Murder & Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction (10 page)

As
she crawled into bed, she heard a dog barking outside, and a faint creak that sounded like her back door when it opened and closed. Her hand reacted on its own, reaching under the bed for the Louisville
Slugger she’d stashed underneath for protection. She sat straight up and listened hard. Nothing.

She
swung her feet to the floor and stopped to listen again. Still nothing. Gripping the bat until her knuckles were white, she walked out her bedroom door and stood at the top of the steps for several minutes, straining to hear the slightest sound. The house was silent.

She
went back to bed but kept the bat in her hand. She lay there, looking at the shadows in the room, worrying and wondering.

The
house was too quiet. She grabbed the remote to the small television that was housed in the top part of her armoire. With one click David Letterman came on. She turned over on her stomach, bat still in hand, and listened to Dave while she drifted off.

She
was sound asleep within minutes, and her hand relaxed, dropping the bat with a clunk to the floor. She never heard the clunk or the creaking of the floorboards.

preshade
: verb \ pree-sheyt\  appreciate

I don’t
‘preshade your innuendoes!

[  1932  ]

The
kitchen smelled like bacon and coffee.

“
I can’t believe my eyes,” John Hobb said to his wife, as he read the morning newspaper. “You won’t believe this.
I
can’t believe this! What’s wrong with that baboon?” John slapped his hand down hard on the
table.

“
What’s wrong, John?” Maye frowned at him while pouring two cups of coffee.

“
They really are getting out. I thought it was only talk. Even though they were sentenced to twenty years, after only serving
three months
, they’re getting out,” he said in disbelief. “Says here they were granted full and free pardons by Governor Shelby who, quote, ‘concluded they were the victims of mistaken identity’ end of quote.”

“
I can't believe they never gave up the name of the third man. He's out there, scot-free,” Maye said, as she whipped together eggs and milk, preparing to make scrambled eggs.

“
Nope. Never did. Now there's three of them who are out free and clear. I didn’t tell you yet, but I hear tell there may even be a fourth man involved.”

“
Why didn’t you tell me?” Maye asked, propping her hands on her hips.

“
Because it may only be the rumor mill workin’ overtime.”

“
But you only saw three men in the bank that day.” Steam billowed and the skillet sizzled as she poured the egg mixture in.

“
Yes, but some people are saying maybe there was a fourth man waiting in the getaway car, or maybe someone helped them get the guns, or . . . well, you know how people talk. Probably nothing to it. But it doesn’t matter. They’re all getting off scot-free! It just isn’t right.”

* * *

When Brick Lynch got home from his three-month stint in prison he was bitter and full of resentment. His wife, Maisey, was sympathetic.

“
That John Hobb’s the kind a man who thinks the sun come up just ta hear ‘im crow,” Maisey grumbled.

“Maisey, if it weren’t for that do-gooder, I wouldna had to miss
outta three months a my life,” he whined. “Not to mention having to live in that rat hole.”

“
I know, Brick darlin’, but you’re home now, try to put all that
unpleasantness behind you.”

“
I cain’t. He shoulda kept his cotton-pickin’ blabbermouth shut. Me and Roddy are gonna have ta teach him a lesson in civility.” He stared coldly out at the trees rustling in the slight breeze.

* * *

The next day Rod Pierce and Brick Lynch met with a third man at Humdinger’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar on the outskirts of town. The man was wearing a fine suit, a silk tie, and wingtip shoes. He stuck out like a sore thumb. They sat down at a dark table at the back of the room, out of earshot of others.

“
Thanks for takin’ care 'a the governor for us. Three months in that joint
seemed
like twenty years,” Lynch said.

“
Keep it down! You want somebody to hear?” Sore Thumb asked.

Lynch
snorted. “Ain’t nobody in here conscious enough ta hear.” He scanned the room. “Look at ol’ Slew Foot over thar. He’s three sheets to the wind.”

“
What’s Hobb know ‘bout the robbery?” Pierce asked the man,
taking out a pack of cigarettes.

“
Not sure yet. I think he suspects there was a fourth party involved, but he’s keepin’ things purty close to the vest.”

“
He ain’t said nuthin’ yet. What makes you think he will?” Pierce lit his cigarette and offered the pack to each man.

“
Cause he’s Danny Do-gooder, that’s why. The world oughtta give him a medal for bein’ so dad-burned good.” Lynch struck a match with his thumbnail and lit his cigarette. “Nominate him for sainthood or somethin’.”

“
Whatta ya wontta do about ‘im, Brick?” Pierce took a deep drag on his cigarette.

“
Pardon or no pardon, he’s still a rat. I wontta give ‘im my own brand a medal,” Brick said, eyes dark with hatred.

“
Just simmer down,” Sore Thumb said. “We can’t go off half-cocked. We have to bide our time. If we do anything now, it’ll be
obvious who did it. The man doesn’t have enemies. Except for you, Brick. Let some time go by. See what develops. He ain’t got nuthin’. Chances are, he’ll let it drop.”

“
Ain’t gonna change the fact that he squealed on me. You give ‘im more time, and he may squeal on you, too,” Lynch said, pointing his
finger at Sore Thumb.

[  June
2010  ]

Tess got out of bed, stepped on the Louisville Slugger that had slipped out of her hand the night before, kicked it back under her bed, and limped to the shower. When she finished dressing, she headed to the kitchen but stopped dead in her tracks two steps out in the hall.

Footprints.

She looked closer at the hardwood floor. The prints weren’t muddy, but looked as if whoever they belonged to had walked through something wet, making their shoes just damp enough to leave a faint imprint on the floor. Tess was sure they had not been there when she went to bed.

She
remembered leaving her own shoes by the back door the night before. And the footprints were obviously much bigger than her size seven feet. Heart pounding, she ran back to her bedroom where she pulled the bat from underneath her bed. Then she started back down the hall, ready to hit a homer if someone stepped into her strike zone. She tracked the shoes to the kitchen and back up the steps in the middle of the house. The prints led down the upstairs hall and into each bedroom.

Tess
peeked into each room but saw nothing out of place. In her mind she could hear Jack asking her to promise to call him or Chief Price if anything else ever happened. She grabbed her cell phone and took it outside, calling the police department and sitting down on the porch to wait for them.

Ten
minutes later, John Ed was standing in her den. “You mean that’s all the ev’dence you have?
Shoe prints
? Wudda you want me ta do? Put out an APB for ever’body in town who wears a size ten?”

“
Chief, someone’s been in my house! I can assure you I’m not
making this up.”

“
That ain’t somethin’ I can hang my hat on, missy.”

“
Why don’t you quit patronizin’ the lady and start tryin’ to figure out why somebody keeps breakin’ into her house, John Ed?” Jack’s voice came through the front screen door. He opened it and let himself in.

“
You ain’t got no dawg in this fight,” John Ed said, glaring at Jack. “Or do you?” He turned to Tess and then back to Jack with a suggestive expression.

“
One . . . “ Jack ticked off points on his fingers, “ . . . it’s my
business
because this lady’s a friend of mine. And two . . . “ Jack said exaggerating his southern accent, “I don’t ‘preshade your innuendoes!”

“
Aw, Jack, don’t go gittin’ yer knickers all in a bunch. She had a
hissy fit with a tail on it. I was only tryin’ to calm her down, that’s all.”

“
Well wouldn’t you have a
hissy fit
if someone kept breakin’ into
your
house?”

“
And just how did you know that’s what the call was for this
mornin’?” Chief Price asked, looking suspiciously at Jack.

“
You know you can’t keep anything quiet in this town, John Ed. Now quit arguin’ and take the woman seriously. What are you gonna do about this?”

Too
nervous to just stand around, and wanting something to do, Tess went into the kitchen to make some tea while the men continued
to argue. The thought that someone had been in her house while she was sleeping sent shivers down her spine, made her sick to her stomach, and she could feel the hair on her arms standing on end. The men
continued to argue in low voices, but she couldn’t hear what was said. She no longer cared. It was obvious the chief thought she was just a
hysterical female.

She
filled the teakettle with water and put it on the stove. She wasn’t hungry but thought maybe eating something would calm her roiling stomach. While waiting for the kettle to boil, she absent-mindedly grabbed a box of Banana Nut Cheerios out of the cabinet and stood over the sink, eating from the box.

“
Are you okay?” Jack stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, his legs crossed and one foot propped on a toe.

Tess
jumped and whirled around at the sound of his voice, spraying Cheerios across the room.

“
No thanks, I’ve had breakfast,” he laughed. “You a little bit on edge?”

She
let out a heavy sigh and sat the box on the counter with a thud. He bent down to help her pick up the cereal.

“
Tess, I think it’s safe to say that for whatever reason they keep comin’ back, they’re not gonna hurt you. If they’d wanted to do that, they would have done it last night.”

“
That’s a pleasant thought.” Tess was on her hands and knees, sweeping the Cheerios with her hands, and scooping them up to throw in the garbage. “But you’re probably right.” She wondered if he noticed her hands shaking.

He
stood, putting his hands on his hips. “Tess, don’t be offended by this question, but . . . do you . . . have any drugs in the house?”

“
What
? Jack, no, of course I don’t have any drugs in this house. How could you even think such a thing?”

“
I don’t. I just had to ask it. Drugs, firearms, and high-end loot. That’s usually what people are after when they break into a place. Since your high-end loot is still here, and I don’t peg you for the gun-totin’ type,” his eyes wandered to the Louisville Slugger baseball bat in the corner of the kitchen, “drugs are all that’s left.”

Tess
sat down at the table and put her head in her hands. “I think back to a little over a year ago, when I had a quiet, ordinary, mundane life. Then my world exploded. I thought moving here would let me get back on an even keel. Now I’m having to learn a new language, I have wallpaper stuck to the walls, and I have a stalker. So much for my good luck charm!”

“
Hold it! Hold it just one minute! Number one, I think you’re slightly exaggeratin’ on the foreign language thing. Number two, I’d
be happy to help you strip . . . the wallpaper.” She shot him a look. “Number three, I’m sure you don’t have a stalker, unless you want to count me. And number four, what good luck charm?”

For
the next few minutes Tess filled Jack in on what she had found and told him about her talk with Lou.

“
So it’s not a good luck charm.” Jack shrugged. “It’s just an interesting antiquity. Put it on your key ring and forget about it.”

“
And what about the repeated break-ins?” Tess asked. “This is really freaking me out.”

“
Well . . . I could stay over . . . “ Jack quickly changed course when she gave him yet another pointed look.

“
In that case, are you workin' today?”

“
Not until two o'clock, why?”