by Amy Metz
“It’s in the shop. Now if you’ll stop with your lame-brained questions — ”
Johnny interrupted. “I just got one more question.”
The man let out a deep sigh. “What is it?”
“Do you have a badge?”
The man reached into his pocket and flashed a badge, then put it back before Johnny had barely had a chance to look at it.
“That’s not a badge,” Johnny said, shaking his head and pointing to where the man had just put it.
The man puffed out his chest even though Johnny was taller and bigger than he was. “It most certainly is, and I’m of good mind to arrest you.”
“Naw, naw. That there’s not a badge.” He reached into his back pocket and produced his police badge, holding it up in front of the man. “This here’s a badge.”
The look on the man’s face was priceless. It changed from annoyance to confusion to realization to terror in five seconds.
Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll bet you got some fake parking tickets to go along with that fake badge.”
The man turned and started to run to his car. Johnny made two long strides while simultaneously pulling out his handcuffs from the back of his belt. He caught the man by one arm, flung him down on the hood of the car, and handcuffed and frisked him.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You have the right to remain silent,” Johnny began.
When she puts on her lipstick, it keeps backing down the tube.
~Chester Hale
The arrest of the impostor put Johnny behind. He had to laugh to himself when he thought of the man’s excuse for the ruse: “I’d rather have a sister actively serving in a whore house than have some lame-brain for a chief of police.”
Everybody’s entitled to his opinion but not to break the law, Johnny thought.
He’d been informed by phone that the woman accomplice had taken the local police to Chester’s house, and they had searched it thoroughly with Chester’s blessing.
“That still isn’t proof he doesn’t have her somewhere.”
“Yeah, well, there still isn’t proof that he does. We keep on him without a valid reason, he’s going to cry harassment.”
“No, he’s not. He wants to be as far under the radar as possible. If you ask me, this was set up.”
“What do you mean, set up?”
“I mean, he has her, and he stashed her somewhere else.”
“Well, when you figure out that somewhere else, you let me know.”
Johnny needed some time to think. He passed a bar, did a U-turn, and pulled into the mostly empty parking lot.
Once inside, he thought Check’s looked like General Robert E. Lee might have been a patron at one time. Still, it was a good place for him to sit and ponder. He found a stool at the bar.
“Help ya?” the bartender said.
“Blue Moon if you have it.”
“We do. Coming right up.” When the bartender returned, he eyed Johnny for several moments. “Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
“That’s probably because I haven’t been in here before.” He gave a good-natured grin to the man.
“What brings you in now? Just passing through town?”
Johnny reached for the picture in his pocket. “No, I’m here on police business. I’m looking for a woman, and I think this man,” he said as he slid the picture of Chester to the bartender, “might have something to do with her disappearance.” Johnny was good at reading people, and he saw the slight arch of the man’s eyebrows when he first saw Chester’s face. “Do you know him?”
The man shook his head. “Naw, can’t rightly say that I do.” He wouldn’t meet Johnny’s gaze.
“How much did he pay you?”
“Come again?”
Johnny took a long pull from the bottle while studying the man. “I think you do know him, and I think he probably paid you for your silence.”
“Mister, I don’t like your innuendoes – ”
“Oh, well, you misunderstood me then. I’m not innuendoing anything. I’ve got an elderly sick woman out there somewhere, and I aim to find her. I think you can help because I think this man’s been in here.” Johnny’s index finger landed hard on the photo of Chester lying on the bar. “Now you can either level with me, or I can call the Health Department and get them over here.” Johnny gave two crisp nods that strengthened his claim.
“Okay, okay, don’t get your cows running. Sheesh.” The bartender wiped his forehead with a towel from under the bar. Then he leaned in close to Johnny. “He was in here last night. Said he was looking for a lawyer, and I got the feeling he wanted one who . . .” He paused, searching for the right word. “Let’s just say I called someone for him who I happen to know doesn’t possess an ounce of moral fiber.”
“I see.” Johnny ran the bottle through his hands several times. “And just what set this one apart from other lawyers?”
The bartender laughed politely. “Good one.”
“Did you hear any part of their conversation?”
“Might have.”
Johnny got out his money clip and laid a hundred on the bar.
The man pocketed it in one smooth move. “I might have heard them using words like ‘power’ and ‘attorney.’”
Johnny’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “No joke?”
He crossed his arms and leveled his gaze at Johnny. “I kid you not.”
“Huh.” Johnny stared off into space. “I’m gonna need the name of that shyster lawyer.”
“I’m gonna need more than a hundred.”
Johnny looked over his shoulder at the pool table in the corner of the room. “Tell you what. You and I play a game of pool, and we play double or everything.”
“Huh?”
“Double, meaning if you win, I give you another hundred. Everything, meaning if I win, you tell me everything, and give me the hundred back.”
A man who’d been drinking Miller Light and sitting at the other end of the bar listening to the conversation finally spoke up. “G’won, Glenn. You can take him. You play at least once a day. Go for it, man.”
Glenn pointed his thumb at Johnny. “He must be pretty confident if he’s offering a deal like that.” He sized Johnny up for several moments. “Tell you what. There’s nobody in here now, so I’ll take that bet, but in a game of Cricket.”
Johnny frowned, and Glenn hitched his head at the dartboard in the back of the room. “Darts. The winner ‘closes out’ numbers 15-20 three times.”
Miller Light spoke up again. “Thatta boy. That’s even better. You’re great at darts. Hell, you’re damn near a dart whisperer. And take a look at him. He’s got hands the size of coconuts. Ain’t no darts gonna fit in his hands the right way.”
“Okay.” Johnny stood. “You’re on.”
They each took a practice throw, and Glenn got closest to the double bull, so he got to throw first to start the game. He stood leaning forward, which offered less stability. His dart landed in the yellow area under the 4. Johnny stood upright, with his right foot in front and left foot in back, and smoothly launched the dart straight forward. His dart landed in the black double bull under the 18. He walked over to the chalkboard and put two marks to the left of the 18.
The game proceeded, and Glenn wasn’t bad at darts, but Johnny was better. He only launched a few duds, and he hit the green bull twice and the red bull once. When he added the last mark next to number 20, he tallied up all the points. Johnny won by 25.
His grin wasn’t cocky or proud but just plain confident. “I’ll be needing my hundred back and the name of that shyster lawyer if you please.”
“Money-grubbing, evil-hearted, low-down, good-for-nothing attorney.” Johnny was at Jack’s house, complaining about the stall in the hunt for Ima Jean. “She’s lower than a mole’s belly button on digging day. She’s lower than — ”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up there. What’s got you so riled up?”
“She knows whe
re Ima Jean is, but she won’t help me because she’s ‘bound by attorney-client privilege.’” Johnny mimicked a soprano voice.
“Well, she has a point — ”
“I’d be willing to lay odds on her getting Ima Jean to sign power of attorney papers. What else would you need a lawyer for? And Chester supposedly needed a lawyer.”
Jack sat up on the edge of the sofa. He looked left then right.
“What’s the matter?”
“Ezmerelda. She’s too quiet. Usually she’s in here pestering you to death to rub her ears, but she’s nowhere to be seen.” He stood up and headed for the doorway leading to the hall. “Ezzie!”
The Basset hound came slinking in, looking guilty as sin. Her head was down, but her big, bloodshot eyes looked up at Jack.
“What have you been up to?” He put his hands on his hips and glared at the dog. She sat down and hung her head. “What’s that on your face?” Jack pulled some shredded lettuce off the side of Ezzie’s mouth.
“Aha! The first bit of evidence. What have you been eating?”
Johnny joined them and said, “Uh, Jack, it’s probably my fault. I had a sandwich in my backpack, and I set it on the foyer floor when I came in.”
“And that big schnozz sniffed it out, did it?” He looked at the dog accusingly. Shame was written all over her face. Her eyes moved up to Jack’s, then down, then up again. She was too ashamed to hold his gaze.
“That dog is something else.”
“She’s something else, all right. I have a good mind to — ”
“No, really, Jack. She’s got some serious olfactory skills there. Maybe we could use her to find Ima Jean.”
“Come again? You want to use this sack of hair with a nose in the line of duty?” Jack snickered. “Are you gonna deputize her?”
“Jack, I’m serious. They said that Ima Jean loves peppermint candy and eats it all the time. I’ll bet if we let Ezzie eat some peppermints, she’ll want more. She could go into that house and sniff out Ima Jean. And she’s gotta be there. Unless he killed her and buried her body somewhere.”
“Johnny! Cut that out!”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to be realistic. The real world doesn’t always have a happy ending like in the movies.”
“Well, okay, but I think we should do a little training with her to make sure she’s up to the task.”
“Totally doable.”
As they both expected, Ezzie was a natural. They let her eat the peppermint candy and then hid some in a room. Her nose led her right to it every time.
“I feel good about this, Jack. If he has her like I suspect, Ezzie’s going to find her for us.”
Jack crossed his arms. “What if Ima Jean doesn’t have any peppermints?”
“That would be like saying what if the sky didn’t have the sun. Martha Maye said she’s addicted to the things.”
Jack looked at his dog. “Ezmerelda, you’ve got a big nose and a big job. Don’t let us down.”
That man is flat out rude. He don’t have any home training.
~Ima Jean Moxley
Through his window, Chester watched the police chief and another man get out of a car in his driveway. Why’s that local yokel back here?
The police chief opened the back car door and a Basset hound jumped out, landing on her stumpy little legs. She ate something from the chief’s hand and then they all headed for the front door. Chester waited until the bell rang to go to the door. He didn’t want it to appear that he’d been watching them.
“Chief, I done told you I don’t know where Ms. Moxley is.”
“Yessir. I know that. I just wondered if we could come in and ask you a few more questions.”
“The mutt too?” Chester pointed at Ezzie, who looked solemnly back at him.
Jack spoke up. “She’s a full-bred Basset hound, not a mutt. And she has impeccable manners.”
“It’s too hot to leave her in the car, and we didn’t plan on stopping anywhere, so we didn’t think to bring a leash. We promise she won’t disrupt your household.”
Chester stood aside, and they filed through the door.
Ezzie trotted inside like she owned the place, and her nose led the way. Once in the kitchen, she sniffed all the low-lying cabinets until Jack scolded her. Then she shot out of the room like her tail was on fire.
“Where’s she going? I don’t like dogs in my house, you know.”
“She’s just checking out all the new smells in here. She’ll be fine. Now, tell us, Chester, what did you say your relationship was with Ms. Moxley?”
But Chester was too nervous about having the dog loose in his house, and he followed after Ezzie. Soon, the three men and one dog were in the bedroom where Ima Jean had been convalescing up until a day ago. Ezzie’s nose covered every inch of the carpet, and she sprang onto the wastepaper basket, knocking it on its side. Burrowing her nose into the contents, she came out with a mouthful of peppermint wrappers. She lay down on the ground with the paper between her paws and began chewing it.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you get your dadblamed dog out of here? Look at the mess she made.” Chester quickly scooped up the wastebasket contents and the candy wrappers from Ezzie, then shooed everyone out. “If you can’t control that dog, I’m gonna have to ask all y’all to leave.”
“She didn’t mean any harm. Ezzie’s just naturally curious, aren’t you, girl?” Back in the kitchen, Jack bent down to pet his dog on her head. He whispered something to her and again put his closed hand up to her nose. The dog sniffed, then sneezed, chomped on something hard, and then turned around in a circle, barking and looking up at her owner.
Jack stood, and Ezzie led him to the basement door. Before Chester could get there, Jack opened it, saying, “What’s in here?”
Ezzie shot down the stairs, and Chester’s heart plummeted to his stomach.
“I’m asking nicely one more time: y’all need to leave. If you don’t, I’m calling the law.” He was shouting this as he followed the two men who were following Ezzie down the steps. “There’s nothing down here but cobwebs and spiders.” Chester reached the bottom of the stairs and stood frozen as he watched Ezzie sniffing crazily around the edge of the room where Ima Jean was being held. He smacked his hands together and rushed toward her, when all of a sudden, a voice came from inside the wall.
“I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.”
Chester stopped in his tracks. Then he started yelling, hoping to drown out Ima Jean. But it was too late.
“What was that?” Johnny said, moving toward the brick wall.
“That must’ve been Betty from upstairs. I’ll bet she just got here. Let’s g’won up and see.”
Ezzie’s toenails made tapping sounds as she danced up and down the wall, trying to figure out how to get inside. Jack and Johnny ran their hands up and down it.
“What was that?” Johnny shouted at the wall.
The voice came again: “When E.F. Hutton talks, people listen.”
“Ms. Moxley, is that you?” Johnny put his ear to the wall.
“You’ve come a long way, baby,” the voice said.
Johnny whirled around on Chester, who was starting up the steps. “Oh, no, you don’t. You get back down here and tell us how to get her outta there.” He caught the man at the collar on the back of his shirt, tugging on it. “Get her out before I smack the fire outta you.” Chester stared at him, and Johnny added, “Now.”
Chester muttered something about police brutality and then hung his head, appearing like a dead man walking as he headed for the wall. “I can explain . . . ”
“I’d like to hear you try, you low-down, lying, dirty cur dog. If brains were lard, you’d be hard pressed to grease a pan.”
Jack chimed in. “I think a half-wit gave him a piece of his mind, and he held onto it.”
Chester began dismantling the bricks, and Johnny and Jack helped once they saw what he was doing. Ezzie was going so berserk, Jack picked her up and placed her in the room o
nce they’d gotten half the bricks down. She rushed to Ima Jean and then sat next to her and barked. When Jack looked up, she looked back as if to say, “Piece of cake.”
“We’re going to take you back to your sister, Ms. Moxley. Hold on one more minute, and we’ll get you out of this place,” Johnny spoke soothingly to her.
Her answer was: “How do you spell relief? R-O-L-A-I-D-S.”
On the way home, Ima Jean sat in the back passenger seat. At every stop sign, she’d say, “Pots.” She did this four or five times and then she wondered out loud, “Just where are these pots and how much are they selling them for?”
Johnny looked at Jack, who whispered, “Well, old Chester was right about one thing: she ain’t right in the head.”
You will need:
apple pie filling
crust
pie topping
salted caramel sauce
Salted Caramel Sauce
2 cups granulated sugar
1½ sticks unsalted butter (¾ cup)
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 tablespoon (or more or less) sea salt
In a thick-bottomed, heavy saucepan, cook the sugar on low-medium heat. Do not stir the sugar, but you can swirl the pan around to mix it that way. The sugar will begin to turn an amber color.
Watch the sugar carefully as it can burn quite easily. Once it reaches 350°, add all of the butter, whisking quickly to combine.
Remove the saucepan from the heat and whisk in heavy cream.
Mix in salt and let cool.
Once cool, pour into an airtight container.
Prepare the crust:
2 cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons shortening
2 tablespoons cold butter
7 tablespoons orange juice
In a large bowl mix together the flour and salt and then cut in the shortening and butter. Once the mixture resembles crumbs, slowly add the orange juice. With a fork, mix until the mixture begins to form a ball. Divide ball into two pieces, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate at least 30 minutes.
