Southern Fried

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Southern Fried Page 16

by Tonya Kappes


  “Wow, this is really overgrown.” I looked at the tall brown stalks. “It’s so overgrown the flowers haven’t even budded and it just looks all dead.”

  The white flowers of an okra stalk were so pretty, especially in a well-kept crop field where you could see all the flowers in a row. It was almost as pretty as a picture. Like most plants, even crops, I guessed you had to have a little sunlight, and there was no way with this overgrowth that the sun could even dribble down.

  “The okra crops look worse in person.” Poppa noticed the camera and gestured.

  “I see it.” I looked up at the post Stanley had put up in the middle of the crop with the camera attached to it. “We need to hurry. Which side was the front?”

  The video of Owen played in my mind, but I wasn’t able to distinguish the front of the crop from the back, the first row from the last row.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Poppa shrugged.

  “I’m going to have to take my chances.” The tall weeds swished along my sides and my arms as I parted my way to the front of the row. At the last stalk I bent down and set my bag on the ground. I took out a baggie, put it over my hand, and dug for a scoop of soil. It was soft and easy to grab, as though it’d just been watered.

  “This is strange.” Poppa’s eyes were as haunting as his figure. “As long as I’ve been living, I’ve never seen a crop dead in one spot but with the first stalk thriving.”

  “Maybe we are on to something.” I stood up after I put the bag with the soil back in my bag and zipped it up.

  “I’ve been wondering about what you said about if each one was trying to get their own deal with that store. If Stanley and Inez were keeping to Rae Lynn’s deal, Owen found out about it, and bam.” Poppa smacked his hand together, making me nearly jump out of my skin. His fingers formed into the shape of a gun. “Bam.”

  “Enough.” I shushed him like someone other than me could hear him. “Let’s go.” I scurried back the way we came and was relieved to see the Jeep.

  “Duke?” I called out when I noticed he wasn’t sticking out the window. “Duke. Come,” I hollered.

  “Where is he?” Poppa turned and twisted.

  “I don’t know.” I suddenly became nervous. “Duke!”

  I ran around the Jeep and looked into the woods. I looked both ways down Catnip Road and didn’t see him.

  “Duke!” I yelled again, this time with panic settling in my gut.

  “He’ll be back.” Poppa reminded me how Duke was accustomed to walking around Cottonwood and people picking him up.

  “But he doesn’t know this part of town.” The desperate feeling deepened in my soul. “Duke!” Frantically I looked around. “It’s not like him to leave in the night.” The words hurried out of my mouth as my heart beat so fast. I felt like I wasn’t able to breathe.

  “Duke!” I screamed louder and louder, desperate to see him. “Duke!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It wasn’t until dawn was about to break that I decided it was time to leave Catnip Road without Duke. I had to make myself believe that he knew where he was and would find his way back or someone would find him for me like they’d always done. The only problem was that Duke didn’t know the area like he knew Free Row and Main Street and the shops there.

  I tried to have faith that everyone knew Duke and they’d return him.

  It was too early to check with anyone that Duke was familiar with like Betty or Jolee, so I decided to turn in the soil sample I’d stolen to the lab. On the way to Clay’s Ferry, I was able to talk myself into believing that Duke was safe and sound and probably either waiting on the curb of Lulu’s Boutique for Jolee’s truck to pull up or at the door of Cowboy’s Catfish begging for a bit of tasty fried bologna.

  There weren’t any cars in the parking lot in front of the old brown brick building where the lab was located. The empty flower pot was next to the back door like Tom said it would be. I put the sample in there along with my business card.

  My heart sank when I went back to my Wagoneer and Duke’s head wasn’t stuck out of the window. Why had he run off? It was so out of character for him. For a split second I wondered if the person responsible for sticking the knife in my passenger seat had taken him. But another knife just like it was found at Rowdy’s, and as of this moment, his was still the only confession and all the evidence pointed to him in Owen’s death. Though he didn’t mention Duke in his suicide note.

  The sun tugged at the horizon over the bluegrass fields on my way back into Cottonwood. I pictured Duke hanging out the window with the fresh morning wind blowing back those big floppy ears and his tongue flailing all over.

  Instead of heading straight into the office, I drove by of all of Duke’s favorite places to frequent, but there was no sign of the ornery pooch.

  “Betty.” I pushed the walkie-talkie button and talked into the speaker velcroed on my shoulder.

  “Good morning, Sheriff.” Betty immediately got back with me.

  “Duke isn’t at the office, is he?” I asked.

  “Haven’t seen him,” she chirped. “Is he supposed to be?”

  “I can’t find him.” There was no way I was going to tell her that I’d lost him on Catnip Road. “I think I’m going to go home and hook up to the system there.” I was able to use my home computer to log into our system and finish up paperwork. “Plus, I want to be home in case Duke shows up.”

  “Alrighty,” Betty said. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  My day was spent worrying about Duke, looking outside a million times, and typing in the report about Rowdy. Between all of that, I talked to Max, who hadn’t gotten the forensics back on the bullet and fragments, but swore it should be soon. I completed what I could on the report and saved it. And of course, Mama burned up my phone telling me all the people who had committed to put a “Re-elect Lowry” sign in their yard.

  By the time I got all of that done, it was nightfall and time to head on over to Tibbie Bell’s house for the rescheduled Euchre night.

  I pulled up to the curb and noticed everyone had already gotten there. I grabbed my phone, jerking the charger with it and stepping on it as soon as I got out of the Jeep.

  “That’s not good.” My chin tucked into my chest to see exactly if it was my charger that’d I’d crunched under the heel of my cowboy boot.

  It was. A loud sigh escaped me. I hoped it wasn’t a foreshadow of the rest of the evening.

  The regulars were at Euchre, minus Katy Lee and Jolee, which I expected. Jolee was my partner and she’d told me earlier that she was going to go sit with Katy Lee since she was taking the news about Rowdy’s death and his confession hard. So it was up to Tibbie Bell to find a replacement since she was in charge of our Euchre group.

  “How are you?” Tibbie’s accent dragged out the “u” sound. She frowned.

  “I’m alright.” I glanced over her shoulder at where the Euchre tables were set up and ready with bowls of peanuts, M&M’s, and a deck of cards stashed in the middle of each. There were four chairs around the table for the two pairs of teams.

  “Tonight your partner is going to be Camille,” she leaned in and whispered.

  “Shively?” I questioned. I’d not seen Camille since I had almost stuck her in jail for killing Doc Walton. Even though I sent a note letting her know the outcome of Doc Walton’s death and apologized for questioning her, I’d yet to see her around town.

  I was going to have to make good with her since she was the only doctor in town now that Doc had met his maker.

  Tibbie nodded. “Play nice, Kenni.” Her long brown hair was straight and parted down the middle. She turned on the balls of her feet. Her hair swung like a horse’s tail and nearly knocked me down.

  “Kenni is here,” she announced, stepping out of the way. “The food is in there.” She pointed to her dining room, where she had on display al
l the food the Sweet Adelines brought. “Your mama brought them brownies.” She patted her thin hips. “I’m gonna have to do extra leg lifts this week.” She waved me in. “Come on. You’re gonna let the flies in.”

  I headed straight for the food since I’d spent most of the day looking for Duke and trying to stay satisfied with what little investigation I’d done in the middle of the night. I’d almost decided not to come to Euchre, but there was no sense in staying at home or going to the office only to stare down the board and work all sorts of scenarios in my head on why I believed Rowdy Hart had not killed Owen Godbey.

  “Well, I’m ready.” Edna Easterly moseyed up to me with her fedora perched on top of her head, notebook in one hand, and pen in the other. “What do you got? You did say I’d get first scoop.”

  She reminded me of the favor I’d promised when I asked her to find Sandy Godbey’s address, which reminded me to ask Myrna why she took it out of my pants pocket. I cocked my head to the right and watched Myrna sipping on a tea in the corner of the room.

  “Why on Earth did you print that story about Inez and Myrna?” I wanted an answer.

  “It’s my job. Not to mention grabbing headlines that help me sell out.” There was excitement in her voice. “I’m even reprinting it in tomorrow’s paper.”

  “Y’all talking about the catfight?” Viola White walked up with a mink stole on her neck. She rubbed it and the vintage heart-shaped charms that hung off her charm bracelet jingled. “I bought two papers. One for me and the other I sent to my friend in California.” She chomped down on a piece of cauliflower she’d snatched from the veggie platter.

  Edna waited until Viola walked away.

  “Scoop?” She wiggled her brows.

  “According to Rowdy, Owen had been stealing the flowers off the graves so he could try and get Myrna’s secret growing recipe.” I shrugged and grabbed a plate from the stack. I tucked a napkin in my pants pocket along with a plastic fork. “They’d been drinking, and when Owen confessed, I guess Rowdy lost his mind.” I scooped up a big spoonful of Viola White’s meatballs. I had heard her secret was putting grape jelly in the Crock-Pot with them. Of course, I’d yet to try that and probably never would.

  “That’s no scoop,” Edna snarled. She stopped writing. She kept her pen on the pad and glanced up at me. “Rowdy Hart killed Owen Godbey over flowers?” Her brows cocked. Her forehead wrinkled.

  I nodded and put a couple of Mama’s brownies on my plate, careful not to let them touch the meatballs. Food touching gave me more heebie-jeebies than a dead body.

  “Are you sure?” Edna questioned.

  “Positive.” I forked a meatball. I told her how Owen had died as well as where I found the evidence. “Now, you print that along with how good of a job I’m doing on the front page tomorrow.”

  I didn’t tell her why we thought Owen had stolen the flowers.

  “I will.” Her lips pursed together. “But I have to say that I really thought there was something juicier to the story.”

  “Here you go.” Mama barged her way in between me and Edna. She stuck a pin on Edna’s shirt. “Now, you be sure to vote for Kenni in the election.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” I gave her a peck on the cheek and she scampered along, putting Vote for Lowry pins on everybody she passed, including Camille Shively, who I was certain wasn’t voting for Lowry.

  Our eyes met. Camille gave a slight smile. Her black hair was neatly parted on the side and barely curled under, touching her collarbone. She was a nice person and everyone in town loved her. I guess she took offense when I accused her of being a murderer.

  She walked over to the food table and stood in front of me.

  “Kenni, how is Tiny Tina’s going?” she asked about the prescription she’d given me for stress. A relaxation massage from Tiny Tina’s, of all places.

  “You mean the olive-oil rubdown?” I asked in a joking manner. I was sure a visit to Tiny Tina’s wasn’t going to cut all the stress I’d had and I was right.

  “You never gave it a chance, did you?” She tsked. “You probably shouldn’t be eating those meatballs because the fat content can wreak havoc on your brain along with the sugar in those brownies.”

  “I think I’ll take my chances. I’m starving.” I took the brownie and chomped down on a big bite. “Anyways, have you seen Duke?”

  “I haven’t. Is he okay?” she asked and picked up a plain carrot stick. The carrot snapped when she bit down.

  Inwardly I groaned. What was up with the carrot stick when she had all this good food the Sweet Adelines had made?

  “He’s been missing since the middle of the night.” Suddenly I wasn’t so hungry anymore. I put the plate down on the table. Maybe later after a round of cards.

  “I bet someone on Free Row put him in their house and isn’t going to give him back,” Mama said on a fly-by.

  “I didn’t lose him on Free Row.” I recalled seeing Camille’s name on Owen Godbey’s medication. “I was at Owen’s trailer, tying up loose ends,” I lied. “And he was with me in the Jeep, but when I came out, he was gone.”

  “Doesn’t he run off some?” Camille asked, her head cocked.

  “He does in town, but not out there.” The corner of my lips turned down. “It’s also unusual that he hasn’t shown up. When he does run to Jolee’s truck or Cowboy’s, he’s only gone an hour or two. Not a full day.”

  “That’s awful. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.” She grabbed another carrot.

  “Thank you. I hear we are partners tonight.” I wasn’t sure how to lead into asking her about Owen Godbey. “Jolee is hanging out with Katy Lee tonight.”

  “Ah.” Camille’s chin lifted into the air.

  “I know that you probably won’t tell me without a subpoena, but on Owen’s autopsy report, it showed he was on arthritis medication and it was expensive.” The words casually come out of my mouth. “Why does it cost so much?”

  “He didn’t have insurance.” She chomped on the carrot. “I had tried to get him all sorts of coupons, but it was still expensive. He even refused to take generic drugs.”

  “How bad was the arthritis?” I asked.

  “Pretty bad. Both knees, one hip, his left hand, and starting in the other hip.”

  “I’d heard he’d stopped taking the medicine because it was so expensive and he couldn’t afford it,” I noted.

  “Afford it?” She asked. “Are you sure we are talking about the same medication?”

  “No.” The line between my brows deepened. “I’m talking about the medication that you prescribed. According to Sandy, his ex...”

  “I know who Sandy is.”

  Her eyes shifted. She turned her head as though she were looking around to see if we were alone.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” I asked.

  “Sandy and Owen had come to see me about the medicine about a week ago.” She took a deep breath and stared at me for a few seconds. On the exhale she said, “I figure you are going to get a warrant for his records so I might as well tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” I was all ears.

  “Sandy had heard about cannabis and how it can help with many diseases, including arthritis.”

  “As in pot?”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “Cannabis is medical marijuana. Of course, I told them that I wasn’t able to prescribe them medical marijuana because of the fact that it was illegal in the state of Kentucky. However,” she paused, “if they went to say, Colorado, they could go into any cannabis store and purchase it without a prescription. Plus, it’s pretty cheap.”

  “There you are.” Toots waltzed in, her hair practically the color of flames. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

  “You have?” I took my phone out of my pocket. “No juice.” I showed her the dead phone. “I’ve been on it all day looking for Duke. He’
s missing.”

  “I heard, honey. Jolee came in to get ice cream and all sorts of I’m-feeling-down food to take over to Katy Lee’s. She asked if he’d been in there begging for food. I kept this out all day for him.” She pointed to her right eye. “It’s my good eye. I can see twenty-twenty in it.” She pointed to her left eye. “This eye ain’t no good.”

  “What do you mean?” Camille asked Toots and leaned in to get a look at that left eye.

  Toots started to explain all her ailments, but my mind was on smoking pot and Owen. I headed out to the Jeep and plugged in my phone. As soon as I plugged it in, my messages popped up. Sure enough, all of them were from Toots. She never said what she wanted so I went back inside.

  Toots was bent, her head over the back of the chair while Camille shined a flashlight Tibbie had given her to get a look into the gimp eye.

  “You come on by the office tomorrow and we will see what we can do.” Camille pulled a business card from her pocket like Cottonwood was so big she needed to give me directions.

  When Camille walked off, Toots turned her attention to me.

  “Like I said, I tried calling you earlier.” Toots popped one of Mama’s brownies in her mouth. “Sandy...” she mumbled, crumbs falling out of her mouth.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Sandy came into Dixon’s. She picked up some of Myrna’s flowers from the fresh-cut section. She said that she was going to see Inez and make peace with her. The Godbeys are the only family she’s got.” Toots nodded.

  “When was this?’ I asked.

  “About five hours ago.” She shoved another piece of brownie in her mouth. “I called that hunk too.”

  “You called Finn?” I asked.

  “Yes. Did you know he’s in Chicago?”

  She looked down the table of food to see what the next treat was going to be.

  “I did. Everyone has a right to a vacation, especially since I’ve got everything under control.” I added in that little bit for my reputation. “I do hope you get a pin from my mama. The election will be here before you know it.”

 

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