Read Murder & Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction Online
Authors: Amy Metz
Pickle
turned and saw the man just a few feet away, drawing on a cigarette. He looked down at his t-shirt that said, “Obey Gravity—it’s the law!”
“
You and the law are real tight now, huh?”
“
I didn’t tell ‘em anything ‘bout you, sir. I did just as you told me to. I swear.” Pickle was wide-eyed and dry mouthed, but he managed to take a gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“
Yeah, I heard. That’s why I’m here. You can relax. I just dropped by to give you yer money.” He handed Pickle a wad of dollar bills.
Pickle
shook his head. “Uh . . . sir . . . if it’s all the same to you,
I think I’d rather not take that this time. It just don’t feel right. And
I need to resign from my employ with you, too.” Pickle swallowed hard again, and added, “If y . . . you don’t mmm . . . mind, that is.”
“
Sure thing, boy. I know I put you in a tight spot. But you came through for me. I guess we can part ways as friends now. Just remember what I tolt ya.” He pointed his finger in Pickle’s face. “Not a word to nobody ‘bout me, or you and old Tank Marshall will be pushin’ up
daisies side-by-side. Ya hear?”
“
Ye . . . yessir.” Pickle nodded his head vigorously, gulping once again. He then began to hiccup.
“
I’ll be watchin’ you, boy.” The man clasped a firm hand on Pickle’s shoulder and squeezed hard. “Don’t you forget that.” Aqua Velva man turned and disappeared around the side of the building.
* * *
Jack saw Officers Beanblossom and Duke inside the diner as he passed, and since he had thirty minutes to spare before picking up Tess for their dinner date, he decided to stop for a chat.
He
passed the old men at their usual seats at the counter, saying, “Afternoon, Clive, Earl, how are y’all today?”
“
If dumb was dirt, he'd cover ‘bout half an acre,” Clive said, pointing to Earl.
“
Ha!” snorted Earl, “An empty bucket makes the most racket.”
“
Aw, boys, tell ya what do,” Jack clapped Earl on the shoulder as he passed by, “have some of Junebug’s chocolate cream pie. It’ll sweeten ya both right up.”
“
We’s plenty sweet. What’s she got that will make him smart?” Clive hitched his thumb toward Earl.
The
men started arguing, and Jack started for the officers’ table. He saw Henry Clay at a table with a group of men, all wearing “Price For Governor” buttons. Jack waved and Henry Clay answered with a nod of the head.
“
Mind if I sit a spell?” he asked the officers, grabbing the back of a chair.
“
Sure thing, Jack. What’s up?” Skeeter asked.
“
Y’all were over at Tank Marshall’s the other day, weren’t ya?”
“
Yeah, we was there,” Hank Beanblossom said. He and Skeeter
exchanged looks.
“
I was just wonderin’—how’d y’all get past the dogs?”
“
The dogs?” Hank repeated.
“
Yeah, you know, Foghorn and Leghorn. They always, uh . . . enthusiastically greet visitors to Tank’s farm. Tank’s pretty much the only one they’ll mind. How’d you get past them to the house?”
“
Wull . . . they were locked up in the barn that mornin’,” Skeeter said.
“
Locked up?”
“
Yeah, that is kinda weird, now that ya mention it. I didn’t think he ever locked them dogs up.” Skeeter scratched his head. “Add that to the list of strange, Beano.”
“
What do y’all think? Do you buy the suicide theory?” Jack asked, lowering his voice.
“
Off the record?” Hank whispered.
“
Off the record,” Jack promised. The three men leaned into the
table to carry on the conversation without being overheard.
“
I didn’t buy it for a minute,” Hank said quietly. “John Ed’s the one who signed, sealed and delivered that verdict. Skeeter and I noticed some things at the scene. The coroner did, too.”
“
He’s gonna do an autopsy,” Skeeter interjected. “He says he can do an x-ray to determine the path of the bullet. Cool, huh? Then he’ll be able to determine the angle of the bullet, and know if it’s possible he could have shot himself. But I know it wasn’t a suicide. It looked like a set-up from the get-go. The gun was limp in his hand, and there wasn’t any blowback or blood. We’re waitin’ on a report to see if there was any gun powder residue on his hand.”
“
I’m glad to hear that, fellas. I don’t buy the suicide theory either. Say, you guys don’t like John Ed for the killer, do ya?”
“
Naw, ain’t no way it was him. Coroner said it happened around nine this mornin’ and the chief was at the station from eight o’clock on. The only time he left was when the three of us went to Tank’s. Naw,
I think he’s jest lazy, s’all. Dudn’t want the headache of a murder investigation jest fer the likes a Tank Marshall.”
“
Okay, boys. Thanks a bunch.”
“
But mum’s the word about this investigation, Jack. The chief don’t know anything about it. We’d like to keep it that way.”
Jack
made a motion like he was zipping his lips. He winked at the officers. “Keep me posted?”
“
Sure thing, Jack.”
* * *
After dinner at The Silly Goose, Jack helped Tess into his truck and then got in behind the wheel, eyeing the cake on her lap. “Good thing it wasn’t chocolate, or it would have melted sittin’ in the truck in this heat.”
“
True. I’m not sure how Lou’s going to react to our wanting to look at the trunk. I just thought a cake might sweeten the deal.”
“
That was nice of you.” He leaned over to kiss her.
‘I
think I’m falling in love with you’
ran like a never-ending loop in her brain as the kiss deepened. She broke away and looked at Jack.
“
I think I am, too.”
“
I think I know what you’re saying, but I want to hear it.” Jack was so close to her, their noses almost touched.
“
I told Nick I like you a lot. But it’s more than that, Jack.” She put her hand on his cheek. “I’m in love with you.”
“
Aw, Tess.” Jack kissed her lips, her cheek, her neck. “Do we have to go to Lou’s right now?”
She
giggled. “We’ll make it quick.”
* * *
After they’d eaten huge pieces of cake, Lou said, “Oooowwweeeee! I’m full as a tick! But y’all, I’m startin’ to worry there’s somethin’ wrong with me. First Martha Maye volunteers to work late for me, now y’all bring me cake. I mean, it sure was mighty nice and all, but ya know you’re welcome over here anytime—ya don’t have to bring food, you can just bring yerselves.” She looked from Jack to Tess, scrutinizing them. “There’s not some bad news I don’t know about, is ‘ere? I’m not dyin’ am I?”
Jack
laughed and said, “No, Lou, you’re not dying.”
“
But we do have something we want to discuss with you, Lou,”
Tess said.
“
Oh. Well in that case, Buttabean, you gwon up and get yer bath now, and let the adults talk a spell,” Lou told her granddaughter.
“
Oh, all right,” Butterbean whined, stomping out of the kitchen.
“I miss out on everything good.”
Once
Butterbean was gone, Lou asked, “Now what’s this somethin’ you want to discuss? It must be a lulu to require cake beforehand.” She nervously fingered the pearls around her neck as she looked at Jack and Tess.
“
Lou, do you remember that key I found back when I first started redecorating the house?”
Lou
swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“
Well, we believe it’s related to your father’s murder.”
Lou
hopped up and immediately began picking up plates to clear the table. Tess looked at Jack, and he gave her an encouraging nod. They stood up to help with the dishes, and Tess pressed on, talking while Lou washed the plates.
“
Lou, I know this is hard, but don’t you want to know who killed your father?”
She
fiddled with the water to get the right temperature. “The report from the detective agency my mother hired said we didn’t want to know.”
Tess
handed her a plate. “What do you mean?”
“
Just what I said. After Daddy was murdered, my mama hired The Pinkerton Agency to investigate. She didn’t think the police were doin' enough on their own. After a few weeks of investigatin’, the PI came over't the house and said, ‘You do not want to know.’ That was his exact words, accordin’ to Mama. I don’t know what else was said, I just know that it was enough to make Mama drop it, and never talk about it again.” She handed Tess a plate to dry and began washing another one.
“
You mean she never talked about your father after that?” Tess dried the plate and handed it to Jack, who was stacking them on the
table.
“
Oh, law no, we talked about Daddy. But only the good times. We never discussed that horrible December night ever again.”
“
How awful. You
must
have questions.”
“
I believe what my mama believed: some things are just better left unknown. I’m at peace with that. Why do ya wont to go stirrin’ it up now for?”
“
Because someone is going to an awful lot of trouble to keep us from finding out the truth,” Tess said. “And when somebody tells me
I should leave well enough alone, it just makes me want to dig that much deeper. I want to know why someone’s broken into my house, and called with threatening messages, and attacked us on the street. And something tells me it wasn’t Tank Marshall.”
“
Well, whoever it is can’t be the killer! Anyone old enough to kill Daddy way back then would surely be dead hisself by now.”
“
Which makes it all the more peculiar that someone would care.
I think we need to get to the bottom of this,” Tess said gently to Lou.
“
H’ire y’all gonna do that?” She gave Tess another dish to dry.
“
We’re going to start by talking to you and seeing what you know that might fill in some blanks.”
“
Child, I don’t know nothin’. I was just knee high to a grasshopper myself at the time. I remember feelings and emotions of that turrible time, but that’s all I remember.”
“
You may know more than you think,” Jack told her.
“
Let’s start with what we’re sure about,” Tess suggested. “We know that your father was a witness to a bank robbery three years before his death, and that could be one motive for killing him. Brick Lynch was tried, but acquitted. What about Rod Pierce?”
“
He spent some years in jail. After that, I don’t know what became of him.”
“
Why do you think the detective didn’t want you to ask questions?” Tess asked.
“
I s’pose it was on account of some people thinkin’ Daddy committed suicide; even the insurance comp'ny thought so. They denied the double indemnity claim, and ruled it a suicide. And then there were some people who thought Daddy was in on the robbery. They thought he knew too much. And then still others thought the killer possibly was my uncle.” Lou scrubbed a dish so hard Tess wondered if the paint would come off. Forcefully she said, “I will never believe it was suicide. My daddy wouldn’t do that to us. And I will never believe that he stole one red nickel from that bank.”
“
Lou, did you just say the killer could have been your uncle?”
Lou
nodded. She took the dry dishes and put them in the cabinet.
“
Why would he kill his brother?” Tess asked.
Lou
took a deep breath and let it out. “Because he loved my
mama and wanted her for hisself. So don’tcha see? Murder, suicide, friend, foe, his own brother . . . “ her voice got very soft, then she seemed to strengthen. “Whoever . . . whatever . . . it doesn’t matter. My daddy’s still dead. And the killer is surely dead by now, too. What does it matter anymore?” She dried her hands with a dish towel.
“
It matters because it was your father. And you deserve to know who took him away from you.
He
deserves for somebody to find the truth. Can’t you think of anything that might help us figure this out?”
“
All right,” she said, leading them to the den to continue their
conversation. “The one thing I remember my mama sayin’ to me was that on the night Daddy died, he had tried to tell her somethin’, but he never had a chance to tell her, and she regretted that for all her days.” She smoothed the wrinkles in her hot pink skirt.