Mud Bog Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

“Can we come in? You’ve met my grandmother and my friend Nappi, haven’t you?”

  As Shelley opened the door to let us in, Nappi stepped in front of me, and in his usual gentlemanly manner, took Shelley’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind our intrusion, but Eve was concerned about you. I trust you are well.” He made a tiny bow over her hand, then flashed her one of his winning toothy smiles.

  “Oh, I, um, oh, thank you.” Shelley returned his smile.

  “Darrel here?” I looked around the room expecting his weaselly face to appear.

  “No, he’s off with his friends tonight. Come in. There’s not much in the house, but I could make us some instant coffee.”

  “We just had dinner,” said Grandy. “We’re fine. Is it okay if we sit for a while?’

  “Of course. Where are my manners?” She gestured to the sofa and chair in the living room, but she remained standing near the door as if intending to bolt if the conversation went the wrong way.

  “I dropped by because you sounded upset on the phone today. You said you needed to talk with me?”

  Shelley’s gaze traveled from me to Grandy to Nappi. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought them. She seemed uncomfortable in their presence.

  “I guess I just wanted to touch bases with you now that the police have found my mother’s murderer.”

  “I don’t think that’s it at all. And I don’t think you believe Mr. Egret was the killer.”

  “Oh yes, I do. Darrel said—”

  I stopped her by holding up my hand. “I don’t give a pile of ’possum poop what Darrel said. And if the police really have arrested your mother’s killer, why don’t you want to talk to them? You should be feeling grateful and relieved.”

  Shelley’s eyes widened in fear, and I knew it wasn’t my harsh words that had frightened her. She had grown up with a strong, opinionated mother, a no-nonsense woman she could count on. She might not always have liked her mother’s way or shared her beliefs, but she trusted Jenny to tell her the truth, at least the truth as she saw it. Shelley knew I was the same kind of woman. I hoped she also knew I was on her side. I wouldn’t desert her.

  “This is awful.” She dropped her head into her hands and began to sob.

  Moving from her seat on the couch, Grandy went over to Shelley, put her arms around the young woman, and patted her back as you would a baby needing to be burped. “There, there,” Grandy crooned.

  The comforting worked. Shelley stopped sobbing. Grandy rummaged around in her purse and handed her a tissue. Shelley wiped her eyes.

  “Darrel would kill me if he knew I was telling you this.”

  “He can go kiss a toad for all I care,” I said, waving away Darrel’s concern.

  “Darrel’s the only friend I have,” said Shelley. She began to cry again.

  Grandy reached out to hug her once more.

  Enough of this coddling. “Buck up, woman. Darrel is not your only friend. Why do you think we’re here?”

  Grandy looked stunned at my insensitivity.

  “Eve.” Grandy used that tone of voice that said I’d done something socially inept.

  I ignored her. “Why don’t you and Nappi get us some of that instant coffee? I think we could all use a pick-me-up.”

  With Grandy and Nappi off raiding Shelley’s cupboards, I had Shelley to myself.

  “Okay, no more of this nonsense. You have something you want to tell me, despite what your so-called friend Darrel might think. Blow your nose and wipe the snot off your face and tell me. Now.”

  “You know Mom’s ring?”

  “The one found among Grandfather Egret’s collection in his work area? You identified it as your mother’s, right?”

  “It was Mom’s ring. I’ve no doubt of that.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  She hesitated.

  “Shelley. Talk to me.”

  Before she could say anything, her only friend Darrel slammed through the door.

  “What’s the bitch doing here?” he yelled.

  Nappi appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  “And the goon’s here.” Darrel nodded at Nappi.

  I caught a look of annoyance flit across Nappi’s face, but I knew Darrel hadn’t a clue what it signified. Nappi crossed the room and confronted Darrel. “We met once before. That time you were also without manners. I’m sure your mother taught you some, but perhaps you need a refresher course.” There was no inkling of threat in Nappi’s voice unless you counted smooth as the satin lining of a coffin a threat.

  Darrel snorted. He caught sight of Grandy, who held a tray of cups and the coffee pot. “I think you two,” Darrel nodded at Nappi and me, “should take Betty Crocker here and skedaddle.”

  “Says who?” I asked.

  “C’mon in, fellas!” Darrel yelled out the door. Three young men, larger and more muscular than Darrel, shoved into the living room.

  “Says me and my friends here. We was just saying to one another about how bored we were tonight with nothin’ to do. And here you are. Let’s take ’em out into the swamps and leave ’em.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I’ve already done that once, and it was with better company than you.”

  Darrel signaled to the guys behind him, who moved toward Nappi. Darrel grabbed my arm. I slugged him in the side of the head, a move he was not expecting. It certainly had an effect, but not the one I hoped for. Instead of yelling “ow” and dropping to the floor, he tried to shove me backwards, but I held on and pulled him with me. The couch broke our fall for a moment; then we tumbled onto the carpet.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nappi grab the guy in the lead, spin him around, pin his arm behind his back and rest the barrel of a very large pistol against the guy’s temple.

  Darrel had managed to get on top of me and was trying to land a punch on my head and shoulders. Through deft arm movements, I managed to block him with surprising effectiveness.

  “Darrel, stop it!” shouted Shelley. He ignored her and continued his surprisingly inept attack. I could smell the fumes rising off him and was just glad he wasn’t in top form. Or I might have a concussion by now.

  “Darrel, let her go! Or this guy is going to shoot me,” said the fellow Nappi had grabbed.

  “No. Don’t be silly,” said Nappi, smoothly, “I intend to shoot all of you.”

  I didn’t know how long I could keep up my defense. My arms were getting battered pretty good. He actually managed to land a blow to the side of my head, though he seemed to be pulling his punches now as if he knew the jig was up. His companions stumbled over one another trying to back up. Nappi let go of the one he was holding and threw him toward the others.

  “Get off her, Darrel,” said Nappi.

  Darrel paused with his fist raised. Before it could connect again, Nappi strode across the room and placed the pistol’s barrel against his head. “Like you and your companions, I get a little bored down here. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone for several days.”

  Darrel uncoiled his arm and dropped his hand onto my shoulder. He patted it and stood up. “Just a joke. No hard feelings. Okay?”

  For a minute, I thought Nappi might shoot Darrel. His eyes were so cold I feared I’d never see the warmth in them again.

  Nappi took the gun away from Darrel’s head. “Go. Now.”

  I’d never seen a guy jump up so fast. I hardly had time to blink before I heard a car engine start and the sound of spitting gravel as the tires spun out.

  Nappi reached down to help me off the floor. “Are you okay? Do we need to get you to the hospital?”

  “I think I’m fine.” The thought of another visit to the emergency room made me certain a few Band-Aids, several Scotches, and a lie-down in my bed would do the trick.

  Shelley looked as if she was about to cry again.

  “Don’t you dare,” I said, “at least not until you tell me what you were going to say before Darrel and company interrupted.”

  Grandy had placed the tray she was carrying on
the coffee table. “Are you sure you’re okay, Eve?” She touched my head.

  “Ow. Leave it alone. It’s my head, the hardest part of my body. I’ve taken worse blows there.”

  “Well, at least sit down,” she said.

  Nappi helped me to the couch.

  I patted the cushion next to me. “Sit here, Shelley. And talk to me.”

  She gulped. “About the ring they found at Grandfather Egret’s … I’m pretty sure it was sitting on Mom’s bedroom bureau after they found her dead that morning in the mud bog.”

  Chapter 15

  “Why didn’t you tell the police that the ring was on your mother’s bureau after her murder?” I said, anger boiling up inside me.

  “They didn’t ask. They wanted me to identify it, and I said it was Mom’s. I tried to explain, but they didn’t seem interested, so I kind of … shut up.” Tears ran down Shelley’s face once more. This gal was producing enough water to raise the level of the lake by several inches.

  “Well, now you’re going to open up. Call Frida.” I held out the phone.

  “I told Darrel, but he said it didn’t matter, that the old Indian could have broken in here and taken the ring.”

  Nappi stepped forward to confront Shelley. “Didn’t you think with Darrel around here all the time that it was just as likely he took the ring?”

  Shelley stopped sobbing, and her eyes widened in disbelief. “Darrel wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  “Yeah, right. Like Darrel would never come in here and threaten us and beat the hell out of Eve.” Grandy leaned over and shook Shelley. “What is wrong with you anyway? That man is bad news, and he’s trying to run your life by intimidating you. Your mother was a strong woman, and she raised you to be one too. Now do the right thing.”

  Shelley sensed she had no allies in this room for her support of Darrel. She took the phone and punched in the number I gave her.

  Shelley explained why she was calling, listened intently for a minute, then hung up.

  “Detective Frida said she’d relay the message to her captain. She’ll be here as soon as she can.

  Twenty minutes later Frida arrived. I thought she would be almost as excited as we were to learn about Jenny’s ring, but her face was glum.

  “Tell me again.” Frida took out her notebook and scribbled notes as Shelley repeated her story about the ring.

  “So when will Grandfather be released?” I asked. “This does mean he didn’t kill her.”

  “My captain and the assistant DA, who happened to be in the office when I told them about the ring, said it didn’t make any difference.”

  “What? Why not?” I was stunned.

  “Because Grandfather could have stolen the ring out of the house. Jenny’s body was found near his airboat business. They think the motive for the murder was anger over how she was using her land.”

  “So he just wandered into the house and took the ring? Why would he do such a stupid thing?” I could feel the fury begin to work its way up my body. I thought the top of my head might blow off.

  “See,” said Shelley, “Darrel was right about Mr. Egret stealing the ring.”

  Frida’s gaze slid from me to Shelley. “What?”

  “Darrel said the Indian broke in here and stole it,” Shelley said.

  Frida didn’t reply, but the look on her face gave away what she was thinking. Like me, she figured it was more likely Darrel took it.

  “Does Mr. Lightwind know about this development?” I asked.

  “He will, just as soon as you tell him.” Frida flipped her notebook shut and stood. “Got a minute, Eve? Could you walk me to my car?”

  “This is all bull slobber, you know,” I told Frida once we were outside.

  “I know, I know. But I thought I’d slip you some good news—something I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”

  “So why tell me?”

  “As angry as you are, I know you’ll do something foolish. You always do, so maybe this bit of information will convince you we’re doing our job, and you’ll back off a bit. But you can’t pass this on to anyone.”

  I wasn’t certain if she’d insulted me or complimented me. “So?”

  “The hand we found wasn’t Jenny’s.”

  “Do you know who it belonged to yet?”

  “I kind of knew when I got a good look at it.”

  “Are you some kind of an expert on dead hands, or is another person missing one?”

  “It’s a fake. A good one.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “There’s more. It’s likely the body was moved to the location near the airboat business.”

  “Moved? How do you figure?” I asked.

  “This is kind of gross for a civilian’s ears, but you’re a big girl with some, uh, dead-body experience. The body was in bad shape for only being outside and in the water for a few hours.”

  “Explain. Frida. I don’t understand what you mean by ‘in bad shape.’ ”

  “An alligator had been working on it. We believe Jenny was killed near the mud bog event, shot in the back, and her head severed from her body by a blow from a large knife, probably a machete. There’s no way to confirm that’s where she was killed because by the time we searched the area, it was torn up by all those huge trucks. We do know the murder took place early in the morning before the event. We also speculate from the tooth marks on the body that a gator, probably upset by all the activity around his hole, dragged the body off to a location less disturbed by humans. You know how gators like to bury their kill before they dine.”

  I gulped. That was more than I needed to know. The hamburger in my stomach threatened to come up.

  “We did find a machete when we searched Grandfather Egret’s shed for the hand, but it turned out not to be the one used to sever the head from the body.” Frida paused in her story, looking up at me for my reaction, but then hurried on, “So the captain and the DA’s office are keeping the information under wraps, thinking we might be able to track down where the hand was purchased—probably some costume store on the coast. Linc’s over there now looking into it. And we don’t have ballistics back on Grandfather’s rifle.”

  I batted the rifle issue away as if swatting a fly. “And you have to know buying a fake hand is not something Grandfather would do. It was deliberately planted by someone too stupid to know the cops would figure it out quickly.”

  “Maybe so,” said Frida, “but we’re hoping that finding the person who bought the hand will give us a lead on the killer.”

  “You don’t think that lead will point at Grandfather any more than I do. This is ridiculous.” I felt my anger ramp up again. Frida must have noticed it too.

  “Let it go for now, Eve. We’ll sort this out soon.”

  “You already know this hand prank wasn’t something the killer did, don’t you? You said it yourself. Either someone was intimidated into doing it or paid to do it.” A name crossed my mind. Darrel. Frida smiled as if she shared the same thought.

  “He may not be a killer, but he might know something. He and Shelley are tight, right?” Frida asked.

  I sighed. Who knew if Shelley would forgive Darrel for his attack on me tonight? He seemed to be able to twist things around in such a way that she believed he was only defending her.

  “You’re thinking he might confide in her?” I asked.

  Frida nodded. “Maybe. She likes you, Eve. You plunged in and helped her when she had no one. You could find out what Darrel said to her. You’re good at wheedling information out of people.”

  “Wheedling?”

  “Well, you know what I mean. People seem to confide in you.”

  Taking Frida’s comment as a compliment, I nodded in agreement.

  Maybe I wouldn’t have to “wheedle” anything out of Shelley. If Nappi, Grandy, and I talked with those ranchers interested in mud bog racing tonight, I might have some leads into Jenny’s murder and know if Darrel was connected to it or if he was simply a very bad boy with a lousy sense
of humor.

  I walked back into the house with a plan.

  Since we were right next door to Clay Archer’s property, and he was one of the ranchers who had expressed interest in a mud bog event, his ranch was our first stop. I told Shelley we were paying a visit to the men interested in mud bog events.

  “Yeah, Mom told me he looked into the mud bog event. We both thought that was kind of odd. The man runs about a thousand head of cattle on his property. He’s one of the wealthiest ranchers in this county, so why would he be interested in mud bog racing? That’s money to us poor folks, but not to him.”

  I had mixed feelings about Clay Archer. He certainly was handsome, and he could be charming, yet in my few brief encounters with him, I’d observed that he had an unpleasant edge. Or was it simply that he didn’t like me and my stance on mud bog racing, and I found that unacceptable? I’d give him a chance tonight to change his mind about me, and in the process perhaps determine if he had reason to kill Jenny.

  “I guess Mr. Archer has been through a lot lately,” Shelley said.

  “Oh?” I was interested in any background I could get on these ranchers. Perhaps Shelley might have some information that would help me see Mr. Archer in a clearer light.

  “His wife left him last year. He’s got no kids, so he’s there all alone. Mom felt sorry for him, so she took to inviting him over for dinner every now and then. Of course, that stopped when she got engaged. I thought for a while he was sweet on Mom.” There was a hesitancy in Shelley’s voice.

  “Maybe he was the one you heard arguing with your mom? Maybe a kind of lovers’ spat?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” She shrugged.

  Hmm. Was he sweet enough to feel jilted? Maybe Jenny reconsidered Archer’s attentions and dumped George. Archer had money and George did not, and if Archer found out he was being used for his money, then …. But Shelley said nothing about Jenny taking up with Archer after she ended the engagement. My line of reasoning was a stretch, with little to support it. Shelley looked as if she had more to say, but she dropped her glance and turned away.

  I had a lot of questions for Mr. Archer.

  I wondered at the wisdom of leaving Shelley alone again, but what could we do? Take her with us? This was her home, and if she chose to let Darrel back into her life, I couldn’t stop her. Maybe tonight’s events had knocked some sense into her. Anyhow, I doubted Darrel would attempt to return this evening. He’d be too worried about encountering Nappi again. Shelley promised to lock up when we left and not open the door to anyone other than the police. Or me.