If Catfish Had Nine Lives (Country Cooking School Mystery)

by Paige Shelton

  “I get that.” Orly had mentioned some people having that attitude earlier.

  “But she was more upset by being pushed away from Norman and your brother than by anyone else. And she was extremely upset right after the murder—you know, when you found us in the shoe repair shop—but other than that, she seems to be almost unaffected by it all. And . . .”

  “Go on.”

  “And, well, her behavior and reactions seem inconsistent, and her anger over your brother and Norman was so off the charts. Rage, maybe.”

  “That’s never fun to see. Who else? Who else has she . . . well, seemed to be interested in?”

  “One of the other guys I’ve seen her talking to a lot is Orly.”

  “I don’t understand. You think she’s interested in Orly?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just saw them arguing and I wonder what he was so angry with her about.”

  “When was this argument?”

  “The night before Norman’s murder.”

  “Maybe he was just telling her to cut it out,” I said.

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you know where she is right now?”

  Esther nodded. “That’s why I came over to talk to you. I think I know exactly where she is. Come over here.”

  Esther led us to a spot on the other side of the patchwork tent. We now stood next to a tent that must have been close to brand-new, and she nodded to the right.

  “See her?” Esther asked.

  I did, and surprisingly, while I was watching her, she suddenly became very animated and loud. My attention was solely on her, so to me she was the one who seemed the loudest.

  But, actually, lots of people were screaming right along with her.

  Chapter 19

  “Gram?” I said before I bolted away from Esther and pushed through the crowd.

  The reactions and emotions from everyone were too big for something simple to have occurred, something like a mean snap of oil.

  Fortunately, Gram was fine; scared almost as witless as everyone else, but fine. So far.

  She’d jumped up from the chair, displacing both it and the table with the fish. In my lifetime, I didn’t think I’d ever heard Gram scream, but she probably had.

  “Gram, you okay?” I asked as I found myself next to her.

  “Fine. Scared the rotten right out of me, but I’m fine. We need to get this thing killed though.”

  The “thing” she was referring to was a snake. It was not coiled, which meant it could move quickly and bite if it was so inclined. Though it was currently facing the other direction, it was only a few feet away.

  “Move away a little more, Gram,” I said as I grabbed her arm. “Is that a cotton?”

  “I think so,” Gram said.

  The snake was mostly brown, which made it difficult to distinguish from other, less wicked snakes, but this guy’s or girl’s head was also triangular, which was a characteristic I’d been taught to look for and then run from. Cottonmouths are one of Missouri’s most deadly snakes; they’re one of many states’ most deadly snakes. They’re usually found in water or very close to it, so it was strange to see it writhe on the dirt around the campfire, far from any water source.

  “Step back,” I said to Gram, pulling her another step backward, but she pulled her arm from my grip.

  “Someone got a gun? Or a shovel?” she said.

  “Gram, come on! You’re not going to kill that snake. Just get back.”

  “I got this, Missouri.” Orly appeared from the crowd, carrying a shovel and a shotgun—they’d apparently both learned about the same sorts of snake-killing weapons. I hoped Orly would use the shovel, but cottonmouths are so dangerous that I probably shouldn’t have worried about the weapon as much as just hoped for a good aim.

  Cliff was planning on joining us later, but I knew there were other officers roaming the campsite. I wondered where they were and how they’d feel about someone waving and then potentially discharging a firearm. If I’d had my wits about me a little more, I would have been concerned that Orly even had any sort of firearm. Hadn’t all weapons been confiscated by the police?

  “Come on, everybody, get back a little,” Orly said when the crowd suddenly turned more curious than cautious.

  The bowl of batter had somehow been propelled into the flames. As it burned, it sizzled and sent up small puffs of dirty smoke.

  Only one of the coolers of fish had been overturned, blazing a scaled trail of dead catfish that spread from the cooler and out about six feet. Based upon what I saw, I thought that the snake must have come from the cooler, although that didn’t make a lot of sense. I couldn’t understand how it got in there in the first place. Sure, it had probably resided by or in the river where the fish had been caught, but I didn’t think it was capable of slithering its way into a cooler, nor would it want to. I didn’t understand the behavioral motivations for cottonmouths, but I knew they were mostly afraid of humans, their fear causing them to react violently when they were bothered by any.

  I also couldn’t imagine that someone would actually find a cottonmouth and touch it long enough to put it anywhere, including in a cooler. They are fierce and deadly in the most lethal ways possible. They like their own space, and I believe Teddy once told me that if a cottonmouth is disturbed, it will “chase you down just to make sure you never come back again.” Everyone knows that they aren’t to be toyed with. No one in their right mind would do anything short of run away from a cottonmouth.

  This snake was probably four feet long when stretched straight. From my vantage point, it looked huge, but I didn’t know if it truly was big for its breed. Orly was probably a very capable snake killer, but I wished for a law officer with some ace gun skills.

  “Okay, fella, or little lady, who knows, I’m not going to hurt you,” Orly said.

  I didn’t think snakes could hear, but I didn’t like what Orly said. Not going to hurt it? Was he really not going to kill it? Gram was still close enough to the action that if something went wrong, she could be bitten. I stepped forward next to her. I’d yank her back hard if need be.

  “What can I do, Orly?” I said as I put my hand on Gram’s arm.

  “Nothing, Betts, just give us room. I’m going to get him out of here.” Orly took the shovel and, with one quick swipe, uprighted the cooler that had previously held the fish. It was a pretty skillful move.

  “Just shoot it!” someone from the crowd exclaimed.

  I was now leaning that way myself, but I didn’t join in.

  “Nah, he’s got a right to live just as much as anyone else,” Orly said.

  I wanted to beg to differ, but I still kept quiet, because he was the one holding the shovel and shotgun.

  In movements that were almost too fast to follow, Orly used his shotgun and the shovel for scoop and carry maneuvers, kind of like awkwardly shaped, giant chopsticks. Seconds later, the snake was somehow placed in the cooler and the lid was down. Gram was just as quick as Orly had been when she leapt to the closed cooler and sat on it.

  She peered up at Orly and said, “Got a rope?”

  “I believe I do, little lady,” Orly said.

  I’d seen plenty of gentlemen become smitten with my grandmother. She was amazing and still had whatever it took that seemed to draw men right to her. I didn’t mind the flirtation, but understanding what had been going on between Orly and Vivienne moved up a notch on my priority list. Gram could take care of herself, but she didn’t need to be just another notch in Orly’s convention cowboy belt. Unless she wanted to be, I suppose.

  Relief spread through the crowd in the form of some nervous laugher, a little conversation, and a smattering of applause. I took a deep breath and released it.

  “Look over there.” Esther had appeared by my side. She was nodding across the crowd.

  Vivienne was the subject of the nod. Her arms were crossed in front of herself. She was glaring directly at Gram.

  “Uh-oh,” I said involuntarily.
<
br />   “I know. She might have something for Orly, and we all saw his and your grandmother’s snake-wrangling teamwork. They seemed to enjoy it.”

  Truthfully, Orly’s, Vivienne’s, and, for the most part, Gram’s love lives were none of my business, and I typically wouldn’t be interested in any details or gossip, but between the murder and Teddy’s beating, I was intrigued. Though it felt a little high school-ish, maybe knowing more about who had the hots for who might tell me about who’d also been acting with violence.

  “You think Orly has something for Vivienne, or Vivienne for him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know if that was it. Not sure. They were arguing, and I’m sure I heard Norman’s name, that’s all I know. And then she seemed interested in your brother and in Norman, and seemed so upset when they didn’t respond. I’m sorry, Betts, I don’t know the details, but I know something was going on and I just can’t help but think . . .” Esther said, her words trailing off. No one wanted to accuse anyone of anything violent.

  I needed to talk to Vivienne, or at least find out more about her. And about Esther, too, for that matter.

  • • •

  Predictably, Gram was no worse for the wear. In fact, since no one got hurt, the moments with the snake somehow infused her with an extra dose of adrenaline. There were plenty more catfish that had been caught and stored in coolers that hadn’t been upturned, and hadn’t been invaded by snakes—we checked. The two poets who’d claimed to have some experience with both campfires and catfish jumped in to take care of the rest of the fry as Gram supervised.

  I helped, too, and lost track of Vivienne. Finally, I found a moment when I thought I could step away from the frying activities, and I was pleasantly surprised to see Jezzie and Cody sitting side-by-side on a couple camp chairs. As I approached, I thought I heard Jezzie say Norman’s name.

  “Hi,” I said.

  They both looked up. Neither of them was happy to see me, or maybe it was just that neither of them was plain happy.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Hey, Betts. We were just talking about Norman and who would have killed that poor man. I’m more and more distraught the more I think about it,” Jezzie said.

  She was pale and looked very tired.

  “I’m so sorry, Jezzie. This has to be hard on you.”

  “It is. I didn’t know him all that well, but I sure liked what little I knew. He seemed like a sweet guy.”

  I nodded.

  Jezzie rubbed her knuckles together. “That morning—that morning before he was killed, he told me he’d made an important decision not to do something. He was a little upset, but mostly relieved. I was all about getting into my character so I only briefly asked for more details, but he could tell I was distracted so he didn’t tell me more. If only I knew more. I’ve been asking Cody here if he knew anything.”

  I looked at Cody. He shook his head and shrugged at the same time.

  “Did you tell Cliff about that?” I asked Jezzie.

  “Of course, but I don’t think it did much good. I feel like I let him down.”

  “You didn’t,” I said. “He and my brother Teddy were kind of friends, too.”

  “Yeah, I know. Does he know anything?”

  “No, not at the moment,” I said. Maybe the news hadn’t made it to Jezzie yet. Cody just looked at me with wide, unsure eyes. “Teddy was hurt, Jezzie. He was beaten up the night before Norman was killed.”

  “No! That’s terrible. Is he okay?”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “Oh my gracious, I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “I heard he’d been drinking quite a bit earlier that night.” I looked at Cody to see if he would waver from his earlier comments. I didn’t want to believe that he had been correct about Teddy’s behavior, but Cody gave no sign that he wanted to change his story. I turned my attention back to Jezzie. “Teddy doesn’t remember much. Any chance you saw anything suspicious?”

  “No, and when I saw him he certainly wasn’t acting like he was too drunk, but I left early in the evening so I could get some rest. I’m not as old as the old ones around here, and not as young as the young-uns. I’m right in the middle group who likes a good night of sleep more than not.” There was no humor in her words, but if she’d been in a better mood, I might have laughed.

  Instead, I hesitated to respond, which caused both her and Cody to look up at me.

  “Jezzie, were you upset with Orly that night?” I finally asked.

  “I don’t . . . oh, yes, I was. Well, not really, but we were having a discussion.”

  “May I ask what it was about?”

  “It wasn’t much of anything, just rehearsal schedules and such. Nothing important.”

  “That was it?”

  “That was it.”

  “Oh.”

  I looked back and forth at Jezzie and Cody, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they were hiding, or just keeping to themselves, maybe. They both now had that forced, wide-eyed innocence that pretty much always indicates some sort of guilt.

  But any more questions I might come up with would have to wait to be asked. I saw Cliff’s car moving along the road at the edge of the campsite. I excused myself and hurried to greet him.

  The snake story had made it back to the police station, and Cliff’s first item of duty was to tell Orly that the snake would be disposed of by the police, and that waving a shotgun in public, even if a murder hadn’t recently occurred, was a bad idea. In fact, I’d been correct—no one was supposed to have a firearm in the first place. The police had taken possession of all weapons. Or so they thought. The shotgun was now also in the possession of one of the other officers.

  I didn’t think Orly cared much that the police weren’t happy with him, but he was dutifully obedient with Cliff, apologizing and promising to never to do such a thing again.

  “How are you?” I said to Cliff after he took the tied-shut cooler and placed it in his police car. He’d driven his official vehicle, though he had changed out of his official uniform into some jeans and an appropriate Western shirt. I didn’t know if he’d decided to be more casual since we’d be together this evening or if he didn’t want to look so much like a cop. Jim must have given the okay on the clothes.

  “I’m fine. How about you?” he said. “I’ve been a little busy the last few days, haven’t I?”

  I shrugged. “Goes with the job.”

  “It does. Seriously, you doing all right?”

  “Yep. I’d like to find out who killed Norman and who beat up Teddy. I’ve been trying to ask some questions. You and Jim find out anything more about either of those crimes, though I realize the murder is much more important? Maybe you’d like to share the details with me?”

  “You’re much more curious than you used to be in high school.”

  “Not really. You just weren’t a police officer when we were in high school. If you had been, I’d have been extra curious. If I remember correctly, I paid very close attention to all your football stuff. I even learned some of the plays.”

  “Yes, you did.” Cliff half smiled. He took a deep breath and then surveyed the campsite. Any reminiscing would have to take place later.

  As the sun was low on the horizon, some people were eating, some were chatting, some were reading to each other, and some were writing their poetry as they sat in camp chairs and scribbled on notepads. Cliff was probably building a mental grid, separating the groups with his cop eyes.

  “We’d like to have some answers, too. Other than determining that the weapon used to kill Norman was a .38 Special, we don’t have anything new, Betts. We’re trying to get more information on everyone here, but particularly Norman Bytheway, and we’re having a hard time finding much at all about him.”

  “No family in Kansas City?” I said.

  “Nope. We can’t find any family anywhere. His last name is unusual, but there are a few Bytheways in Missouri. We’ve got calls in to the ones we could find. But Norman might n
ot have even been from Missouri. It could be a dead end.”

  “So, whoever his family is, they don’t know he’s dead yet?”

  Cliff shook his head. “Unless they killed him or they’re secretly here, part of the poetry group, or have paid attention to the news reports—but we expected a call or something after we released his name; got nothing. So as far as we know, none of his family knows anything.”

  “I think I remember Jake telling me that he was a part-time actor in Kansas City. He must have had another job, one that paid the bills.”

  “He must have, but we have yet to figure out where. There were no credit cards or checks in his possession. His driver’s license expired over a year ago and the address listed wasn’t current, or at least that’s what the people who answered the door there said.”

  “I can see letting a license expire. Those things get forgotten sometimes.”

  “They do, but the fact that we can’t find anything more about him is, of course, strange. Pretty much everybody leaves a trail these days.”

  “He wasn’t who he said he was?” I said.

  “That’s one thought, but even though the license expired, it did have his picture on it. We do think he was using his real name.”

  “I might have something helpful.”

  “That’d be great. I hope so.”

  I told him about Vivienne and about the supposed argument between her and Orly. I also went over everything Teddy had told me. I told him what Esther and Teddy had noticed about Vivienne and Teddy and Norman, and what Cody had observed. I even mentioned that Esther had commented about Jezzie and Orly arguing, and the reason Jezzie had just given me for the argument—or, as she put it, “discussion.”

  “That’s good stuff, Betts. I’ll find and talk to them all again.”

  I didn’t think it really was good stuff. I thought it was a bunch of different stuff that wasn’t fitting together and didn’t have much backing it up, but maybe it would lead to something.