by Tonya Kappes
“Beats me.” He lifted his hands in the air. “It was that way when I picked it up.”
“It wasn’t that way when I put the police tape around it last night,” I said.
“Listen, lady.” He looked at me and I tapped my five-point sheriff’s star. “Sheriff. I only do what I’m told. I got the order this morning when I got here and drove over to Cottonwood, put the thing on my tow, and brought it here.”
“What did you do with the police tape?” I questioned.
“There was no police tape on the truck or I would’ve called to our dispatch.” He seemed like a man who followed protocol. For some reason I believed him. “They said the keys were in the floorboard. So I put them in the ignition to loosen the wheels and off I went. I noticed how messed up the seats were, but didn’t think nothing of it. We usually don’t get calls to come pick up Mercedes to bring and destroy, so it’s typical to what I usually see. Junk.”
Without another word, I got in the truck and pulled out of the impound lot, but not without looking back in the rearview mirror, where I could see the woman from the office staring at me as I drove off.
For an old truck, it really did have great pick up and the engine was smooth. Owen did take care of it, but someone wanted to get ahold of it, and for what? I slid my hands in and out of the rips as I drove, just to see if I found anything. By the looks of it, the person who ripped up the seats would stop at nothing to find exactly what they were looking for and apparently what Owen had, they wanted.
It wasn’t until I parked in the alley behind Cowboy’s Catfish that I really got a good gander at the truck.
Finn pulled up and parked behind me.
“This thing is a mess.” Betty looked inside, her pocketbook hooked in the crook of her arm. It was quittin’ time and she wasn’t about to stay another minute longer. “I’ve switched over dispatch and am heading over to craft night at Lulu’s. Duke’s inside.” It wasn’t unusual for the small towns in Kentucky to combine their dispatch services after hours.
“What is the craft this week?” I asked, knowing Lulu always did something different and it was a big time for the women.
“Stained glass.” She drew her shoulders up and together. “I’ve always wanted to try.”
“That sounds like fun.” I smiled at her. I loved that at her age she still wanted to have a job and go out within the community. Most of her friends were in the retirement community and happy to be there.
“It’s also interesting that the piece of glass you had for evidence was stained glass.” Betty turned and walked down the alley.
“What?” I asked.
“Some of the evidence came back from the lab. On the fax machine.” She walked on off.
Finn and I rushed into the office.
“The report says that the glass was stained-glass fragments and there were some specks of dirt that turned out to be hog feces.” Finn read the paper. It was our first real clue.
“Pig poop?” My nose curled. “That could explain where the barbwire had come from. I know hog farmers use electric fence to keep the coyotes out. And the only family I know in town that raise hogs are the Harts.”
“As in Katy Lee?” Finn asked about one of my best friends.
“As in Rowdy Hart, Katy’s brother.” I sucked in a deep breath. “In fact, Betty told me that he’d heard Owen had been working for Rowdy over at the cemetery since Myrna fired him.”
“But how well do you know Rowdy?” Finn asked. “He’s a big dude. He could definitely pick up Owen. I won’t go to Cole’s. I’ll head on over to Rowdy’s with you.”
“No, I want you to go to Cole’s because Rowdy goes there too.” It would be interesting to see how Rowdy acted around Finn. “He can put away a few cold ones and maybe it’ll loosen up his lips, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” He grinned. “If you need me, I’m here.”
“Let me take a quick look at the truck before you drive me back to my Jeep.”
We walked back outside and after we put gloves on, Finn went to the driver’s side and I went to the passenger side.
It looked like the contents of the glovebox had been rummaged through and thrown on the floorboard. The truck’s registration, insurance card from Rowdy’s family insurance company, and a composition notebook were among the items. I thumbed through the notebook. Page after page, there were recipes written down in frilly handwriting. I flipped it over to the front page—in faded ink it read “Property of Rae Lynn Godbey.”
“Finn,” I gasped. “I think we just got what everyone seems to be looking for.”
“You found the cookbook?” he asked and looked up. Our eyes met. Suddenly all of my common sense skittered and I felt all giddy.
I couldn’t tell if my heart was racing because I could feel his breath on my face, or that I had just found the infamous cookbook, or that the touch of his fingers ran up through my arms after I handed it to him.
“I, um…” I closed my eyes and got my composure. “And we were looking for a hardback cookbook.”
I turned around and smiled so he didn’t see.
Chapter Twelve
As Finn drove me back to Clay’s Ferry, poor Duke was stuffed in the backseat of Finn’s Dodge Charger. His tongue was sticking out and he was panting. His breath was so bad, I would’ve rather he farted.
Finn tried to be polite and rolled down his window, which only made Duke crazier as he lunged his body over to Finn’s side and stuck his head out the window.
As Finn wrestled with Duke, I quickly thumbed through the pages of the cookbook. There wasn’t anything special that stuck out to me, but I was far from a chef. I was able to cook the basics and stick things in the Crock-Pot, but beyond that it was dining out. There was an okra recipe, but nothing I saw in it stood out, except that she used buttermilk to coat them along with cornmeal. She used a cast-iron skillet to fry, which seemed a little messy to me, but maybe that was her secret since I’d only known it fried in a fryer. I thought that I might try my hand out in the kitchen and make it just to see what all the fuss was about.
Maybe it was just the fact that Rae Lynn was a good cook and she had that special touch for this particular recipe; she just might’ve added a dash here or there like most southern women did. Who knew? Somehow this book had something to do with Owen. But what?
“I’ll call you when I get out of Cole’s,” Finn said when he parked at the impound.
There was something about him and his confidence that inspired me. I wanted to do my best and I cared what he thought about me.
“I’m going to go try my hand at stained glass,” I informed him and stared into his brown eyes. There was a warm glow filling my chest. I gulped. “I’ll let you know who’s there and if I find out anything. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that someone knifed his truck.”
“Sounds good.” Finn’s smile broadened. “But you’ll need to get out of the car so we can do that.”
“Sheriff,” he called after me before I shut the door. His smile faded a little when I looked back at him. “We will figure this out. I know that you don’t like people looking out for you, but you be careful.”
“I’m fine.” I waved him off and grabbed my bag. I stood there and watched while he zoomed off as Duke relieved himself before our ride back to Cottonwood.
I’m fine since it’s you that’s looking out after me. I bit my lip at how strangely flattered I was by his interest, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. We were coworkers. It wouldn’t look good, especially getting close to election season. I gripped the handle of the bag and put all my energy into it before I opened the driver’s door to let Duke jump in.
“Go on.” I encouraged him to move to his spot on the passenger seat.
He looked back at me. “What?” I asked and glanced around him.
My eyes narrowed on a knife stabbed in
the passenger seat of my truck. Attached to the blade was a blank dog tag in the shape of a bone.
“Duke.” I patted him out of the Jeep and opened the back door for him to sit in the backseat. I wasn’t about to touch the knife.
Fiery anger swelled up in me. Someone was sending me a message, and I didn’t take threats too kindly. I glanced up at the office of S&S—it was dark. I looked up at the roofline of the office and dragged my eyes down the gutter. I counted two different video cameras.
I put my bag on the front seat and took out my camera. I snapped all sorts of photos of the knife from different angles and close-ups. I took photos of the office, the space between my Jeep and the office, the road around my Jeep, and made a note to come back for the security footage.
After I snapped gloves on my hands, I took the knife out and brought it up to my face. The shell handle was plastic and the knife was dull. It reminded me of a knife my Poppa would’ve given me as a child. I put the knife and the tag in an evidence bag.
It wasn’t a knife that could do any real damage, but it was there to send a message. Someone didn’t like me snooping around. Duke jumped up to the passenger seat next to me and poked his nose on the window.
“Too bad.” I leaned over and rolled down the window. Duke draped his front paws on the window ledge. I threw it in gear and headed straight to Cottonwood, namely Lulu’s Boutique. I used one hand to steer and the other to rub down Duke’s back. I could deal with someone threatening me. But messing with my dog was a whole other ballgame.
“I’ll protect you.” I looked over at Duke. His tongue was flapping out of his mouth, his ears pushed back as he let the wind blow around him as we zoomed back into town.
I kept an extra change of clothes in my car for times like these. Though I was always on duty, when I did something that I considered after hours, I made sure to change into my street clothes. Even though I’d known these women all my life, there was something about the uniform that made them more standoffish.
I grabbed my bag and the clothes and held the door open for Duke to join me. There was a light coming from the craft room and the sounds of laughter spilled out into the night. Duke made our presence known before I did.
“Hi, Duke!” The greetings were echoed and overlapping each other from different women.
“Are you by yourself?” Lulu asked him in a soft baby voice.
It wasn’t unusual for Duke to wander around Cottonwood. Everyone knew him and they would drop him off on Free Row or give dispatch a call if he was out too long to make sure I knew where he was.
“I hope I get a warm welcome like Duke.” The room was filled with most of my mama’s friends, including her. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of them had anything to do with Owen. Any of them might say they’d kill to get a look at the cookbook but probably wouldn’t actually do it. Or would they? I gripped the handles of my bag a little tighter.
“You sure do, Kendrick.” Lulu smiled. Her black razor-cut short hair was a little spikier on the top this evening. She had on a chunky glass necklace and glass-bead bracelets going up her arm. She was always very stylish and tonight was no different. “We are so excited to see you. Don’t you love the pansy stained-glass stepping stone we are going to make?” She patted the round cement stone with three green stained-glass stems with purple pansy petals. It was really pretty. “It will take a couple of classes.”
“Yoo-hoo!” Mama spotted me first thing. She shooed a hand at Viola White, who was sitting next to her. “Move on down so Kenni can sit here.”
Viola grumbled under her breath.
“It’s okay, Viola.” I pointed to an open chair next to Edna Easterly. “I’m gonna sit right here in case I need to go.”
Mama glared. She gritted her teeth under a fake smile. “I don’t give a hoot or a holler if you get called out or not. You will come sit right here by your mama.” She patted the seat next to her.
“You might as well.” Viola’s lips pinched. “I’ve already moved.”
Edna and I exchanged glances. She pulled a piece of paper out of her notebook, the one she never left home without—she scribbled God-knows-what in the thing. She slid the paper across the craft table when I walked by. I stopped and bent down with my palm over the paper.
“Good evening, Edna.” I smiled.
“You got the killer yet?” Edna asked, keeping up with the pain-in-the-neck banter she always gave me when we ran into each other.
“You know I can’t reveal anything.” I winked and played along, knowing if she and I didn’t have these types of exchanges when were seen together, everyone in town would know something was up.
“So that means that you have no leads in Owen Godbey’s murder?” she asked.
“Murder?” A few gasps blanketed the room. As if they hadn’t already heard.
I glared at Betty. Her gasp was the loudest.
I pulled myself up to a straight standing position and put the paper in my bag.
“Hi.” I stopped by the table where my friend Katy Lee Hart was sitting. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I hear you are super busy.” She smiled. “We were thinking about getting together tomorrow night for a movie night.” She referred to our group of friends.
“Can’t. I have a town-council meeting. You aren’t coming?” I laughed inwardly, recalling the last one we had, when I fell off the stage and landed in Finn’s strong arms. My heart fluttered thinking about it. I hadn’t forgotten about those arms since. “I’m going to propose a site for a sheriff’s office.”
“I might come just for the fireworks,” she said, knowing I was going to have a hard time passing my ideas on to the town council. “How’s the case going?”
“I do have a question for you about electric fencing.” It was the perfect opportunity to ask her. “I know Rowdy has some hogs. Does he use high-grade electric fencing?”
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “He never has. He thinks it’s inhumane. He hated it when Daddy used it, so when he took over the hogs and moved them to his place, he did away with it.”
“Darn.” I pretended to be sad. “I had a couple of questions about it. But I did find out that he was so nice to Owen by giving him some odd jobs at the cemetery.”
“If you want to call it that.” She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t call smoking pot a job.”
“Huh?” That was the last thing I thought I’d hear.
“Yeah. I went out to the farm to give Owen his new home insurance policy and get a signature and they were smoking pot on the back porch. Rowdy tried to cover it up, but I know the smell of pot. Plus, Owen’s eyes were all glazed over and he was laughing about nothing,” she said. “Then the next thing I know, Owen is dead.”
“When was this?” I asked.
“The day Owen died. Or was murdered,” she corrected herself.
“Ladies, tonight we leave work on the outside.” Lulu walked over and interrupted our little powwow. I was glad that she did because Katy Lee had thrown me for a loop. Now I knew where Owen had been on the day of his death.
“There is no negative energy in the creative craft room,” Lulu chirped.
“There is the linger of an On The Run hotdog,” Inez Godbey blurted out from the corner of the room where she sat all alone. Our eyes met. She looked away. Her fingers fiddled with the small plastic cups filled with colorful glass that were on the table in front of her.
Lulu didn’t like the fact someone smelled something other than the candles she sold up front in the boutique. She quickly ran around the room spraying some aerosol cans in the air and fanning the odor with her hand.
“Stop that,” Myrna Savage spat when she walked in the craft room with a tomato plant nestled in her arms. She shielded the plant with her hand. “Don’t you dare get those chemicals around my plant.”
“Sorry, Myrna.” Lulu quickly changed directio
ns.
I went to the bathroom to change my clothes and no sooner than I walked out the bathroom door did I hear a full-on cat fight between Myrna Savage and Inez Godbey.
“I dare you to sit next to me after what you’ve done to our family.” Inez stood up and planted her palms on the craft table. She glared at Myrna.
“Why are you hollerin’ like a stuck pig?” Myrna put her plant down on the table.
“You gonna sit over there all high and mighty like you didn’t kill Owen? I’d be ashamed if I were you,” Inez said as tears rolled down her face.
As profanities flew out of their mouths, everyone else’s mouths dropped and eyes nearly popped right out of their sockets.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come here.” Inez grabbed her bag; her chair fell over and thumped on the floor. “But no.” Her head swayed side to side. “Stanley told me to go, get out of the house, it’s good for your soul. Do something creative.” She flung her purse in the air, tossing it over her shoulder, and knocked the tomato plant in the process.
The plant catapulted into the air and hit the wall with a thud. The soil and small tomato seeds dripped down the wall. It was a scene just like the greenhouse.
“All hell’s about to break loose.” Edna pushed me out of the way, her camera snapping as the two women continued to fight.
“You low-down dirty...” Myrna said some words not fittin’ to hear before she scurried toward Inez, but not before I got in between them.
“Ladies.” I stepped in and dropped my bag on the floor. My uniform tumbled out. I left it there for the time being so I could calm the two of them down. “There is no need to act like this.”
“Kenni, did you see what she did to my prize tomato?” Myrna pointed a finger at Inez.
“Pointing is not polite,” Mama chimed in. We all turned and stared at her. I put my hand up like a stop sign.
“That’s two people in her family that have sabotaged me. First, Owen.” Myrna spat his name as if there was a bitter taste in her mouth. “Now you.” She jutted the finger a little more forward.
