Lost in Tennessee

by DeVito, Anita

  Emily came into the living room, wiping her hands on a towel. She took the phone out of Kate’s hand. “Tom, it’s Emily. It’s well past time you were done working. Clean up, and get on home. I made my famous fried chicken.” She paused to listen. “Fifteen minutes is just fine.”

  Emily patted Kate’s arm when she returned the phone. “Now, let’s get to work. Jeb, Butch, set the table. John, you have chairs. Katie, you’re with me.”

  Kate grasped Butch’s hand. His mother was making a real effort to be friendly, and Kate wanted to avoid causing another scene. Butch took a step forward, but Kate stilled him with a tug on his hand. She needed to do this.

  “Emily, I know we didn’t get off on the best foot last night, but I want us to be friends.”

  Emily cocked her head in a kind, motherly manner. “Good. I want that, too.”

  Kate’s hand squeezed Butch’s to the bone. “And friends are honest with each other, so I’m going to be honest with you. I can’t cook. I can’t make toast without burning it. Even boiling water puts up a fight.”

  Butch stepped closed to Kate. “I can attest to that, Mama. Katie is a woman of many talents but none in the kitchen.”

  A knowing smile grew on his mother’s kind face. “All new homemakers are like that. It just takes time, practice, and patience. Unpack my bags while I make gravy for the potatoes.”

  Kate looked up at Butch. “Did your mother just imply…?”

  Jeb’s heavy hand fell on Butch’s shoulder. “Yep. I could get used to you as a sister-in-law.”

  The smell of home cooking filled the farmhouse. With so many hands, preparing for dinner was light work. Tom walked in, covered in dirt and smelling like a productive day. “Am I late?”

  Butch set the last plate on the table. “You are officially on time, but go wash up, or Mama won’t let you near the table.

  In minutes, everyone sat at the table in the same seats as the night before. Tom set the tone for the meal telling of the NASCAR idiot who nearly put his Camaro into the basement of an elevator shaft. Jeb topped that with a topless dancer who stopped a would-be robber using only her G-string. Then Butch jumped in with the woman in Dallas who tattooed his face on her breast.

  Kate’s jaw fell open. “Are you so famous you have psycho, obsessed fans?”

  Butch puckered his lips. “Psycho and obsessed might be a bit harsh. Enthusiastic. I have enthusiastic fans. That sounds much better.”

  Jeb cleared his throat and played with his mashed potatoes. “Speaking of psycho and obsessed, I need to talk to you about something. We found Angie’s car and her cell phone.”

  Emily pressed her hand to her heart. “Such a sweet thing. I still can’t believe what happened, and right here. It’s good news you found them, right, Jeb?”

  Butch set his fork down. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

  Jeb let his own fork fall to his plate. “The last call to her was Monday morning at eight thirty-three from a phone in this house.”

  Butch shook his head back and forth slowly. “No. There’s some mistake. I was asleep. I was here by eight and went back to bed. It was too damned early to be up.”

  Jeb angled his chair to face Butch directly. “Did Angie call you Sunday night? A little before ten?”

  “No. No one called after Katie and I came home from the Sly Dog. The phone never rang. I don’t think it rang all day.”

  Jeb sat quietly, his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth, a sign he was thinking. “When was the last time you used the house phone?”

  Butch dropped his elbows to the table and buried his hands in his hair. “I don’t know, Jeb. I usually use my cell phone. I’m not sure I’ve used it since I’ve been back.”

  Jeb pulled out his phone, thumbed through his contacts, pressed a button, and waited.

  Chapter Nine

  The phone didn’t ring. Butch jumped up, his chair falling to the floor with a crash. He ran for the phone, intending to find out why, but Jeb leaped up, cutting him off.

  Butch shoved at his brother. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Don’t touch it, Butch. Don’t touch anything. I want to call some people in. Do I have your permission to search the house? Dad? You, too?”

  Butch stalked away to stand in the picture window. “Goddamn it, Jeb, you sound like the law.”

  “I am the law, and I’ve got to do this legally, or anything I find could be thrown out in court.”

  Butch raised his chin. “And if you do it legally, and someone’s planted something on me, you could use it to hang me.”

  Emily stepped between her sons. “John Michael McCormick, Jr., don’t speak to your brother that way.”

  “It’s all right, Mama.” Jeb rested his hands on his mother’s shoulders. “He’s right. If I found evidence about Angie, it could be used against him.” Jeb looked into his brother’s eyes. “I’m asking you to trust me, Butch. I know I’m just a local sheriff now, but I’m good at this. Let me search the house. I ran through it before, unofficially, but let me do this right.”

  Butch let his hands drop with a heavy slap. This couldn’t be real. But if it was, there was no one Butch wanted on his side more than his brother. He nodded his consent.

  Jeb stood, phone in hand. “Finish your dinner. It’ll take the boys a little while to get here.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Go eat anyway. This is going to take a while.” Jeb crossed to Butch and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. “Who has access to the house?”

  “Is that a serious question? This house hasn’t been locked since the day it was built, just like every other farmhouse in this county.” Butch sighed. That was the problem with good people living in a good place. People shared what they had and borrowed what they needed to get by. Deals were done on a handshake. A thing like murder could change all that.

  Jeb herded Butch back to the table. “Have you noticed anything missing? Out of place?”

  Butch sat, shook his head hard enough to send his long hair flying.

  “Yes you did,” Kate said. “The wrench. The big-assed wrench.”

  Emily cleared her throat. “Language, please.”

  Butch focused on his brother, who looked right back with raised eyebrows.

  “Granddad’s biggest wrench was missing from the workbench. I thought it was there the first weekend I was back, but I can’t be sure. I wasn’t taking inventory, just looking around, but I don’t remember anything being out of place.”

  Jeb pulled his notebook from his shirt pocket and made a note. “Did you ever find it?”

  “Katie did. Inside the tractor.” Butch turned to his father. “That’s why it wouldn’t move that day I tried to use it. Kate had to nearly take the whole tractor apart to find it.”

  John looked at Kate. “How would it get in there?”

  “With help, that’s for sure. The gears were stuck on it. It’s a good thing you guys stopped when you did. I imagine it could have really damaged the machine.”

  Jeb looked between Butch and Kate. “Anything else missing or out of place?”

  Butch ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t have much. I thought I set that picture of all of us on the shelf.” He pointed to a small framed photo of him with his parents and brother. “Mama gave it to me my first night back. I laid it there, but I didn’t set it up.”

  “All right. What else?”

  “I don’t know, Jeb. I don’t. I’ve been messed up since I’ve been back. I keep losing things and forgetting what I’m doing.”

  Kate leaned close to Butch, resting her hand on his knee. “I’ve been around you for nearly a week. You aren’t absent-minded. You haven’t lost anything. Somebody’s doing this to you, and we’re going to figure out who.”

  With a chirpy rap on the door, Trudy walked in carrying a bag in each hand. “Anyone in the mood for ice cream?”

  Butch paced the long porch, his hands shoved so deep in his pockets he could scratch his ankles. The State boys arrived in sh
ort order and picked through the house. His house. That’s what it was.

  “Damn it all. What are they doing in there?” Butch looked through the window to see a pair of armed men going into his grandparents’ bedroom. He paced to the end of the porch, kicking sharply at the post that held the roof.

  Kate came to stand next to him, staring into the rainy night. “Add that to the list.”

  “Add what?” Butch looked down into scheming eyes that sparkled in the ambient light.

  A smile grew to match. “The porch.”

  Tom stepped to Butch’s left side, a big hand thumping his shoulder. “A kick-ass porch. It’s on the list.” Tom hopped to the ground despite the rain.

  Kate winked and followed him. “The kick-ass goes without saying. It’ll be one of ours, after all.”

  His mother and father broke off from a conversation with Trudy and Hyde, distracted by the pair squatting on the soft ground. His mother looked at Butch in a silent question then put it directly to the cousins. “What are you two talking about?”

  Kate stood and flashed Emily a pure, fun-loving grin. “Ideas.”

  John slipped out of his light jacket to drape it across his wife’s shoulders. “Come to the big house. Standing out in the rain isn’t helping anyone.”

  At his own dining room table, John sat huddled with Kate and Tom. “I never liked the bedrooms myself. Too danged small and no closets. Of course, when I was growing up in that house, we didn’t have a lot of stuff to put into closets.”

  Kate bounced in her seat. “It sounds like your son has a lot of stuff—”

  “I don’t need it,” Butch snapped from a corner of the room. The position let him keep an eye on the front door for his brother and on the conspiracy developing at the dining room table but didn’t invite conversation. He abandoned his position, crossed into the living room, and stared out the front window. In the dark, wet night, the window reflected back the tight face of an angry man. He didn’t recognize himself in that face. He looked at Kate in the reflection, already regretting the way he snapped at her.

  She met his gaze and gave him a private smile. She hid her mouth from prying eyes and blew him a kiss. Butch reveled in the intimacy of being close to her.

  “Of course you’re fine.” Trudy sat curled up in an armchair, content as a cat. “You never needed anything California had to offer.”

  Butch snorted. He turned around, leaning against the window frame and looking at Trudy. He didn’t waste his breath on an argument.

  “I’m serious, Butchy. You can travel around the world fifty times, and you aren’t going to find any place as good as home.”

  Hyde saved Butch from the fruitless conversation when he finished his second bowl of ice cream and changed the topic. “I should finish your Shelby tomorrow, Little Red. That’s a sweet ride you got.”

  “No shit.” Kate jumped to her feet and did a quick shuffle. “Really? You wouldn’t be messing with me, would you?”

  “I’ve messed with many a pretty lady, but never you. I’ll bring her over when she’s done.”

  Trudy wrinkled her nose. “It’s going to rain. It’s supposed to rain all night and all day tomorrow, too.”

  Hyde shrugged dismissively. “Won’t slow us down much.”

  Katie danced and spun to face Tom. “What do you want to do?”

  Tom tilted his head back, gaze to the ceiling. “I need things. I was planning to come down here, slap you around a bit, and go back up to Michigan. I didn’t pack enough to stay.”

  Katie grabbed two fists of her cousin’s shirt and shook him, although he didn’t move. “A mall? You want to go to a mall? We finally have a day off. Let’s do something fun.”

  Hyde scraped his empty bowl, licked his spoon again. “Aren’t you two just a little too happy about a rainy day?”

  Tom unwrapped Kate’s fingers from his shirt. “Our fathers worked every day it didn’t rain. Sun, clouds, wind, cold, heat. But not when it rained. Those were our holidays.”

  Kate crossed her arms and pouted at her cousin. “And you want to spend this one at the mall.”

  Trudy unwound her long legs and rose from the chair like royalty. “I’ll go with you, Tom. We’ll shop, and I’ll show you all my favorite places. You’ll see why this is the best county in the state.” She tossed her hair back and graced Tom with her homecoming queen smile.

  The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched. “Any day with a beautiful woman is a sunny day to me.”

  Trudy beamed at Tom while behind his back, Katie gagged.

  Hyde took the truly empty bowl to the kitchen. “We’ll get the Shelby on her feet in the morning. By then, Butch will have his sorry ass out of bed. He’ll keep you company, won’t you?”

  Headlights wound up the long drive, cutting through the veil of rain. Butch grabbed the curtains. “He’s here.”

  Jeb stepped into the light spilling from the big house. His head hung low, and rain bounced off his hood. The sagging shoulders and slow strides made Butch swallow hard. Good news did not come from body language like that.

  Jeb stepped onto the porch, shook off the water, and entered the house. He raised his hood, showing his blank face. “Hyde, take Trudy home.”

  Trudy ran to Butch, her hands on his forearm. “I want to stay.”

  “Go on home, Trudy.” Butch looked over Trudy’s head, his gaze on his brother’s face. He knew they found something. “Go.”

  Trudy tossed her hair with a small hmph. “Are they staying?”

  Hyde slid his hat on. “Come on, Trudy. You heard the sheriff. Little Red, I’ll see you in the morning.” Hyde swept his arm around Trudy’s waist and ushered her into the rain.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow, Tom,” Trudy shouted as Jeb shut the door behind them.

  “Tell me,” Butch demanded.

  Jeb sank heavily into a living room chair. John came into the living room, as did Kate and Tom, but no one came between the brothers.

  “Was someone in my house?”

  “I think so. We got a partial. Did any of you touch the family picture on the shelf or the phone in Granddad’s room?”

  Tom held up his hands in innocence. “I didn’t touch any phone or any photo in any room.”

  Kate crossed her heart. “Me neither.”

  Butch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I handled the picture, but I didn’t remember there was a phone in Granddad’s room. I took some chairs and a table out of the room, but there wasn’t a phone on them.”

  “I need prints for you, Kate, and Tom. To eliminate you.”

  His brother wanted to eliminate him. Butch felt like doing a little “eliminating” himself. Instead, he simply said, “Fine.”

  When Kate started to nod, Tom rested his hand on her forearm. “I want to help, Jeb, I do. But I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m not so sure Kate and I should be giving our fingerprints without talking to someone.”

  “Tom—”

  Jeb rose to his feet, and his movement interrupted Kate’s argument. His hands ran over his buzz cut. “It’s all right. Call your attorney. He can come down with you if you like. Butch, call Finch. I hope to God you don’t need a lawyer, but you’re going to need your agent. Your ex-wife getting murdered in the field behind your house isn’t going to stay a small-town secret much longer.”

  Emily had come down the stairs, a knit blanket draped over her arm. “Do y’all want to sleep here tonight? Kate can take the guest room and—”

  “No. I’m not getting chased out of my house.” Butch held his chin high, making sure everyone in that room heard what he said. “I’m sleeping in my own bed.”

  Kate threaded her arm through Butch’s. “Then let’s go. I’ve had enough intrigue for one night.”

  “If you’re going, I’m going.” Tom held out his hand to John. “Thank you, sir.”

  John shook the strong hand, the muscles in his forearms straining. “We’ll talk more about that little project for Butch’s house. Jeb, you
staying or going?”

  Butch stood defiant, Kate and Tom on his flanks.

  Jeb rolled his eyes and almost smiled. “Going. Somebody has to keep an eye on the boy and the two city slickers.”

  Kate woke to soft light and a muted percussion. The hushed sound of the soft, spring rain tugged at her to get up to play. Kate stretched, but a heavy weight across her waist held her in place. Sprawled beside her, Butch held on like a possessive child with his teddy bear. Kate slowly turned to face him. Butch was a handsome man, and in his sleep he looked like a model for a Greek statue. He could model for Apollo, with his long, sun-bleached curls. Kate drew her fingers across his full lips, unable to resist touching him. His dusty-blue eyes fluttered, opening to hers. He smiled dozily, snuggled into her, and soon snored lightly.

  Kate lay there staring at the ceiling while the rain played on. She turned her head to kiss his cheek. Why did she feel so comfortable with him? She should be freaked out with Angie’s murder, but she knew Butch had nothing to do with it. She trusted him innately.

  All the men she knew were either loud, crude, over educated, or brilliant, or in the case of her family, all of the above. It was a refreshing change to be with a man who did his own thing on his own time table, without all the noise. He may sleep away perfectly good mornings, but he didn’t just follow in someone else’s footsteps. He made his own way.

  Kate savored the intimacy of sharing Butch’s bed. She never shared a man’s bed without sex being first and foremost. It was exquisite torture having his body this close. Together, yet apart. Her body ached. Her breasts, the junction of her thighs, the muscles of her stomach craved him. And yet, there was something perfect about this. Kate closed her eyes and breathed him in. She willed herself back to sleep. It was, after all, her day off.

  Crap, she was awake.

  Kate bounced into the kitchen. The cold shower had taken the edge off just enough that she could think without imagining Butch au natural.

  Jeb laughed from his seat next to the kitchen window, an empty plate in front of him. “Don’t you two know what sleeping in means?”

  “It’s nearly eight-thirty. I slept in over two hours.” She poured a cup of coffee.