May Cooler Heads Prevail (15 page)

“Premeditated murder! Motive! I know what that means! It means they would fry my wrinkled old hide like a turkey in hot oil!” Aunt Connie dropped the will on the floor like it had suddenly turned into a live wire.

Throwing a protective arm around his sister, Uncle Rudd said, “It’s a good thing we’re here to protect you!”

“Yes, it is a good thing,” I agreed. “Because with Aunt Connie out of the way, what incentive would anyone else have to catch this killer?”

“Well, if that killer thinks we would stop hunting him down like the polecat he is just because Connie got the chair, then he doesn’t know we’re blood kin to Tenacious Tanner!” Uncle Rudd proclaimed.

Ever pragmatic, Aunt Connie planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, but I’d still be dead, you old goat!”

“Now, everyone just hold on for a minute,” Aunt Nissa interjected. “As it turned out, the killer didn’t get a chance to frame Connie. We got to her before Otis could. Thank the Lord for His mercy. But I may be able to answer the question about why Aaron came back.” Aunt Nissa held up a black leather appointment book. “Earlier when I looked through it, there wasn’t anything that I could see I thought would help. But I think that’s changed.”

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

A
unt Nissa started flipping through the pages of the appointment book. Coming to a stop, she said, “Here it is.” Holding the book out toward us, she pointed. “See, Aaron has a doctor’s appointment for ten o’clock in the morning.”

She flipped a few more pages. “Two weeks later, there’s another appointment with a Doctor Sweeney, and underneath, Aaron has written the word ‘specialist.’ From then on he has appointments with hospitals for a CT scan and some other tests, and he goes back to see this Doctor Sweeney a couple more times. He also has one more interesting appointment.” Aunt Nissa flipped over a few more pages, held the book outward, and again pointed to a date. “See, he has an appointment with his lawyer. I think Aaron was very ill. Maybe dying. He came back to Kenna Springs because he had nothing to lose.”

At first none of us said a word, we just stared at the words, “Lawyer, 3:00 p.m.,” scrawled in black ink.

Almost whispering the words, Aunt Connie said, “You
mean Aaron figured if he was dying he no longer had a reason to stay away from Kenna Springs?”

Aunt Nissa nodded. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“It makes a lot of sense,” Uncle Rudd said. “But we’d just be guessing at this point. I wish there was some way we could know for sure.”

“Uh, I might be able to get some information,” I volunteered. “I could call my secretary and ask her to look up this Doctor Sweeney and see what kind of specialist he is. That might tell us something.”

The moment those words were out of my mouth, I remembered that I had never called Estelle back to find out what happened with poor Mr. Woodbine. That was not going to sit well with Estelle. But at this point, she wasn’t going to be any madder tomorrow than she was already, and I was much too tired to deal with her tonight, so I hastily added, “I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

“That’s a dandy idea. But remember, you and Freedom are going over to Brogan’s Ferry tomorrow to see what you can find out about Dolly from Chad Gunther.” Uncle Rudd handed me a slip of paper. “I’ve got the address and directions written down for you.”

Aunt Nissa put a gentle hand on Uncle Rudd’s arm. “Speaking of tomorrow, it’s going to be a big day for all of us. I think we’d better get on home.”

Aunt Connie bent down and picked up the will. Carefully folding the pieces of paper, she sighed. “I don’t want to
deal with this right now. I guess I’ll put it somewhere for safekeeping before I go to bed.”

Before any of us could throw out a few suggestions on where that “safe” place should be, Aunt Connie walked over to her kitchenette, opened a cabinet, and retrieved a plastic food container. Grabbing a paper towel, she wrapped the will in it and carefully placed it in the plastic container. Snapping the lid shut, she put the container in the refrigerator.

Afraid that she might not know what she was doing, I asked, “The refrigerator? Why don’t you put it in the safe you keep your deposits in overnight?”

Blushing slightly, Aunt Connie shrugged. “The refrigerator is the safe I keep my deposits in overnight. Who’s gonna look in the refrigerator for valuables?”

She had a point. Aunt Connie has never kept much in the way of food in the refrigerator. Why not get as much use out of it as she could?

“I guess the fridge is about as safe as anywhere.” Aunt Nissa reached for her now empty picnic basket. “Why don’t Rudd and I get here early in the morning and cook breakfast for everyone?”

“There’s no need for you to do that,” Aunt Connie replied. “You’ve already been doing a lot of cooking. I have some of those toaster waffles in the freezer.”

Before Aunt Nissa could comment, Freedom cleared his throat. “Tell you what. I make a mean biscuit and sausage gravy. How about everyone meet over at my place for
breakfast, say about seven?”

Beaming first at Freedom then at me, matchmaking Aunt Nissa accepted on behalf of all of us, and it was settled.

After everyone left, Aunt Connie and I had a cup of hot tea together then took turns getting ready for bed in her elbow-room only bathroom.

Once in the guest bedroom, I cracked the window open a bit and crawled under the covers. As I lay there, I started going over the day’s events in my mind. As I drifted off, I had the feeling that there was something I had forgotten.

Just before dawn I woke up slow and easy, forgetting for a moment where I was and why. Then it all came rushing back, including what I was trying to remember last night.

Aunt Connie was already up and making tea. Sitting down at the kitchen table, I asked, “Aunt Connie, do you remember that Latham told us that Truman Spencer was the one who told him that Aaron Scott was in town?”

“And good mornin’ to you, too,” Aunt Connie mumbled. “You want some tea? I need some time to get my peepers open before you tell me anything real important.”

Deciding my observation could wait, I mumbled, “Yes, I would love some tea.”

For the next several minutes we sipped our tea in companionable silence.

Finally Aunt Connie lifted her arms, stretched them outward, and softly groaned, “Getting old sure isn’t the easiest thing a body has to do in this world. Nowadays, it
takes me awhile to get to sleep. When I do, I don’t sleep as sound as I used to. My back starts achin’, and my hip starts hurtin’, and by the time morning rolls around I’m stiff all over. Didn’t used to be that way.”

I didn’t comment. I could see by the look on her face that there was a point to this conversation. She was gathering her thoughts, sorting them out. When she was ready she would tell me the rest.

“Last night, I… “Aunt Connie sighed and started again. “Last night I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about all the stuff Aaron left me. I’m none too proud of it, I can tell you.”

I reached out and put my hand over her hand. “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of, Aunt Connie. You should be touched. You should be amazed that Aaron left that will. He still loved you. Of course it would be on your mind.”

Abruptly Aunt Connie got up from the table and poured herself another cup of steaming water. Grabbing a tea bag from the box on the counter, she stuck it in her cup and sat back down. “What I’m trying to tell you is that while I am touched and amazed, those weren’t the only emotions, the only thoughts, whirling around in my feeble brain last night.” She leaned forward. “I began to think about what I could do with all of Aaron’s money. I even snuck out of bed last night and checked Aaron’s bank account. I had myself spending that money on all sorts of stuff. Are you following me?”

I nodded, surprised not only at her thoughts, but her honesty.

“Good.” Aunt Connie leaned back in her chair. “I just made myself sick of myself, if you know what I mean. So I had a little Sunday-go-to-meetin’ talk with Jesus. I figured He would know what to do. After a while I knew what to do, too.”

Leaning forward again, Aunt Connie’s face beamed with excitement. “So, here’s what I propose. Once the killer is caught and things settle down some, I would like to ask your folks to run the marina. They could live in Aaron’s townhouse—rent-free, of course, and I would pay them a salary or a portion of the rent money from the slips. Now that takes care of the marina stuff. ‘Course, that’s saying your folks would agree to the arrangement, but I’m thinking they will. Last letter I got from ‘em, seems like they were stretching themselves to make ends meet. What d’ya think so far?”

That must have been quite a talk with Jesus that Aunt Connie had. My heart flooded with gratitude at such a generous offer. I expressed those feelings to Aunt Connie as well as I could and told her that I thought they might go for running the marina.

“Good.” Aunt Connie nodded. “Now I want to tell you the rest of my plan, and I want you to hear me out before you say anything. I’ll give you your say after I’m through, so keep that mouth from flappin’ ahead of time.” Aunt Connie took a deep breath and then hit me with the surprise of my life. “Okay, here goes. I’ve worked hard all my life, and I got the aches and the pains to show for it. I think Peggy would like to
buy me out, but she’s not in any position to pay a fair-market price for this place. And up until last night I would have needed fair-market price just to live off of. That’s changed now. I think I can offer Peggy a deal she and her husband can afford. I can retire. Oh, maybe help out now and again, just to keep my hand in things and keep life interesting.”

“That’s a great idea, Aunt Connie.” I opened my flap.

Frowning at me, Aunt Connie held up a finger. “Hush, child. You already know that when your Grandma and Grandpa Tanner passed away, they owned quite a bit of farmland. That land mostly went to the boys because they were into cattle and farming, but I got the house and thirty acres on Willow Creek that they kept rented out. I never rented it, but I’ve kept it up over the years, figuring I would have to eventually sell this place and retire out there. But I like living in town, and I’ve never looked forward to living out at Willow Creek. As things stand, I can now buy me a little place right near the town square, or I can maybe work it out with Peggy just to stay right where I am. So, what I would like to do is to give you the house and thirty acres at Willow Creek.” She gave me a stern look. “I know you’d like to start telling me why you can’t accept my offer. I want you to remember, Dixie, I asked you to hear me out, so keep that flap shut, like I told you, till I’m finished.”

I couldn’t believe she was offering me Willow Creek. Although I had always admired, maybe even drooled over the craftsman-style house at Willow Creek, what would I do with it?

Smiling at me, Aunt Connie said, “I know what you’re thinkin’ ‘bout now. You’re thinkin’ you can’t accept my offer because you have a life in Little Rock. But I think you can have a life here, too, a real good life, Dixie. You don’t have to quit being a psychologist, honey. There’s plenty of insane folks in Kenna Springs. Half of ‘em are probably kin to you. You could work out of the house. There’s thirty acres out there, plenty of room for parking. And you’d own it, free and clear.”

I felt myself tempted. But it just wasn’t practical, was it? What about insurance and job security and all the other benefits that came with big-city life?

“I just don’t know what to say,” I told her. “I appreciate the offer, I do. A part of me would like to jump at the chance and say yes, but there are also a lot of no’s rolling around in my head.”

“Don’t say no just yet, honey. Take your time thinking about it. There’s no hurry. But do take it seriously. We’ll keep this between ourselves for right now. When things are more settled we can talk about it again. Okay?”

I nodded meekly. Maybe Aunt Connie was right. Rather than just reject her offer, I should give it some thought. Coming back to Kenna Springs didn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore.

“Mercy, child.” Aunt Connie suddenly jumped up from her chair, grabbed both cups, and threw them into the sink like they were paper instead of ceramic. “Look at the time!

It’s nearly seven o’clock. We’ve got to get dressed and get on over to Freedom’s place.”

That’s Aunt Connie for you. Drop a bombshell at dawn’s early light and then go eat breakfast.

Uncle Rudd and Aunt Nissa were coming up the stairs just as we walked out the door. We waited for them and walked to Freedom’s place together.

Freedom already had the door standing open. We could see him by the stove, grinning and waving us in with a large spoon in his hand. “Hope you’re hungry!”

“We sure are,” Uncle Rudd answered for all of us. The four of us headed for the kitchen table and sat down.

Freedom took the biscuits out of the oven, ladled the sausage gravy into a large bowl, and set both on the table. Aunt Nissa served coffee; Uncle Rudd said grace and started passing the biscuits.

Aunt Nissa took a bite of her biscuit and raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Why, these are homemade biscuits, Freedom. Where did you learn to make homemade biscuits?”