Diana Anderson - Entering Southern Country 01 - Famous in a Small Town

by Diana Anderson

“I’m so sorry!” Raven looked at Suzanne.

  Suzanne looked at the dog and then threw her head back and laughed. Ted watched her for a long moment, and then he began to chuckle.

  A clap of thunder drew their attention. The dog whined. Raven gripped the leash tighter. Ted grabbed the tote of gardening tools, and they all hurried down the path toward the entrance of the park.

  38

  Angus picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Angus, I couldn’t find out a thing about your duffle bag,” Callie said.

  “Who’d you ask?”

  “I couldn’t get enough time with Cal to ask him anything. Every time I’ve been in the sheriff’s department, he’s been too busy to talk.”

  “What about Agnes? Have you asked her?”

  “Well, no. But she’s not going to know anything.”

  “How would you know that unless you ask her?”

  “Trust me. She doesn’t have a lick of sense to know anything about a duffle bag.”

  Angus gritted his teeth and looked up at the ceiling of the study.

  “Are you still there?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m still here.” He drew in a long breath and said, “She would know about a duffle bag, because she brought one into the sheriff’s office the other day.”

  Silence.

  “Are you still there? Callie?”

  “Yes,” she said in a quiet voice. “You never told me that she brought it into the sheriff’s Department.”

  He rolled his eyes, slapped an open palm against his forehead, and cursed under his breath.

  “Did you just curse at me?”

  He raised his voice, “Look, Callie, just ask about the duffle bag. I don’t care how you go about it, just do it. Find out where she got the damn thing and what was in it.” When he slammed the receiver down, the telephone pinged.

  “Angus, are you okay?”

  He looked up from the phone and across the room. Suzanne stood in the doorway of the study. Her hair was down and water dripped from the ends. He’d only seen her hair down when she was getting ready for bed or getting up in the mornings. Her clothes were soaked.

  “Why are your clothes all wet?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I was at the park and got caught in the rain.”

  He scowled at the floor below her feet. “Well, you’re leaving a puddle on the hardwood floor. Go change. You look like a wet rat.”

  Her smile disappeared. She glanced down at the floor and then walked away.

  “Mavis? Mavis?” he yelled.

  A minute later, Mavis stepped in the doorway. “Sir?”

  “Clean that …” he motioned his hand in the direction of her feet, “mess up.”

  Mavis looked down at the floor at the puddle of water.

  “It’s just water. Now, hurry up about it before I forget it’s there and slip in it.”

  Mavis walked away.

  He opened a box on the desk, selected a cigar, and then opened a top drawer and shuffled around inside. He latched on to the V-cutter and clipped the head of the cigar. He picked up his table-top lighter and rolled the cigar between his fingers as he put the flame to the end. Satisfied, he put the cigar in his mouth and finished lighting it. He shut the drawer, leaned back in the chair, and puffed. Smoke rings drifted upwards.

  Mavis appeared at the door with a mop.

  “When is that woman going to hire a housekeeper?” he asked her.

  “Mrs. Rayburn called for one yesterday. They said they’d try to have someone here in a few days.”

  “In a few days?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He poked out his bottom lip and nodded. “Good, ‘cause you’re worthless when it comes to cleaning.” He swiped his finger across the top of his desk.

  Mavis’s lips thinned. She raised her head and looked at him.

  He looked at her. “You got a problem?”

  She shook her head. “No, sir.” Her jaw muscles worked as she put more elbow into the mop.

  39

  Justin stood in the doorway of Cal’s office. “When are you calling it a day?”

  Without looking up from a folder, Cal said, “In a few.”

  “Are those the forensic results?”

  “Uh huh. The fingerprints found inside the Jaguar belong to Jorge Ramirez and four other unknowns. Those results are being put through IAFIS to try to find out who all the mystery prints belong to. That will take several days. Of course, we know that if they’ve never been arrested or had a gun permit, then they more-than-likely have never been fingerprinted. Also the ballistics’ results on the bullet removed from Jorge’s body, and the bullets removed from the bodies of the Neals’ are from the same weapon. The casing found at the gravesite and the ones in the trailer were 9mm short. The rest in the report are about the fibers and hair found near the shallow gravesite. They are connected with what all was found inside the trailer.”

  Justin nodded and waited.

  Cal looked up. “You go on home. Take care of that pregnant wife of yours. I’ll talk with you more about it in the morning.” Cal looked back down and continued to read.

  “Sure.” A looked of disappointment covered Justin’s face. He made a half turn and stopped. “Sir?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The director at Johnson’s Funeral Home called about the services Saturday for the Neals. He said it was going to be graveside services. He just needs a couple of us out there directing traffic in and out of the cemetery.”

  “Put Miller and Hendrix on it.”

  He nodded, turned, and walked down the hallway.

  A few minutes later, Cal tossed the report on his desk and leaned back in his chair. He ran a hand over his jaw and felt the end of the day’s stubble. His gaze fell on the novel. He picked it up and stared down at the cover.

  Thunder rumbled outside and rain pelted the windowpane behind him. He swiveled his chair around and looked out the window. Lightning lit up the sky and brought with it a large clap of thunder.

  Raven was on his mind again as she had been since she’d been back. He knew she wouldn’t be staying after the funeral. She had no reason to stay. He had to think of a way to keep her from leaving so soon. He wanted to talk with her while he had the chance. He’d not had that opportunity before she’d left the first time. He wanted and needed to explain. He looked down at the paperback.

  I want her back in my life.

  He swiveled the chair back around and set the book down on his desk. He stood, reached down, and picked up the folder again. He walked across the room to the file cabinet near the pegboard. He opened the top drawer and dropped the folder inside. He turned toward the pegboard and scanned it for the right key. His brows knitted together. He reached up and flipped through each set of keys. He dropped his hand to his side and lifted his other and ran it through his hair. He stood there for a long moment before he reached back into the drawer and took out the folder. He stepped back to his desk, grabbed the novel and his hat, and walked out of his office. He locked the door behind him.

  He put his hat on, walked across the lobby, nodded to the night dispatcher, and headed out the door into the rain. He shielded the novel and the folder against his body and ran to his squad car.

  40

  Raven disconnected the call on her cell phone and smiled. She picked up the brush on the dresser and ran it through her hair. She set the brush down, walked over to the closet, and stepped inside. She slid a pair of Capri pants off a hanger and slipped them on. She reached up to a shelf and grabbed a tank top. She slipped it over her head and tugged it down around her waist.

  She was so glad to have found Gabriel a home. She couldn’t believe that Mrs. Rayburn wanted him. Ted said he’d deliver him to his new owner after she left for her flight back to New York, Saturday, right after the funeral.

  She walked across the room toward the door. Gabriel got up from the foot of the bed, hopped down, and followed her. They headed down the hallway and on down the stairs.


  She smelled fried chicken and something with cinnamon. She stopped at the foot of the stairs when she saw Ted in his easy chair in the den. Gabriel eased around her, went into the den, and flopped down on the soft rug in front of the fireplace.

  “Are you ready to eat?” Ted said as he stood up.

  “Yes. I smell fried chicken and something else.”

  “Maggie’s apple pie.” He followed her into the dining room.

  She glanced around the room. “Where’s my mother?”

  “Headache. I think she’s resting in her room.”

  Her room? She didn’t think it was a good idea to ask, and too, she knew it wasn’t any of her business if they shared a bedroom or not.

  He waited until she was seated at the table and then sat down too. Maggie entered with a platter of fried chicken. The mashed potatoes, green beans, and biscuits were already on the table.

  “Y’all enjoy. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll be in the kitchen.” She left the room.

  The doorbell rang.

  Ted glanced toward the kitchen and said, “I’ll get it, Maggie.” He stood up and looked at Raven. “Go ahead and serve yourself. It’s probably some solicitor. I shouldn’t be long.”

  Raven spooned some potatoes into her plate and some green beans. She forked a piece of chicken. She spread her napkin in her lap and then bowed her head. When she raised her head, she saw Ted standing across the table from her.

  “Raven, the sheriff wants to speak with you.”

  “What about?”

  He shook his head. “He didn’t say.”

  She scooted her chair back and stood. She dropped her napkin in her chair, left the room, and entered the den. He stood near the fireplace and petted the dog.

  “Ted said that you wanted to speak with me.” She stopped in the middle of the room and waited.

  He straightened. “I know you’re anxious to get back home, but I can’t let you leave yet?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Is this Cal talking or the sheriff talking? Because if it’s Cal, I’m gone.”

  “I’m afraid it’s the sheriff talking.”

  Her arms fell to her sides. “Why?”

  “Evidence.”

  “Evidence? What evidence?”

  “You found the duffle bag.”

  She thought a moment and then did a quick head shake. “So?”

  “So, you can’t leave.”

  “I brought that duffle bag to you. I don’t understand how you could possibly think that I had anything to do with it. I was in New York City when all of this took place.”

  “Sorry, Raven, but until I know for sure how you came about that duffle bag, you can’t leave.”

  “That’s about the lamest thing I’ve ever heard in all my life. I told you how I came about the duffle bag. I found it under the trailer.”

  He continued to look at her, but didn’t respond.

  She threw her hands up and began pacing the floor. “I’ve got to get back home. I’ve been gone too long as it is. I’ve got responsibilities. I’ve got deadlines to meet. I can’t stay here any longer.” She stopped pacing, fisted her hands on her hips, and jutted her chin out. “I’m leaving first thing right after the funeral. I won’t stay here, and you can’t make me.”

  “I’m afraid I can.”

  “Oh, no you can’t.” She craned her neck at him.

  He reached behind him and brought around the handcuffs.

  Her gaze dropped to what he held in his hand. She lowered her head and her eyes grew wide. Her head jerked up. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  * * *

  The door clanged shut behind Raven. She spun around, folded her arms across her chest, and bit her tongue to keep from cursing at him.

  He stood on the other side of the metal bars and watched her fume. “Your strawberry is flared up.”

  “Forget about my strawberry. My strawberry is none of your business.” She turned away from him, raised her cuffed wrists, and rubbed the red area on her forehead. She wished that she could erase it. She turned on her heel and hurried over to the bars. She stuck her hands through the opening. “Get these things off of me.”

  He reached inside his pocket and took out a set of keys. He touched her hands when he unlocked the cuffs. When he’d released her, she jerked her hands free from his. She rubbed her wrists.

  “You’re a brute. I wish I’d never dated you. If I’d have known how you really were, I wouldn’t have. I don’t know why I didn’t see it then. You were a lousy boyfriend.”

  “Oh, now, Raven, it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Maybe not for you, but it sure was for me.”

  “As I recall you were a very passionate lover.”

  Her eyes widened. She shivered.

  “Oops, there goes that danged strawberry again.” He frowned and shook his head. “And you didn’t bring your makeup case with you.”

  She stomped her foot. “I hate you, Calvin Rayburn!”

  He tipped his hat. “Goodnight, Raven!” He turned on his heel and twirled the handcuffs as he strolled away.

  “Cal?” she said. “Cal?” She hurried over to the jail cell door. “Cal?” She tried to peer around the bars down the corridor, but couldn’t see anything for the cinderblock walls that separated each cell room. She heard a door open and then shut. “Cal?” she yelled.

  41

  A flash of lightning followed by a loud clap of thunder rumbled until it faded off into the distance. Rain beat against the window outside the office of the Deluxe Inn. The light in the small lobby shone a path on the well worn green carpet through the doorway that led into the office. The office was dark except for the flickering television set.

  Gaylene sat in the office at her desk with her chair swiveled toward the television. She had the channel on a late night talk show. Canned laughter erupted. She chuckled. She reached for her Diet Coke on her desk, uncapped the bottle, and took a drink, and then set down the bottle. Her fingers fiddled with the bottle cap.

  The bell over the door to the small motel lobby dinged. Gaylene stood up, but kept her eye on the television screen. She heard the splatter of rain on the concrete outside before the door closed. She stretched her arms over her head and eyed the clock on the wall.

  “I swear, folks have been coming in at all hours of the night lately,” she mumbled. “This nightshift is killin’ me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

  She tossed the bottle cap into the wastebasket beside her desk.

  The light in the lobby went out.

  She turned. In an instant, her head snapped back. Sharp pain ricocheted through her skull. She stumbled backwards. Her arms thrashed about as she tried to grab the chair arm to keep from falling, but the chair tipped over, and she fell to the floor. She rolled over onto her side and held her head between her hands. She gasped in agony. A deep sharp pain pierced her side. She screamed, rolled onto her back, and used her feet to scoot her body toward her desk.

  “Help me … !” she breathed.

  Another sharp pain pierced her breast. She let go of her head, grabbed at her chest, and latched onto the sharp blade. The television flickered and lit up the room. For a brief moment, she focused in on angry, dark eyes.

  Thunder rumbled.

  “Please … I swear … I didn’t tell anyone … I saw you,” Gaylene whispered her last words.

  The blade sliced through the skin on the palms of her hands before she released her grip.

  Canned laughter came from the television again.

  42

  “I didn’t know we had panthers in this part of the country,” Justin said when Cal came through the front door the following morning. He carried the paperback in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other.

  Cal eyed him a moment before he shut the door behind him. Justin had a damp paper towel in his hand and wiped at what looked like egg yolk from the front of his shirt.

  “What are you talking about?” Cal asked.

  Justin motio
ned his head and cut his eyes toward the back of the building.

  Cal grinned. He walked toward the hallway. “You gotta to feed ‘em, or they’ll eat you alive.”

  “She threw her breakfast tray at me.”

  “Gotta be quick, Justin.”

  “I ducked.” He looked down at his shirt. “Just not quick enough,” he mumbled.

  “How’s Christine?” Cal asked.

  Justin looked up, a grin spread across his face. “She’s doing real well. She’d had some morning sickness, but that was weeks ago.” He tossed the paper towel in the wastebasket near his desk. “Oh,” he beamed, “the baby’s been kicking up a storm. Doc said it’s a boy. I think that’s the way it should be. The first child being a boy. You know, the older brother to the sister sort of thing?”

  Cal laughed. “So y’all aren’t through having kids.”

  “Oh no! Not by a long shot. It’s too much fun trying.”

  Cal shook his head, went into his office, and tossed the paperback and his hat down on his desk. He walked around his desk, stood in front of the window, and looked out at the sun peeking over the eastern horizon. He took a sip of his coffee. The phone rang. He glanced over at his desk phone and saw the lit button go out. He turned back and took another sip.

  Fast approaching footsteps came from down the hallway. By the time he’d turned around, Justin was at his door.

  “Sheriff, we got a call from a man over at the Deluxe Inn. He said there’s a dead body in the motel office.”

  Cal set his coffee down on his desk, grabbed his hat, and followed Justin out of the building.

  Cal and Justin arrived a few minutes later along with Hendrix, Miller, and Porter.

  A husky middle-aged man hurried over as they exited their squad cars. “I was the one who called. I was trying to get checked in,” he said and breathed heavily. “I couldn’t get anyone’s attention. There’s a bell over the door, but nobody showed up. So I kept hitting the service bell over and over. Still nothing. I looked around, and when I peeked back into the office, that’s when I saw her. There’s blood everywhere. I didn’t touch anything though.”