Rogues & Rascals in Goose Pimple Junction (Goose Pimple Junction Mysteries Book 4) (28 page)

“Can we return to the point here, people?” Tess clapped her hands. “Who else has a horror story to tell?”

Eva Crump, the youngest of the group at thirty-nine, spoke up. “I got screwed and realized it the second the divorce was final. I went to the judge to complain, and he made me feel about this big.” She gestured with her thumb an inch from her forefinger. “He said he wouldn’t allow me to waste any more of the court’s time and threw out my complaint.”

“Just as I suspected,” Jack murmured.

Snooky said, “Dee Dee told me not to go around talking about the settlement. She said there was a privacy clause in the contract and I could get sued if I talked.”

“She told me that, too. The witch,” Lorena shouted. “That’s how she was able to keep all this under wraps.”

“Oh my gosh.” Tess had a startled look on her face.

“What?” everyone said in unison.

“I just realized. We have two lawyers in town, right?” Heads nodded. “I’ll bet she and Louis were in on it together. They had to be.”

Jack rubbed his chin. “Maybe Louis convinced his clients to pay a little more to ensure they got a little more.”

Caledonia added, “And the payment went three ways: Dee Dee, Louis, and the judge.”

“Pretty nice setup if you ask me,” Jack said.

“Pretty low-down, underhanded, and rotten if you ask me,” Tess said.

“So what are we gonna do?” Snooky, Eva, and Sara lamented.

“I’m going to write up every one of these stories.” Jack swept his forefinger across the room. “Then we’re going to make an appointment with someone at the state bar association.”

Caledonia cut in. “I’ll turn over everything we’ve found. And then we’ll go to the
Goose Pimple Gazette
. I won’t use your real names. We’ll just say we have anonymous sources.”

“We’ll still have to be careful about accusing anyone,” Jack said. “We don’t want to get sued for libel
or
slander.”

“Oh, we’ll be careful,” Caledonia agreed. “The facts are salacious enough. They’ll tell the story. The reader can surmise the rest of it for themselves.”

A smile spread over Caledonia’s face. “So, if the state bar doesn’t put them out of business, the newspaper story will. I like it.”

Jack nodded. “When we’re done, nobody’s going to want to have anything to do with those two greedy goobers.”

Mama always said . . . Always wear clean underwear in case you get in an accident.

A
week and a day after the meeting at her house, Caledonia was on her way with Pickle and Peanut to the Founder’s Day celebration in the middle of town. The second Sunday of December had been set aside for the town’s Founder’s Day celebration for as long as she could remember.

White bulbs clung to every branch of every tree in the town green. A fat Christmas tree, covered in strings of large red, green, blue, white, and yellow bulbs, stood in the center of the gazebo, which was lit with strings of tiny white lights. It looked like a winter wonderland; all that was missing was the snow.

Christmas carols blared from the loudspeakers, and a group dressed as old-time carolers, complete with long skirts, bonnets and muffs, top hats and tails, stood by the gazebo singing along.

The boys wanted to go to the Hula-Hoop contest, and Caledonia wanted to go to the cakewalk, so they were parting ways for a short while. She said goodbye to them and stepped off the curb. Halfway across the street, Louis T. Howe called her name. As she turned to see what he wanted, a police cruiser screeched around the corner and barreled toward her. She was like a deer in headlights—frozen on the spot in the center of Main Street.

Suddenly, she was pushed from behind, emitting a loud “Oomph,” as she was propelled off the street. The cruiser sped past, missing them by inches.

Caledonia landed halfway on the grass and halfway on the sidewalk. A body was lying on top of her. It was several seconds before it moved and she was able to see that it was Louis. She sat up, stunned. The celebration had grown eerily quiet except for the music playing over the loudspeaker. All eyes were on Caledonia and Louis as they began to get their wits about them. It felt strange to be so scared while in the midst of such beauty and merriment.

Pickle and Peanut reached her first. “Mama, are you okay? Gosh a’mighty, you were almost killed.”

Caledonia shook off the fear and felt up and down her son’s arms and legs, irrationally looking for injuries. “Are my babies all right? Does anything hurt?”

“We’re okay, Mama.” Peanut held on to her and rested his cheek on the back of her neck.

“You’re the one who was nearly run over like a dog. Are
you
hurt?” Pickle hugged the other side of his mother. She held onto both of them and thanked God for keeping them safe.

Johnny came running up, asking a million questions in rapid-fire succession. “Caledonia, what in the world? Are you two all right? Did anyone see who was behind the wheel? I’ll tell you what. I’ll have their badge. Did you—”

“Chief, I know jaywalking is against the law, but a simple citation might be the better way to go rather than running a body over.” Caledonia smoothed her long, blonde hair out of her face with shaking hands, offering an uneasy smile.

There was a crowd gathered around them now, and Tess and Louetta pushed through. Tess went to Caledonia, and Louetta stood next to Louis. “Louis P. Howe, you all right? Man alive, I’ve never seen anything like that in all my born days. You’re a hero. You know that?”

Tess rubbed Caledonia’s back, encouraging her to sit still until paramedics came.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Caledonia kept repeating.

Johnny surmised, “Your coat probably absorbed most of the impact of the fall, Caledonia.” He added wryly, “And I guess you absorbed most of the fall for Louis.”

It was a December day just past dusk with the temperature in the high thirties. Everyone had on coats and gloves. Pickle had on a heavy gray hoodie with the words “
I’M KIND OF A BIG DILL
,” accompanied by a picture of a dill pickle. Caledonia had on a puffy down-filled jacket. Louis tore his pants, but just as Johnny surmised, Caledonia had broken the impact on his upper body.

Johnny squatted next to Caledonia. “But I still want to have you both checked out. Sit tight. Paramedics are on the way.” He began motioning to the crowd to disperse. “Come on, folks. Nothing to see here. Everything’s fine. Go back to the frivolity and whatnot. G’won.”

Officers Duke, Witherspoon, and Beanblossom rushed up, and Velveeta pulled the chief aside.

“Chief, that was my car,” Velveeta said into his ear.

“Whaaaat?” Johnny pulled back. “You tried to run down Caledonia?”

“No, sir. I’m trying to tell you that my car was
stolen
. I had it over yonder by the bandstand. I stupidly left the keys in the ignition because I was gonna be moving it shortly, and well . . . I thought this was a safe community—”

“It darn well
is
a safe community, Officer. I don’t want to hear any talk otherwise. I suggest you get out there and find your vehicle.” He turned to the other two officers. “Spread out and see if anyone saw anything. I want to know who was behind that wheel.”

The officers nodded and began to follow orders.

Johnny hollered after them, “Find that car! If they’re out joyriding, no telling who could get hurt.”

Nosmo King Brown had to chirp the siren several times as he inched through the crowd on Main Street. He pulled up in the ambulance and began tending to Caledonia, who was still sitting on the sidewalk. Peanut was crying, so he assumed the boy was hurt too, but he was quickly set straight.

A short time later, Caledonia and Louis had been thoroughly examined and were pronounced healthy, except for scratches, bruises, and bumps. Caledonia stood shakily, and hopped down from the rear of the ambulance, trying to forget the memory of that car headed straight for her.

She searched the crowd and spotted who she was looking for. On unsteady legs, she toddled up to Louis, who was talking to a reporter. She inwardly rolled her eyes, guessing how he had played the hero. Then she mentally slapped herself. He
was
a hero
.

“Can I talk with you for a minute?” She pulled him aside, declining to comment to the reporter. “I just want to thank you for what you did. I know I’m not your favorite person right now, so I appreciate you not letting that maniac turn me into roadkill.”

“Mrs. Culpepper,” Louis began in his condescending and superior tone, “I could hardly stand by and watch you get plowed down, now could I?”

She gave a wan smile.

He continued. “But I think you might make certain . . .” he searched for a word “. . .
concessions
, in light of what has transpired.” He stared down at her, a smug expression on his face.

She still felt peaked, and his remark only made her feel worse. She cleared her throat. “You mean you want me to recant my statement and not testify to what I saw Jimmy Dean do at the school?”

“I’m just saying you could do me a favor in repayment for my saving your life.”

She looked around to see who was listening. Louetta and Tess stood ten feet away watching them. Louetta was frowning, and Tess raised her eyebrows as if to ask Caledonia if she were okay. Caledonia nodded.

Louis’s secretary approached them. “Hon, are you all right?” The woman’s accent made it sound like she said “aw rot,” and Caledonia said another silent thank-you to God for not allowing her to be in a morgue rotting away. She shook off the thought and clasped the woman’s hand.

“I’m fine, Melba toast, thanks to your boss.” Caledonia held out her arm aimed in Louis’s direction, and she felt like a game show host showing off the day’s prizes. Except Louis seemed to be the booby prize.

“I’m fine too,” Louis grumped.

“You don’t have to get all snippety, Louis. I was asking about you too,” Melba shot back.

“Thanks for asking.” Caledonia squeezed her friend’s hand, and the woman walked on.

Caledonia turned back to Louis. Her eyes bore into his. She took a deep breath.

“Mr. Howe, as a matter of fact, I
am
going to do you a favor.”

Louis’s heavy-lidded eyes slightly bugged. His face showed relief and hope.

“Just not the favor you’d like at this moment.”