May Cooler Heads Prevail (18 page)

My body was hurting, I was wet and I was cold, but mostly I was angry and getting angrier by the minute. Angry that someone had so little regard for life that he would murder others, angry that all of us were now targets, angry that this
murderer wanted us dead. As far as I could see, we could put an end to this man’s madness by going back to that truck.

“Dixie, what if we drive back there to the hay truck and find out he isn’t hurt or dead? Wouldn’t we be giving him another chance at us?” Freedom asked.

“Okay, you have a good point. So, we won’t drive. We can walk back there. If we stick to the woods, he won’t see us, and we could get close enough to at least see who he is.”

“Well, that might work,” Freedom conceded. After opening the door on his side of the truck, he looked at me. “Wait here, and if I’m not back in thirty minutes, call Rudd on your cell phone and get out of here. You’ve got your cell phone with you, don’t you?”

I said yes and grabbed the phone out of my purse. Putting the cell phone in my jacket pocket instead of back into my purse, I quickly opened the door on my side and hopped out. “Oh no, you don’t. I’m going with you. And before you start telling me all the reasons I can’t go, let me point out that I can’t get any wetter than I already am, and this was my bright idea to begin with. If it makes you feel any better, this time I’ll be the one to duck if it comes down to a fight.”

Freedom threw up his hands in surrender, and we started off for the woods to make our way back to the hay truck.

Even though the rain had let up some, we still had to squint to see until we got into the woods. The trees not only provided some shelter from the rain, they made it easier for us to see where we were going. Neither of us spoke. We
concentrated on getting through the woods as quickly and as quietly as we could, looking over our shoulders at any menacing sound.

When we saw the truck up ahead, we crouched low and eased toward it. We were at the edge of the tree line, just a few yards from the hay truck, when my cell phone started ringing. It was so unexpected that for a moment I couldn’t think what was making that kind of noise. Pointing to my jacket, Freedom mouthed the word, “phone.” I reached into my pocket and grabbed the cell phone. Flipping it open, I whispered, “Hello?”

Estelle whispered back, “Hello, Dr. Tanner. Why are we whispering?”

“Oh, uh, no reason, really,” I said, trying to talk quietly, but not whisper. I turned my back to the hay truck and walked a few feet back into the woods. “Did you find out anything about Sweeney?”

“Yes, Dr. Sweeney is an oncologist. A very good one, from what I can find out. Dr. Tanner, are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Estelle. Thanks for the information. I have to go now.” I started to press the
END
button, but I heard Estelle almost yelling, “Wait, wait, Dr. Tanner, don’t hang up.”

“I’m still here, Estelle, what’s up?”

“Don’t you want Dr. Sweeney’s address and phone number? I even have his home number.” Estelle’s voice had a frantic edge to it. I hated not being able to tell her what was going on, but now was not the time to have a heart-to-heart talk.

“I really appreciate that, Estelle, but I don’t need that information right now. Keep it handy, though, I may need those numbers later. Gotta go, Estelle. Goodbye.” This time I pressed the
END
button. I owed Estelle a nice, expensive steak dinner, along with a well-edited explanation. Right now, there were other things going on. I powered off my cell phone so that I couldn’t get any more calls and went back to where Freedom was standing at the edge of the tree line.

In a low voice Freedom asked, “I take it that was your secretary and you got some information on Dr. Sweeney?”

I told him that Dr. Sweeney was a highly respected oncologist. And if Aaron Scott went to see Sweeney and then his lawyer, more than likely he had risked coming back to Kenna Springs because he knew he was dying.

Frowning, Freedom picked up a small rock and threw it back into the woods. “That makes all this even worse! Aaron just wanted to spend whatever time he had left with Connie. Right now I’d really like the opportunity to stomp the guy that murdered him. I’d like to wring his evil little neck.”

Freedom picked up another rock and threw it as hard as he could then took a deep breath and let it out. After a moment he ducked his head slightly. “Sorry. Got a little carried away.”

I put my arm through his. Seeing his anger helped me put my own anger and frustration in a better perspective. “I know how you feel, Freedom. I’ve had those feelings also, but we need to figure out who killed Aaron and then let the
law take its course. Getting even isn’t up to us. We’ve already gone too far taking the law into our own hands as it is. All this makes me feel like we’re between that age-old rock and a hard place.”

Taking another deep breath, Freedom said, “You’re right. I know you are.” He put his hand over the one I had through his arm then nodded his head toward the hay truck. “Guess we’d better put our frustration aside and get back to the problem we have staring us in the face. While you were on your cell phone, I snuck a little closer. No one’s inside, Dixie. Whoever was driving that truck must not have been hurt too badly, since he was able to take off before we got here. It’d be impossible to catch him by foot, and by the time we got back to the truck, he’d be long gone.”

Freedom and I walked up to the truck in the misting rain. It looked like there was a pretty good dent on the driver’s side where it was butted up against a tree, but the passenger door was wide open. No one was inside.

To say I was disappointed did not adequately describe how I felt at that moment. I stood there shivering from the wet and cold. My muscles were aching from being thrown around in the bed of Freedom’s truck. The area just below my eye throbbed, and for the first time I noticed a stinging feeling on my cheekbone—probably a scrape or bruise from landing on my face. But somehow all of that seemed like the least of my problems. I had counted on the murderer still being in that hay truck, counted on this whole thing being
over and done with. I expressed how I felt in the only way I knew how. I cried.

Freedom held me for as long as it took for me to stop crying. When I calmed down, he suggested that we take a look inside the truck, just in case whoever was driving it left something behind that would identify him.

That idea improved my attitude a notch and left me with some hope. I went to the passenger side and started rummaging through the glove compartment.

Pulling out the truck registration, I motioned for Freedom to come closer. “Look! The truck is registered to a Micah Bass. I know him. He and Uncle Rudd are good buddies. Micah owns a fairly good-sized farm outside Brogan’s Ferry. It’s a sure bet that Micah wasn’t driving this truck, so whoever was driving it must have stolen it. Which doesn’t help us a bit.”

While Freedom was looking at the registration paper, an idea began to form in my mind. I thought I saw a way to salvage this mess. “You know, Freedom, that means that whoever stole the truck has to go back to Micah’s property to get his own car. If we go back to your truck and head back to Brogan’s Ferry, maybe we could pass him and recognize who it is. What do you think?”

Freedom shook his head. “I think it would be a real good idea, except that I’m about out of gas. I don’t even know if I have enough to get us back to Kenna Springs, which is now closer than Brogan’s Ferry. But even if I had the gas, what’s
to stop him from seeing us and trying to run us off the road all over again?”

Disappointed, I admitted that Freedom was right.

Knowing that Micah Bass would report the hay truck stolen, Freedom took a handkerchief out of his back pocket and insisted we wipe off anything we had touched. Then we headed on back to his truck.

The rain had stopped. All that was left was a cold breeze. I started shivering and chattering so much in my wet clothes that I thought there was a good possibility I wouldn’t need to ride back to Kenna Springs in Freedom’s truck, I could just shimmy my way home.

All the way to Kenna Springs, I watched the rearview mirror on my side, hoping to see a car I recognized. I didn’t see any.

After Freedom parked in the alleyway, we got out of the truck wet, cold, and depressed, and made our way to the back door of the flower shop.

Aunt Nissa was in the workshop with an armload of red and white carnations when I walked through the door.

“Oh, mercy me, Dixie, what happened to your beautiful face?” Aunt Nissa dropped the flowers all over the floor, stepping on some of them as she made her way over to me. “Oh, honey, something awful must have happened. But don’t you worry, you’re with us now.” Looking at Freedom, she said, “Are you all right?”

Before he could answer, I said, “Yeah, he’s fine. He ducked.”

“What?” Aunt Nissa said, looking confused.

Freedom grinned. “It’s a long story, Nissa. Are Rudd and Connie around?”

Aunt Connie came into the workshop from the showroom. Slowly walking up to me, she took her time looking at the shiner that was forming around my eye. “Must have been a doozy of a fight! Did you win?”

“Connie Tanner! Dixie’s hurt,” Aunt Nissa said, shocked. “She needs sympathy right now.” Then looking at my wet clothes, she added, “And a hot bath.”

Aunt Nissa took charge. Turning to Aunt Connie, and in a no-back-talk-will-be-tolerated tone of voice, she ordered, “Close up shop, Connie. We don’t need to deal with any customers right now.” Without a word, Aunt Connie headed for the front of the shop.

She turned toward us and using the same tone of voice, ordered, “You two go on upstairs, get out of those wet clothes, and for goodness’ sake take a hot shower and warm up. Rudd hasn’t come back yet, but he’ll be here soon. Then we’ll talk things over.”

Aunt Connie yelled from the front, “But I want to know now how Dixie got that shiner! I don’t want to wait until Rudd gets back.”

Aunt Nissa ignored her and concentrated on the task at hand. “Connie and I will be upstairs as soon as we can. Freedom, you come on over to Connie’s apartment when you get changed and showered.” Then giving each of us a
gentle shove in the direction of the back door, she told us, “Go on now! Both of you get on upstairs.”

We went.

Warmth hit me as I walked into Aunt Connie’s apartment. It felt good. Once in the little bedroom, I quickly shed my wet clothes and wrapped myself in the old well-worn terrycloth robe I had brought with me. It felt like the best thing I’d ever had next to my skin. I took my clothes and put them in Aunt Connie’s washer and headed for the shower.

The hot water loosened my tight, sore muscles. I stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out. Bundled up in my robe, I went back to the guest room and put on sweats and tennis shoes. While I was dressing, I could hear everyone gathering and talking together in the kitchen. They were getting ready for lunch. I closed my eyes and stood still for a minute, listening to dishes clanking, the refrigerator door opening and closing at intervals, and the sounds of their voices. They were good sounds, sounds of family and friends. I thought of past family reunions, Christmas and Thanksgiving gatherings. Sometimes life is good, and sometimes it is not. Considering we were risking our lives to catch a killer, this was one of those “not” times. Before I joined Freedom and my family in the kitchen, I couldn’t help whispering a prayer of thanksgiving for each one of them.

“What’s for lunch?” I asked as I joined the fray.

Aunt Nissa didn’t waste any time hugging me. “Feel better, honey?”

“A little,” I admitted.

Uncle Rudd, Aunt Connie, and even Freedom, who apparently showered faster than I did, either patted me tenderly on the back or hugged me. We might be a bunch of eccentrics, but we’re a loving bunch of eccentrics.

“We’re just having sandwiches and chips,” Aunt Nissa said, taking my arm and leading me over to the kitchen table. Pulling out a chair, she motioned for me to sit down then grabbed a small package of frozen hamburger and handed it to me. “Here, I took this out of Connie’s freezer for you. Hold this on your eye for a while, dear.”

Obedient, but leery, I put the package to my eye. “Frozen hamburger? In the movies don’t they use a piece of raw steak?”

Aunt Nissa shrugged apologetically. “It’s all Connie had.”

After Uncle Rudd asked the blessing, Aunt Nissa passed around the plate of ham-and-cheese sandwiches, followed by a bowl of chips. Aunt Connie poured iced tea into pink, blue, and green metal glasses and set them at each place, informing us that was all she had, like it or not.

Piling three sandwiches on his plate, Uncle Rudd said, “Freedom’s been telling us what all happened this morning, Dixie-gal. I sure am sorry you two got into all that trouble.”

“Me, too, but we’re all in one piece and that’s the important thing,” I told him firmly, wanting to put Chad Gunther, followed by the ride of my life, far behind me. “What did you think about Doctor Sweeney turning out
to be an oncologist?”

“Ah, I knew I forgot something when I was telling them what happened,” Freedom said.

“If Sweeney is an oncologist, then Aaron was dying of cancer,” Aunt Connie sighed.

“Sure looks like that might be the case, Little Sis.” Uncle Rudd nodded.

Aunt Connie shoved her plate to one side. “I don’t think I have much of an appetite right now.”

“I don’t blame you one bit,” Aunt Nissa told her.

For a while there was an awkward silence at the table. We sat there, feeling terrible for Aunt Connie. Somebody needed to say something. Change the subject. So I did. “Did you find out anything today, Uncle Rudd?”

Uncle Rudd finished swallowing. “Not much, not much at all.” He shook his head. “It’s getting downright discouraging. I talked to most everyone, except Latham and Truman. None of the ones I talked to remembered much of anything, except for the fact that Aaron wouldn’t set foot on Latham’s boat.”

My inner radar went to work. “You didn’t talk to Truman? Where was he?”

“Don’t know, Dixie-gal. I went by his office and his house. He wasn’t at either place.” Uncle Rudd cocked his head and gently shook his finger at me. “I know what you’re athinkin’. Just remember, I didn’t get ahold of Latham Sheffield, either.”