Diana Anderson - Entering Southern Country 01 - Famous in a Small Town (8 page)

In the oldest part of Cypress was the town square—which was really a town circle—sat in the middle of town on Main Street. Cypress City Hall, Police Department, Sheriff’s Department, and Post Office all sat catty-cornered to each other. Magnolias and white oaks were located around the square, and the only thing Cypress was noted for sat smack dab in the middle of the street—a one hundred and twenty-five foot giant bald cypress tree. Rumor had it that the tree was older than Methuselah, but that rumor had originated at Junior’s over coffee.

Cal drove to Janie’s Diner, located on the west side of the interstate and on Main Street. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was a bit jittery. The lunch crowd had cleared out, and most had enjoyed Janie’s special of the day. The food always tasted home-cooked. Janie had done quite well with her establishment for the past twenty-three years. Everything in the dining area was replicated of a fifties diner, from the black and white checkered tiled floor, to the chrome table and chairs with red vinyl cushions.

At fifty-four, Janie dressed the part. Her brown hair was teased high into a French twist. She wore false eyelashes and red lipstick. A white button-down shirt was tucked into her standard straight leg jeans. Her red high heels added three inches to her five foot, four inch frame.

“Hey, Cal,” Janie said as she walked over to stand across the bar from where he was perched on a stool.

“Hey, what’s the special?” he asked. He took off his hat and set it down on the counter.

She fisted her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side as she eyed him. “It’s Wednesday. What do you think?”

“Sounds good,” he said and smiled.

She hollered through the serving window, “One special with extra cranberry sauce.”

She filled a glass with ice and poured sweet tea. She slid it in front of him and popped a straw inside the glass. “Heard your old girlfriend was back.” She eyed him.

He half-smiled and took a drink of his tea. “Now how’d you hear about that?”

“Small town gossip.”

“Justin?”

She laughed. When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Well, what’s she like now? Still a wallflower?”

He sighed and said, “She never was a wallflower. Maybe a flower bud not blossomed but never a wallflower.”

She leaned in, placed her elbows on the counter, and rested her chin in her hands. When he didn’t offer more, she asked, “Well, has she
blossomed
?”

“You wouldn’t recognize her. I almost didn’t.” He thought about the surprised look on her face when he’d turned to face her in the Wallaces’ den and then the anger in her blue eyes when she’d recognized him. She had, without a doubt, blossomed. The light that shone from the chandelier reflected blue off of her black hair. Either she’d had her eyesight repaired, or she wore contacts. Whatever, the years sure looked good on her.

“So what’s with the far-away look?” Janie brought his thoughts back to the present.

“Been a long day.”

“Any leads to who killed her pa and Wanda?”

He shook his head. “May know more when the M.E. gets through with the report, and we’re waiting on ballistics as well as forensics.”

The cook called out through the window. Janie retrieved his order and slid it in front of him. She reached underneath the counter, grabbed napkin-wrapped dinnerware, and handed it to him. He unrolled it. He forked a bite of chicken and dressing.

“Guess you saw Mrs. Wallace?” She smirked.

He chewed a moment, swallowed, and eyed her. “Are you trying to ruin my supper?”

She laughed. “Late lunch or early supper?”

“Both, I’ve been busy.”

“Well, is she still after you?”

“She’s after every man who’s willing.”

“Are you, Cal?”

“Not this man. Never have been and never will be.”

“But her daughter thought different.”

“I can’t help that.”

“Maybe if you tried to explain what really happened?”

He took a drink of tea and then set down his glass. “In my line of work, I deal in evidence every day. No matter what, it’s always evidence. If the evidence is there against the accused, then no matter what the accused says, it always comes out they’re guilty. She had enough evidence, and nothing I had said could prove me innocent.”

“If she really had loved you.”

“Don’t you think that’s why she was so hurt? That’s why she left.”

She harrumphed. “She wanted to leave for many reasons, Cal, but what happened that day,just gave her guts enough to do it.” She grabbed the tea pitcher and refilled his glass. She set the pitcher down and looked hard at him. “Her mother set you up, and if I know that and you know that, then she knows it too. She’s known her mother longer than either of us put together.” She walked away to wait on another customer.

He finished his meal but hadn’t tasted much. He grabbed his hat off the bar, fished a toothpick out of the toothpick holder, stood up, and walked toward the end of the bar where Janie talked with a customer. She saw him and stepped out from behind the bar. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

“Supper was great. Thanks, Mom.” He went out the front door, onto the sidewalk, and stood. He placed his hat on his head, popped the toothpick in his mouth, and watched the traffic.

Carl’s truck drove by at a slow speed. The oldest boy, Thomas, sat on the passenger side by the door. He caught sight of Cal and his eyes widened. The other boys peered around their brother and eyed Cal. Cal waved. The two younger ones fell back in the seat. The older one looked away.

Cal chewed on his toothpick and pondered on that as he watched the truck move on down Main Street and head out of town.

19

“Get that dog out of my house!” Callie said.

“If the dog goes, I go,” Raven said.

“Whatever! I’ve had it up to here with your smugness and nasty attitude toward me.”

Raven had the dog on a leash that she’d purchased on her way home. She’d go back later for the dog food she’d bought and left it in the trunk of her car. She had been heading toward the stairs when her mother had accosted her.

“Fine. I’ll get my stuff packed.” Raven turned toward the staircase.

“She’s not going anywhere, and the dog stays,” Ted said as he walked into the room.

“What?” Callie pointed toward the dog. “He’s filthy, he’s a mutt, and she’s no better. Look at her. She’s covered in dirt.”

Raven turned toward Ted. “It’s okay. You don’t have to bother.”

“It’s no bother. This is my house, and as head of the household, I have the final say.” He walked over to stand in front of Raven, reached down, and scratched the dirt covered dog behind his ears. Ted then looked into Raven eyes. “Raven, please stay.”

He’d called her Raven, and because he’d stood up to her mother and wasn’t appalled at the dog’s condition or hers, she’d made up her mind.

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Ted. I’ll stay. But right after the funeral, I’ll be heading back home.”

Callie turned on her heel and left the room.

Raven led the dog upstairs.

She got the dog into the bathtub and wet his coat. She scrubbed him with a sponge and rinsed him, let the water out, and filled the tub again. After two good scrubbings, he had come clean, and to her surprise, he had a white coat underneath all of that dirt.

“Tomorrow, I’m taking you to the vet, get you checked out, and get your shots,” she told him as she toweled him dry. He wagged his stub of a tail.

After she had taken care of him, she stripped off her clothes and hopped into the shower.

She thought again about the duffle bag that she’d left in the trunk of her rental. She had second guessed her decision not to tell Cal about it. Withholding evidence could get her into a heap of trouble. He might think she was just like her mother and wanted to keep all of money for herself. Of course, he might never find out, but what if it belonged to someone other than Virgil, and they discovered it missing. Of course, it belonged to someone. If it hadn’t been reported missing, then it was only a matter of time before someone came forward.

Unless it’s illegally obtained money. Or … counterfeit money
. Either or, she shouldn’t have it in her possession. She looked off in thought.
What if that’s why Virgil was killed, and the killer had been there looking for it.

20

Angus barreled through the front doors of the sheriff’s department and headed straight down the hallway and flung open the sheriff’s door. Cal was seated at his desk with a morning mug of coffee in his hand.

“I need to talk to you,” Angus said as he strode over to stand in front of Cal’s desk. He splayed both of his hands on the desk, leaned in, and looked down his nose at him.

Cal set his mug down, folded the morning’s newspaper, and set it aside. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been robbed.”

“Someone break-in?”

“No, that cleaning lady, Suzanne hired, has stolen a ring, several pairs of cufflinks, and some cash.”

“When was this?” Cal asked. He picked up a pen and slid a notepad in front of him.

“The other day.”

“Why are you just now coming in here to report it?”

“I didn’t notice it missing until last night. Now, she’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“That cleaning lady, that’s who.”

“What’s her name?”

“Lupe something-or-other. Suzanne handles all that.” He straightened and waved a hand in the air.

“Lupe? Hispanic?”

“She’s Mexican.”

“Do you have an address on her?”

“I told you that Suzanne handles all that shit.”

“Well.” Cal laid his pen down on the notepad. “You need to bring Suzanne in here, or get the information from her, and come back with it.”

“Some sheriff you are.” He turned on his heel and slammed the door on his way out. He clomped through the lobby. He sidestepped Raven when she came through the front doors. She went around him.

Angus turned and eyed her and the dirty duffle bag she carried.

21

Raven glanced back over her shoulder at Angus as she stepped over to a deputy’s desk. Angus eyed her a moment and then left. She set the duffle bag on the floor. She glanced around the room. Another deputy sat at a desk across the room. He wore a headset with a microphone. She assumed he was the dispatcher. The aroma of coffee and liquid paper was in the room.

The desk nameplate read Deputy Justin Ledet.

“Deputy Ledet?”

He had watched her from the moment she’d walked through the doors. In his right hand was a bottle of liquid paper and in the other hand he held the cap to it. “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak with Sheriff Rayburn, please. It’s important.”

He capped the liquid paper and set it down on his desk. He picked up the receiver on the desk phone, punched a button, and after a moment said, “Sheriff, there’s a …” He looked up at her.

“Raven Sawyer.”

“Raven Sawyer here to see you. Says it’s important.” He listened for a moment. “He wants to know what this is about.” He looked up at her.

“Tell him it might be evidence in Virgil Neal’s murder.”

Justin repeated what she’d said into the receiver. He listened a moment and then hung up. He looked up at Raven and said, “Down the hall, first door on the right. You can go right in.” He eyed the duffle bag. “You need any help with that?” He pushed his chair out from his desk.

She hoisted the duffle bag strap over her shoulder. “No thanks. I got it this far.” She walked across the lobby and down the hallway to the door he’d indicated. She took a deep breath, opened it, and stepped inside. He didn’t look up as he sat at his desk finger pecking at the keyboard on his computer.

As she covered the distance, she took in her surroundings. The FBI’s Ten Most Wanted poster was on the wall across the room from his desk. His office was well organized with tan filing cabinets. His desk was neat with the exception of a stack of manila folders and a folded newspaper. A near empty coffee mug with a Marine logo and USMC written on it was within arms reach of him. Open window blinds covered a large window behind his desk.

She slid the strap off of her shoulder and dropped it on top of his desk. Dust flew off the canvas bag and into the air.

His fingers stopped, and he eyed the bag. “What’s that?” He looked up at her and then his face registered surprise. “Raven? Raven Sawyer?” His bewilderment was more than evident.

“Yes.” She looked at her shoulder where the duffle bag strap had been and brushed the dirt off of her. “Not that we’ll ever see each other again after today, but at least while I’m here, please don’t call me Agnes.”

“You’ve had your name changed?” he asked, still perplexed.

“So that’s how you become sheriff.” She thinned her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Very perceptive. And all the while I’d thought that your daddy had gotten you elected.”

“My father had nothing to do with me getting elected.”

“As I remember, Angus had his hand in everything.”

He ran fingers through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “Did you come here to talk about the elections?” He eyed the duffle bag.

“I found this buried under the backside of the trailer when I went to retrieve the dog.” She motioned toward the bag. “It’s all yours to do with what you want.” She turned, walked toward the door, and reached for the doorknob.

“What’s in it?”

“Besides a few earthworms and dirt—money, lots of money. I didn’t count it. Don’t know if it’s real or not, but that’s for you to decide. I’ve done my civic duty. Goodbye, Sheriff.” She yanked open the door, hurried down the hallway, and into the lobby.

As she walked by the deputy’s desk, he asked, “Are you Raven Sawyer, the author?”

22

Raven had taken the dog to the veterinarian and managed to get there right before they had locked up for the day. Of the many questions asked, the one that puzzled her, “What’s the dog’s name?” As she had looked down at the dog’s inquisitive bright blue eyes and his white coat, she pondered the question a moment and then answered, “Gabriel.”