Six Feet Under

by Tonya Kappes

  I glared.

  “Thanks, Danny. I’m sorry about earlier. I’m just narrowing things down.” I hung up the phone and looked at Poppa. “They are illegally squatting here and doing Botox, plus these.” I pointed to the tags.

  “Now you go get them.” Poppa marched to the door.

  “You’re right, but first I need to call Betty so she’ll be on the ready in case I need some backup.” I scrolled down to the dispatch and pushed the call button. I quickly explained to Betty what I was doing and that I’d probably be bringing in two women to stick in the jail, so I’d need her to make a call to the sheriff in Clay’s Ferry to let them know to expect a couple of transfers. They had a bigger jail that was equipped for more than one occupant.

  I didn’t bother trying to be quiet on my way back down the hall. I pulled my badge off my waistband and clipped it back on the neck of my sweatshirt.

  “All right. Stop what you’re doing.” I pulled up my sweatshirt to expose my gun. “You two are under arrest for illegally living here. That’s called squatting. Not to mention the illegal making of handicap tags and selling illegal Botox.”

  “Illegal Botox?” Polly Parker, of all people, flung up from one of the chairs. Her mother was in the other.

  Polly’s blonde hair was tugged up in a top knot on top of her head. Her face was pale and splotchy, not the normal flawless-looking skin I was used to. Goes to show you what a little makeup could do.

  “Step aside, you two.” I gestured to the women. “Polly, Mrs. Parker, you stay where you are.”

  The women were very cooperative. Neither of them said a word to me or each other as I cuffed them wrist to wrist and read them their rights. If I had two sets of cuffs, I’d have cuffed them separately.

  “Kenni,” Mrs. Parker’s southern drawl was a lot deeper than normal, “we wouldn’t want it to get out that we were here doing anything illegal. If you know what I mean.”

  Yeah. I knew what she meant. She knew it was illegal and she didn’t want anyone to know that she was an active participant and wanted me to keep my mouth shut.

  “Uh-huh,” Polly grunted. I wasn’t sure, but I don’t think she could speak. Her lips were so big and red that her mouth finally matched her horse teeth. Unfortunately, her lips took up her petite face.

  “We were getting a little touch up for the engagement photos.” Mrs. Parker tried to squint her eyes a couple of times, but when nothing moved she gave up offering a sweet southern bless-your-heart smile that I knew all too well.

  “You were here under illegal pretenses, and I just can’t think you thought this was all right.” I motioned at the needles. “Dr. Shively has several patients that have come down with flu symptoms. When a bad batch of Botox is administered, these symptoms pop up. Not to mention their illegal shenanigans with the pink handicap tags.”

  “Honey,” Mrs. Parker walked over to the women, “how long until I can move my eyes?”

  “Mrs. Parker, please make an appointment to go see Dr. Shively and she can give you and Polly all the details.” I wouldn’t let her speak to the women. “If you and Polly don’t mind coming down to the station to give a statement, I’d be mighty grateful.”

  “Oh, we can’t do that, right, Mama?” Polly muttered under her puffy, fluffy lips.

  “Right. I told you that we don’t want to be associated.” Mrs. Parker tugged on Polly. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to insist that you come to the department to give a statement.” I tried to be nice the first time. They just weren’t getting it.

  “And what if we don’t?” Mrs. Parker pulled her shoulders back. Her eyelids tried to move up and down, but she gave up.

  “Then y’all will be sitting in the back of Cowboy’s Catfish with these two.” The timer on my phone chirped that I had one hour until I had to leave for my cake class. “What’s it going to be?”

  “If I give a very generous donation to your next campaign, is there any way you can at least not use our names?” she asked.

  “I’ll not use your names when Edna Easterly comes calling,” I agreed.

  “Wonderful. We will come down later after we put some frozen peas on our faces and see Dr. Shively.” Mrs. Parker tilted her head to the door, signaling for Polly to follow.

  “All right, you two, let’s go,” I instructed them as I dialed in dispatch. “Betty, it’s Kenni. I’m bringing in the two women. Call Danny Shane and let him know that he can’t touch or even show condo number twenty-two. It’s officially a crime scene. Call the Clay’s Ferry sheriff and let him know that we’ve got two transports.”

  The women cursed and fussed all the way to the Jeep. I uncuffed them, draped the cuffs around the door handle, and cuffed them again. This way I could go grab the evidence that was there. I grabbed my bag that had all the evidence bags and headed back inside. Going up and down the stairs to and from the Jeep was great exercise. I carried the copy machine, all the Botox stuff, and all the handicap tags and put them in the back of the Jeep. After I felt like I’d taken enough photos and all the evidence there was, I decided it was time to take them to jail.

  I stuck them in the back and didn’t bother turning on the siren. The less attention drawn on me, the better. This way I still had just enough time to get to my class. Later I’d go back to the department after they were transported and write my report, not to mention update Mama’s timeline that Poppa wanted me to do so badly.

  “I bet your mama ratted on us.” One of the women cursed at me from the backseat.

  “Actually she didn’t.” I looked in the rearview mirror at her. “This whole thing would’ve been over by now if she had.”

  “So they remember her?” Poppa appeared next to me in the front seat. He was turned around facing the women. “Ask them.”

  “You do remember my mama then?” I asked.

  “What’s in it for us if we talk to you?” the other one asked in a curious tone.

  “If you cooperate, then I have the authority to ask the judge to go easy on you.” It was true.

  I played it nonchalant, careful not to lay out all my cards.

  “Yeah. I remember her.” The first one chimed in but not without getting a hard elbow to her ribs from the other woman. “What? I don’t want to go to jail forever.”

  The Jeep sped down Poplar Holler Road and when I got to the stop sign that led me back into town, I put the gear in park and turned around in my seat.

  “Tell me what you know.” I looked directly at the one who was ready to talk.

  “She came in two days in a row. It’s hard to forget someone when they come like that.” She smiled. “It wasn’t really that that caught my attention because Melanie here was her injector.” She nodded toward the other woman. “Anyways, she was upset and she mentioned between her tears that her daughter was the sheriff. Anything doing with the law freaks us out.” She gave me a hard look. “That’s when I spoke up and told her I’d refund her handicap fee that she paid for the first time she was here if she didn’t say anything about her visit to our little party.”

  “She didn’t either. What time was it when she came in the second day?” I can’t believe Mama wanted a handicap tag so badly.

  “She came around suppertime.” She held her free hand in the air and gave the so-so gesture by waving it side to side. “Six-ish.”

  “My mama was in a bit of a pickle. She’s been placed at a homicide scene. Though she’s not the number one suspect anymore, it’s good to know her whereabouts in case her timeline is questioned.” I turned back around and put the gearshift into drive. “Are you willing to go on record with this information?”

  “Only if you can help us,” Melanie chimed in.

  “I’m good for my word.” There was a bit of relief that now I had a true timeline and two witnesses for Mama. I only wanted to make sure all my T’s were crossed and I’s we
re dotted when it came to Frank and Mama.

  “This is good.” Poppa rubbed his hands together and bounced a little in his seat. “I’m glad you didn’t listen to this old coot.” His eyes dipped. “I know I’m here to guide you. I’m sorry for overstepping my boundaries.”

  Oh, how I wished I could hug a ghost.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Clay’s Ferry sheriff’s deputy was already at the office by the time I got the two women down there. The deputy waited while I fingerprinted them and took down all their information. I let them know about the process and how they’d be taken to court in the morning for their full charges. They’d have to wait to make their one phone call until they got to Clay’s Ferry. I assured them I’d let the judge know about their cooperation, and I was a woman of my word. Even though I had the ledger with Mama’s name, I still wanted a written statement. They wrote them while I finished up the transfer paperwork and gave it to the Clay’s Ferry deputy.

  “Ya know,” Melanie said to me before the deputy took them away, “you really should think about getting those elevens filled in.” She pointed to the creases between my eyes.

  I motioned for the deputy to take them. Betty sat there taking it all in. It was prime gossip for her and she got a front-row seat to all of it.

  “Elevens?” Betty asked.

  “Don’t ask.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help dragging the pad of my finger down the creases. “Give Edna Easterly a call and let her know about this case. It’s a scoop she can put in the Chronicle. Tell her that I’ll send her the police report tonight.” I grabbed the laptop off of my desk. If there was some downtime at the cake class like I’d had at the last class, I’d quickly jot down some of the notes about the case.

  On the forty-five minute drive to Lexington, I figured I’d better get in touch with Finn.

  “Hey there,” he answered.

  “You aren’t going to believe what just went down.” It was strange that he was working one investigation while I was doing another. I knew that his disappointment in my lack of judgement, though it was just temporary, hurt me personally.

  This was always my fear in dating him. I had to keep the work stuff separate from the personal stuff. His feelings were just work stuff and I needed to get a little thicker skin in this department of my life. I would apologize to Finn and make it right when I saw him. But for now, I needed to catch him up on the fake handicap investigation.

  “Tell me.”

  “I busted the fake handicap sticker ring. It was two women operating from the condos out on Poplar Holler. They were squatting in a condo there doing illegal tags and Botox.” I never would’ve believed this type of thing would ever go on in Cottonwood.

  “Botox?” he asked.

  “Yep. That’s what Mama had done to her face. Remember when we saw her at Ben’s the morning of Frank’s death?” I asked.

  “Oh man. You did point it out that she looked different,” he said.

  “That’s not all.” I took a deep breath. “That’s how she got the black eye. She was having a reaction.”

  “That’s so weird the handicap scheme was tied in with that. Toots will be happy that all her handicap parking spaces in front of Dixon’s will be open,” he joked. “I’m glad they finished out your mama’s timeline, but you know that she’s not our number-one suspect anymore so you can stop proving it.”

  “Then we probably should meet up and talk about it.”

  “How about we get together tonight for dinner at the department and go over things?” His word were music to my ears.

  “That sounds so good. Let’s meet at the department around seven because I’ve got to finish a report about those illegal handicap tags.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “I’m positive. I want you to fill me in on how Frank’s case is going,” I said.

  “Mundy wasn’t home when I went over there. I figured I’d hit it again before the end of the day,” he said.

  We exchanged a few more back and forth comments before we hung up.

  The drive to Lexington wasn’t so bad after that. I was looking forward to learning how to make flowers for my cake and seeing Finn. It was nice to get a parking spot right in front of Le Fork.

  The instructor was putting everyone’s covered cakes in front of them. I’d had no idea that it helped to decorate them cold from the fridge. It was so interesting and I’m sure that’s why I enjoyed the class. I loved to learn and it also seemed to help me relax, which was something I really needed.

  After I peeled off the cling wrap, I noticed my poor cakes had a peak at the top and everyone else had perfectly flat and even cakes. I draped the wrap back over so I didn’t have to look at it.

  “Today we are going to learn to properly ice a cake by making your very own buttercream icing. We are going to do a stiffening recipe and then we are going to thin it down so it spreads a little easier.” The instructor smiled at everyone.

  There were ingredients in little bowls at my station. She went through what was in each little bowl. There was shortening, butter flavoring, water, milk, cane sugar, meringue powder (whatever that was), and salt. She instructed us to add the ingredients using a hand mixer, which proved to be a little difficult for me.

  “Ding, ding!” Poppa smacked his leg and cackled. “You can handle a gun perfectly but not a mixer?” He bent over in laughter. “You don’t take after your mama.”

  Then a light bulb went off in my head. Was I trying so hard to be accepted by Mama? Or having something that both of us could do together? Everyone knew she wasn’t happy with my career choice, and as the years ticked by she wasn’t getting any better about it. Just crazier.

  I ignored Poppa and firmly grabbed the mixture, determined to get this right. The instructor had already moved on to what she referred to as a cake leveler. Apparently, it was supposed to even out the top of my lopsided cake. I basically used the tool to saw the peak of my cakes off, making them level. I had no idea so much went into baking a cake. I had a newfound respect for bakers.

  The instructor was going so fast. When I looked around, it was only me that was going slow. Everyone else had already gotten an icing bag and attached a tip with a coupler. The only one left for me to pick was the one with the big round hole. We had to make a ring of icing around the top of the cake and fill in the middle with fruit of our choice. Since it was my first cake, I decided to give it to Mama and added strawberries in the middle because they was her favorite.

  I put one cake on top of the other and did the same thing, making it a two-layer strawberry cake. Next was the icing part. She asked us to be very generous with the buttercream with her technique of covering the entire cake using the flat end of the spatula to smooth it out. She gave us a short potty break to let our icing set. Some people chose to put a second coat of icing on, but I didn’t. She showed us how to use the edge of a knife to go around the sides of the cake to make the ridge pattern. We used another bag of tinted icing to make an icing ring around the cake.

  “That’s all for today.” The instructor untied her apron and put it aside.

  “I thought we were learning to do flowers?” I asked.

  “That’s a little too in depth for a group class, but if you’d like a private lesson, I’m more than happy to do that.” She nodded. “You know how to bake and ice your cake now so you can do those at home and come back with them for a lesson in flower making.”

  “I can do that.” It was decided. I’d give Mama this cake and to surprise Finn, I’d give him the one with the flowers. “Yes. I’ll do that.”

  “I’m free in a couple of days,” she noted, looking at her calendar that was lying on her workstation. “About the same time?”

  “Sure.” This made me happy. I knew Mama was not the killer and Finn was no longer disappointed in me.

  Life would be perfect after I found M
undy and arrested him for the murder of Frank Von Lee.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A couple of hours later, I’d dropped off my cake to my parents. They weren’t home so I left it there with a note. They were probably out taking a drive or heading out of town for supper. Mama was still laying low and I couldn’t wait to get her off the hook.

  Duke had been home all day, though Mrs. Brown was letting him out. I decided to pick him up and take him to the department with me. We parked in front of Cowboy’s Catfish. The home-cooked fried food smelled good and I was starving.

  Bartleby Fry was slinging burgers in the back while talking to the customers through the pass-through. Duke headed straight to the kitchen because he knew Bartleby was always good for a treat. Not just any treat, a real piece of meat, which I rarely gave him at home.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of a front door visit?” Bartleby asked after I’d pushed through the swinging kitchen door.

  “I want two fried catfish platters to go,” I said, looking at the plated food on the pass-through window, trying not to let the drool run out of my mouth. “Extra tartar sauce and fries, please.”

  “You got it.” He flipped a piece of something to Duke. “I’ll bring it over. Coffee or Diet Coke?”

  “Both.” I winked and headed to the door that was between the restaurant and the department. Duke wasn’t going to budge and I knew Bartleby would bring him over with my food.

  Betty had left for the day. I flipped on the lights and immediately started to fill out the paperwork on the Botox arrest. My photos from my phone had already synched to the Google photo application we’d started using at the department. Finn had suggested all sorts of new technology that was truly helpful. I attached the photos to the report along with a scanned copy of their statement about Mama. Before I hit send, I read the report carefully.

  The clock on the wall told me it was almost time for Finn to meet me here.

  “Yep. He’ll be here in a minute, so get up and start that timeline.” Poppa stood next to the dry-erase board.