by K C Hart
“All he would tell her was to look at the music store.”
Todd pulled the pen from his pocket and flipped a page in his little notebook. “I’m still not convinced it wasn’t a drug deal. But if the music store is, or was, involved, we need to follow up.”
Katy slowly tapped her chin with her pointer finger. “And if the music store is involved with this murder, then her murder is probably linked to Rob Clay’s murder.” Her eyes began to roam around the room as she connected the dots. “And if those murders are connected, then the same person may have killed both people.”
“Well, hallelujah,” John’s hands flew in the air causing Katy to jump. “I bet you my prized coon dog that Emma has an alibi for this latest murder.” He looked from Katy to Todd. “It’s about time them two got some good news.”
“Don’t get too excited yet, Uncle John. This is all just a bunch of guessing.”
“But you will check it out?” Katy asked. “I just know in my gut that Donnie Gibson is involved.”
“Of course. I want to make sure we get whoever did this as much as anybody. I imagine I’ll be going to visit the Buford County jail to speak with Brock Newman before this week is over.
Chapter Nineteen
“Looks like y’all are rocking and rolling.” Katy stepped onto the office scales and winced as Trudy Mae wrote down the number.
“Girl, it’s been this way all week long. I’m trying to talk Doc into hiring somebody part-time before I drop dead from exhaustion. You wouldn’t be interested in working here, would you?”
“Probably not. I’m trying to stay semi-retired, or at least part-time, but I’ll spread the word if you want me to.”
Trudy Mae talked over her shoulder as she led Katy down the narrow office hallway. “Why don’t you just text me if you think of somebody? Doc ain’t one-hundred percent on board with this idea yet. He might want to wait until the winter when things really get crazy before he puts anybody else on the payroll.” She watched as Katy climbed onto the padded examination table. “So, you are just here for med refills, right? No problems?”
“That’s it. And I appreciate you letting me come on back. I’m strung out from can to can’t, trying to get everything ready for next Friday.”
“Oh, that’s right, the Battle of the Bands is coming up a week from today. Momma is wanting to go. I’ll have to call her in a bit and remind her it’s next week. She wants to cheer you on.” She pulled the blood pressure cuff from the wall basket and wrapped it around Katy’s waiting arm. “Your pressure is normal,” she said when she took the stethoscope out of her ears, “but borderline high normal.”
“It’s probably because I’m excited about the competition getting close. And then hearing about Pam Newman’s murder did upset me a little.” And all the greasy fried food and junk food I’ve been eating.
“I heard about that woman getting killed.” Trudy Mae hung the cuff back in the basket and placed two fingers on Katy’s wrist to check her pulse. “Some of our patients said she was a meth head that moved into the projects a while back. I don’t guess I ever met her.”
“She lived in the low-income apartments across town, but I’m sure she wasn’t a meth head.”
“Either way, it’s just sad. A person should be able to feel safe in their own home, no matter what part of our town they live in.”
“Yeah. That’s why she had the huge German Shepherd living in that tiny apartment with her. She said that it made her feel secure.” Katy sighed. “Poor fellow. They were going to put him down after she died, so we took him home with us.”
“You’ve got the dead girl’s giant attack dog?” Trudy Mae rolled her eyes. “Next thing you know, you’ll be coming in here having to get your arm sewn back on. Girl, you are just too much.”
“Naah, Moose wouldn’t hurt a flea. I admit, he’s pretty scary looking, but he’s just a big ole fur baby.”
“If you say so.” Trudy Mae raised an eyebrow as she peered at Katy. “I ain’t claiming to be an animal expert, but we take care of more dog bites than you would think. People come in here having to get a tetanus shot and stitches because they thought they knew their dog so well. We even had a couple of folks come in this past week. You just be careful.” She opened the exam room door and placed Katy’s folder in the slot outside. “Doc should be in here in just a minute.”
Katy pulled her straw from the paper wrapper. Misty had called while she was waiting for Dr. Roberts to write her prescriptions, wanting to meet at The Burger Barn for lunch. She looked at her cheeseburger and fries and sighed. She knew she should have ordered better, especially after seeing her weight, but she could feel the tension knotting her stomach. She would get serious about her diet after the competition next week…maybe. “Do you think our matching t-shirts and blue jeans will be nice enough for the competition?”
“They will have to be,” Misty replied. “We don’t have enough time to get anything else. Besides, if it’s good enough for the nursing home crowd, it’s good enough for the high school auditorium.”
“You’re right.” Katy picked a fry from her plate and dipped it in ketchup. “It’s just that The Bluegrass Babes are always so decked out with their fringed leather vests and all the sequins and rhinestones and stuff.”
“But they also have those matching platinum blond bee-hive hairdos.” Misty languidly took her pointer finger and twirled it around a strand of ebony hair near her face. “Do you really want to pattern our look after theirs?”
“I see your point. I guess I’m just getting a case of the jitters. We need to stick to what we’ve practiced with no last-minute changes.”
“Speaking of last-minute changes, Tubby was in the shop this morning getting Emma some roses, and guess what he said?”
Katy’s cheeseburger paused half-way between the plate and her mouth. “Nothing bad, I hope. I keep hoping things will start looking up for them. They’ve been through a lot.”
“Well, nothing bad, really. At least nothing to do with Emma and the murder accusation.”
“Thank goodness.” Katy returned the cheeseburger to her plate. “Tubby hasn’t done anything crazy like taking a slug at Todd has he?”
“No, nothing like that, either. He just said that he’s too nervous to sing.” Misty picked up an onion ring and raised it to her lips. “Joe is going to be lead singer on their songs at the competition.”
“Poor Tubby.” Katy pushed back the half-eaten plate of her comfort foods. “I guess the competition is the least of his worries.”
“Well, I need to confess that I’m more than a little worried about you taking Pam Newman’s dog.” She paused to take a sip of her soda. “I know you’re trying to help the animal, but are you sure he’s safe? What if he gets nervous and attacks you?”
“First of all, John thinks he’s a good dog, and you know that man has a way with animals. Second, he’s in the back yard with Belinda, not actually in our house. He’s not vicious, just a large, scary-looking dog. That’s why she had him in the first place, to scare off any shady characters.”
“That obviously didn’t work out as she planned.”
“Wait a minute.” Katy slowly bit her bottom lip. “What if it did work, just not exactly as she had planned?”
“I’m not following.” Misty wiped her greasy fingers on the paper napkin. “It obviously didn’t work, or the girl wouldn’t be dead.”
“But her neighbors said they heard a crash then the dog went ballistic. After that, they heard the car tearing away.” Katy’s forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember Mr. Cleveland’s exact words. “What if the crash was the dog breaking out of the bedroom when he heard his owner being attacked?”
“So, maybe the dog broke out of the bedroom and then attacked the killer?” Misty slowly nodded her head. “Maybe that’s why he left in such a hurry.”
“Exactly.” Katy waved her hand in the air above her plate of forgotten food. “Trudy Mae told me that Dr. Roberts treated a couple of dog bites ear
lier this week. I didn’t make a connection then because I was worried about my weight. But now that I think about it, Moose probably did go after the killer. The old couple next door said he was showing out something awful, and that’s why they called the police, because the dog wouldn’t shut-up.”
“Was he still shut up in the bedroom when the police got there?”
“No, he wasn’t.” Katy reached in her purse to find her phone. “He was at Pam’s side on the living room floor, baying like he had just lost his best friend.”
“Are you calling Todd?”
“No, Trudy Mae. She acted like dog bites are fairly common, but if one of those people she said was bitten happens to be Donnie Gibson, then we may have found Pam’s killer.”
Misty watched as Katy pulled her phone from her purse and punched in the number. “But why Donnie Gibson?”
“Because Brock, Pam’s brother, said his drug dealing had something to do with the music store. Donnie Gibson owns the music store.”
Katy chewed her fingernail as she waited for Trudy Mae to answer. “Hey Trudy, I have a quick question. Was Donnie Gibson one of the people bitten by a dog that you were telling me about? I’m not trying to be nosy. It has to do with the woman we were talking about that got killed.” She stared across the table as she listened to the voice on the cell. A smile spread across her face. “So, it was pretty nasty, huh?” Her head began to slowly bob up and down. “Yeah, you are so right. You just can’t be too careful with dogs. Yeah, I’ll see you later. Bye.” Katy lowered the phone and looked Misty in the eye. “We’ve got him.”
Saturday evening, John watched as Katy looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “What did Todd say yesterday afternoon when you told him what Trudy Mae said about the dog bite?”
“He said that they were already looking into Donnie Gibson for some other things, but if he had dog bite marks anywhere on his body, that might help connect him to Pam Newman’s murder. And apparently, ole Donnie has taken over the drug business now that Rob Clay is out of the picture. Todd didn’t give me a lot of details, but he said that Brock was going to Donnie to get his supply now that Rob is no longer available. They just picked Donnie Gibson up out at his momma’s house. Todd said that when he and the sheriff went to see Brock Newman this morning, he was very upset about his sister and wanted to cooperate in any way he could. The boy said that Rob Clay has been his drug connection for several years. Brock would buy marijuana from him to sell in nearby counties. Rob wouldn’t let him sell it here in Skeeterville. Brock lives in Buford County and Pam did too until a few weeks ago when Rob talked her into moving here. He liked Brock staying where he was because he could keep selling to his regular customers.
“That guy was just a jerk on all levels.” John said, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. “Can you believe that he was willing to ruin the lives of kids in other places to make a buck, but not here in good ole Skeeterville? I’m sure he did it that way to keep his clean reputation, not because he was worried about the children in our area.”
Katy tugged at the corner of her Moonlighters t-shirt. “Do you think I should wear your t-shirt next Friday? This one seems to be getting a little snug?”
“No, yours looks fine. Besides, I don’t have time to order me a new one.” John pushed off the doorframe and came to stand behind Katy. “When y’all win this thing, I plan on having my picture in the paper with the rest of you. Me and Mike are the official Moonlighters road crew. I need to wear my t-shirt to get my proper recognition.”
“Road crew, huh?” Katy smiled as his arms reached around her waist from behind. “I thought you were managers.”
“Yeah, right. The day that you and Misty Anderson are managed by anybody is the day that I eat my hat.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the top of the head. “I’m glad, however, that I don’t have to worry about you trying to figure out all of this criminal business anymore. I’ll be able to sleep a lot better knowing they have finally caught this guy.”
“I will, too. But something’s not adding up right.” Katy picked up the hairbrush from the sink and began to rake it through her hair. “Did Donnie Gibson kill his cousin because he was the actual father of Jennifer? That’s kind of what I was thinking. Then he turned around and killed Pam Newman because she found out he was dealing drugs with her brother.” The hairbrush moved slowly across the back of her hair. “Something is not right, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Look, you need to get your mind off all this stuff that doesn’t concern you and start concentrating on tonight’s final practice.” He looked down at his watch. “We need to leave in about ten minutes. I want to hear how you sound on the school’s sound system and make sure they have all of the mics blended right so the harmonies are at their best.”
“You’re right.” Katy laid the brush down and turned to face her husband. “They’re out looking for Donnie, and Emma seems to be off the hook. That’s what matters.”
“Exactly. Just let Sheriff Reid and Todd and the rest of the police figure out all the details. You have other things to think about tonight.”
She turned off the bathroom light and followed John toward the front of the house. She would look back over her notes tonight, once the practice was over and she could focus. Something wasn’t adding up, but she was sure she would figure it out once she sat down and went over everything again.
Chapter Twenty
Early Monday morning, John grabbed the fifty-pound bag of dog food from his truck bed and tossed it onto his shoulder. “The memorial service is scheduled for the end of next week. Her body will be released from custody next Tuesday, and then the cremation will be that Thursday. Brother Scott contacted her brother. They don’t have any other kin and no money to cover the funeral costs.”
Katy stifled a yawn as she followed John into the storeroom. “That is really sweet that the church is paying for her service.” She watched as he lowered the sack onto a worktable and ripped open the top.
“We discussed it last night after church. It won’t be fancy, but it will give the kid some closure. Plus, it’s the right thing to do.” He filled two massive dog bowls to the brim then walked through the kitchen and out the patio door. “Chow time, children.”
Both dogs took off from the other side of the yard at a gallop toward the waiting breakfast. “You certainly don’t have to call them twice,” Katy said, as the dogs buried their heads in the waiting food.
“Eat up, my boy,” John said, patting the German Shepherd on his head. “I have to load you up in a bit to take you to the vet.”
“Will you have time to do that before work?” Katy asked, setting two bowls of water down near the ravenous pets. “I can help if you need me.”
“I’m going in a little late this morning, then staying a little late this afternoon.”
They walked back into the kitchen, and Katy turned on the water at the sink to wash her hands. “I think I’ll put a roast in the crock pot this morning, so I won’t have to worry about forgetting to cook supper this afternoon.”
“Good plan. What else is on your agenda? I need my suit put in the cleaners if you have time.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” She dried her hands on a kitchen towel as she looked up at him. “I don’t have to work today. I was thinking I might drive to Buford County this morning.” She picked up a mug from the drainer and turned her back to John as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
John crossed his arms over his chest and waited till she turned back around. “Any particular reason for this trip?”
“Now, don’t go getting all huffy. I’m not looking for trouble. I just want to go see Brock Newman and tell him how sorry I am about his sister.” She paused and raised the steaming mug toward her lips. “Like you were saying, he is all alone now.”
“For somebody who never looks for trouble, you sure do have a way of finding your fair share.” He rubbed the dark stubble along his jawline. “Well, be careful. I don’t have time to
debate. I have to shave and shower, then me and the big boy have to hit the road.” He turned to walk out of the room. “And don’t forget to check in. I put a reminder on your phone last night for every two hours.”
“Is that really necessary?” Katy felt in her robe pocket for her phone. “This thing is basically over.”
“Humor me.”
The Buford County jail was easy enough to find. She watched as Brock, clothed in a bright orange jumpsuit that hung on his thin frame, walked into the holding room, followed closely by a man in blue. Brock sat down in a metal chair at a long foldout table, and Katy walked over and sat down across from him. The fluorescent lighting and the pale gray cinderblock walls emitted a feeling of institutional life.
“Hello, Brock. I’m Katy Cross. We haven’t met, but you may remember seeing me at Rob Clay’s wake.”
“No ma’am, I didn’t, but Pam has mentioned you.”
“Well,” Katy cleared her throat, “I wanted to let you know how sorry I am about your sister. I was just getting to know her, but we got along so well. I really liked her.”
He blinked hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “She was all I had. I told the two cops that came over Saturday everything about the drugs I’ve been selling. Mr. Rob supplied me for the past year, and everything was fine. But that cousin of his is a nutcase and don’t know what he’s doing.” He lifted his arm and wiped the rough orange material across his nose. “I hope what I told them helps to find out who did that to her.”
“I think it already has. They arrested Donnie Gibson yesterday afternoon.” She watched as he wiped his nose again on his sleeve. “I would offer you a tissue, but they made me leave my purse in a locker up front.”
“That’s alright. I’m glad that guy is behind bars, and I hope they keep him there.” He swallowed hard and sniffed again. “I’ve been acting like this ever since that preacher came by yesterday afternoon. I just can’t believe I’m going to have to watch my sister be put in the ground. Especially now.”
