‘So then she goes up to the old man and tells him he’d have a happier family if he just hired a maid for this big old house of his and let his wives tend to their children, and he did it! And last I heard the three of them, the old man and his two wives, are doing just fine!’
‘But around here, Sister Carol Anne? Since y’all moved to Oklahoma?’
‘Did she try fixing things?’ she asked.
I nodded.
Carol Anne looked at her husband and stood up. By the time I looked at Jerry, there was nothing going on, but I could swear a message was sent between the two of them that I wasn’t privy to.
‘Dinner’s almost ready, Sheriff. Won’t you join us?’ she asked as she headed for the kitchen.
There were many reasons why I answered that question the way I did. One, I wanted to see how the two of them would react; two, I wanted to see if I could get more information out of them; three, whatever she was cooking smelled damned good, and four, I was hungry.
So I said, ‘Sure, ma’am, I’d love to.’
Whatever you want to say about the lifestyle, there was absolutely nothing wrong with Sister Carol Anne’s cooking. Like her home decoration, it was colorful and happy and, probably unlike her home decoration, delicious. I’m not a man who’s big on casseroles, but this one had lots of cheese, green chilies, big hunks of beef, onions, all sorts of good tasting stuff, and then there was a big salad to go with it. She’d made three casseroles to fill up her crowd, but there was plenty left for me to have seconds. She seemed pleased when I accepted her offer of another helping.
There wasn’t much to learn at dinner, as the large dining-room table, now extended to fill up even more room, and with extra chairs from Carol Anne’s old house, consisted of three adults and fifteen children. There was so much talking going on that I couldn’t keep up, much less start a conversation of my own.
Afterwards, as the children cleared the table, we adults took to the living room, away from the kitchen, so we could talk.
‘Sister Carol Anne—’
‘Sheriff, please drop the “sister,”’ she said. ‘Carol Anne is fine.’
‘I’m Milt,’ I said. ‘OK, anyway, before dinner, we were talking about how Mary liked to fix things. Did she keep up this practice when y’all moved here?’ I’d asked the question before, but this time I watched Jerry Hudson to see what he did.
Carol Anne didn’t answer. Jerry sat mute. Finally Carol Anne said to her husband, ‘I’m not going to lie.’
Jerry sighed and sat forward in his chair, elbows on knees, hands clasped together, head bowed. His lips were moving and his eyes were closed and I coulda sworn he was praying. Probably was.
Before he could say anything though, Lynnie came running in from the kitchen, screaming. ‘Daddy! Come quick! Mama Carol Anne! Hurry!’
We all jumped up and ran into the kitchen. The big yellow dog was sitting on its haunches by the dog door, her tail wagging fit to beat the band, and in her mouth was a large metal meat tenderizer, some blood, blonde hair, and dirt still clinging to it.
ELEVEN
Milt Kovak – Saturday
There were fifteen kids and three adults all standing around staring at the dog. Finally I got a grip, and said, ‘Carol Anne, would you please hand me one of them rubber gloves and a paper bag if you got it.’
‘Uh huh,’ she said then moved slowly to the sink, grabbed a blue rubber glove and handed it to me. Slowly, I guess so as not to spook the dog, she made her way to the pantry, her eyes still on Butch, opened the door quietly and reached in for a brown paper bag. Coming back slowly she handed it to me.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Would you open the bag?’ I asked, handing it back to her.
She did so as I gingerly went up to Butch, rubbed her head, said, ‘Good girl,’ a couple of times, then, with the rubber glove in my hand, gingerly took hold of the meat tenderizer. Butch growled and I let go, turned, and looked at Jerry.
He was so pale I thought he might pass out. Carol Anne must have looked at him, too, because she said, ‘Jerry, sit down. Lynnie, help him.’
Lynnie grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and helped her dad sit down.
‘Hey, girl,’ Carol Anne said to the dog in a pleasant voice. ‘Whatcha got, girl?’ Carol Anne held her hand out and Butch dropped the tenderizer on the floor.
Carol Anne went for it, but I grabbed her hand. ‘Prints,’ I said, as I picked up the hitting end with the glove. Carol Anne held out the bag and I set it inside, took the bag from her, and rolled it closed.
‘First, keep the dog in, and don’t let any of the kids go out back until after I can get a crime tech out here to see if maybe we can find out where this came from,’ I said, holding up the bag. I sighed real big. ‘OK, y’all, I gotta get this out to my car and get it in an evidence bag, seal it and all that sh— stuff, so thank you for a wonderful meal and—’ I looked at Jerry, his head in his hands, elbows on knees, what I could see of his face still awfully pale. ‘Jerry – man, I’m sorry,’ I said.
I nodded at Carol Anne who nodded back, but quickly returned her concentration to her husband.
I headed outside to my car, hardly noticing Dennis Rigsby, Carol Anne’s brother, sneaking out of Sister Rene’s house.
Milt Kovak – Sunday
It was real late when I got home. After I’d left the Hudsons’ house, I’d gone straight to the station, which was dark and quiet, and locked up the evidence in the safe in my office.
The next morning I sent Jean and Johnny Mac on to church and gave a call out to Charlie Smith. We don’t have any forensic people on staff at the sheriff’s department, but Charlie had found this kid, straight out of high school, who was a forensic wunderkind. He was going to college full-time at OU up the road in Norman – twice a week actually on the campus, the rest of the time on the computer – and working full-time, more or less, for Charlie. Charlie told me he’d let the kid work upside down like a bat if that’s what he wanted to do.
Charlie and the kid, Dell Sherman-Baxter (until lately, the only kid I knew of in Prophesy County with two mamas – different situation though) met me at the police station around eight a.m. I’d gone by the sheriff’s department first to pick up the evidence, and had it with me. This was my first time to meet Dell Sherman-Baxter, and of course I had my own idea of what he’d look like: skinny, wimpy, thick glasses, crooked teeth, zits, and bad breath. Won’t be the last time I’m totally wrong.
Dell Sherman-Baxter was about six foot one inch, maybe 180 pounds, wide shoulders, slim hips, blonde hair, blue eyes, clear skin and a smile that would make a lot of women wet their panties. He shook my hand like a grown-up and said, ‘Sheriff, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Dell, likewise. I hear you know a little something about forensics.’
The boy blushed. ‘Yes, sir. It’s like my passion.’
I held up the bag. ‘What I have here, I do believe, is a murder weapon. We had a woman out in the county bludgeoned to death—’
‘Mrs Hudson, the polygamy family,’ he said.
‘That’s the one. One of my deputies found a meat tenderizer missing from Mrs Hudson’s kitchen. The ME agreed that the wound could have been inflicted by such an instrument. The dog showed up with this last night.’
I pulled the meat tenderizer out of the bag with a gloved hand. The boy leaned closer to get a look, not touching it. ‘Dirt,’ he said.
‘Yeah, that’s what I’d say.’
‘Was the kitchen dirty?’ he asked.
‘No way,’ I said.
‘The dog came in from outside with this?’ he asked.
‘Through the doggy door.’
‘Do you know where he came from?’
‘No idea,’ I said.
‘Set it down please, Sheriff.’
I did as he asked and then stood back. The boy donned gloves, looked around at us and said, ‘Y’all can leave now.’
We did.
Sitting in Charlie’s office, I as
ked, ‘How long you think it’s gonna take him?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘An hour. Three days. It varies.’
I got out my cell phone and called Nita Skitteridge and told her about finding the tenderizer.
‘No kidding!’ she said. ‘I’m surprised. The dog had it, huh?’
‘That’s about the gist of it. Wonder if you’d go out there this morning and see if you can find where she dug it up from.’
‘Ah, I was just getting ready to go to church,’ she said.
‘Better change your clothes,’ I told her. ‘You wouldn’t wanna get your Sunday best all messed up.’
I hung up before she could respond. I’d heard the woman’s responses before and didn’t wanna hear ’em again now. Especially not aimed at me.
So I sat there in Charlie’s office, my chair tipped back on two legs, my feet resting on the front of his desk, thinking. I had more business over at the Hudsons myself. One, Carol Anne was going to say something last night, right before Lynnie came running in. Had something to do with Sister Mary butting into other people’s business, I was sure of that. And then there was that thing I really didn’t think about that I saw as I was leaving: Dennis Rigsby sneaking out – OK, maybe just coming out of – Sister Rene’s house. It was only about eight thirty in the evening, but still, a good Mormon wife wouldn’t be having male visitors over without her husband present, even in the bright of day. OK, so maybe Dennis was like family, being Carol Anne’s brother and all, but still.
And here it was Sunday. Would they all be in church? At the hospital with Rachael and her daughter? I set my chair upright and with my hands on my knees, pushed myself up out of the chair. ‘I got things to do,’ I told Charlie.
‘Like I don’t?’ he said.
I shrugged. ‘You gotta babysit this kid?’
He grimaced. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I promised his mama.’
‘I gotta murderer to catch,’ I told him and headed out the door.
I wasn’t pleased to hear Charlie snort as I left.
Nita Skitteridge – Sunday
Barry, my husband, was straightening his tie in front of the dresser mirror as I hung up my cell phone.
‘Shit,’ I said.
‘Such language and us on our way to church,’ he teased.
‘You may be on your way to church, but I’m not,’ I told him.
‘Was that the sheriff on the phone?’
‘Yeah. He wants me to go check out a scene,’ I said.
He came up behind me and put his arms around me. ‘Want me to record the sermon?’ he asked.
I laughed. ‘So I can go to sleep in the living room while I listen?’
He kissed my ear. ‘Told you when you went to the academy instead of that dental hygienist school that the hours were gonna suck.’
I elbowed him somewhat gently in the mid-section. ‘If you want me to tell you that you were right, it ain’t gonna happen,’ I said, pulling away.
I went in our walk-in closet to put up my Sunday clothes and change into my uniform. Barry yelled goodbye from the front door. Ten minutes after he left, I was in my car headed for the station and a squad car. Five minutes after that, I was in the squad car and headed towards The Branches.
Barry and I had a nice house in Longbranch, half an acre, three bedrooms, two baths, two-car garage. Nice covered patio with a good size gas barbecue pit. The furniture was fairly new and almost paid for, and the walls were painted in designer colors. Of the two extra bedrooms, one was set up as an office, and the other was a junk room, until such time as it became the nursery. Wasn’t sure when that was gonna happen. All this is to say that I was happy with my lot in life, but damn if The Branches didn’t set my millionaire fantasies off.
The landscaping alone turned me green with envy. And I could barely look at the houses without breaking the commandment on coveting. There was that one all glass and cement, three stories with walkways between buildings that didn’t get me all atwitter, but other than that, I’d take any one of ’em God chose to give me, if He so chose.
I got to the Hudsons’ cul-de-sac without committing too many sins and parked the car. The big van was just leaving with Dennis driving. His weirdo mama and Rene Hudson and a bunch of the kids were in it.
I wasn’t sure exactly what the sheriff wanted me to do – find out where the murder weapon came from, he’d said – or how I was supposed to go about doing it. So I just got out of the squad car and headed into the backyards, starting in the middle with the former home of the victim, Sister Mary Hudson. None of the backyards were fenced and just seemed to go easily from one to the other. Directly behind the center house was an above-ground pool, covered over now that it was getting on toward winter, and a large wooden playscape with slides and tunnels and swings and monkey bars. Going towards Carol Anne Hudson’s house was another playscape set up for smaller children, and a covered sandbox further on. Beyond that was what looked like a mini-racetrack set up for bicycles, with ramps.
The whole backyard area was a children’s paradise. Right outside the back door of Carol Anne’s house was the dog house. Butch was asleep, her big body inside the house, her head sticking out. When she heard me coming she looked up, and I swear to God she smiled. I could hear her tail thumping the sides of the dog house in her happiness to see me.
That’s when I heard a car pull into the cul-de-sac.
Milt Kovak – Sunday
When I pulled into the cul-de-sac, the large van that was usually in front of Sister Mary’s house was gone, as was the smaller one that was usually in front of Sister Carol Anne’s former house. I did notice, however, that Nita Skitteridge’s car was smack dab in the center of the cul-de-sac, like it had been abandoned. I pulled up neatly next to Sister Mary’s driveway (I guess I should start calling it Sister Carol Anne’s driveway, but then what would I call her other driveway?), and got out, calling Nita’s name.
I saw her come out from behind Sister Carol Anne’s former house. She didn’t look happy. ‘You looking for me?’ she said.
‘Hey,’ I said, trying out a smile. I didn’t get one in response. ‘How’s it going?’
‘You don’t trust me to do my job, Sheriff?’ she asked, hands on hips.
‘Now nobody said anything like that, Deputy,’ I said, letting the smile slip. ‘I came out to interview the Hudsons. Anybody left around that you know about?’
She nodded her head toward the middle house, the two-story that had once been Sister Mary’s. ‘I believe Mr Hudson and Carol Anne are still here. All the kids left for church with Mrs Rigsby and Dennis and the other Mrs Hudson.’
There’d been a bit of emphasis on the word ‘church,’ but I let it slide. ‘I’ll just go on up then,’ I said and turned away from her. The woman scared me a little, and I’m a big enough man to admit it.
I rang the bell and hardly had my hand off it before it opened. Jerry stood there. ‘Sheriff,’ he said.
Hell, nobody seemed glad to see me this morning. ‘Hey, Jerry. Sorry, but I got a few more questions.’
He opened the door wide and ushered me in. We went to the family room where Carol Anne was sitting with baby Mark in her arms, feeding him a bottle. The baby’s eyes were half-closed, and she was rocking him gently.
Jerry put his finger to his lips with a ‘shhhing’ sound, and we both tiptoed in. The three of us sat there for a few minutes, watching as Mark’s eyes finally closed all the way. Carol Anne took the bottle out of his mouth, but kept rocking her body back and forth for another couple of minutes, then stood and took the sleeping baby to the far corner of the room where a playpen sat, leaned down and nestled the baby in.
‘I’m sorry I have to keep bothering y’all,’ I said when Carol Anne came back. ‘But I got questions only the two of you can answer.’
‘We noticed your deputy wandering around the backyards, Milt,’ Jerry said. ‘Could you tell us what that’s about?’
‘That’s why I wanted y’all to keep the dog in last night. She’s looking
to find a spot where the dog might have found the murder weapon.’
Jerry flinched when I said the words ‘murder weapon’ and I was sorry I’d said it but what could I do? You gotta call a spade a spade, especially when it is – am I right?
I continued. ‘Last night, before the dog interrupted us, y’all were going to tell me how Sister Mary might have butted into somebody else’s business once you got here to Oklahoma.’
The couple looked at each other then back at me and neither of ’em said a word. I sighed real big. ‘Come on, y’all,’ I said. ‘Carol Anne, you said you weren’t gonna lie to me. So I’m asking a question: what did she butt into?’
Carol Anne took a deep breath and said, ‘Lots of things.’
‘Jerry? Come on, man,’ I said.
Squaring his shoulders, Jerry said, ‘Mary never butted into anything. She had concerns for other people, that’s all. She felt a Christian’s job was to help her fellows. She never did anything that I didn’t agree with wholeheartedly.’
‘And what are the things she did that you agreed with wholeheartedly?’ I asked.
He shook his head. I looked at Carol Anne. She looked away.
I tried another tactic. ‘Last night, as I was leaving here, I saw your brother, Carol Anne, coming out of Sister Rene’s house. What’s up with that?’
The two of them looked at each other as I watched closely. Sister Carol Anne flapped her arms as she stared at her husband, while Jerry shook his head. Carol Anne stood up. Jerry stood up. I kept watching. Carol Anne sat back down. Still standing, Jerry shook his head again. Carol Anne folded her arms over her chest and looked away from her husband. Jerry sat back down. These two were having a doozy of an argument and I hadn’t heard a peep out of either of ’em.
‘So what’s the conclusion?’ I asked.
‘What?’ Jerry asked, finally looking at me.
‘What have y’all finally decided to tell me? I hope some of it’s true.’
‘I’m not telling you any—’ Jerry started.
‘I am!’ Carol Anne said with what seemed to be just a little bit of heat.
‘Carol Anne . . .’ Jerry started.
Husband and Wives Page 20
