting paid for it."
"You trying to blackmail me."
"Not at all. Although I have been hearing a flurry of rumors about you. Someone told one of my deputies that you been getting paid for some backseat loving."
"That's a lie." She screamed. "I ain't getting paid by Lenny."
"I didn't say Lenny." Dwight pointed out, watching her fascinated. She was good looking in a smutty kind of way, he acknowledged to himself. Small, not even five foot tall, she had fuzzy blonde hair and large baby blue eyes. Her face was round, which would most likely run to fat later on in life, he figured. Her nose turned up at the end. He could see where someone like Lenny would be attracted to her.
"If you scream again," He warned. "I’ll have to arrest you for
disturbing the peace."
"You can't keep me away from Lenny."
"Of course not." He agreed.
She sat in the chair and stared resentfully at him, weighing the odds of him investigating her. Furious, she decided he would probably do something like that if she didn't dump Lenny. "If I dump him, you gonna to leave me alone?"
"As long as you're not doing anything illegal."
"Then we have a deal?"
"What deal?" He asked, careful not to agree to anything.
Enraged, she stood up. "I was getting tired of him anyway. Old man breath, old man hands." She snorted, and then looked at him. "I hear your woman moved out. Couldn't take you anymore, huh?"
Dwight gave a bark of laughter and stood up. "You need to get a move on. Although I'm glad we had this chance to talk."
She jumped up and twirled, giving him an eyeful, before marching out of the room.
Chapter 32
Miss Pettybone walked towards her hotel room, pulling her blouse away from her body. Her clothes had stuck to her all day. The humidity in Savannah was intense. The dampness caused her hair to stick to her scalp like spaghetti. A shower would cool her off. Plus, she always thought better when she was cool and had a Diet Pepsi in front of her.
She keyed her door open and threw her purse on the bed. Hearing a knock, Miss Pettybone turned towards the door. She heard Lynn's voice come dimly through the steel entrance way. Pulling the door open, she watched Lynn brush by her.
"Where were you?" Lynn demanded.
"I went to see if I could find the show. Why?"
"Why? Because I was worried, that's why."
"You were taking too long to shower."
"I took half an hour."
"I didn't want to wait hours while you dressed."
"Loraine, you could have at least left me a message."
“I’m sorry; I should have left you a message." Miss Pettybone apologized.
"I can tell you're not sorry at all."
"Lynn, I am. If you were worried, then truly I'm sorry."
"Okay." Lynn said, happy again. Lynn was one of the few people Miss Pettybone knew that stayed even- tempered most of the time.
