May Cooler Heads Prevail (4 page)

It was more than Aunt Connie could bear. She put her hands to her face and began to cry. Aunt Nissa produced a box of tissues, and as Aunt Connie wept, Aunt Nissa steadily pulled one tissue after another out of the box and handed them to her. I put my arm around her, and we let her cry it out.

Finally Aunt Connie blew her nose, and slowly shaking her head, spoke directly to Uncle Rudd. “The next thing
I remember is being in the car with Nissa. I must’ve been plumb out of my head or something.”

I gave Aunt Connie a reassuring squeeze and told her that sometimes shock and grief can make us forget parts of things that happen to us. It’s the mind’s way of protecting us from being overwhelmed.

She looked up at me. “You think that’s it, Dixie, you really think that’s what’s wrong?”

“Yes, I do, and you don’t have to try and remember right now.” I shot my uncle a warning look, just in case he had other ideas. “With time, and when you’re able to deal with it, then it will all come back to you. Don’t try to force it.”

Blowing her nose once more, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Rudd. Let’s hope Dixie is right and I will remember. But right now there’s nothing else I can tell you.”

Defeated, Uncle Rudd handed her another tissue. “That’s all right, Baby Sister, you did just fine. At least we know more than we did last night. For one thing you remembered the phone call from him.” Suddenly Uncle Rudd slammed his hand down on the table. “But it sure would have been nice if before he died that piece of pestilence would’ve explained that little disappearing act he did just before the wedding.”

This outburst only made Aunt Connie cry all the harder. With one hand Aunt Nissa handed Aunt Connie yet another tissue, and with the other she smacked Uncle Rudd on the back of the head, just to let him know what an insensitive brute he was.

Aunt Connie sputtered in between sobs. “Don’t talk about him like that, Rudd. I’d like to know why he left, too. But isn’t it more important right now that we find out who killed him and why?”

“I’m sorry, Little Sis, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Uncle Rudd glanced over at Aunt Nissa as if to make sure she kept her hands to herself. “I guess it was pretty stupid of me to say it like that. It’s just that I think it might be possible that his running away before the wedding is somehow, someway connected to him being murdered.”

“How do you figure that, dear?” Aunt Nissa asked.

“I admit I never really liked old Aaron, but he did show a healthy spark of good sense when he started courtin’ Connie. And I have to admit that he always seemed downright crazy in love with her. So I was just as surprised as anybody when he didn’t show up for the wedding. I never figured him for the running kind. Now, I’m thinking something pretty important scared him and made him run. If that’s the case, I don’t know what made him think it was safe for him to come back into town after all these years. Whatever his reason, he figured wrong, and it got him killed.”

“You might have a good point, Rudd. I sure don’t know the answers to either one of those questions, but there’s one thing I need to know.” Aunt Connie leaned forward as far as she could. “I gotta know why you think I didn’t kill Aaron. How do you know that I didn’t just go plumb loony and stab him myself? Maybe I am the guilty one that murdered him.”

Uncle Rudd leaned forward and met her almost nose-to-nose. “First off, Connie Tanner, you ain’t got a murderin’ bone in your scrawny little body, no matter how crazy you get. You used to cry when our fishin’ worms died. And second,” Uncle Rudd picked up a piece of paper with his handwriting on it and held it up in front of Aunt Connie’s face, “you said so last night. I got it all right here. I wrote down everything you said. Most of it I can’t make heads or tails out of, but one thing you kept saying over and over was, and I quote, ‘The boogeyman came out of the night and killed my Aaron, the boogeyman covered my Aaron in blood.’ Don’t you see, Little Sis, you ain’t talking ‘bout yourself. Someone else did the killin’.”

Aunt Connie let out a sigh of relief and sat back in her chair. “In my heart I didn’t think I could do such a horrible thing. But since I can’t remember, it’s a comfort to hear you say I didn’t.”

“Now that we’re clear on that point,” Uncle Rudd nodded, pushing the piece of paper he was holding toward me, “we got to find out who did do it. That’s all the stuff Connie said last night. Take a look at it, Dixie-gal, and see if you can make anything of it.”

All three of them were silent as I took the paper and looked at it. Except for the part about Aaron being covered in blood, it really was just a jumble of nonsensical words. I kept looking at the paper because it gave me time to think.

If this letter-size piece of paper was all we had to go on to
find a killer, we were in a lot of trouble. I had no idea what the sentence for obstructing justice might be, but I’m quite certain that hiding a dead body would constitute more than parole and a hefty fine. So, for the time being, I still clung to the notion that the sheriff should handle this. Besides, there was one other little problem concerning the body of Aaron Scott that I had yet to hear anybody address.

Deciding to meet the problem head-on and give reason another shot, I looked at Uncle Rudd. “These are words of grief and trauma. I don’t know that we can decipher them as quickly as you might have hoped. Considering that time is a factor here, maybe we should have some sort of backup plan. I don’t know where you hid Aaron Scott’s body, but there are limits to…well…you know, limits to how long before his body does what all dead bodies do. And let’s face it, we may not have found the murderer by then.”

Although discussing dead bodies is not even close to my idea of good conversation, Aunt Nissa took the bait. “What did you have in mind as a backup plan, dear?”

Before I could take advantage of the opening she gave me, Uncle Rudd spoke up. “I got a pretty good idea what our Dixie-gal here has in mind for a backup plan.” He looked me in the eye and pointed his finger. “We will not let Sheriff Otis in on this until we get the goods on whoever killed Aaron Scott. And there is no need for you to go worryin’ over that body either. Let’s just say it’s hidden someplace where he’ll still look every bit as dead as the night he got himself murdered.”

I sat there trying very hard not to throw my hands up in the air in defeat. Although wildly curious as to where Uncle Rudd hid Aaron Scott’s body, I concentrated on what and how to say the right thing that would make my uncle listen to reason. But whatever embryonic thoughts I had forming in my head at the time were loudly interrupted by a knock at the front door.

Aunt Nissa had the foresight to lean back in her chair and pull a corner of her red gingham curtains up so she could see who was at the front door. “Uh-oh, it’s Sheriff Otis, and he’s in uniform.”

As soon as Aunt Connie heard who was at the front door, she threw her arms on the kitchen table with her wrists together as if she had on handcuffs and moaned, “He’s come to take me away, Rudd. He’s found my poor Aaron. There’s nothin’ you can do for me now. This here was my last meal, my last morsel of home-cooked food.”

No one ran to the door to let Otis in right away. Instead, Aunt Nissa jumped out of her chair and put a protective arm around Aunt Connie. Uncle Rudd was busy stuffing his file folder and legal pad into Aunt Nissa’s silverware drawer. And me? I was enjoying the feeling of relief that Sheriff Otis Beecher had come to the rescue.

“Oh, Rudd,” Aunt Nissa whispered, “you said no one would ever find Aaron’s body. How could Sheriff Otis stumble onto it so soon?”

“I don’t know what he’s here for, but I seriously doubt he
found that body,” Uncle Rudd answered. “Let’s not panic yet. Nissa, you take Connie and go on upstairs. And stay real quiet, ya hear?”

Both aunts, arm in arm, obediently headed upstairs.

Uncle Rudd yelled, “Just a minute” toward the front door then turned to me and said, “Dixie-gal, if you say anything to Otis about this murder, I’ll make sure that none of us ever speak to you again. Not only that, I’ll call your folks and tell them what happened. They won’t be one bit pleased that you brought Otis in on this. Remember, Tanners stick together.”

That threat might not work in some families, but it does in the Tanner clan. As much as my family exasperated me, I didn’t want to be ostracized. I wanted it to be my idea to move to a deserted island. I’d keep my mouth shut.

Uncle Rudd and Otis came into the kitchen laughing about something or other. I had personally never seen Otis at work in an official capacity, but I figured if he really knew what my uncle was up to, he wouldn’t find it at all amusing.

Still smiling, Uncle Rudd gave Otis a little slap on the back. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Dixie, you want some more coffee?”

I nodded, keeping my mouth shut as ordered.

Otis put his hat on the table and took the chair opposite me. “Hey, Dixie, nice to see you back in town. Still like living in the big city?”

“Oh yes,” I said. Short answers are almost as good as keeping one’s mouth shut.

“When did you get into town?”

“This morning.” I wasn’t too bad at this short answer stuff.

Otis moved around in his chair until he was sitting sideways and could stretch out. One of the most notable things about our sheriff is that he is six foot, five inches tall, and most of that is legs.

“Thanks.” Otis nodded as he took the cup from Uncle Rudd. He took a sip then reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small notepad and a pen. “Actually, I’m here on sort of an official visit. I need to ask Connie a few questions, and she wasn’t at her apartment, so I was wondering if she was out here?”

At that moment we all heard a disturbing thudding noise coming from upstairs. It abruptly stopped, but out of instinct, all three of us looked up.

Uncle Rudd didn’t acknowledge the interruption. “Well now, Otis, you came to the right place. Connie’s here with us. Has been since last night. But she’s not feeling a bit good. No sir, not a bit good. We thought she could use a little catering to and rest. How official is this visit?”

Otis shrugged. “I don’t guess it’s official enough to drag her out of her sickbed. Maybe you can help me out, Rudd. Considering how fast news travels around here, I’m assuming you know that Aaron Scott showed up in town yesterday?”

“Yeah, we heard.” Uncle Rudd’s thick eyebrows knitted together. “But it’s not likely we’d invite that little troll over
for a nice chat over Sunday dinner.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.” Otis chuckled. “My questions concern a phone call I got last night.”

Otis suddenly stopped talking and sat there slouching in his chair like the urge to contemplate the mysteries of the universe had just overtaken him. I wondered if he used that “suddenly silent” technique on any of the criminals he arrested. I know I felt compelled to fill in the silence with everything I knew. It was only the fear of being thrown out of the family that kept me quiet.

Uncle Rudd got up and poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back down. “Now, Otis, you gonna tell us about this phone call, or is this one of those things you ain’t allowed to talk about?”

“Guess it won’t hurt none to say.” Otis shrugged. “Around nine o’clock I received one of those anonymous phone calls, you know, where the person disguises their voice. The caller said that I should hurry down to the Red Carnations Flower Shop because there would likely be some fireworks between Connie and Aaron. Then the caller hung up. I don’t put a lot of stock in those kind of calls, but I thought maybe Connie might still be of a mind to throw a flowerpot or two at old Aaron, so I headed out to the flower shop.”

Otis stopped talking again. They must teach that stuff in some kind of sheriff’s seminar. The suspense was almost too much for me. I could feel the tic near my left eye start to thump. I had no idea what time Uncle Rudd found Aunt
Connie and Aaron, but Otis must have just missed them. Otherwise all of them would be in jail by now, and I would be scraping up bail money. It also hit me that whoever murdered Aaron had called Otis to try and frame Aunt Connie. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. For the first time since Uncle Rudd called, I began to entertain the idea that he was right about going after the killer ourselves. Of course, I have entertained bad ideas before.

Uncle Rudd shook his head slowly. “I reckon it was just some joker trying to cause a little trouble. But I can honestly say that Connie didn’t throw any flowerpots at Aaron. No, sir, somewhere between nine and nine thirty last night we were heading home with her. We must’ve just missed you.”

“Naw,” Otis drawled, “we missed each other by quite a bit, since I never made it to Connie’s place. I was on my way, when I came up on an accident. Old Dennis Reager had a row with his wife last night and was heading out to stay at his brother’s trailer until Rosa May cooled down. He forgot we put a stop sign up on Lincoln Street not too long ago. Truman Spencer was behind Ed Baringer at the stop sign, when Dennis smacked right into Truman’s new SUV, forcing Truman to smack into Baringer’s truck. No one was really hurt, unless you count the swollen lip old Truman got from Dennis throwing a punch at him.”

“Is that a fact?” Uncle Rudd grinned.

“Yeah, it was somethin’ all right.” Otis grinned back. “By the time I got there, Truman was fit to be tied. He started
pokin’ his finger on Dennis’s chest and threatening to sue him. Told Dennis he’d own that new tractor of his. ‘Course, you know Dennis, he’s more partial to farm machinery than he is to Rosa May, so he just up and let Spencer have it right in the kisser.”

Uncle Rudd chuckled. “You know as well as I do Truman has always had a big mouth.”

“Suppose so. Anyway, I didn’t get through settling them down and filling out all the paperwork till near eleven that night. I figured if there was any trouble between Connie and Aaron, I would’ve heard about it by then, so I just went on home.” Otis stood up and stretched. “Speaking of home, I’d better head on out of here. Martha’s got some kinfolk coming over for supper tonight, and I told her I’d stop by the grocery store and pick up some celery and hamburger meat.” He walked over and put his coffee cup in the sink. “Thanks for the coffee, Rudd. You’re probably right about that phone call. Someone was just hoping for a little fireworks to gossip about. By the way, what did happen when Connie and Aaron got together last night?”