A Killing Secret

by Robert E. Dunn

  “Because I should have known.” Billy stared across the room. He wasn’t seeing the cheap art prints of flowers or the neutral-tone wallpaper. He was looking at a moment and believing it could have been different.

  “The world is never an easy place,” I said. “People don’t always say they need help. They don’t always know. Rose may only have asked for help for a friend. She might have been trying to get an abuser out of her life. Anything in between. But there is no magic signal that the abused give. And the abusers are always masters at hiding their true selves. It’s usually how they like to work, in plain sight. Safety in normalcy.”

  “But—”

  “Save it.” I shifted on the seat, then pulled his chin around to face me. I put my gaze right into his eyes. “If she was intimidated or abused, chances are she would never have opened up to you until it was too late. There comes a point when a woman mistrusts the motives and understanding of the best of men. It can be as devastating to be disbelieved, or given the—logical explanation—for what you know to be true, as it is to suffer the predator.”

  He looked away. Billy didn’t want me to think it, but I was certain he was hiding his face.

  “I would have believed her,” he said.

  I had no doubt of that. I didn’t have any answer for him. I kept my mouth shut and let him have his feelings. Sometimes I think we rush too quickly to protect others from honest emotions.

  We sat quietly for a minute. Billy didn’t move any closer to me and I didn’t reach out to him. We had put up a wall between us. I touched the scar that snaked out of my eyebrow and thought about that other wall in my life.

  Funny how our lives pick up their own symbols, and how they come to define us. There were times I thought I never rolled out from under the shade of that mud wall in Iraq. It felt like all the blood in my body had drained out into the blowing dust. In those moments, I was sure my body had been left empty and naked in a foreign land, and all the rest of my life was a projection of might-have-beens on the sides of my grave.

  That could have been the perfect moment to reject the feeling of isolation and reach out to the one good thing in my life. Timing has never been my best feature.

  “Tomorrow,” Billy said. He paused and appeared to be thinking something through. “Or later today, we’re going to be a little more—” He waved his hands in front of himself like he was trying to find the perfect word in the air. “Proactive.”

  “You look pleased with that word,” I said.

  “It’s a good word. And about time.” He got up from the bench.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to wake up Greg.”

  “Greg Sellers?”

  “Yep. If the sheriff can’t sleep, why should the prosecuting attorney?”

  “What do you want him for?”

  “So he can wake up the judge. I have some things to ask them both. Then we’re going to have a talk with Hosea and Sissy Fisher.” Billy seated his water-stained Stetson on his head and walked away.

  I watched him all the way down the long hall until he turned for the exit. Then I watched a little longer.

  * * * *

  Uncle Orson still hadn’t woken up and I hadn’t slept any more when my phone rang. The sun was long up. You could see the slight brightening of the sky from the hospital windows. It did little to change the feeling of the endless hallways and fluorescent lights.

  “Billy?” I said when I answered.

  “I need you over here,” he said.

  “When?”

  “Two hours.”

  “Why?”

  “Proactive,” was all he said. Then he hung up.

  I checked in on Chuck. He was drinking juice and, I’m pretty sure, making romantic suggestions to Marion. She had a smiling blush. He had a crooked but still frisky grin.

  “I guess you’re going to be okay,” I said.

  “Better than okay,” he said.

  “How’s that?”

  “It’s not every day you get that second chance.”

  Marion frowned at him and took the juice cup away. “Yes, it is,” she said. “It’s just not every day you take it.”

  Chuck looked at her, then over at me.

  I expected an expletive.

  Chuck turned back to Marion and said, “Well, shoot.” He took her hand. “You always have a better way to look at things.”

  I smiled at them both and thought there’s something to be said for being treated like a lady.

  * * * *

  Showered, changed, but at the short end of my rope, I walked into the SO. Billy caught me before I got very far. The door to his office was closed. “I need you to trust me,” he said.

  “About what?” I asked. “And who’s waiting in there?”

  “This won’t be easy for you.”

  “What won’t?”

  “Shutting up and listening.”

  I looked at Billy. His face was grim, but I didn’t see any anger.

  “I’m going to say some things,” he said.

  “What—”

  “Listen.”

  I did.

  “We’re going in there and I’m going to talk. I’m going to piss you off. I’m going to say things I shouldn’t. If you can’t hold yourself together, you can’t be here. But it’s better if you hear it.”

  “I trust you,” I said. I meant it.

  “Good.” Billy turned.

  I followed him into his office, where Sissy and Hosea Fisher were waiting with Landis Tau.

  They were all seated. Billy stepped around his desk and sat. There was no other chair.

  One of those kinds of meetings, I thought.

  Landis gave me a pitying smile.

  I returned one that, I hoped, communicated an it-is-what-it-is attitude. Then I leaned against the wall and waited.

  Sissy kicked things off with a glower. “Does she need to be here?” she asked.

  I wondered if her bandaged face hurt and couldn’t help but smile.

  That pissed her off even more. The look she gave me was a middle finger.

  “I think so,” Billy said. “The reason I asked you in was to give you my personal apology, that of the department, and Katrina’s, for the difficulties that have come from our investigations.”

  Billy and Sissy looked at me at the same time. His expression was a warning. Hers was a self-satisfied victory lap.

  I don’t know what exactly my face said, but I’m sure it wasn’t anything apologetic. I straightened my back and stood away from the wall.

  Sissy must have thought I was coming after her. She uncrossed her legs, planting both feet on the tile, ready to jump.

  I smiled again.

  Billy repeated his apology, going into greater detail, but I wasn’t listening anymore. My attention was welded to Sissy. More specifically, to her feet. She was wearing the same moccasins she had at the theater. They were rough-finished leather with beads in the fringe and silver conchas. Her jeans were tucked into them. I noticed wisps of rabbit fur sticking out through the lacings. The interesting thing was the absence of water stains. They were warm and waterproof. Not what you expect of pretty footwear.

  “Isn’t that right, Detective Williams?” Billy asked.

  I looked up.

  He was staring.

  Sissy looked again. Then Hosea and finally Landis.

  Billy added, “Your sincerest apologies.”

  He had asked for my trust. He had also warned me I wouldn’t like it. He was right. I looked right at Sissy Fisher and said, “I am deeply sorry for the pain you and your family have suffered and for my part in it.”

  “It’s about time,” Sissy said. “Is she going to lose her job?”

  “Consequences will be discussed and determined.” Billy sounded very official.<
br />
  It sounded, in fact, as if my job was on the line. I think Sissy believed him. I didn’t.

  “Again,” I said, “I’m very sorry, and want to assure you that we are working hard to find Rose’s murderer, and to track down Levi for the murder of Clark Beasley and for wounding Donny.”

  Sissy suddenly looked uncomfortable, and it wasn’t with my apology. There was a shift in her eyes and body language when I said the name of the man Donny was with when Levi shot him.

  Wanting to be sure, I asked, “Will Donny be able to attend the funeral of Mr. Beasley?”

  Her response was quick. “No.” She pulled her ranch coat closed and recrossed her legs. “They weren’t that close,” she said. “We will, of course, send flowers to the family.” She looked up from her hunched position at Hosea, then back to Billy, as if he needed some clarification. “Clark had been with the Star Road Theater show for years. He was a wonderful musician.”

  “I know,” Billy answered. “I knew him pretty well myself.”

  Sissy looked at the floor.

  Sensing a weakness in his client, Landis jumped in. “What’s the real issue here? I don’t think you asked for a meeting to apologize. Not in the middle of a criminal investigation. What are you fishing for?”

  Billy leaned back in his big padded chair. He looked at me with an expression as flat and bland as the Oklahoma turnpike.

  I leaned back against the wall and waited.

  Chapter 16

  “There are developments,” Billy said.

  “In the case?” Landis asked. “Since when does the sheriff include civilians in an open investigation?” He looked over at me and back to Billy as if expecting to catch us sharing a secret code. He was sitting on the edge of the seat and his feet didn’t touch the floor. He still had more class and dignity than his client.

  Sissy said, “You found my daughter’s killer?”

  “Daughter?” I asked.

  “Rose felt like my daughter.”

  “But Levi never felt like your son?”

  She glared at me again.

  I didn’t give her the chance to say anything more. I asked Hosea, “What about you, Mr. Fisher?”

  “None of ’em are mine. I just put the roof over us.”

  Sissy turned on her husband and flared like a cobra. “Stop it. That’s not the kind of thing we’re here to talk about.”

  Hosea looked defiant but wary.

  Before the other man could say more, Landis pushed in again. “What are we here to talk about?”

  “A second ago, I said developments,” Billy answered. “You asked the obvious question, if those developments had anything to do with the case involving Rose’s killing. The truth is that our investigations have gone wider. Her death is not the only case we’re concerned about.”

  “I don’t think anything you have to share is in our best interest to hear,” Landis said.

  “You’re telling us Donny is no longer a suspect,” Sissy said.

  “Donny is not a suspect,” Billy responded.

  “We should go,” Landis implored Sissy. “He’s not doing you any favors.”

  “He’s right,” Billy said. “Beware of cops bearing gifts.”

  “I don’t understand any of it.” Hosea spoke like he was making a royal pronouncement. “But I think I want to hear.”

  Billy waited for any more objections, then went on speaking to Sissy. “We have two suspects.”

  She said nothing.

  “You talked about Rose’s diary and that she wrote about my election,” he continued. “Rose asked me to hire a young man she was seeing.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “No. It’s not. Secrets are a part of your household, aren’t they?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You didn’t know she was involved with Tom Dugan. And that their relationship may have been abusive in some ways?”

  “Then it sounds like you have your man. But you said two suspects. Or is the other someone a mystery to distract attention from you and the sheriff’s department?”

  “You know the other man, too. E. Lawson.” Billy dropped the name like a shot across the bow, and it worked.

  Hosea sat up straighter. In fact, he looked like a man ready for a fight.

  Sissy looked down at her toes. “What makes you think I know any such man?”

  “Too many coincidences,” Billy answered. “He was the man stealing your trees, Mr. Fisher.”

  Hosea didn’t look surprised.

  “And, Lawson has a history of extorting local businesses.”

  “Not us.” Sissy’s denial was quick but quiet.

  “Why not?”

  This time her response was not so quick. “How should I know?”

  “You’re angling for connections that aren’t there,” Landis said. He slipped from the chair and stood up. He was barely a head taller than the sheriff’s desk. “We’re leaving.”

  “Hang on,” Hosea held up his hand. Then he waggled his fingers as he thought something through. He looked at his wife. Then he looked at Billy. He looked at Landis, then back at Sissy before he asked, “You knew?”

  Landis darted forward with both hands raised. “Not another word, Mr. Fisher.”

  The two of them, Hosea and Sissy Fisher, sat silent, but with the energy of a storm between them. Landis, already small, seemed even smaller as he stood between them. Each of them seemed to know something invisible had broken.

  Landis clearly hoped the break was a crack. I know Billy wanted to make sure it was a crevasse. He asked, “Did things begin when Levi was helping E. Lawson steal the prime trees from your land?”

  “Don’t answer that!” Landis burst out.

  “I don’t think I will,” Hosea said. He kept his gaze on the side of Sissy’s face. “But not because you tell me so. In fact, you are really my wife’s lawyer, aren’t you?” He finally looked at Landis.

  Landis stared up at the old man’s face with diminishing hope. He didn’t answer.

  Hosea didn’t wait. “I think I might need my own mouthpiece.” He stood. “I think what’s been in the dark is coming to the light. And ain’t none of us going to like what we see.”

  I watched Billy’s face as Hosea walked out the door. It showed nothing.

  “I think you are an evil man,” Sissy said. “You are using innuendo for revenge. It won’t go unanswered or unpunished.”

  Landis dropped his head in apparent defeat. “Do you ever just stop talking, Sissy?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please, let’s get out of here.”

  She didn’t look at her lawyer. She didn’t look at any of us. Sissy stood and marched out the open door. It was like she took a curse with her. We all breathed easier.

  “Sheriff,” Landis said, “I knew you were a dangerous man.”

  Billy accepted the compliment with a nod.

  To me, Landis said, “I didn’t know you had such restraint. When he offered an apology I thought you would pop. I wish you had.” He walked out, and without looking back said, “I’m sure we’ll be talking soon.”

  I shut the door behind him. “You certainly stirred that pot.”

  Billy didn’t answer. He pulled a laptop from his desk and opened it as he leaned back to prop his feet on the open drawer.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Wait,” he said. He punched away at the keys with two fingers, then right-clicked the touch pad like he’d done something important. Then he set the computer on the desk.

  “For what?”

  “I couldn’t get a warrant. ‘Not enough hard evidence,’ I was told. What I could do was kick the woodpile and see what runs out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, we can get call detail records without a warr
ant. Today I’m taking a little shortcut.”

  The laptop chimed.

  “Looks like I’ve got mail already.” Billy took his feet from the drawer and leaned in. “Instead of pulling the CDRs and digging through weeks of information, I thought we’d give them something to talk about. I asked a friend to keep an eye on Sissy Fisher’s number. The note I just sent was to tell him to start. He just wrote back. She just made a call.” He turned the computer around so the screen faced me, then asked, “Recognize that number?”

  “She just called Lawson,” I said.

  “Yep.” Billy put his feet back up. “I figure she cut her lawyer loose and did exactly what he told her not to do.”

  The laptop chimed again.

  “Open it,” Billy said.

  “It lists the numbers and says, Call Duration, 2:51.”

  “Getting harder for her to claim she doesn’t know him.” Billy looked pleased with himself.

  Another chime.

  “I wonder who that could be.” He almost cackled with joy.

  I opened the next email. “You had your friend logging Lawson’s phone too.”

  “Yep.”

  “He just called an untagged number.”

  “A burner phone, I’m betting.” Billy pulled out his own phone. “Read it to me.” He added the number to his contact list as I did. “Now we wait again.”

  I sat in the chair Landis had been using.

  “Thanks, by the way,” Billy said.

  “For what?”

  “I asked you to trust me. You did. I know it wasn’t fun or easy for you.”

  I laughed. “I’ve been censured by professionals. I didn’t like bowing and scraping to that woman, though it did show me one thing you were wrong about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Galoshes.”

  He shook his head and looked confused.

  “At the murder scene,” I reminded him. “We talked about the weird, featureless shoe prints. You said they had to be galoshes.”

  “Okay, I remember.”

  “They were moccasins.”

  “One more piece.”

  Another chime sounded from the laptop. I stood to open the email. “Lawson to the untagged number, 4:21.”

  Billy lifted his phone and hit the call button. “If this is who I think, we have all the pieces we need to make a vise and squeeze.” He put the phone to his ear and listened. After a moment he said, “Hey Levi. We need to talk.” He grinned at me like a boy who had just caught his first fish.