by J. B. Hawker
“We’ve got a positive ID on the hanged man, sir. It was the missing person from Shasta Lake. Name of Winston Thomas. He was a forty-two year-old man, single, unemployed, still living with his mother. He went out one evening a couple of days before his body turned up and failed to return home. Apparently, he often stayed away overnight. His mother reported him missing when he didn’t return after three days.”
“Any report on his activities or whereabouts during the time he was missing?”
“The mother gave us a list of his friends and we’re checking them out.”
“Good. Finally, we have a bit of a break. Now, maybe things will start to come together. Let me know as soon as we get the lab reports back on the tissue samples from the arm and head. We need to know if we are dealing with two murders, here, or three.”
Fuchs was beginning to think he should have remained in the south. These rural northern counties were quiet most of the time, but when something happened, it was a doozy.
Chapter 12
You brought hard times on your people, and you gave us wine that made us stagger.– Psalm 60:3
Bunny was sitting on a high stool at a little round table near the window at the Appaloosa Bar and Grill, around the corner from the newspaper office. She was toying with a glass of white zinfandel.
It made her feel sort of uneasy to be drinking wine in public. All those years of being the pastor’s wife were hard to shake off.
When Max invited her for a drink after work, she almost refused instinctively, before overcoming her old habits and agreeing to come.
Max returned to the table and lifted his glass in a toast.
“To us, and another successful week getting the paper out. We are a good team, Honey.”
Bunny sipped her wine and smiled.
“Thanks, Max. I’ve enjoyed working with you these past weeks. It’s great to feel like I’m doing a good job.”
“You have been. You are a good worker. But, that’s not all I meant. We work well together, true, but it’s just been great being with you, again. I’d forgotten how funny you can be.”
“I suppose in those last years we were together, I sort of lost my sense of humor,” Bunny said.
She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about this.
“You are a lot more laid back and enjoyable to be with now, too, you know,” Bunny added.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I made lots of stupid mistakes, when I was young…still do, I suppose, but at least I try not to make the same mistakes. I really mean it when I say I’m sorry, Bunny. I just never realized how much one person could hurt another until I was on the receiving end of some of the hurt myself. When that happened, I was just overwhelmed at all the pain I must have caused in my life, living the way I did.”
Max’s voice was gruff with emotion as he spoke.
Bunny was surprised at how strongly his words affected her.
She had not realized she still needed to hear him acknowledge her feelings and apologize.
Max reached across the table and took her hand.
She began to feel a once-familiar heat and heaviness in her thighs and thought to herself, “You haven’t even finished one drink; you shouldn’t be having Reaction Number Two!”
The bit of humor, although not spoken aloud, eased her tension and helped her relax a bit.
“Thank you, Max. That means a lot to me. As I told you before, I forgave you a long time ago. I know I wasn’t the best wife to you in those days, either. Like you said, we were both awfully young. I think I’ve matured a bit since then and I imagine you have, too.”
They chatted about less personal things for only a few moments before Bunny set down her empty glass and rose.
“This has been nice, Max. Thanks for suggesting it. I’d love to stay longer, but I’m afraid you’d better take me home, now, or I’m going to miss choir practice.”
“Choir practice? So, you are still involved with the church, huh? I thought maybe you’d drop it, now your husband’s gone,” Max remarked.
“Why no...my belief had nothing to do with my husband being a pastor. My faith is strong more in spite of my marriage, than because of it. I was a Christian long before I met Eustace, and I was always an active church member. It’s hard to be a Christian without a church fellowship for support and reinforcement.”
Max made no further comment as he paid for their drinks and escorted Bunny to his car.
It was a short, quiet ride to Bunny’s bungalow.
When they arrived, she quickly thanked Max and hopped out, waving.
“See you at the office tomorrow,” she called, as she let herself into her home.
Bunny grabbed an apple from the basket in the kitchen, crunching it down quickly and tossing its core at the sink, then dashed into the bathroom to brush her teeth (wine on one’s breath at a Baptist choir practice was a definite no-no) and scurried back out the door.
Piano and organ music rolled into the night as Bunny approached the church. She supposed that Emily Ann and her daughter-in-law must be inside, already, running through the evening’s rehearsal numbers.
Thanks to hurrying, Bunny was a little early for her first night back at choir practice since Eustace’s death.
She was chilled from her walk and the warm interior of the church felt welcoming.
It seemed strange to be stepping back into this part of her old life, after making so many changes, but she missed the music and needed to be part of the choir, again.
Emily looked up from the dual keyboards of the organ and smiled brightly. She swiveled around on the bench and ran down the aisle without stopping to slip into her shoes.
“Oh Bunny! I’m so glad to have you back. This is wonderful. Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming tonight? I would have picked you up.”
Bunny hugged her friend and thanked her for the warm welcome.
The other singers began arriving.
Bunny gladly accepted Emmy’s offer of a lift home, as the two friends made their way to their places for the rehearsal.
Back in her little house after choir practice, Bunny pondered the events of the evening.
Drinking wine and feeling romantic with her first husband one moment, and singing praises to God the next, made an odd combination, somehow.
When Bunny and Max were together in the old days, God didn’t play a very big role in their lives.
Although they grew up attending the same Methodist church, they never seemed to think about it much.
Max’s parents were very active church members, with more time for committees and Bible studies than for their son.
Bunny’s own mother and father dropped their daughters off at Sunday school in order to enjoy a more peaceful Sunday morning.
It was little wonder their children’s faith had been lukewarm.
After the divorce, Bunny began to pay attention in church, and to read her Bible and believe it. Her faith became the cornerstone upon which she built her life. Greater involvement in the church family grew naturally.
Max took a different path.
When he left her, it was for a life filled with good times, material success and many women. God had no part in such a life.
Bunny was aware of all this, but after work, when he held her hand, all the differences and all the years melted away.
She responded to his touch as she always had. It frightened her a little.
Not that she feared Max would force himself on her, or anything like that. She was afraid of her own lack of restraint.
Through the years of marriage to Eustace, Bunny had begun to believe she was no longer a desirable woman.
Eustace did not believe in sex, except for procreation.
When they had discovered Bunny could not have children, he had turned away from her, preferring a spiritual union on some sort of higher plane.
He had never been able to provide any satisfactory Biblical basis for his philosophy and would become angry when she pressed him about his uno
rthodox attitude.
He made her feel foolish and unwholesome for bringing up the subject. So, Bunny supposed that part of her life was over.
Tonight she had reacted to Max’s touch and the look in his eyes as a woman.
It had shaken her.
Max meant for her to respond. She knew him well and could still read the signs.
If Bunny had invited him in for coffee or a meal, he would have expected it to end in bed.
That part of their relationship had always been wonderful. It just wasn’t ever enough for Max. He craved variety.
When she’d spoken about her faith earlier that evening, the light in his eyes went out and he pulled back into himself.
His reaction was a blessing for Bunny. She couldn’t honestly say what she would have done if he had turned on the full force of his charm.
It had been a long, long time...
Forcing herself to stop thinking along such dangerous lines, she turned her thoughts to choir practice.
It was such fun being back with her friends singing the kind of songs she loved. Everyone seemed happy to have her back, too.
The new pastor’s wife, Elizabeth, was there. She had a lovely alto voice, but was a quiet little thing and scarcely spoke a word.
Bunny had missed the lead tenor.
She’d feared Bob Miller had dropped out of the choir, but when she asked, Emmy said he had not quit, so he must have been sick or out of town.
Bob, an unmarried accountant, was usually very reliable. She hoped he was not seriously ill. They would need his voice for the Christmas cantata.
As Max drove home after dropping Bunny off, he was annoyed, with both himself and Bunny.
Everything was going so well between them, until she started all that church talk.
He was surprised to hear her take all that mumbo-jumbo so seriously.
Max was feeling more and more drawn to Bunny, as they spent time together.
She made him laugh for one thing, and he hadn’t laughed a lot in the last few years.
She also had a knack for making him feel young, as though they were both teen-agers. He liked the feeling.
He liked Bunny. He always had.
Even during the times in their marriage when he had played around with other women, he still wanted Bunny, too.
It should be no surprise he wanted her now. However, he wanted the fun, sexy Bunny, not some sanctimonious church lady.
“Oh, well. It probably wasn’t a good idea, anyway,” Max shrugged and pulled into the parking lot of his apartment.
“Think I’ll have another beer and forget about it. There are only a few days until the judging for the contest. It will be a busy week. I guess it’s just as well I’m going to have an early night, after all.”
He shook his head ruefully and walked into his home.
Across town, another man was entering his home, where he would be spending the night alone.
This man looked more satisfied with his evening’s activities than Banks did.
Everything had gone perfectly. The hard work of the past few days had been well worth it.
He was tired and hungry, but eager to get everyone’s reaction to his latest creation.
He couldn’t help giggling to himself when he thought about it.
As he prepared a simple meal of macaroni and cheese from a packaged mix and fish sticks from the freezer, he continued to chuckle to himself.
This was going to be a very exciting week.
Chapter 13
Let wisdom be your sister and make common sense your closest friend.
– Proverbs 7:4
When Bunny arrived at work the next morning, she met Max going out of the door.
“Bunny, the police are going to make a statement about that body found hanging in the tree. I think they have identified the victim. I’ll be out of the office for an hour, or so.”
His tone of voice sounded detached, almost unfriendly, as he turned away and left.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Bunny,” she admonished herself and she settled down to work.
Still, she felt snubbed and missed the casual intimacy of the past few days.
At City Hall, the low-key public relations officer read a brief statement to the few local and regional reporters who had come to hear the latest findings in the murder case.
Max could not figure out why there was so little statewide or national interest in this story. It was a natural for the week before Halloween.
Maybe that was why, though. Perhaps the members of the high profile media didn’t want to appear to be exploiting personal tragedy in the name of ratings?
Nah, that couldn’t be it.
Recent political scandals and celebrity misbehavior must be taking all the media’s energy, just now.
Banks wrote down the name and vital statistics of the victim and noted the man’s mother lived in Shasta Lake.
He thought he might take a drive over there and see if he could get an interview.
The police didn’t seem to have much more to give them and he needed to fatten up his story a little for the coming edition.
With his weekly paper, he couldn’t hope to compete with breaking news, but maybe he could get a bit more of the human interest angle. It was worth a try.
Max wasn’t too anxious to return to the office, anyway.
He had felt awkward with Bunny this morning. Why did she have to go and get religion, anyway?
After looking up all the Thomas listings in the Shasta Lake directory in the vandalized pay phone of a gas station, he slipped his cell phone from the clip on his belt and began calling the numbers.
On the fourth Thomas, he got lucky. The fellow who answered was the dead man’s uncle.
“Mr. Thomas, I’m sorry to intrude in your time of loss, but I was trying to reach Winston’s mother. I was hoping she might talk to me about her son,” Banks said.
“Well, now, I don’t think Ruth is feeling up to talking to any reporters, just yet. She’s pretty busted up about her boy and all. But, I’m not so very upset. What did you want to know?” Mr. Thomas asked.
Banks jumped at the chance to interview the victim’s uncle and arranged to meet at his house.
Thomas seemed eager to get his name in the paper.
Arriving at the man’s home, Max noticed a jack-o-lantern on the sagging front porch, and was surprised anyone in the Thomas family would feel like celebrating the holiday, under the circumstances.
He supposed in all the upheaval no one thought to get rid of the decorations.
Elmer Thomas opened the door before Banks had a chance to knock.
“Come on in, Mr. Banks...that’s who you are, isn’t it? I don’t get too many visitors, so I was pretty sure it must be you, when I saw your big black car pull up. That’s quite a rig you’ve got.”
Elmer Thomas was a large, florid man, in his late sixties, wearing faded blue denim overalls, unsnapped at the sides, and a once-white tee shirt straining to cover his belly.
His fringe of yellowish-white hair stuck out at odd angles, giving him the appearance of a man whose sole use for a comb would be to make a tissue paper kazoo.
Max stepped carefully into a stale, cluttered, over-furnished and over-heated living room.
The chairs, in various stages of dilapidation, sported blankets and throws in a spectrum of dingy colors.
A bug-eyed overweight Chihuahua struggled to climb down from one of the two sofas. It caught a toenail in the yarn of a chevron-patterned crocheted afghan and pulled the cover down on top of itself.
The dog began a high-pitched keening.
Thomas pulled off the cover, picked up the elderly dog and began to croon to it in a soothing voice, as if comforting a small child.
“It’s alright, Baby.”
He addressed Banks over his shoulder.
“Just sit anywhere, fella.”
“Here, move that pile of magaz
ines. Just dump ‘em on the floor. It don’t make me no never mind,” Thomas commented as he settled himself and the dog into a broken down recliner.
Banks did as he was instructed, sitting in an orange Naugahyde chair striped with silver duct tape.
From the sharp jab he felt in his thigh, Max discovered the chair was overdue for another patch job.
He shifted his weight and began the interview by asking Thomas when he had last seen his nephew.
“Can’t rightly say. Winnie didn’t come around here that much. He spent most of his time playing games on his computer or hanging around with some friends of his. He wasn’t the sort to come and help out his old uncle, that’s for sure. Why, I asked him more than once to help me jack up my front porch, it’s starting to sag a little, you see, and he said he didn’t have the time. Can you imagine that? Why, seems to me, that’s all that boy had was time. He sure never did nothing with it. He wasn’t much help to his mother, either. He moved back home when my brother died...must be almost twenty years now...said it was to help his mama, but it looked more as if it was so he could help himself. Course, you couldn’t tell Ruth that. She thought the sun and moon shined out of that boy. Boy, huh! Must’ve been near forty. Getting older never made a man of that one, for sure.”
“Mr. Thomas, did you know any of your nephew’s friends?” Max asked when the man grew silent.
“Nah. He talked about all these great friends of his, but from what I could gather most of ‘em lived inside the computer. I told him he was too big for imaginary friends. Ha, ha! That used to make him mad, all right. The boy never could take a joke.”
“So you never met any of the people he hung around with?” Banks prodded.
“There was one young kid who sometimes called at the house. He’d come by my sister-in-law’s place and he and Winnie would take off together. Sometimes Win wouldn’t get back for a day or so. He never said where they went or what they was up to. No good, I’m thinkin’.”
“Do you know this person’s name? Or would your sister-in-law know?”
“I think Winnie called him something like, Selwin or Delvin, something just a little odd, ya know?”
