by Dixie Cash
No one could have imagined all that had unfolded, and even now, Debbie Sue had to question if she was in the middle of a terrible, grotesque dream.
“The Eyes of Texas” bleating from her cell phone startled her and she grabbed her purse, which was hanging from the back of a kitchen chair. She dug out the phone and without looking at caller ID, answered.
“I’m on my way to your house,” Edwina informed her without saying hello. “I stopped and bought a newspaper. Do I need to bring anything else?”
Debbie Sue ran her finger along the side of the cake plate, capturing a crumb and bringing it to her mouth. “I guess not, Ed.”
“Do you still have coffee? I don’t mean enough for a cup or two either. I’m talking about a lot of coffee. I haven’t slept all night.”
“Yeah, I’ve got more than half a can. I haven’t slept either.”
“What about food? You got anything to eat?”
“Umm,” Debbie Sue said, looking around the kitchen. “I still have some coffee cake left over from yesterday, but I wouldn’t object if you picked up something greasy. You know, sausage biscuits, bacon biscuits, plain biscuits with gravy. Brain food.”
“Greasy. Got it. But why do we need brain food?”
“We’re going to be doing a lot of thinking.”
“We are?”
“I hope to shout we are. We’ve got a murder to solve. Get here as soon as you can.”
“Now Deb—”
Debbie Sue closed her phone. She didn’t want to hear about practicalities. She’d been through all of that already on the phone with Buddy. The word “forbidden” was still stuck in her brain.
She sighed as she filled the coffeemaker with water. Buddy’s penchant for forbidding her to do a thing had been a bone of contention throughout both their former marriage and their present one. That very thing had gone as far as divorce court years back.
She had vowed never to allow her stubbornness to get so out of hand again, but dammit, this was different. The woman in trouble was someone she had spent two days with and she didn’t believe for a minute she was guilty of murder. Buddy had demanded that the Domestic Equalizers not interfere with the Midland police. Demanded. They were plenty capable of catching a killer, he had assured her.
Okay, she accepted the part about the capabilities of the Midland Police Department. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t watch very closely from the fringes and make sure Darla Denman’s big day wasn’t an appearance on death row.
A glance at the wall clock told her she had just enough time to jump into the shower before Edwina arrived. She quickly added coffee to the coffeemaker basket, clicked the ON button and dashed from the kitchen, pulling her Dallas Cowboys T-shirt over her head as she went.
Twenty minutes later she emerged from the bathroom towel-drying her hair. The hot water had loosened the tight muscles in her neck and across her shoulders. The lavender body wash had rejuvenated her senses. She was ready to get to work.
Walking into the kitchen, she came upon Edwina filling a mug with coffee. “I feel one hundred percent better after that shower,” she said brightly.
“Hmm, I had a shower, too, but only got to seventy-five percent,” Edwina said.
“Did you use lavender body scrub? That’s the extra twenty-five.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now what is it we’re gonna work on?”
She watched Edwina dump a teaspoon of sugar into her mug. “You’re not still doing that sugar thing, are you?”
“Nah,” Edwina said. “I decided that didn’t make sense. And Vic told me it could damage my kidneys.”
“And no telling what else,” Debbie Sue said.
A brown-paper grocery sack sat on the table. Debbie Sue dug in it and came up with a sausage biscuit.
“You must have stopped by Kwik Stop. There’s only two biscuits in here. Did you already eat?”
“Had a double-sausage biscuit with a fried egg and cheese on the way out here.”
“Then you can grab that yellow legal pad by the phone while I fix myself a cup of coffee.”
Edwina complied, picking up the pad and going back for a pen before she sat down. “I assume we’re going to be writing something.”
Indeed they were. Debbie Sue intended to copy how Buddy analyzed crimes, the method he said helped him bring everything into focus on complex cases. Debbie Sue intended to dictate her thoughts for Edwina to write down—not to force her involvement, but to allow Debbie Sue the chance to eat.
“Okay, what am I supposed to do with this?” Edwina asked.
“Draw a line down the middle of the page,” Debbie Sue instructed, unwrapping her sausage biscuit.
Edwina followed the directive, adding a curlicue at the end of the line. “Now what?”
“Okay, let me think.” Debbie Sue sipped her coffee. “At the top of the first column, write ‘People Who Wanted Roxie Dead’ and at the top of the second column, write ‘Where Were They?’ ”
“Okay, but I’m going to need a longer piece of paper.” Edwina began to write, but suddenly stopped. “This won’t work.”
“Come on, Ed. I’ve seen Buddy use this method and—”
“It’s not the method I’m questioning. I think this list could get pretty long.”
“That’s pretty smart of you, Ed. See? This greasy food is working already.”
“Well, I did have that biscuit with double sausage.” Edwina tapped the top of her pencil on the yellow pad. “Do we really know how Roxie died? Has anybody said?”
“We already talked about it, Ed. That nail file punctured her jugular and she bled out. That’s why there was so much blood all over everything.”
“Eeww,” Edwina said, curling her upper lip. “I just ate.”
“You asked the question.”
“I know you must have talked to Buddy. What did he say?”
“I talked to Wyatt Earp last night. He told me not to interfere with the Midland police. He knows Captain Fuller and Detective Finley both and he said if we get in their way, the outcome will be a lot different from what it was when we dealt with the sheriff in Jones County. He said those guys wouldn’t stop with just calling us clowns like that Jones County asshole did.”
“Food for thought, girlfriend. With Vic five hundred miles away, I don’t know who’d bail me out of jail.”
“Buddy doesn’t understand.” Debbie heaved a sigh. “But I told him we’d stay out of the Midland Police Department’s way.”
“That’s probably a wise plan, Debbie Sue. Have you heard from Bob?”
“He called last night, too. He said Mike and Eddie are all torn up. He said he’d found the phone numbers he needed and called Roxie’s folks.”
“That’s good. How is Valetta Rose taking things?”
“He didn’t mention her.” Debbie Sue shook her head. “God, Ed. He just sounded so damned sad.”
“Did he say if he’s taking Roxie back to Nashville?”
“No and I didn’t feel I should ask. Hell, I don’t even know if Nashville is where she’s from. The whole thing’s just sad, isn’t it? I mean she might have been an ass, but she had a whole lot going for her.”
“Yep. Beauty and talent is a helluva lot more than most of us get to start out with.” Edwina shook her head. “But apparently, she just couldn’t rein in that hateful tongue. I only knew her a couple of days, but she pissed me off enough for a lifetime.”
“Hmm, I think you’re onto something, Ed. She pissed everyone off, but who did she piss off bad enough for them to actually kill her? I mean, you don’t kill someone for being a smartass, do you?”
“I don’t. And if everyone did, we’d all be stepping over bodies. It takes a whole other kind of riled to kill another human being. Maybe there’s another motive we don’t know about yet.”
“Maybe. Unfortunately, we don’t really know any of these people.” Debbie Sue sank to a chair at the table. “Okay, how many names on the list?”
Edwina counted down the
page. “Nine.”
“Holy cow. I thought you’d say three or four.”
“Well, I included you, me and Tatts by Matt.”
“You can mark you and me off. I’d say that’s a safe bet.”
“Now who’s being a smartass?”
“Why did you add Matt? I never saw him and Roxie together but for a minute. And he’s local.”
“Remember? She spent yesterday afternoon at Tatts by Matt’s tattoo parlor. That dude’s a little odd. There’s no telling what happened there.”
“You’re right, so that’s seven. And that’s about six more suspects than we’ve dealt with before.”
“Not necessarily. When Pearl Ann was killed we had the whole state of Texas to consider.”
Debbie Sue took a sip of her coffee and pulled her robe tighter to her body. “You’re right. Good Lord. Wouldn’t Pearl Ann and Roxie together have made a handful of trouble?”
“Clearly, neither one of those women ate enough fat,” Edwina said.
Debbie Sue leaned forward and patted Edwina’s hand. “I’m going to dry my hair and get dressed. We’re going to Midland, Ed.”
“We are?”
“Yep. Buddy will be home tonight and he might handcuff me to a chair. Before that happens, we need to see what we can find out.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
“Why, Ed, by doing what we do best. Talking, listening and spreading some bullshit around.”
Bob Denman sat at the kitchen table in the home he was borrowing in Salt Lick, Texas. He felt low. Just about as low as he had ever felt in his entire life. Making funeral plans for his wife while the woman he loved sat in jail for her murder was, hands down, the worst thing he had ever faced.
Roxie, just a year earlier, following the funeral of a friend, had said, “If something should happen to me and you’re still around, just roast me. I don’t want to be planted like some damn tulip bulb.” In terms of money, that was really the first break she had ever given him and she wasn’t even aware of it.
Despite the early hour, he had already reached Roxie’s mother in Los Angeles. The woman, Bob observed, had not been overcome with grief. She and her daughter hadn’t spoken to each other in more than five years. She told him to forget about locating Roxie’s father. After losing his last dime at the tables in Las Vegas, he had disappeared. The man couldn’t be found and Bob shouldn’t even worry about it.
She had no argument over cremation, had no interest in helping plan a memorial service in Nashville. All she asked was that Bob ship her daughter’s ashes to her in L.A. Normally he wouldn’t think of not delivering the urn personally, but he had a mission involving the living that took precedence in his mind. As soon as he did his duty to Roxie in Nashville, he would have to get back to Texas and see to Darla’s well-being.
Simply shipping the urn to Roxie’s mother and forgetting about a funeral made the most sense, but the few friends and acquaintances Roxie had were in Nashville. She had considered Nashville her home. His and Roxie’s marriage might have been a joke to everyone who knew them, and she might have treated him like something she would scrape off her shoe, but he couldn’t deny her a decent exit—visitation, words from the Bible, music. In Nashville.
Thus, he had made a list of what was needed for a small, simple memorial service. He had dealt with each item in his usual, methodical fashion, taking care of every last detail, leaving nothing forgotten or overlooked. Decorum and decency dictated as much.
He’d had a long morning.
All plans in place, Bob did a mental countdown for the week ahead. Darla’s arraignment wouldn’t occur until tomorrow, Tuesday. For sure, he would be present. An autopsy would take place tomorrow morning, then Roxie’s body would be released. A Midland funeral home would carry out the cremation, and then on Wednesday, Bob would travel to Nashville with his wife’s ashes.
He had set the visitation for Wednesday afternoon at a funeral home in Nashville, followed by a simple service in the chapel. He didn’t know who might be present. He assumed Mike, Eddie and Valetta Rose would be there simply as a result of their association with Roxie, but it was anyone’s guess who else would show up.
Today he had to pay a visit to Darla.
Chapter Twenty
Debbie Sue drove toward Midland without talking, which was just as well. Edwina’s mouth was moving at ninety miles an hour, yakking and cracking her gum between sentences. “Why are you avoiding my questions?” she finally asked.
Debbie Sue’s mind was busy. She was trying to decide where to start once they got to Midland. She shifted her position as she adjusted the vent to blow cool air directly on her. “I’m sorry, Ed. I was thinking about something. What did you ask me?”
“I asked about Buddy. You haven’t told me what he had to say about all of this, except that he warned us to stay out of it. He must know something that nobody else knows.”
“He doesn’t. All he had to say was the usual Buddy stuff. Be careful, don’t get involved, yada, yada. I told him we were only going to observe the Midland PD so we could learn a few things about police work. I said we’d only jump in if needed.”
“And what did he say about that?”
“He said he couldn’t see why we would be needed. He said for us to let the professionals do their jobs.”
“The professionals, huh? Not silly ol’ us.”
Since more often than not, Edwina started out agreeing with Buddy, her tone of annoyance sent Debbie Sue’s thoughts off in a new direction. Why couldn’t Buddy have said, Darla’s going to need your help. Let me know if I can do anything. Or why couldn’t he have said, Good thing you two are there to make sure things run smoothly. Would that have been so hard? Sometimes men could be so damned maddening.
No matter if Buddy did throw cold water on her plans, Debbie Sue knew that in the end, she could always count on her good friend Edwina for support. “Ed, do you ever get really mad, I mean really mad at Vic?”
“Of course I do, hon. I’m living proof that men and women weren’t meant to coexist. I mean, think about it. God knew Adam and Eve couldn’t live in close quarters, so He gave them the whole damn Garden of Eden. No borders, no boundaries, separate bathrooms. He knew they’d need lots of space.”
“I never thought of it that way,” Debbie Sue replied. “Sunday School skimmed over that part.”
She saw in her peripheral vision that Edwina was studying her closely. Finally, her partner, who knew her almost as well as she knew herself, said, “Are you mad at our sweet Buddy?”
“Not really mad,” Debbie Sue answered. “Just a little irritated.”
“Hm. We all get a little irritated. Just don’t let it take you down a road that makes no sense.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already been down that road and I don’t want to travel it again.”
The William Anders Justice Center and Law Enforcement Building’s parking area loomed ahead. As Debbie Sue turned into it, she saw it was nearly empty of cars. “Where is everyone? This place should be humming with activity. I don’t see a soul.”
Edwina scanned the empty lot. “Shit-fire, Debbie Sue, it’s a holiday. I totally forgot about Labor Day.”
“Oh, hell,” Debbie Sue said, smacking the steering wheel. “There won’t be an arraignment today.”
“Shit,” Edwina said, then sighed. “Well, we’ve driven all the way over here. Let’s go into the jail and see if they’ll let us talk to Darla. I’m sure she’d welcome the company.”
“Good idea.” Debbie Sue parked, killed the engine and checked her image in the rearview mirror. “Now remember, if we should happen to strike up a conversation with someone inside about the case, keep it casual. No nosy questions. That way, I can tell Buddy we were just being friendly.”
“Gotcha,” Edwina said. “He won’t see through that at all.”
They walked across the parking lot and entered the building that housed city and county official offices as well as the jail. Just inside th
e front door, Debbie Sue laid her purse on the conveyor belt that scanned for prohibited items and walked through the metal detector without incident. Edwina’s purse, on the other hand, set off the alarm and the two cops who were monitoring the system asked her to step aside.
Debbie Sue watched with mortification as Edwina explained that the gun-shaped object they found inside her purse was a personal massage device. She could see that the two deadly serious cops doing the inspection were having a hard time keeping straight faces.
Once they cut Edwina loose with her personal item still inside her purse, Debbie Sue dragged her up the hallway. “Jeez Louise, Ed. What in the hell are you doing with that thing in your purse?”
“It’s a gag gift Vic brought me from California. But, turns out it feels really good along my shoulders.”
“May I help you girls?” A deep baritone voice interrupted them and they both turned toward it.
Detective Finley stood two feet away. He gave them a look that clearly relayed the message that he brooked no tomfoolery. The man looked just as delicious as he had yesterday at the civic center when he had shown up to investigate Roxie’s demise. He wore basically the same outfit—starched cotton covering hard muscle. Yum.
“What are you girls doing here?” he asked.
Before Debbie Sue could answer, Edwina pushed her aside. “Hi, I’m Edwina Perkins-Martin. Remember me? We spoke yesterday.” Still hanging onto his hand, she stared up at him. “Gracious goodness, you’re tall, aren’t you? I don’t think I noticed that yesterday.”
“Ed, shh!” Debbie Sue gently pushed her a step to the side.
Extending her own hand to the detective, Debbie Sue said in an even tone she hoped conveyed professionalism, “I don’t think I mentioned it in our conversation yesterday, but we’re the Domestic Equalizers, private investigators from Salt Lick. We came to visit Darla Denman. I might add that we feel she’s been wrongly incarcerated. Perhaps you can tell us where we can find her.”
