Foolish Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series Book 3)

by Mark de Castrique

  Kevin stood up. “It’s going to be touch and go.”

  Tommy Lee held out his hand. “Better give them up.”

  Kevin reached in his jacket and gave Tommy Lee the two pistols. “Mine’s the only one that’s been fired.”

  My thirty-eight still lay on the pavement where Talbert had dropped it.

  “I’ve radioed Reece to come secure the scene. As soon as they’ve taken Talbert, I’ll drive Kevin and Randall to the station.”

  “What about the guard?” I asked.

  “I called for two ambulances.” Again he looked at my ear. He yelled to the paramedics. “Got room for Barry?”

  One looked over his shoulder. “He can ride up front with me.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Fine, hell. You’re collecting more stitches than a rag doll. You ride with them or you walk out of here. I’ll have them tow your jeep to the funeral home.”

  Kevin held out his wrists. “Better do this by the book, old pal.”

  “Arrest you for shooting an armed killer?”

  Kevin looked at me. We both knew Tommy Lee had missed Talbert dropping his weapon. I started toward the ambulance.

  Tommy Lee caught my arm. “I want a statement from you. Tonight. Come by the department later. We’re going to have more press crawling over us than chiggers in a blackberry patch. I’ll want to get the facts out in the open as fast as I can.”

  “What about Melissa Bigham?”

  “Tell her everything.”

  The paramedics loaded Talbert on a gurney. Plasma hung from an IV pole.

  Kevin watched the paramedics retreat to the ambulance. He turned to me. “You tell the truth. You’re too good a man.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Two miles from Crystal Cascades, my cell phone came within range of a signal. I called Melissa.

  As the connection rang, the ambulance driver turned on the siren.

  “Barry?”

  “Listen.” I held the phone away for a few seconds so she could hear the wail. “I’m in an ambulance with Franklin Talbert headed for the hospital. He’s been shot. Meet me at the emergency room and you’ll get your story.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “A minor cut. No big deal.”

  “I’m on my way. Any restrictions?”

  “Restrictions?”

  “Can the story go to press?”

  “Yes, the sooner the better.” I wanted my version in print. Let Talbert be the one who had to change public opinion.

  “I’ll call the paper and stop them from putting the front page to bed.”

  “And bring some makeup because you’re probably going to be on TV.” I hung up.

  My last remark would set Melissa’s mind whirring. But she’d be the source reporter. I had no intention of letting any of the media chiggers dig into me. Melissa was welcome to as much credit as she could stand. And she’d discovered Randall’s identity on her own.

  The ambulance pulled up in front of the double doors to the emergency room. I remained in the front seat until the attendants whisked Talbert deep inside. I walked in the hospital and stopped at the desk.

  A young nurse was on the phone. “Yes, I’m sure it was him. Gunshot.” She looked at me and dropped her voice. “Call you later.”

  I realized I must have been a sight, standing there with no shirt and a bloody ear. “Hello. I’m Barry Clayton.”

  “Oh, Mr. Clayton. We’ve been expecting you. Dr. Miller said you might be injured. Please have a seat in the waiting room.” She pointed to a door on her left.

  The beautiful people have standing reservations at classy restaurants where they’re always expected. My fame starts and stops with the local emergency room. “Thank you. A woman named Melissa Bigham is meeting me here. If I’m in treatment, please send her back.”

  No one else was in the waiting room. I sat facing the door, assuming Melissa would arrive shortly and we could at least talk in private for awhile. I figured the staff would have their hands full with Talbert.

  In less than two minutes, the door opened. Ray Chandler smiled at me. “I hear you’ve had quite a night.”

  “Why aren’t you in surgery?”

  “I’d just be in the way. Susan and O’Malley are doing all they can. Talbert’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “We did what we could at the scene.”

  “He wouldn’t have a chance otherwise.” Chandler bent down and looked at my ear. “Nasty rip through the cartilage.”

  “I got a little too close to a gun barrel.”

  “Bleeding a lot. Have you been taking something for that first head wound?”

  “Yeah. Tylenol. Thinned my blood, didn’t it?”

  “Let’s get you back where I can numb your ear. Then we’ll patch you up.”

  I stood and felt a little wobbly.

  “You okay?”

  I sure as hell wasn’t going to have Chandler be my crutch. “I’m fine. Please tell the desk where we’ve gone. I’m expecting someone.” I took a step and regained my strength. Outside the door, Chandler told me to walk to the end of the hall while he spoke to the admittance nurse.

  When he rejoined me, his smile was gone. “We’ll take this room at the end.”

  Chandler led the way and then closed the door behind him. He pointed to the patient table. “I want you to lie down so I can clean the wound and apply a topical anesthetic. Then I’ll fully deaden your ear with a hypodermic.”

  “Does Susan know I’m here?”

  “Yes. I had the desk call up to surgery. She was worried about you.”

  I looked around the small space. “Kinda tight. Will you have a nurse too?”

  He glared at me. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but you have a hell of a nerve bringing that woman back here.”

  “I have a nerve?” I didn’t need an anesthetic. The pain in my ear was forgotten. “You’re the one butting in.”

  “Because I care about Susan.”

  “Good. So we’re out in the open.” I stepped away from the table. We were no longer patient and doctor.

  Chandler crossed his arms over his chest and puffed himself to a half-foot height advantage. “I told her not to worry. That you probably weren’t serious.”

  I couldn’t believe this guy. He had the gall to tell Susan what I felt about her. “You’re wrong. I am serious. She means the world to me.”

  “Well, your timing’s for shit. Susan’s up there struggling to save a man’s life and you’re down here only thinking about yourself.”

  My throat constricted and I had to shout the words to get them out. “You pompous asshole. Stay away from me. I’d rather my ear fall off than have you touch it.”

  The door snapped open. “What’s going on?” Susan still wore her scrubs. A surgical mask dangled from her neck and tears glinted in her eyes. “Keep your voices down. The whole hospital can hear you.”

  Chandler and I both took a step back. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what she’d heard.

  Chandler spoke first. “What happened?”

  “We lost him. The bullet hit a rib and fragmented. Bounced around like a pinball. We couldn’t control the bleeding.” She wiped her eyes. Talbert may have been a murdering son of a bitch, but he’d also been her patient.

  Chandler was right about one thing. My timing was for shit.

  Chandler put his arm around Susan’s shoulder. “You did what you could.”

  Susan took a deep breath. “Now would someone explain to me why you’re screaming at each other?”

  I wasn’t going to wait in line behind Ray Chandler, especially while he stood with his arm around my girlfriend. “I’m not giving you up without a fight.”

  “Giving me up? To who?” She looked at Chandler for an explanation.

  Chandler dropped his arm to his side. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

  A commotion broke out in the hall. I recognized the voice of the nurse from the front desk.

  �
�Stop. You’re not allowed back there. Dr. Chandler gave me strict orders.”

  “I’ve got a deadline, and Barry Clayton’s expecting me.” Running footsteps drew closer. Then Melissa Bigham saw us. “Barry, Chandler barred me from coming back.”

  The nurse appeared behind Melissa. “I’m sorry, Dr. Chandler. She wouldn’t listen.”

  Chandler flushed. “That’s okay, Janice. I’ll handle this.”

  The nurse gave a final glare at Melissa and left.

  I gave the same glare to Chandler. “Looks like you’re trying to handle everything.”

  Chandler looked at Susan and then Melissa. “I don’t think this is the time.”

  “This is the perfect time. Admit you told Susan I wasn’t serious about her.”

  Chandler swallowed like his mouth had suddenly filled with sand. “All right. I told Susan I didn’t think you were serious about this woman.” He nodded to Melissa. “Obviously, I was wrong. You are serious about her and I didn’t want Susan to find her with you.”

  The deck was being reshuffled and I wasn’t sure of my cards. “What are you talking about? I’m serious about Susan. I wanted Melissa here because I need to tell her what happened. She’s working under deadline for a story that’s got to make the morning paper.”

  “Oh.” Chandler’s blush deepened. “I thought your relationship was personal.”

  The pieces of the puzzle still didn’t fit. “Why would you care? Seems like you win if I’m involved with Melissa.”

  “I didn’t want to see Susan hurt.”

  Susan looked at Chandler, then at me. “Barry, do you think there is something going on between Ray and me?”

  “Melissa saw you kissing him in the parking lot.” I blurted out the words like I was exposing a junior high romance.

  “Kissing Ray?”

  Everyone turned to Melissa. Standing in the doorway, she clutched her notepad like a shield, and then met Susan eye to eye. “Tuesday. I was at your clinic and I saw the two of you.”

  For a second, both Susan and Chandler were speechless. Then Chandler sighed. “She’s right. Tuesday. That’s when I got the news about the job and I told you at the car.”

  Susan smiled. “Barry, don’t believe everything you hear from a reporter. Ray’s been offered a position at the clinic when he finishes his residency. I’m thrilled for him and the town. I gave him a kiss and a hug.” She frowned at Melissa. “I didn’t realize I was under surveillance.”

  I wanted to shrink into the toes of my shoes. Then I remembered Chandler had started the argument. “So what did you mean when you said you told Susan not to worry?”

  Chandler looked like he hoped for an emergency page. “I didn’t mean anything.”

  “That’s my fault,” Susan said. “I confided in Ray that I thought Melissa was coming on to you and you seemed to like the attention.”

  “What?” Melissa stepped into the room. “Me coming on to Barry? I’ll admit I felt sorry for him. I thought you were dumping him.” She shook her head as if she’d rather have a root canal. “But please, coming on to him?” She turned to me. “I’m sorry, Barry. You’re just not my type.”

  Not exactly the phrases I’d have preferred to hear, but I saw my escape and challenged Susan. “So Melissa’s attention threatened you?”

  “Did Ray threaten you?”

  She had me. “Yes.” I offered Chandler my hand. “Sorry. I was way out of line.”

  Chandler took my hand with a firm grasp, but he didn’t say Susan wasn’t his type. He turned to Melissa. “I hope I haven’t caused you to miss your deadline.”

  “Not if Barry starts talking.”

  Susan stepped close to me and looked at my ear. “His wound needs cleaned and stitched, but he should be able to carry on a conversation while I work. Let me check one thing before he starts talking.”

  Susan removed her surgical cap and mask. She bent down and kissed me. Then she turned to Melissa. “You’ll make your deadline. His lips are working perfectly.”

  It was close to midnight by the time Susan had stitched my ear and I’d told Melissa about the shooting. Susan insisted on driving me to the Sheriff’s Department, where we found Tommy Lee in his office. He looked at the hospital gown I’d commandeered as a shirt and then the pointed bandage covering my ear.

  “You look like the German shepherd pup of someone who could only afford to crop one ear. Do you want a loan to do the other one?”

  “No. This is more distinctive. Like wearing one earring.”

  “I always figured you for an earring kind of guy.” Tommy Lee walked around his desk and extended his hand to Susan. “Sorry about Talbert.”

  “So is Court TV. That would have been quite a show.”

  “Where’s Kevin?” I asked.

  “I sent him home. You just missed Weathers and Millen.”

  “They have anything to add?”

  Tommy Lee walked back to his credenza and poured two cups of black coffee from his pot and gave one to each of us. “Millen only came to keep the general company. Weathers is upset. Randall’s actions shocked him. He knew that Randall idolized his father and Weathers admitted he contributed to that glorification. He’d kept up with the boy out of a sense of loyalty to Jimmy Raven. Got him in West Point and eventually brought him on his staff.”

  I rolled the cup between my hands. “What will happen to Randall?”

  “We’ve got several local charges. Assault on you and Edith Delaney. Two counts of B and E at the funeral home. I’m not sure how to handle body snatching. Technically, who owns a body?”

  “I’m not going to press any charges. Will he face a military court?”

  “Definitely. He took Y’Grok’s body to Fort Jackson under false pretenses. There’ll also be a military inquiry into Jimmy Raven’s death. I’m turning the remains over to Weathers.”

  “And the money?”

  “As far as I’m concerned the money belonged to Y’Grok.”

  I sipped the coffee. The scorched taste would have offended a Starbucks palate, but caffeine was all I cared about. “What did Randall and Kevin say about tonight?”

  Tommy Lee looked exhausted. He turned away to refill his own cup. “Not much about those last few seconds. All Randall will say is Kevin shot Talbert and that Talbert deserved to die. I think he’s disappointed he didn’t pull the trigger.” Tommy Lee took a slow sip from his cup. “And Kevin’s being unusually tight-lipped. Just keeps saying he’s prepared to take the consequences.”

  “Of killing Talbert?”

  Tommy Lee faced me. “You tell me.” His expression showed no signs of conspiracy or complicity. “From what I saw, Kevin had no choice but to shoot. If he hadn’t, Talbert could have killed all of you. So what consequence is he talking about?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t believe Kevin meant to kill Talbert.”

  “Kevin knows better than any of us that you can’t call back a bullet.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. I walked to the credenza and set down my drained cup. “So, how much of a statement do you need?”

  “Pick up from when you got to the condo and carry through the shooting.” Tommy Lee shifted his eye to Susan and back to me. “Shape your statement how you want. Just cover all the facts. You’re all set up in one of the interview rooms. And we got your jeep to the funeral home. One of the deputies even ran it through a car wash.”

  “Thanks. Did you fill the gas tank?”

  Tommy Lee ignored me. “Susan, I can have a deputy run you home if you want to leave Barry your car.”

  “I’ll wait. I want to make sure Barry gets home without hurting himself.”

  Tommy Lee laughed. “Man, that’s a full-time job.” He headed for the interview room. “Come on, Barry, the sooner you get started, the sooner I can get home.”

  I followed him down a corridor to one of two small rooms used for interviews and interrogations. Tommy Lee opened the door and flipped on the overhead light. A table sat in the middle of the room with one ch
air behind it. A blank yellow legal pad and ballpoint pen lay on the surface.

  “Write, sign, and date your statement. Tear off the pages and bring them to me. I’ll have them typed in the morning and you can sign that copy tomorrow afternoon.”

  I walked around the table and sat down. The blank paper stared back at me. I picked up the pen.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The morning sun shone with double intensity, as if making up for two days in hiding. As I drove through a residential section on the outskirts of Gainesboro, the light green of spring burst brilliant from lawns, hedges, and flower gardens. My spirits soared. I wore a dark blue suit, burgundy tie, and clean white shirt that matched the newly dressed bandage on my ear. Uncle Wayne and Freddy Mott were meeting me at Grace Lutheran Church at nine, a full two hours before the service, and I was grateful to be back on familiar ground.

  Grace Lutheran stood at the corner of Church Street and First Avenue. For funerals, the lane nearest the front door was reserved for the hearse and family car. With a double burial, I’d arranged to borrow a second hearse from Williams Funeral Directors in the neighboring county. Wayne and Freddy would each drive one and I’d go back to our funeral home for the family limo as soon as we had the caskets positioned in the sanctuary. Family limo. The only planned family member would now be riding in the second hearse. Instead, I’d offer to take Senator Millen, General Weathers, and Bruce Nickles.

  Half a block from the church, I noticed that cars filled the normally empty spaces. Several television vans and a satellite uplink truck were parked in the lot adjacent to the sanctuary. Logos for area stations, CNN, and NBC were splattered across their sides. Over two hours to the funeral and reporters were already jockeying for position.

  Uncle Wayne and Freddy stood in the street, arguing with a network soundman holding a microphone attached to what looked like a fishing pole. A minivan blocked the spaces where the hearses should park and I could tell this media maggot didn’t want to lose his spot.

  I braked behind a hearse and hopped out. The church’s pastor, Dan Swanson, and the guest minister, Earl Hucksley, hurried down the front steps. For a man of the cloth, Swanson looked like he wanted to belt the news crewman. Flanking the sidewalk were groups of Montagnards and veterans. The banner proclaiming United Dega People was held aloft beside the Rolling Thunder flag.