Give Me Some Sugar

by Gen Griffin

  “But, what if that person is the person sabotaging your wedding?”

  “He's not.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because...” Cal glanced over at Trish and then back at Gracie, who shrugged. She had no idea whether Trish knew the truth about exactly how David had gotten his nose broken. “I just don't think this is an appropriate conversation for my future wife to be having with my mother.”

  Trish noticed Cal looking at her and covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. She appeared to be having a hard time holding back her laughter.

  Miss Loretta glanced over at Trish with obvious curiosity. Trish intentionally stared down at the floor. “I've missed something, haven't I?” Miss Loretta asked.

  “Yup. Let's keep it that way, Momma.” Cal smiled cheekily at his mother. “You said you wanted to see what the tables looked like when we finished them, and it looks to me like Dad and David have finished about three.” He held his arm out to his mother and she took it, allowing him to lead her across the room to where David and Jerry Walker were surveying a very crooked tablecloth with obvious masculine pride.

  Trish and Gracie stood by themselves next to the doorway for a moment longer and then Trish burst out laughing. She looked up from the floor and met Gracie's eyes. “I already know.”

  Gracie felt her cheeks beginning to burn again. “You do?”

  “Uh huh.” Trish nodded.

  “About me and...” Gracie couldn't quite bring herself to say his name.

  Trish nodded. “David's very honest. Sometimes a little too honest. We're all adults and I didn't really need to know. It wasn't like I knew him at the time.”

  Gracie felt a burst of relief go through her. “It would have been worse if he hadn't told you. It was bound to come up eventually. It's impossible to keep a secret in this town.”

  Trish opened her mouth to respond but whatever she said was drowned out by the scream of one very angry baby.

  “Wahhhhhhh! Wah! Wah! Wah!”

  The sound of a Hannah Mae's wails echoed loudly against the walls of the room, highlighting the effectiveness of the building's acoustics in a most unpleasant manner.

  “Oh dear,” said Trish. They both turned to see Katie standing in the doorway holding Hannah Mae's car seat carrier. Katie's honey colored hair had escaped from its ponytail and formed a helmet of limp, sad frizz around her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she wrangled the heavy carrier into the room and set it down on the nearest table. Her blue t-shirt had infant spit-up dried on the collar and shoulder.

  “I'm sorry,” Katie said as Gracie walked over to her, leaving Trish to finish arranging the welcome table. “Ian dropped her off at the Sheriff's department twenty minutes before I got off of work. I don't know where he went. I was on the phone when he came in and he was gone before I could get Amelia Baxter to shut up about how her garden gnomes have come to life and keep stealing all her toilet paper.” She'd finished freeing Hannah Mae from the straps of the car-seat, but the baby's screams of displeasure hadn't let up. Katie picked her up as she simultaneously tried to open up her diaper bag. “I'm pretty sure she's hungry. Maybe wet too. I don't know. She was all worked up when Ian dropped her off and I tried to feed her because that's normally what the problem is, but by that point she'd gotten herself so mad that she just spit her formula right back up. I thought maybe the car ride would calm her down, and it did, but she started howling again the minute I parked.”

  “Give her to me.” Miss Loretta appeared out of nowhere and plucked Hannah Mae from Katie's arms without waiting for her response. She cuddled the baby against her and began gently making soothing noises. Hannah Mae's wails quieted almost immediately.

  Katie blinked with unexpected relief. She pulled a bottle and a the can of formula out of her bag, mixing the baby's dinner quickly. Gracie couldn't help noticing that her friend's hands were shaking.

  “Are you okay?” She asked.

  “I'm fine,” Katie said quickly. “Just a little stressed out.”

  “You look like you're about to start crying,” Gracie pointed out. “And you never cry.”

  “I haven't had a great day,” Katie acknowledged. She carefully wiped her eyes, as if she were concerned about smearing the eye makeup she wasn't wearing. “How are we doing here? On the set up for tomorrow, I mean. I talked to Trish a couple of hours ago and she told me y'all think you got everything straightened out.”

  “We're going to be fine. Believe it or not, I think we're pretty much on schedule. Cal and David are in the middle of lugging another batch of chairs up from the storage building. They've already gotten the tables in and are working on putting the tablecloths on.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I don't really know.” Gracie shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the room. “Trish and Miss Loretta are the ones with the giant binder full of wedding plans and the schedule. I guess you and I could borrow Miss Loretta's truck and run back down to the house to get our dresses.”

  “Why do we need to get the dresses?” Katie asked. “I thought we were getting ready at Cal's parent's house. You don't want to do the rehearsal in full formal wear, do you? ”

  “God no. We were going to get ready at the house, but Amberly is supposed to do our hair and makeup. She said it would be much easier for her if we'd get ready somewhere in town. The church has huge full service bathrooms, plus Pastor James says we can use the prayer room for getting ready. He says everyone who gets married at the church does.”

  Katie considered what Gracie was saying and then bobbed her head in agreement. “The church has the best air conditioner in town. At least we know our make up won't wind up sweating off before your ceremony. The high temperature for tomorrow is supposed to be 92 degrees, and that's not counting humidity.”

  “I saw the forecast,” Gracie said. “My only worry is that we'll forget something important if we wait until tomorrow morning to take the dresses over to the church. We're just going to have so much going on.”

  “You won't have to worry about that if we take everything to the church today,” Katie said.

  “Exactly. You want to ride with me? Make sure I don't forget my shiny new corset?”

  Katie smiled for the first time since she'd come into the reception hall. “Sure, but I can't just leave Hannah Mae behind. My mom is supposed to be coming to pick her up in about thirty minutes. Can you wait that long?”

  “Sure. We're not in that big of a rush,” Gracie replied. “We aren't supposed to be at the church for our actual wedding rehearsal until six o'clock tonight.”

  “Rehearsal at six, dinner at seven thirty?” Katie recited the schedule from memory.

  Gracie gave her a thumbs up. “You've got it.”

  “Good.” Katie opened her mouth as if she was going to say something else, but then she seemed to hesitate.

  “What's wrong?” Gracie asked.

  “You don't happen to know where Studmuffin is, do you?” Katie's question took Gracie by surprise. “He came into the sheriff's department earlier to dump Kerry off with Sully, but I didn't catch where he was heading afterwards. I know he's off duty for today and the rest of the weekend.”

  “I don't know where he is either. He told me earlier that he was going to run a few errands and then come down here. Just between you and me, my guess is that 'run some errands' was code for 'go screw Makinsley for a few hours'.”

  “Lovely,” Katie sighed and then shook her head with obvious disgust.

  “You could call him.”

  “Why bother?” Katie asked, averting her eyes so that she was looking at the tables surrounding them instead of at Gracie. “Let me take this bottle over to Miss Loretta and then we'll get started helping the boys with the tablecloths. They look like they're really struggling.” She pointed to where Cal and David had put one of the tablecloths on upside down.

  “You okay?” Gracie asked, not quite ready to let the conversation drop just yet.

 
Katie took a deep breath and then forced a smile that was anything but real. “I'm fine. I was going to ask Addison if he could track down Ian for me, but honestly, what's the point?”

  “Um...” Gracie wasn't very good at comforting people. Especially when she couldn't really see a solution.

  Katie shook the bottle in her hand and then stared at it as if she'd never seen it before in her life. “I'm too busy to babysit Ian tonight. I won't have time to babysit him tomorrow either. If he misses your wedding or, even worse, shows up drunk, just promise me you won't hold it against me?”

  “Ian wouldn't do that,” Gracie said quickly, trying her best to forget what Ian's friend Lowery had said the night before. “He can be a bit flaky but he's always around when something is important. I'm sure he'll be fine tomorrow.”

  “But if he's not?” Katie was plainly concerned. “He's been acting really weird lately.”

  “You know I'd never hold it against you,” Gracie said quickly, pulling Katie into a hug. “You're his wife, not his keeper.”

  “He needs a keeper,” Katie muttered. “And I'm getting tired of holding the job.”

  Chapter 34

  “You and I need to have a chat.” Sully sat down in the sheriff's desk chair and stared hard into the face of the man who was sitting across from him in handcuffs.

  Sully had been in Possum Creek for almost six months, the last two of which he'd been working for the sheriff's department as a temporary deputy. He'd never been assigned to partner with Deputy Kerry Longwood. He'd worked a burglary with the sheriff. He'd worked several drug cases with J.B. Mooney. He'd worked a dozen cases with Addy Malone. He had a pretty solid feel for everyone who worked for the Callahan County Sheriff's Department except for Kerry.

  “Why bother?” Kerry asked. He was staring straight down at his handcuffed wrists in his lap. He hadn't looked at Sully once since he'd been deposited in the chair by a very annoyed Addison. Addy had bolted out the door immediately after officially placing Kerry in Sully's custody. He'd muttered something about his sister's wedding and a screwed up flower order and then disappeared as fast as his boots would carry him.

  “Talk to me,” Sully tried his best to sound encouraging.

  “You're going to pin this murder on me. It doesn't matter whether I'm innocent or guilty.”

  “It matters to me,” Sully said.

  “Why?” Kerry looked up at him for the first time. “And don't even try to give me any crap about how I'm a fellow law enforcement officer or your friend. We both know that you're just like the rest of them.”

  “The rest of them?”

  “Addison. Ian. David Breedlove.”

  “That's unfair. I like Addison well enough as a person and I think he's a decent cop, but it's not a secret the two of you don't get along. Ian and I don't belong in the same category. With all due respect for the man, I'm a solid and honest cop while he's currently under investigation with the state due to illegal actions he's taken. As for Breedlove, I only know him by reputation.”

  “He's a jackass.”

  “He's Addison Malone's best friend. Y'all seem to have a lot of hard feelings between you.” Sully couldn't help noticing how sad and shrunken Kerry looked in his rumpled business clothes. “I've never intentionally wrongly convicted anyone for so much as a traffic violation. Maybe you should give a me a chance?”

  Kerry wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “Addison put that head in the trunk of my car. I know he did.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Who else would have done it?” Kerry countered.

  “Where would Addison have gotten the skull?” Sully didn't believe Addy was responsible for Beverly Jones's murder, but he needed to get a fix on Kerry's personality and thought processes. He couldn't do that unless the other man was talking.

  “I don't know. Maybe David robbed a grave for him. Or maybe it's Casey's skull and Ian finally remembered where he hid her body.” The anger was clear in Kerry's voice as he spat the last few words out through clenched teeth.

  “It bothers you that Ian can't tell anyone where Casey's body is.” Sully made it a statement rather than a question.

  “Everything about Casey's murder bothers me,” Kerry replied. “It bothered me eight years ago when she went missing without a trace and was never heard from again. It bothered me even more that she was last seen in the woods behind David's house. David is a scary son of a bitch. Let Addison and Cal Walker say what they want about David, he's not a good guy.”

  “You still think he's guilty?” Sully figured he already knew the answer to his own question. “Ian McIntyre confessed to accidentally hitting Casey with his truck when he was in high school.”

  “Spare me. I've heard Ian's story. He went out in the woods all by himself and accidentally hit Casey while she was walking down one of the trails. He didn't see her until it was too late. Blah, blah, blah. I've never seen Ian McIntyre have the motivation to so much as go eat lunch by himself, but everyone is willing to believe he hid a body without any help?”

  “Why would Ian confess to a murder he didn't commit?” Sully was curious but highly skeptical.

  “Ian and David are cousins. They've always been close.”

  “I love Tate. He's my best friend as well as my brother. I wouldn't take a murder rap for him.”

  “Not even if you knew you'd never face any consequences?” Kerry countered.

  Sully intentionally left that one alone. “You think Ian has gotten away with killing Casey?”

  “David has gotten away with killing Casey. Ian has gotten away with making a false confession.” Kerry shot Sully a cold glare. “No one has ever been able to find any physical evidence to confirm or deny what Ian said in his official statement. No one can find Casey's body, including Ian. Do the math,” Kerry said. “Trish is an attorney. She arranged Ian's plea deal with the Sheriff and the district attorney before Ian ever confessed. He's not on probation and he won't serve any time. The state agreed not to press charges in exchange for his confession. He's temporarily suspended from the department but everyone knows that isn't going to last. Frank's said as much. Ian has been temporarily inconvenienced by his murder confession. Nothing more.”

  “Hmm.” It was something for Sully to consider, but it wasn't putting him any closer to finding out what had happened to Beverly Jones or how her head had wound up in the trunk of Kerry's Audi.

  “Addison knows I'll never accept Ian's confession as the truth. I won't let Casey's death drop until she gets real justice and her body can be laid to rest with a proper burial.”

  “You think he put the head in your trunk to frame you?” Sully had a suspicion as to where this was headed.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “What would you say if I told you that my DNA sample came back and the head wasn't Casey's head?” Sully watched Kerry's reaction carefully.

  Kerry scoffed at him. “I'd wonder who Addison was sleeping with at the Baker County crime lab.”

  “I didn't take the skull to Baker County. I wanted to make sure I got a completely clean and unbiased assessment. I went all the way to Silver City,” Sully explained his own actions. “It's not Casey's head.”

  “Whose head is it?” Kerry asked. He looked curious for the first time since he'd been brought in for the interrogation.

  “A woman by the name of Beverly Jones. She lives roughly 30 minutes outside Beauton.”

  “I don't recognize the name,” Kerry said. His blue eyes were puzzled.

  Sully took a picture out of the file he'd brought in with him. It was a candid shot of Beverly laughing next to a beach somewhere in the Caribbean. Billy Jones had taken it off the wall and given it to Sully before he'd left Rockdale. He held the picture up for Kerry. “She look familiar?”

  “Not really. No.”

  “You ever seen her before in your life?”

  “I don't know,” Kerry said. “I don't think so. Maybe once at a gas station or something. There's something vaguely famil
iar about her.”

  “She was missing for two months before I found her head in the trunk of your car.”

  “I don't know her. I have no idea how her head would have wound up my car.”

  “Neither do I,” Sully said. He took a deep breath and then propped both of his elbows on the desk. “Kerry, this is an active murder investigation. Beverly Jones is a real victim with a very real family, just like Casey Black. I need your help and cooperation to solve her case and bring her family some closure.”

  “Addison-.”

  “Addison didn't put a complete stranger's head in the trunk of your car,” Sully cut him off. “I know you want to blame him, but I don't think he has anything to do with Beverly Jones's murder.”

  “Maybe David killed her and they decided to use the opportunity to frame me.”

  “Humor me for a minute. Let's take David and Addison off the board of potential players. If neither David or Addison had anything to do with the head in your trunk, then how do you think it could have gotten there?”

  “I was taken hostage by a murderer two months ago. I suppose its always possible that Curtis killed that woman and put her head in my trunk right before he died. He did have full access to my car. I don't exactly go through the trunk very often. Did Beverly Jones disappear before or after Curtis died?”

  “After,” Sully said.

  “Oh. I guess that theory won't hold water then, will it?” Kerry looked troubled. “Can you take these cuffs off of me? They're digging into my wrists.”

  “Can you give me anything that might help me solve this murder?” Sully countered.

  “I'm trying to,” Kerry said. He held out his wrists for Sully to remove the cuffs. “I'd be able to think more clearly if I could move comfortably.”

  Sully used his own handcuff key to remove the metal bracelets. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Kerry stretched his arms as far apart as he could and then popped each of his shoulders by rolling it in the joint. “I've never heard of Beverly Jones. I don't know how her head wound up in my car.”