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“My dad passed away when I was a teenager, leaving mom to run our coffeehouse. To help out, my brother and I pretty much took care of things around the house, which included both of us learning how to cook.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through your teen years without your dad,” Aunt Nissa said. “That must have been very hard on you and your brother.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Aunt Connie chimed in before Freedom
could answer. “But I gotta say these biscuits and sausage gravy rival yours, Nissa.” To which Aunt Nissa agreed.

After that there was a void in the conversation until Aunt Connie said, “By the way, Dixie, what was it you were going to tell me this morning? Seems like it was something about what Latham said yesterday.”

In all the hoopla of Aunt Connie’s plans I had forgotten all about Latham. “Oh yes, when I asked Latham how he found out about Aaron coming to town, he said he thought it was Truman Spencer who told him. It just seems sort of strange that either Truman’s name keeps coming up, or he keeps showing up himself.”

“You still thinking Truman’s our killer?” Uncle Rudd asked.

“Maybe.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Anybody got anyone else in mind?”

Four shaking heads answered that question. Aunt Nissa finally broke the woeful silence with her usual brisk common sense.

“Then the best thing we can do for Connie right now is to concentrate on the things we can do. Dixie dear, have you called your secretary and asked her to check on that Doctor Sweeney?”

I felt the blood rush to my face. I had forgotten about calling Estelle because the easiest way to deal with Estelle is not to deal with Estelle. But I had to face the music, pay
the piper, take my medicine…. It was decided that I was relieved from breakfast cleanup duty so that I could phone Estelle.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

I
let myself into Aunt Connie’s apartment, found my purse, and dug out my cell phone. It was a little before eight in the morning. I decided to call the clinic number. Estelle usually comes in early.

She picked it up on the first ring. I heard her efficient office voice say, “Dr. Tanner’s office, can I help you?”

“Uh, hi, Estelle, sorry I didn’t call back yesterday, some, uh, things came up.” I stammered, rubbing my stomach like that would somehow loosen the hard knot I felt forming inside it.

“How did things turn out with Mr. Woodbine?” I asked quickly. I didn’t want to give Estelle a chance to ask me any questions about what I was doing in Kenna Springs. I had simply told her there were some problems with my family. I hadn’t elaborated that those problems entailed murder and mayhem. I didn’t particularly want to start elaborating now.

“The candy did not work.” Estelle’s voice was more than a tad frosty. That didn’t bode well.

“How did Dr. Gaitherman coax him out of the coat closet then?”

“Dr. Gaitherman did not coax Mr. Woodbine out of your closet.”

“I see.” I felt the pace of my heartbeat pick up. “Estelle, are you telling me that Mr. Woodbine is still in my closet?”

“No, he is not in the closet,” Estelle said. My heart, at least, went back to normal. She did throw me a bit more information. “Presumably he is at home, or doing whatever it is he does at this time in the morning.”

I asked the next logical question, “Then how did he get out of the closet?”

“I… well… I got him to come out of the closet.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Estelle Biggs, who had never interfered in any of my counseling sessions, took it upon herself to extract a patient from my closet. This I had to hear.

“How did you manage to do that?”

“I went to the closet and informed him that if he continued to stay in that closet, I would be forced to bill him for ‘closet time,’ which, as it just so happens, is about twice your normal fee. He came out immediately. Before he left, he made an appointment to see you next week at his regular time.”

Good for Estelle. Not the strategy I would have used, but it had obviously worked. Trying not to giggle, I moved on to the real reason for my call.

“Estelle, I hate to do this, especially after what you’ve been through, but I called for another reason besides checking on how things went with Mr. Woodbine. I know this isn’t in your job description, but could you do me a favor and look up a Dr. Sweeney? He’s a specialist, practicing in the Fort Walton Beach area of Florida. I need to know his specialty, his credentials, and his phone number.”

When Estelle said, “Of course I can do that, Dr. Tanner,” I knew we were back on solid ground with each other.

“Do you have any more information than that?” she asked. “Do you know his first name? It would make things easier if I knew a little more.”

“I know it would, Estelle, but that’s all the information I have. It’s just a hunch, but you might try starting with oncology doctors.”

I knew what Estelle really wanted to know was why I wanted information on Dr. Sweeney. That I could not tell her.

Making one more stab at getting something out of me, she asked, “Would you like me to make an appointment with Dr. Sweeney? Is it for your mom or dad? Don’t they live in that area of Florida? Is someone in your family seriously ill, Dr. Tanner?”

I continued to hedge. “I know I’m being evasive about all of this, and that isn’t fair to you. I really can’t tell you what’s going on. But I can assure you that no one in my immediate family needs to see Dr. Sweeney.”

I heard her sigh. “All right, Dr. Tanner. I think I understand. Do you want me to call you on your cell phone when I find this Dr. Sweeney?”

“Yes, I’ll leave my cell phone on and keep it handy.” I was relieved. “And Estelle, thanks for understanding. Good-bye.”

I had just put my cell phone back in my purse and started for the door when Aunt Connie walked in.

“You were gone so long we were gettin’ kinda worried. Everything all right? Did you talk to your secretary? What’s her name, Estelle?”

The thought went through my head that Aunt Connie could remember things like the name of a woman she had never met, and she had certainly been a tower of strength and encouragement when it counted. I wondered if maybe Uncle Rudd and Aunt Nissa had it wrong about her. Other than her reaction to Aaron’s murder, which was understandable, she sure seemed to be in control of all her faculties. Maybe Aunt Connie forgot a few things before the murder because the stress of running her own business had been getting to her. Maybe her decision to retire was the right one for her.

“Everything’s fine. I just had to answer some questions Estelle had for me about a client. She’s going to look up Dr. Sweeney for us and call me back with any information she finds.”

Once Aunt Connie and I were back in Freedom’s
apartment, Uncle Rudd wasted no time issuing our orders for the day. Aunt Connie and Aunt Nissa would take care of the flower shop, Uncle Rudd would go visit his buddies from the bachelor party list, and Freedom and I would go talk to Dolly O’Connell’s one time boyfriend, Chad Gunther.

By nine o’clock we were all on our way to take care of our appointed tasks.

Freedom and I sped and bumped our way down the two-lane highway toward Brogan’s Ferry. The town was only fifteen miles from Kenna Springs. It always seemed longer because of the crooked roads.

Rolling the window down halfway, I let the cool air hit my face. Black clouds were overhead, and the humid scent of rain was in the air. Soon it would be winter, and the days of snow and sleet would come, but not today. Today it would rain.

Up ahead I could see the concrete slab bridge that crossed Twelve Mile Creek. Addison’s Mill was just past the bridge. I remembered that Dolly’s car was found not far from the mill, the halfway mark between Kenna Springs and Brogan’s Ferry. I felt certain that Dolly had been murdered, but no one had ever found her body. Out loud, I posed the question, “If somebody did kill Dolly, where do you think they would have hidden the body?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself,” Freedom said. “Seems like whoever killed her would have plenty of choices between the creek, the woods, and the mill. I guess since no one
seemed to think she was murdered, no one went looking for her body when she was missing. The chances of finding her body now are about nil.”

We had the directions to Chad Gunther’s place of business that Uncle Rudd had given to me earlier. His auto repair shop was just outside the city limits of Brogan’s Ferry. The faded sign on the top of a forlorn-looking concrete building told us we were at the right place. I noticed there was an older brown trailer in the back of the shop with a large black dog chained to the porch rail. Freedom parked the truck, and we walked toward the door with the word
OFFICE
painted on it. Freedom and I looked at each other and opened the door.

A long-legged man sat with his feet propped up on the metal desk in the middle of the room. A hank of thick, greasy hair hung down his forehead, almost covering one of his sullen eyes. Deep creases in his skin worked their way along his mouth and cheeks.

Moving his legs off the desk, the man’s eyes fixed on me. Taking a long, leering, up-and-down look, he said in a gravelly voice, “What can I do ya for?”

“We’re looking for a Mr. Chad Gunther.” I put as much frost into the question as I possibly could, hoping this man was not Chad Gunther.

The man rolled his chair back and stood up. “Well, now, that’d be me.”

He moved close enough to me that I could smell his stale breath. “I don’t recall your name, girly. Did we meet down at
Jessup’s Fishin’ Hole Bar last Saturday night?”

Gunther put one hand on his chest, held the other up in the air, and danced a few steps with an imaginary partner. “Ho boy, I had one too many that night. I bet we had us a good time though, didn’t we, girly?”

Out the corner of my eye, I noted that Freedom’s face showed the same disgust I felt. I saw him move a step forward, but I held my hand out to stop him and shook my head. In the same frosty voice I had used a moment ago, I said, “Mr. Gunther, I assure you that we did not meet last Saturday night or any other Saturday night. If we had, you would have a distinct and specific memory of it.”

“Why’s that, girly?”

“Because if we had, you would’ve most certainly had to pay your dentist extra for fixing your teeth on Sunday.”

His body stiffened, and he said in an exaggerated whining tone, “Well, excuse me! I had no idea the Ice Queen had come to pay me a visit.”

While I didn’t like the idea of being leered at, called ‘girly,’ or even ‘Ice Queen,’ it occurred to me that I didn’t want to alienate him entirely. Besides, I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday with Fog Whitman, so I started over.

“Look, my name is Dixie Tanner.” I pointed to Freedom. “This is Freedom Crane. We came here to ask you a few questions, that’s all.”

Gunther looked at Freedom like he had just noticed him for the first time.

“Yeah, whatever you two want, make it fast, I got work to do.” Gunther stared at us through sullen eyes.

This was getting more awkward by the minute. “Mr. Gunther, we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here, and we don’t want to do that. We need your help, and in return, we might be able to help you in a way. Forty years ago my aunt was to be married. The night before the wedding, there was a bachelor party for her fiancé, and then he disappeared. That same night your girlfriend, Dolly O’Connell, went missing. We think there might be a connection.”

I hesitated for a moment, because I saw Gunther’s face darken, and his eyes narrow to fleshy little slits. Not knowing why or what else to do, I went on talking. “I know that must have been a hard time for you. We wouldn’t willingly bring up old wounds, but you’ve got to believe me, it’s necessary that we do so. We may be able to find out what happened to Dolly that night as well as what happened to our friend. Please help us.”

Red-faced with anger, Gunther took a couple of steps toward me. Freedom moved in between the two of us. I couldn’t see Gunther, but I heard him yell, “What’re you sayin’—that my Dolly and your friend ran away together? That’s a filthy lie! You ain’t gettin’ nothin’ outta me. You hear me! Get outta my place! Now!”

Neither Freedom nor I moved. I think we were too stunned.

I was looking at the back of Freedom’s head, but I heard
him say, “Listen, buddy, you got it all wrong.”

Then all of a sudden I wasn’t looking at the back of Freedom’s head anymore. I was looking at a fist coming straight for my face.

I can’t say that I saw stars, exactly, but I did notice little lights going off inside my head. There was a moment of unbelief, then the pain.

I lay there, my back against the soft drink machine. I was aware of scuffling noises and loud words, but the sharp pain just below my eye took up the better part of my attention.

When my eyeballs synchronized again, I saw that Freedom had Gunther down on the desk. I couldn’t quite catch what Freedom was saying to the man, but every once in a while he would bump Gunther’s head on the desk for emphasis.

My head was spinning, but I forced myself to listen. In a voice that sounded far away, I heard Freedom saying, “All we want is for you to be nice enough to give us some information. That’s the easy way to do things. The hard way is for me to keep thumping your head until you get some manners. Just let me know which of those two ways appeals to your sensibilities.”