What You See

by Ann Mullen

  “Not this time, honey. Look at the mess around you. You think he wants the cops to see this?”

  I glanced around surveying the damage. “It looks like a war zone. Why would he do something like this? It’s just pure mean. If he’s this destructive and remains so calm, can you imagine what he could do if he was really irked?”

  Rose cracked the door just enough to say, “Please go away. Jay has finally calmed down a little and I don’t want him to go off again. He can be so mean. Please go.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked. I was concerned about her. I’d seen her brother in a fit of anger. He wasn’t a nice person.

  “I’ll be fine. Just go away,” she cried. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad you were here.” She shut the door.

  “What now, Sherlock?” Billy demanded.

  “Don’t call me that. It’s not cute anymore,” I spat. “Do you have your equipment with you?”

  “I sure do,” he said as we walked to the truck. “Why?”

  “Let’s go for a ride. I think now would be a good time to find us a surveillance spot in the woods... again.”

  “Good idea,” he added. “Except this time, we have the shotgun.”

  “Tsk-Tsk. You don’t think that’s the only one he has, do you?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows in jest.

  The day was turning into a scorcher, and I didn’t relish the idea of sitting in the woods with the snakes. The blast from the air-conditioner in Billy’s truck felt wonderful. I tried not to think about the stinging pain in my shoulder, but every pothole in the road was a testament to my agony.

  “Sorry,” Billy said. “Is your shoulder bothering?”

  “I’ll live,” I winced as I replied. “I was going over in my mind what just went down back there.”

  “What’s your take on the situation?”

  “Given all the facts,” I said, “I think that rotten kid is the guilty party. I think he killed Helen Carrolton. Whether it was the antics of a fun time gone wrong, or the actions of a killer, I don’t know. Something feels wrong.” I glanced at Billy. I wanted a sign from him—anything that would indicate he didn’t think I was crazy. “I know I’m not a P.I., and I don’t have all the training and experience you have, but my gut feeling is telling me he’s a bad seed.”

  “And your gut feeling says he’s guilty?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “What about the gas station attendant?”

  Before I could answer, Billy stopped the truck and pointed to the path we’d taken the last time. “You want to try the same spot again, or have you developed a phobia about the place? If you have, I’d understand.”

  “Sorry, pal. There’s no more room in my life for phobias,” I said, joking. “My card is full-up.”

  “Then why don’t we follow this path as far as it goes and see where we come out?”

  “I guess we don’t have anything to lose.”

  The red flash came at us in the blink of an eye. It was Larry Hudgins in his sports car, speeding down the road. He was headed home and he was in a big hurry. Our eyes followed him as he flew by.

  “He sure seems to be in a hurry, doesn’t he?” I asked, making my own share of grunting noises.

  “Big hurry,” Billy agreed as he turned the truck around. “Change of plans. We’re going to take this shotgun back to the rightful owner.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I have a feeling the roof is going to come down in a few minutes.”

  “That’s the whole idea, Jesse.” Billy raised his eyebrows and said, “The element of surprise, my dear Watson.”

  “What next, for Pete’s sake?” I sneered at him. “If you start quoting Shakespeare... I’m leaving.”

  I had the feeling I’d done this before. What’s that word—déjà-vu? Well, it was happening now. The dust had barely settled when I saw the front door close. Larry was definitely in a rush. We slid into a parking space and followed in his path to the front door just in time to hear the lock click. Billy jammed his finger on the doorbell and held it there.

  “Enough!” I screamed. “Are you trying to make him mad?”

  “I’m just trying to get his attention.”

  “It’s working.”

  Rose opened the door and whispered, “What are you doing back? I thought I asked you to leave. This isn’t a good time. Dad just got home and he’s really, really angry. Please go away.”

  “That’s what you said the last time we were here. Is there ever a good time at this house? Where’s your father?” I demanded.

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t try to warn you,” she said. She backed up to let us enter, and then closed the door.

  Billy turned to me, pointed his finger and said, “I want you to behave yourself in here. No more craziness.”

  “You wish!” I teased.

  What a fine team Billy and I were together. We were two adults acting like little kids. Mom would be so proud.

  “I assume you’re here to return my shotgun,” Larry stated as he reached out and took it from Billy. He pointed to the front door. “Now get out of here before I call the cops. I know who you idiots are, so don’t mess with me.”

  As soon as we stepped outside, Larry Hudgins slammed the door.

  “What do we do next, Billy?”

  “We go to Plan B,” he replied.

  This time we were the ones who were in a hurry. We both knew what we were going to do. We had to find a spot so we could listen to every detail of the next few minutes in the Hudgins’ household. Daddy’s wrath was going to emerge, and we wanted to hear it all.

  Confident that we had found the perfect spot to spy, Billy parked his truck at the end of the same path we had visited once before. Except this time, we were in the middle of a grove of cedar trees behind the barn.

  “You don’t think they’ll see the truck from here?” I asked. I was getting nervous. Memories of a not-so-long-ago nightmare bounced back into my head.

  “Calm down,” Billy said as he started digging out his equipment. “Everything’s going to be fine. You worry too much. Now grab that bag.” He pointed to a black bag in the cab. “It’s the dish, so be careful.”

  An hour later, I was ready to call it quits. “What’s going on? They haven’t said a word, not one word. All I hear is that stupid elevator music they’ve been playing. Something’s not right, Billy.” I was getting frustrated. This wasn’t normal.

  “I was hoping he’d think we’d given up and left,” Billy said. “He knew we were here the whole time.”

  “Who knew?”

  “The father knew. He’s no dummy. Come on. Let’s pack it in for the day. We’re wasting our time,” Billy said as he disconnected his equipment. “We’re finished. Let’s go home.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he knew we were out here?” I asked as we packed the equipment.

  “I was going to tell you once, but you’d dozed off.”

  “I did not,” I joked. “I was just resting my eyes!”

  He threw his head back, laughed and said, “Lesson number four: If you think someone’s listening, turn on some music. If you talk low they won’t hear a word you say.”

  “Number four? What happened to one, two and three?”

  “Jesse, you haven’t been paying attention,” he admonished me, beginning his lecture. “You must always be prepared. Suspect and expect anything. Don’t let anyone catch you with your pants down, whether you’re being watched, or you’re the watcher.”

  “Ah, words of wisdom by Billy Blackhawk,” I said, taunting him. “You should write a book.”

  Chapter 22

  Billy had a few ideas of his own. “You might be completely wrong about Jay Hudgins,” he said as we crossed over the South River Bridge heading home. “What about Tom Dorey? Why don’t you suspect him? He could be the guilty one.”

  “He just doesn’t fit the profile.”

  “What do you know about profile? Why, Jesse, have you been studying behind my back?” He was mocking
my southern accent.

  “Honey,” I said, trying to drag out my southern drawl. “I’m no dummy. I watch television!”

  “Tell me what you’ve learned from this great institution of higher learning. I’m dying to hear every detail.”

  “I learned that gut feelings are worth more than words on paper,” I summated. “What you see isn’t always what you get. The Hudgins look like upstanding people on the outside, but on the inside, they have secrets. Secrets they want to keep covered up because they’re dark and dirty.”

  “You don’t think Tom Dorey is dark and dirty?”

  “Look at his dossier. He’s just an average Joe. He’s never been arrested—not even a parking ticket; goes to college; works part-time pumping gas; and tends bar at the downtown mall in Charlottesville. His mind is on his life. He has better things to do than go around killing people.”

  “This is your gut feeling?”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “I might be wrong, but I don’t think so.”

  “Supposed we eliminate Jay and Tom, where would you go from there?”

  “I hadn’t considered that possibility,” I answered as we pulled into the driveway. “I’ll have to think about it for a while.”

  My cell phone rang just as I was picking my handbag up off the truck floor. “Hello,” I said as I got out and walked toward the house.

  “Jesse, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have an emergency,” I heard my sister say. “I didn’t want to call the house because of Mom. I just can’t face her now.”

  “What’s the matter, Claire?”

  “I got arrested two days ago for drunk driving. I didn’t mean to. I was at a club with some of my friends. I didn’t realize I had that much to drink. I’ve been so depressed lately.”

  “Where were the kids when you got arrested?”

  “Oh, they were safe. They were with a sitter. That’s not the point. Carl’s threatening to take away the kids. He says no judge is going to award custody to a drunk. What am I going to do?”

  “Don’t worry about him,” I said. “He’s full of crap. Don’t let him intimidate you.”

  “I’m scared, Jesse.”

  “Listen, Claire. He’s just blowing smoke. Forget about him for now. Are you still planning to come next weekend?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  “Why don’t you pack up the kids and come now. It’ll give us plenty of time to decide what we’re going to do. Mom would love to have you guys here for a whole week.” Without Carl, I thought to myself. “I’ll talk to her and break the news about everything before you arrive.”

  “Thanks, Jesse. I knew I could count on you. That’s a great idea. I’ll get the kids ready. We’ll be there sometime tonight. Carl can just kiss my... well, you know.”

  I held my breath as I walked into the house. Mom was in for a real eye-opener. I just hoped she could handle it.

  Athena greeted us as we went into the kitchen. I bent down and patted her head and said, “You smell good, girl. Did you get a bath?” I looked at Mom and saw a big smile on her face.

  “She sure did,” Mom said. “She got into something nasty, so Cole helped me give her a bath before he left. He put her on top of the picnic table in the backyard and hosed her down with the garden hose. She loved it! It was so funny. You should’ve seen her. Cole was covered with shampoo, and all of us got wet in the end.”

  “You love this dog, don’t you, Mom?” Billy chimed in.

  “Sure, I do,” she replied. “She’s so sweet. How could you not love her? She’s a great companion.”

  We stood there for a few minutes not saying anything. The silence became unbearable.

  “Mom, I have to talk to you,” I said, dreading every moment. “Why don’t you come over here and sit down on the couch?”

  “What’s wrong, dear,” she asked, drying her hands on a dish towel as she walked over to the sofa. “You didn’t get shot at again, did you?” She glanced away from me and looked straight at Billy, giving him a strange look.

  My mouth dropped to my knees. “How did you find out?”

  “I’m a mother. Not much gets by me,” she proudly announced. “Furthermore, Cole’s a lot smarter than you think. He got a call on his cell phone and I overheard every word. It was about you and Billy. The boy who shot you—his father’s lawyer is a friend of someone Cole knows. Cole did some off-the-record snooping and found out all kinds of things. Now he knows everything.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I was afraid you couldn’t handle the truth. Are you mad? Is Cole mad?” I asked.

  “Well, he’s not happy,” she replied. “He wants you to call him.”

  “Rats.”

  “See where lies will get you?”

  “Hmm,” I said, thinking about how to handle this other situation. I guess the truth is the only way. “Mom, Claire has a little problem.” I said, and went on to explain all the dirty details of her relationship with Carl, his infidelities, the fight and subsequent miscarriage of the baby, right down to the drunk driving charge that he was hanging over her head.

  “Poor Claire,” Mom cried. “I have to call her. She needs me.”

  “I just talked to her,” I said. “I convinced her to come home and stay for a while. She’ll be here tonight.”

  “Then I’d better get moving,” she insisted. “I need to get the spare room ready.”

  “What can we do to help?” Billy asked.

  By dinnertime, everything in the spare room had been shoved up against the wall, leaving plenty of room for the sofa bed to be folded out. The kids could sleep with Claire. At their ages, they’d probably love it.

  Billy and I sat at the picnic table discussing the case while Mom fixed hamburgers on the grill.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I commented. “If you exclude Tom Dorey and Jay Hudgins, or anyone in the Hudgins family from the list of suspects, I’d have to go with a serial killer. Who else is left?”

  “Exactly,” he replied. “We need to consider every possibility. We now have her purse, so we can pretty much assume that she’s dead. As soon as I get the report from my friend at the research center, we’ll go tell her parents what we have. They have a right to know.”

  “Are we going to drive to Poquoson?”

  The cell phone that Billy kept hooked on his belt rang. “Uh-huh... Okay... Right... Thanks a lot. I owe you big time,” he said.

  “What was that call about?” I asked. “Was that from your friend who works at the lab?”

  “Yes, it was,” he sighed. “That was Caroline. She says there’s dried blood on the purse that matches the DNA sample of hair the Carroltons supplied to the police. She also said she picked up three separate fingerprints. One of the prints belongs to Helen, and one was her mother’s. The third one has yet to be determined. She’s going to call me back when she comes up with an I.D. on the third one.”

  “Then we got him!” I shouted.

  “Relax,” he said. “It might turn out to be a print that’s not on file.”

  “Not on file? I thought everybody had a print on file somewhere.”

  “Maybe... maybe not,” he replied. “With the advancements we have in the computer age, anything is possible to erase. All you need is a good hacker to do the job.”

  “Scary, isn’t it?”

  I watched as Mom removed the cooked hamburgers from the grill. She placed them to the side, turned off the knobs and reached down and shut off the gas. I was amazed at how self-sufficient she’d become.

  “You’re getting pretty good at that,” I proudly said.

  “Oh, this thing?” she asked, pointing to the grill. “Cole showed me how to operate it. Once you learn how to use it, it’s not so scary anymore.” She walked over to the table and sat down. “Dig in everybody. Oh darn, I forgot the potato salad. Jesse, would you run inside and get it?”

  “And bring the mustard,” Billy added.

  “Who eats mustard on hamburgers?” I a
sked. “That’s gross!”

  I heard the phone ring as soon as I opened the door.

  “Hello,” I answered, stretching the cord to the refrigerator. Carl’s voice was barely audible amongst the static and hissing. “I can’t hear you Carl,” I screamed into the receiver. He was the last person I wanted to talk to and I sure didn’t want him talking to Mom. “Call back later,” I yelled and then hung up the phone. “And drop dead.”

  I walked into the living room and picked up the portable phone. Carl would surely call back, and I wanted to be ready. I took the phone, the potato salad, and the mustard out to the backyard.

  “Was that the phone I heard ring?” Mom asked.

  “Yes,” I nodded. “It was Carl, your beloved son-in-law.”

  “What did he want?”

  “I don’t know. The line was full of static. I told him to call back.”

  I sat down and started piling food onto my plate, pretending to be unaware of any possible dilemma that might be heading our way.

  “If it’s important, he’ll call back. Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

  “You know what he wants. He’s a scumbag.”

  “You called Carl a scumbag!” I was shocked at my mother’s remark. “Since when did Carl become a scumbag?”

  “Since he hurt my baby,” she retorted. “Boy, have I got a few things to say to him! I dare him to call back.” She leaned across the table and grabbed the phone before I had a chance to stop her. “Give me that phone. I’ll show him a thing or two.”

  This was getting nasty. I hadn’t seen my mother this angry in a long time. Carl was in for a good chewing out, and I wanted to be around to hear it. I didn’t want to miss a single word. At the same time, this would be the perfect chance to tell him about my fantasy concerning him and a bear. I had to snicker at the thought.

  Billy leaned over to me and said, “Did we miss something?”

  “No,” I smiled. “It was just something I remembered.”

  The warm June afternoon was pleasant. The cool breeze in the air kept the day from being so hot. Normally, back home, by this time of year, the heat and humidity would drive you inside. By August, you wouldn’t want to go outside, and if you did, it wouldn’t be for long. But here in the mountains it was almost July and you could stay outside all day and not feel like you were going to suffocate.