Southern Fried

by Tonya Kappes

  The smell of fried bologna crept up from under the door of Cowboy’s Catfish and sent my insides to growling. That was one problem with having the office attached to the greasy spoon. Since Cottonwood was so small, there was never a need to have a big jail or even a big office, so the town council had rented the back space from Bartleby Fry, the owner of the building and of Cowboy’s. The one-cell, three-desk space had been enough up until recently. I’d been finding the space had become a little too tight.

  “It must be bologna day.” I inhaled and let out a big exhale. “Duke will have his nose stuck under the door all day. He’s a sucker for bologna and so am I. Too bad I’m going to the Sweet Adeline luncheon.”

  “Yeah, ever since Jolee dropped him by, he’s been wandering over there a time or two,” Betty pointed out. “Doolittle Bowman called to remind you of the council meeting tomorrow night.” She lifted a paper in the air. “Here’s your warrant.”

  “Thanks, Betty.” I walked over and took it out of her hand. The judge had given me the full warrant.

  “I’m going to the town meeting.” Finn stood by the fax machine, checking out the pages that had come from the lab. “Are you going to propose the new office space?”

  “Eh?” The corner of Betty’s lips snarled. “What did you say?”

  “We will be at the meeting,” I said a little louder, a smile on my face as I sat at my desk and typed my notes from my visit with Myrna this morning on my computer. Everything had to be documented, even the smashed rose.

  “Who what?” Betty’s false teeth clacked. She stuck her finger in her ear to adjust her hearing aids. “Darn things’re already going bad and I paid a lot for them.”

  Finn walked over to Betty’s desk and looked down at the earpieces he’d wrongly thought would be a good idea to replace my old Velcro walkie-talkie and picked them up.

  “This is why your ears aren’t working.” He held up Betty’s hearing aids. “You’ve got the wrong earpiece in.”

  Shock and awe swept across Betty’s face. All of us snorted out in laughter.

  “I told you those earpieces weren’t going to work.” Gently I rubbed my walkie-talkie that was velcroed on my shoulder. “This works just fine and we have another one in the closet over there for you.”

  He simply shook his head.

  “Any messages from Max?” I asked Betty after she’d gotten herself situated.

  “He said Stanley came by and identified the body early this morning.” Betty held the piece of paper up to her eyes and continued to read. “They are going to have him cremated. Services will be held as soon as the body is cleared and there will only be a memorial. No funeral. No preacher. No repast.”

  “Well, that is going to ding-dong the auxiliary women.” It was a bit of news I could take to them. “Myrna was already filling flower orders.”

  “Speaking of repast.” Finn walked over to the closet and pulled out the tangled-up walkie-talkie that used to be Lonnie’s. “Don’t forget that you said you’d stop by Inez’s with that pie. Did you find out anything about Cole’s?”

  “I didn’t, but I’ll get on that too.” I stood up to go into Cowboy’s. All the men in the community would probably be gathering for lunch about now, and if there was something going on at Cole’s, they’d know. If not, Finn could still go on over to the Tractor Supply and poke around. “I’m heading across the street to Kim’s Buffet, but I’ll walk through Cowboy’s. I’ll see if Bartleby knows anything about Cole’s and give you a shout.” I turned one last time to Finn. “Do me a favor when you head over to Tractor Supply and ask around about the electric barbwire and if anyone has purchased any. After that, can you run out to Owen’s trailer and look for any cookbooks you see?” Then I glanced back at Betty. “Get Finn a copy of the warrant so he can have one with him, and see what you can find out about Sandy Godbey and where I might find her.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff.” Betty quickly turned and picked up the phone. “And Sheriff…” Betty stopped me. She put the receiver of the phone under her chin. “Rowdy called and said that some flowers had been stolen from graves and he wanted to make a report. He said it wasn’t urgent and he wasn’t going to be there the rest of the day, so stop by tomorrow if you can.”

  “Okay. I’ll catch up with him.” I pushed the door open between the kitchen of Cowboy’s Catfish and the office.

  “Mornin’, Sheriff.” Bartleby held up a greasy spatula when I walked past. “I sure hated to hear about Owen. I guess Myrna did more than fire him.”

  “Don’t be going and pointing fingers. We don’t know exactly how Owen died.” I eyed the sizzling bologna in the cast-iron skillet. My mouth salivated. “Why do you think Myrna did it?”

  “The legend of the cookbook.” He wiggled his brows. “Everyone in the county wants a look at the infamous book.”

  That was about the fourth person who said something about Rae Lynn’s cookbook. What was so special about that okra recipe? There was one thing for sure: I needed to get my hands on it.

  “What’s so important about a cookbook?” I asked.

  “Rae Lynn has the best okra around and she claimed the secret was safe in her recipe book.” He scrunched his face and his eyebrows rose. “I wouldn’t mind taking a gander at it.”

  “Anyways, I know that you see Stanley at Cole’s. How is he holding up?” I asked, poking around.

  “He didn’t come to Cole’s last night, but we’ve got some beer drinkin’ to do tonight in honor of Owen. Among other things.” There was a hint of secrets on his face. “I left a message with Inez for him to stop by tonight.”

  “You mean gambling tonight?” I asked, followed up with a laugh. “Everyone in town knows what is going down at Cole’s.”

  “What?” Bartleby asked in an offended tone. “Why, nothin’ is going down. We are hard-working men who enjoy a drink or three.”

  “I hear ya.”

  I waved.

  “You ain’t staying for my Kentucky round steak?” he asked, using the fancy name we called fried bologna.

  “I wish I could,” I hollered over my shoulder. “But I’ve been invited to the Sweet Adelines.”

  “And you’re starting to think about election time.” A knowing grin crept up on his lips because he knew that the election was two years away, and it was about the time everyone started to talk about it. “I guess you’ll be turning up at all sorts of events in the near future.”

  “I reckon I will,” I called out over my shoulder and headed out of the kitchen into the dining room, where the restaurant was filled.

  Yep, secrets in a small town didn’t stay covered up for long. I couldn’t help but wonder if Myrna’s story about Owen trying to steal her recipe wasn’t really the other way around.

  Chapter Nine

  I greeted, nodded, waved, and shook hands as I made my way out onto Main Street.

  It was nice to see a few days where the sun was out. We’d had an unseasonable amount of rain over the past few months and everything was finally drying out. Old historic buildings lined Main Street on both sides. A few people were gathered around the town troubadour as he strung his guitar and twanged the songs of old country crooners like Conway Twitty. The hanging baskets on the carriage lights were freshly made, thanks to Myrna Savage.

  The traffic whizzed by and my thoughts got lost in the sound. Myrna did a lot for this community. She was the only florist. She was the president of the Beautification Committee. She sat on the town council and she was bound and determined to win that cook-off. Was she really after Owen’s secret recipe in his book?

  Or had Owen tried to lift her grow recipe like she’d said, and made her mad enough to murder him?

  “Anything is possible.” Poppa stood next to me on the curb.

  “You can read my thoughts?” I whispered.

  “No, that would be neat though.” He huffed and puffed a
longside me across the street. “I can tell by the look on your face that you haven’t ruled out Myrna Savage.”

  I nodded slightly so it wouldn’t look as if I had a tic or something going on with my neck.

  Kim’s Buffet was packed with older women in pillbox hats, gloves, and matching pink suits like the one Mama had on this morning. The tables were decorated with pink tablecloths, pink doilies for each place setting, and pink glitter. When I looked around, Poppa was gone.

  “Welcome to the luncheon,” Mrs. Kim said in her accented English. She gestured me to move along. I had to do a double take when I noticed it was her under the sea of pink. “What?” she scowled.

  “I’m happy to be here.”

  I moved along and noticed my mama in the far right corner, so I went far left.

  “Why, Kendrick.” Ruby Smith waved and headed in my direction. “I’m so glad to see you. Your mama said you’ve been spending many long hours with that new deputy.” She winked, her shoulders bunched up around her ears. She shifted her tall, lanky body to the right, one arm curled around her waist, the other in the air flailing a cocktail around. “You know what I say,” she used her fingertips to brush down the edges of her short red hair, “‘let the man take you to bed and enjoy all if it.’” The words oozing out of her orange-painted lips were like poison to my ears.

  “That’s some advice I won’t be taking. He’s my deputy and I’m the sheriff,” I reminded her.

  “Oh, honey, I know, but a little pretend play never hurt a soul.” She lifted her glass to her lips and swigged it back. “Now, where is that boy with the drinks?” Her head rotated around.

  “He’s as professional as I am. We have a working relationship and that’s all.” How did this get turned around on me? This was exactly how gossip around here got started. “I need to come to the store and get me a new clock.”

  “Oh, no.” Her brows formed a V. “Dick and Bob died?”

  I’d gotten the mantel anniversary clock from her antique store when I moved onto Free Row. The gold plaque that was screwed on the front of it said “Happy Anniversary Dick and Bob.”

  “No. Dick and Bob are as happy as ever and about to have yet another anniversary.” I knew that only because I’d moved on Free Row once I was running for sheriff. “I need a clock for my kitchen and I was going to come down and look around.”

  Plus I wanted to talk to her about Rae Lynn and that cookbook since I’d understood them to be best friends. Here wasn’t the place.

  “You come on by tomorrow. I’ll fix you up. I got this cute cat one whose eyes roll around and has this long black tail that swings back and forth.” She grabbed another cocktail from the tray when the boy passed.

  “Being here reminds me of Sandy Godbey.” I pinched my lips and shook my head, hoping to score a little information.

  “If she was still a member, which she is not.” Ruby waved her hand around. The cocktail swished side to side. “I’d run her off. I hope Rae Lynn is haunting her.”

  “Why?” I asked and took an eggroll off the food tray when it passed.

  “She always said that girl wasn’t a gold digger, but an ingredient digger.” Ruby snickered. “Who ever heard the like? Ingredient digger.”

  “What is that?” I played coy.

  “According to Rae Lynn, all Sandy wanted or talked about was the cookbook. And that is what started the family feud.” Ruby got interrupted as the Sweet Adelines started to sing and bring the celebration to order.

  “Family feud?” I asked. “I thought those two were thicker than thieves.” I referred to the brothers.

  “Only when Rae Lynn was living. God bless her soul.” Ruby’s lips thinned. She bowed her head and said a prayer. “I reckon she was standing at them pearly gates Preacher always talks about. You know.” Her eyes drew to mine. “The one where Peter is supposed to be with open arms?”

  “I’m sure she was.” I gave a sympathetic eye her way. Both of us turned to the harmonizing Adelines that had taken their place in the windows at the front of the restaurant.

  “I’d gone down to Wally Lamb’s to redo some business stuff and I was sitting in the waiting room until my appointment. I couldn’t help but hear Rae Lynn in his office discussing her will,” Ruby said.

  “You heard her talk about her will?” I asked, baiting Ruby for more information.

  “Thin walls.” Her jaw locked.

  “Yes, I bet they are in that new strip mall.” It sure would be nice to hear what she knew, even though I knew I was going to have to get Wally Lamb to give me a look at the will. “What did you hear Rae Lynn say?” I acted as if I was just being nosy and not on the job.

  “She told Wally Lamb to give Stanley the land and house.” She sucked in a deep breath. “She only gave Owen that darn cookbook.” She shook her head. “Poor Owen.”

  The Sweet Adelines sang their hearts out, filling the restaurant with their music, making it hard for me to continue having a conversation with Ruby.

  Mama stood in the middle. Her mouth opened wide with the corners tipped up as she sang the songs alongside her friends. Her head swayed like a wave to the tune of their voices. Her eyes lit up and her smile grew bigger when she saw me standing in the back.

  “Sheriff.” Edna Easterly moseyed up to me and greeted me in her slow southern voice. She might’ve been a Sweet Adeline, but I heard she wouldn’t get all fancied up in a pink suit like the others.

  I’d heard right.

  “Now, Edna.” I looked up at her brown fedora with the pink ribbon tied around the base. A long pink feather was hot-glued to the ribbon and curled over the top of the hat. On the opposite side was a notecard with the word “Reporter” written in pink Sharpie to match. She wore a pair of brown khaki pants, a brown tee, and pink Converse lace-ups that had seen much better days. “Is this the latest Sweet Adeline attire?” I smiled.

  The edges of her eyes softened and lifted when she returned the gesture.

  “You know me. I’ve always got to be ready when there might be a story around. I told them that I wasn’t going to be putting on a suit for no one.” She retrieved a little notebook out of her pocket and pulled a pen from behind her ear. She turned her head toward the sweet sounds of her friends and asked, “Is there a reason you’re here? Any leads on Owen Godbey?”

  “I’m here to support my mama.” I nodded toward the singing group. Mama’s face beamed.

  “I can smell a lead a mile away.” Edna’s eyes glazed over. “You, Sheriff, are here to find a lead.”

  “I’ll tell you what.” I was about to make a deal that Edna couldn’t refuse. “I could ask around here and get some details about a particular Sweet Adeline. Or I could give you the exclusive to run the story before anyone else after it’s solved.”

  “I’m listening.” She nodded her head toward the door and her body followed.

  I headed outside with her. She started to write in the notepad as I spoke.

  “I know that you have your ear and finger on the hot button.” I wasn’t above stroking Edna’s ego. “I also know that you give a fair and balanced account of all the women in Cottonwood, and Sandy Godbey would be no exception.”

  “Are you telling me that Sandy is a suspect?” Edna asked.

  “Everyone is a suspect, Edna. This is where I need you.” My eyes shifted to the notepad and back up to her face. “I need you to help me find her. There’s no listed address, nothing in the courthouse documents from their divorce. I’d just like to have a word with her. Anyone who knew him.”

  “Stanley and Inez put a notice in the paper. I was a little shocked they aren’t having a funeral.” Curiosity set on her face.

  “They will have to have a service without his remains.”

  There was a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m sure I can locate her. She was a fascinating woman.” Edna scribbled a few things on her notepad.


  “How?”

  I wanted to know any particulars I could get.

  “She and Owen were tied at the hip. I think it was a shock to him when she filed for divorce. In fact, I got a copy of the papers and she wanted the family cookbook and that was all. When Owen wouldn’t hand it over, she sued him for everything.” Edna paused and glanced out over Main Street.

  That darn cookbook again.

  Betty Murphy chirped over the walkie-talkie, “Calling Sheriff Lowry, calling Sheriff Lowry.” I slid my finger along the volume button to turn it down.

  “Hold that thought.” I held up my finger to Edna and took a few steps away for privacy. I pushed in the button on the side. “Go ahead, Betty.”

  “Max Bogus called and he said he needs to see you right away. Urgent.” I barely let Betty finish before I ran across Main Street and around Cowboy’s Catfish, where I’d parked the Jeep in the alley behind it.

  “Tell him I’m on my way.” I jumped in and put the Jeep in gear. “I’ll call you later, Edna!” I hollered out the window.

  “Wait. Is something going on?” Edna ran after me. I didn’t answer.

  “I’ll say,” Betty quipped back. “Max said he had the cause of death and you might be surprised. Poison.”

  “Poison?” I pushed the pedal as far as it could go.

  Chapter Ten

  The Jeep nearly jumped the curb as it skidded up in front of Cottonwood Funeral Home. I couldn’t wait to see what Max had gotten from the preliminary report.

  “I remember being laid right there in that window.” Poppa’s ghost appeared in the passenger side of the Jeep. “It was in my will.”

  “I remember.” I gulped down the lump in my throat that always lodged there when I recalled that terrible day. “Where have you been?”

  I was good at changing the subject when it came to matters I didn’t want to discuss.

  “I’ve been looking around.” He was sneaking around in his cool ghost form. “But I think you are going to have to find that cookbook to see what everyone is talking about.”