by Celia Roman
“Of course, darling. It was thoughtful of you to bring it along.”
I shrugged off my jacket and set to cleaning. Time flies when your hands is busy. Before I knowed it, Trey and Gentry was back, and it was time for me to leave to meet my feller. When I walked out, Gentry was sitting on the couch talking soft and sweet to the critter, and it had its unusually large nose pressed against the cage’s thin, metal bars, like it was hanging on ever word my cousin spake.
Chapter Eight
I parked in front of the Sunday Diner at five minutes after noon. Riley weren’t there yet, so I went on in and sat down at the only free booth in the joint. Eight minutes later, his work truck passed in front of the restaurant’s plate glass window and veered into a parking spot across the street.
Not that I was keeping an eye out for him or nothing.
I flagged down the waitress and ordered sweet tea for both of us, and accepted an apology and a kiss on the cheek from Riley when he moseyed inside and reached the booth.
“Sorry,” he said as he slid into the padded seat opposite me. “I got a call from a friend. Somebody found Lily’s car.”
The guy behind Riley cocked his head toward us, more subtle than I woulda been if I was scratching for gossip. I shook my head once, and bless him, Riley caught the hint and changed the subject.
Now, the thing I liked about the Sunday Diner was, it’s one of the few meat and threes in Rabun County. Sure, you could go to Dillard and eat at the Valley Café or the Cupboard Café, or even the Dillard House, but why drive all the way up there when the next best thing to home cooking was available fifteen minutes closer?
Riley didn’t rightly agree. Soon as we finished a meal accompanied by amiable conversation, none of it touching on Fame or Lily or Ferd, he led me outside away from prying ears and said, “Your meatloaf beats theirs by a mile.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Then why do you keep eating it?”
He grinned down at me and tugged me into a hug. “Because mediocre meatloaf is better than no meatloaf at all.”
I laughed into his chest, the way he intended me to. “Smarty pants. Is that your way of hinting around for me to cook meatloaf on Wednesday?”
“Well, if you insist.”
“Hardy har.”
I turned my face real subtle like into his work polo and breathed him in. Sawdust, forest, and a hint of sweat mingled with his laundry detergent. They was becoming familiar smells to me, comforting even. Maybe I depended on ‘em a mite too much.
I eased away from him on the pretext of meeting his gaze. “Where was Lily’s car found?”
“Popcorn.”
Our neck of the woods, then, and not too far from Cemetery Hill as the crow flies. “Deputy Franks call you?”
Riley’s hands slid down my back and landed on my hips. “Yeah. I owe him a lot for keeping me in the loop.”
“I owe him,” I corrected, gentle and firm. “You reckon he needs a monster chased down or what?”
Riley throwed his head back and laughed hard, and I admired the glimmer of sunlight along his auburn hair. It was redder under the sun, more golden, too, without the darker hints of brown I was used to toying with when we was inside watching TV.
Lordy, I loved that boy’s hair. Always had.
“David invited us to dinner tonight,” I said. “I’m on my way over there now.”
That sobered Riley up right quick. His hands tightened on my waist and them hazel eyes of his glinted something fierce. “You tell him to keep his hands to himself.”
I snorted out a laugh. “You tell him yourself.”
“Why do you have to spend so much time with him?”
“Why you gotta spend so much time watching football over at Conner Robinson’s and such as him?” Soon as the words was out, I softened my voice and added, “Gregory and them’s charges is being presented to the Grand Jury today, down in Gainesville. David asked for my company. I reckon he needs as much of a distraction as I do.”
“Ok. Just…” Riley bent down and touched his forehead to mine, and his breath feathered over my mouth, sweet as honeydew. “Remember whose girl you are.”
“Aw, Riley,” I said, but he shushed me with a tender kiss and I forgot all about teasing him under the raw December sun.
I managed to drag a mite more information about Lily’s car outta Riley before his final kiss goodbye. Seemed some kids was out looking for mud when they shoulda had their butts planted in a classroom. They found a lotta blood, Riley said, and it made at least one of ‘em sick.
Which is what they got for cutting school. Fool kids didn’t know what was good for ‘em if they was neglecting their education that way. Leastwise, it was a free education, and Lord knowed, an enterprising body could do a lot with a little, if they was of a mind.
Henry’d been of a mind, God rest him.
I flinched away from the thought soon as it entered my noggin. Henry was dead. Weren’t no more learning for him, was there?
And them was the only morose thoughts I was gonna allow myself, on top of the ones already stomping through my noggin.
Soon as Riley pulled outta the diner’s parking lot, I texted David and told him I was gonna have a quick look-see at the place where Lily’s car was found. It was a little outta the way, but not so much it’d make me late.
The IROC rumbled along Highway 76 ‘twixt Clayton and Popcorn Road. I turned on the radio and cranked the volume up so’s I could sing along without having to hear my scratchy, off-key voice. The roads was fairly clear. Folks was busy with Christmas shopping and whatnot. The holiday was a little more’n two weeks away, and seemed like ever body was catching the spirit. All the stores was lined with holly, fake pine boughs, and even faker snow. Twinkling snowflakes adorned the streetlights in Clayton, suspended above festive holiday banners. Shoot, even I was beginning to hum in all the excitement of Santa and presents and mistletoe, and I didn’t even like Christmas hardly none to begin with.
Nothing to do with me and the Christ child being on the outs. The holidays was just never celebrated big when I was a kid, and when I was growed, Henry was about the only reason I had for participating. Since my grandma killed him, I been doing squat outside of buying presents for family.
Speaking of, I’d best get a move on. What with all the injuries I suffered under my grandma’s claws, I was so housebound, I hadn’t had time to shop. Maybe I could con BobbiJean into loafering with me to the Mall of Georgia one day here soon. It’d give me an excuse to check on her whilst begging her help to pick out something special for Riley.
Was the first time I was ever gonna have a sweetheart to buy for on Christmas. Might as well do it up right whilst I was in the doing.
First things first, though. Had to get Fame outta this mess, then I could worry on picking out presents for the folks on my list.
Chapter Nine
Deputy Franks was the first person I seen when I got to the crime scene, which turned out to be on an old Forest Service road. He was standing on the side of the road behind Lily’s car looking bored as a dog what lost its only bone. I swerved around him, narrowly missing the drop-off, and parked the IROC on t’other side of his car.
He was standing at my door almost soon as the engine cut off, his freckled face caught between worry and amiable. “Hey, Sunny.”
I got out and eased the car door shut. “Deputy.”
“We’re still going over the scene.”
“I know. Just wanted to gander at it, is all.”
“You and everybody else.” He shifted his hat on his head, then hooked his thumbs in his duty belt. “Is Riley gonna repeat everything I tell him to you?”
I grinned at him, real big. “I don’t know. What you been telling him?”
“Too much apparently. Come on. I can walk you to the campsite, but I can’t let you snoop around.”
“Good enough.”
We set off through the woods along a narrow trail only a local’d be able to find. It wound through thick undergro
wth and downed pines for thirty feet or so before petering out on the banks of a bubbling stream. A rough circle of rocks outlined a fire pit set smack dab in the middle of the flattest spot this side of the water.
Another bored deputy, this’un fresh faced and unfamiliar, leaned against a tree at the conjunction of the trail and the campsite. The county’s investigator knelt beside a long streak of dark brown splashed along the campsite’s earthen floor and across camping equipment scattered willy nilly. He turned when we walked up and nodded to us, then refocused on his work. Taking samples, I figured, given the evidence bag in his gloved hand.
Chills shivered down my spine and I tugged my jacket closer, huddling into myself against the shadowed cold. The blood of my kin by birth and marriage. It was a hard thing to see, no matter how estranged I was with the newly deceased. Lily and Ferd run off a long time ago, or Fame run ‘em off, which amounted to the same thing in the end.
The blood was harder to smell. I was some distance off, fifteen feet at least, yet the coppery tang of blood filled my nostrils, distinct amongst the mingled scents of fresh running water and dry fallen leaves.
I shook it off. Musta been my imagination, that smell. A human nose couldn’t scent blood from that far off, no matter how keen the senses.
I cast around the area real subtle, searching for any sign of something not right outside the huge pools of dried blood dotting the campsite. The tent they’d used was torn to shreds. Clothing was scattered all around it, like a wild animal dug in looking for food. A camp stove was overturned on the other side of the fire pit. A frying pan and a coffee pot lay beyond ‘em, and a lone stadium chair rested upside down to the left.
About ten feet behind the campsite, a dying hemlock guarded the stream. Scratches was scored deep into the trunk about chest high. Something marking its territory? I shook my head and shifted my gaze. No telling what them scratches was ‘til I could examine ‘em up close and personal.
Other’n that, I couldn’t find nothing around the campsite itself. Leastwise, nothing jumped out at me, so I faced the water and searched for signs of the trail picking up on the opposite bank. Sure enough, a wide, bare spot just ahead of me narrowed into what looked like an animal trail. It was just as flat and smooth and narrow as the section we come up on, and twisted around outcroppings of a mottled gray and rust rock a fair distance off.
That way, something whispered in my gut.
The hairs on the back of my neck tingled to attention. I rubbed a hand across my nape, doing not a thing to calm the odd instinct.
“Seen enough?” Deputy Franks asked.
I jumped about half a foot and whirled around on him. “Don’t go sneaking up on a body like that.”
One corner of his mouth lifted into a half grin. “You forgot I was here, didn’t you?”
Yes, I had, but I sure as tootin’ weren’t gonna admit it. “I seen enough.”
That half grin of his blossomed into a whole’un, but being a wise man, Deputy Franks held his tongue. He led me back to the cars, chattering the whole time instead about his wife and kids, and did I know they’d already fingerprinted the car and sent some biological evidence in for testing?
I let him ramble on, all too aware he was telling me stuff he shouldn’t, and so grateful for it, I nearly forgot about the voice what’d whispered to me when I was facing the deep wood.
David was in full chef mode when I finally arrived at his door. I let myself in, certain my knock’d be drowned out by Foreigner blasting at what sounded like full volume.
He was standing at the stove in the kitchen with his back to the door whilst he stirred the contents of a big, aluminum pot. Steam rose from the pot, twisting around in a humid dervish above the stove. I sniffed and caught the scents of shrimp, sausage, and savory herbs I couldn’t identify individually.
I pitched my voice above the music and near about shouted, “Smells good.”
David peered at me over one shoulder, smiling. He dropped a lid onto the pot, set the spoon aside, and picked up a remote control. A moment later, the music’s volume softened to a bearable level.
“Any word on Fame?” he asked.
“Some kids found my aunt’s car. Looks like her and Ferd was camping illegally.”
David tsked and swiped a hand towel off the counter. “I thought you’d be familiar enough with me to feel at home here.”
Well, he had me there. I been over to David’s house a dozen times or more since me and him met at Rhapsody in Rabun back in September. We hung out plenty, and I was comfortable around him. Guess the events of the last coupla days rattled my noggin to the point where I didn’t know up from down.
“Sorry. Long day.” I walked across the hardwood floor and wiggled onto a chair in front of the island. “Any word on the grand jury?”
The teasing smile faded from David’s mouth. “Indicted on all counts.”
That stopped me cold. “Ever body?”
“Every last soul.” He smacked the towel onto the counter and sucked in a huge breath. “Gregory couldn’t even call me himself. I had to hear about it from our lawyer.”
I stretched a hand across the counter toward David, and held on tight when he placed his hand in mine. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault he’s not speaking to me anymore.”
I pinched my lips together in a firm line. Part of it was my fault, the part where I exposed the Greenwood Five’s shenanigans to the public and got ‘em in trouble in the first place. It woulda happened eventually, so I told myself. Only, it was kindly hard believing that when my friend was hurting ‘cause I was the one what’d brought the matter to a head.
Another apology trembled on the tip of my tongue. Instead of blurting it out, I said, “You try calling him again?”
“Again and again. He refuses to…” David glanced up at the ceiling, not before tears glimmered in his hazel eyes. “I should leave him alone.”
I tightened my grip on his hand. “Don’t you dare. You hear me? A love like yourn is too rare to let it go so easy.”
“Is it really?”
“My hand to God.”
He laughed and blinked back them tears, and settled a mischievous gaze on me. “Is that what you tell Riley when you let him kiss you goodnight?”
I dropped his hand like it was scalding hot and crossed my arms over my bitty breasts, ignoring the heat staining my cheeks. “Ain’t none of your beeswax what I tell Riley, David Eckstrom.”
“So formal,” he teased, and that set the mood for the rest of the evening.
I lent a hand with supper whilst waiting for the rest of the crew to get there, in between David whirling me into spur of the minute dances. Riley dragged in first, looking tired and grumpy as a polecat chasing too long after a meal. I sat him down at the bar with a cold beer, then rubbed a hand over his shoulders real gentle like, soothing him ‘bout like he soothed me when I was of a temper.
David shot me a knowing glance. Thankfully, Missy and the boys knocked on the door right about then, and I had an excuse to ignore him and play host in his stead.
‘Specially since Gentry brung the critter with him.
I clucked my tongue and gathered coats from my family, and the six of us spent the next coupla hours eating and chatting and pretending there weren’t a huge gap in the company where Fame shoulda been.
Chapter Ten
The next day, I woke before the sun did and jumped outta bed, too restless to linger even if I was of a mind to. Twenty minutes later, I’d showered and gulped down a quick breakfast, and was hauling mulch up the trail between my trailer and Fame’s, intending to expel the energy jingling through me on manual labor. Cold weather be darned. I needed some fresh air. ‘Sides which, no matter how much work we done to the trail, the weather always wore it down again.
Weren’t half an hour into the chore when my phone buzzed against my butt where I stuffed it into a back pocket for safe keeping. I dropped the rake I was using to spread mulch around Henry�
�s spot and dug my phone out.
Tom Arrowood’s voice answered my hello. “Fame’s officially been arrested.”
I slumped onto the bench set cattycorner to the trail. “When?”
“Last night, after business hours.”
I bit my tongue on a string of curses. One slipped through anyhow. “Son of a bitch.”
Tom cleared his throat. “My thoughts exactly. The District Attorney decided to question Fame.”
“He asked for you?”
“Refused to talk without me there.” Tom sighed and a long creak came through the line, like he was settling into a chair or something. “Refused to talk even after I got there. He’s a stubborn man.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I muttered. “I reckon there’s a laundry list of charges piled up against him, huh?”
“Starting with two counts of murder and ending with a lot of nonsense they’ll never get to stick in front of a jury of Fame’s peers. The grand jury is another matter. They’ll likely indict him on any charge presented to them, on the reasoning that the DA wouldn’t have brought the charge if he didn’t have evidence of Fame committing the crime. Hell, Sunny. I can’t even be present when the DA goes before the grand jury.”
I sucked in frustrated anger and let it out on a harsh breath. Anybody what thought justice was being done in today’s courts didn’t know diddly squat about what was actually going on. Them with the money and favors owed ‘em got by with a whole lot more’n them without, which was most of the populace on any given day. God forbid a lawman had an ax to grind against a man. That only made matters worse.
“Don’t worry, Sunny,” Tom continued. “Most of the charges will be dropped before it ever comes to trial. I’ll make sure of it.”
“How ‘bout making sure he don’t gotta go to trial in the first place?”
“I’ll do my best, but unless the investigator finds evidence that someone else murdered your aunt and uncle, Fame’s still the best suspect.”
