May Cooler Heads Prevail (19 page)

Before I could answer, Aunt Connie suddenly plopped her glass of iced tea down hard on the table. “All Aaron wanted was to live out whatever days he had left. He was robbed of those days, and that makes me fightin’ mad.” Her whole body trembled with anger. “We got to do something to flush this murderin’ buzzard out into the open. What’s the old saying? Desperate times call for desperate measures. I say we’re desperate. We need a plan!”

“I agree with Connie,” Freedom said calmly. “So far we’ve turned over every stone we can think of and still don’t know who the killer is. What we do know is that we are dealing with a man who thinks he can get away with murder. And in my opinion, he won’t hesitate to murder any one of us.” He cleared his throat. “And there’s a couple more things we know about him now.”

“What are they?” Aunt Connie gave him a puzzled frown.

“Number one, Aaron’s killer is definitely responsible for Dolly’s disappearance. If there were no connection between the two incidents, he wouldn’t care what we could find out from Gunther, and so he wouldn’t have tried to run us off the road after talking to him. And number two… he’s watching us.” Freedom’s voice grew chill. “How else would he know where Dixie and I were? He must have followed us from Kenna Springs to Brogan’s Ferry, seen us head into Gunther’s shop, and hightailed it over to Micah Bass’s to steal his hay truck so he could ambush us on our way home. None of us
are safe until we expose him and hand him over to Otis.”

That was a sobering thought.

Uncle Rudd was the first one to express out loud what we were all thinking. “Let’s do it then! Anybody got any ideas how we might go about flushing this guy out in the open?”

Aunt Nissa, always practical, asked, “But don’t we have to decide who we’re going to flush out first? We can’t try to flush out everybody that attended that bachelor party can we? We’ll have to pick someone.”

She was right. We couldn’t tackle the whole bunch at once. We had to focus on one person at a time. I decided it was time to put in my two cents’ worth. “It does make sense that we have to pick someone, and my vote goes to Truman Spencer as the one most likely to commit murder.”

Freedom spoke up before anyone else. “Truman is the only one that’s acted even a little suspicious. I agree with that. We know from Gunther that Dolly was seeing someone from town, and we know that it must have been someone at the bachelor party, but that doesn’t tell us a lot, much less point the finger at Truman.”

Everyone looked at me. I felt like a lawyer about to plead a weak case before a jury. “I realize we don’t know for sure why Dolly was murdered. We’ve just now come to the point where we’re pretty sure she was. Maybe Gunther is right, she did just run away and is probably on her third or fourth marriage by now. But we’ve assumed she was murdered, and
because Aaron Scott knew she’d been murdered, it scared him so badly that he left town. And of course, we’ve assumed the same information that scared Aaron also got him killed when he came back. We’re assuming a lot of things, but they’re at least educated guesses. That’s all we have to go on. We do know that Truman lied to Otis about being on his way to the office when the burglary happened. We also know that Truman saw at least the heading on the article about Dolly. And from Latham Sheffield we know that Truman was aware that Aaron was in town. Last, but certainly not least, we know Truman was one of two people who wasn’t around town today. So, taking another educated guess, I think we have to put Truman at the top of the suspect list.”

“There is a sort of twisted logic in that,” Freedom said. “Bottom line, we have to focus on somebody, and at this point, maybe Truman is the best we have. Whatever plan we come up with, let’s keep it simple. No frills. We’ve got enough to worry about as it is.”

“All right.” Uncle Rudd nodded and looked at each one of us. “If we’re all agreed, then after lunch we’ll decide on a simple, no-frills plan to flush out Truman Spencer.”

We all agreed.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

A
fter lunch we settled down in Aunt Connie’s living room. Aunt Connie, Aunt Nissa, and I took the couch. Uncle Rudd and Freedom took the two chairs facing the coffee table on either side of the couch. Each of us, fortified with a cup of coffee, settled in for the long haul.

It took nearly two hours, a dozen sheets of paper, a few arguments, and one snack break, but we had a plan. A simple, no-frills, two-step plan.

The first step would be to call Truman Spencer to tell him we would give him an interview about the burglary. We would invite him over to the flower shop and tell him to use the back entrance. We decided, largely on my say-so, that placing him at the scene of the crime would have a psychological impact on him, making him more nervous and vulnerable. The second step would be to ask him some very leading and pointed questions about Aaron Scott and Dolly O’Connell. We hoped that steps one and two would cause Truman to become so nervous and frustrated that he would do something stupid. Then the five of us would pounce on
him and turn him over to the sheriff.

It’s just barely possible that our plan wasn’t the most brilliant way to handle things. But it was the best we could come up with.

Uncle Rudd made the call from Aunt Connie’s bedroom while we waited quietly in the living room.

“I got ahold of him at the newspaper office,” Uncle Rudd said as he came out of the bedroom. “Ol’ Truman said he had some stuff to take care of first, but he can be here at seven tonight. Sounded downright pleased to be coming over.”

The fact that Truman had almost four hours before he came over made me uneasy. “Truman may be concocting his own little evil plan to do away with us. He certainly has the time for it. We had better be ready for him.”

Uncle Rudd nodded, then turned to Freedom. “Let’s you and me go downstairs to the workshop and take a look-see. We have as much time as Truman to figure out the best way to protect ourselves.”

“I think Connie and I might be of some help,” Aunt Nissa said. “We’ll go downstairs with you.” She patted my knee. “Dixie dear, you’ve already had quite a day. You must be sore and hurting all over. Why don’t you take a nap for a couple of hours? We’ll be sure to wake you up in plenty of time to get in on the action.”

Get in on the action. I decided that Aunt Nissa had been reading way too many mystery novels. She was right
about one thing, though, my body was sore and aching. A nap sounded wonderful, and I told her so as I stood up and grabbed the small of my back with both hands.

Sitting there on the couch for so long had stiffened my body considerably. Taking a few careful steps in the direction of the kitchen, I faced everyone. “You go on downstairs. Have all the fun you want to. I’m going to get a glass of water, take a couple of extra-strength aspirin, and try to sleep.”

As I climbed into bed, it occurred to me that no matter how much planning they did between now and when Truman showed up, if Truman came in with guns a-blazin’ there wouldn’t be much we could do to protect ourselves. I was so tired, even that thought couldn’t keep me awake.

It didn’t seem like I had been asleep for more than five minutes before Aunt Connie came barreling into the bedroom. “Time to get up, sleepyhead! There’s a cup of hot coffee for you on the kitchen table. Come on now.”

Once Aunt Connie was satisfied that I was wide-awake and sitting at the kitchen table, she left me with a cup of coffee in my hands and went back downstairs.

I looked at the kitchen clock. It was six fifteen. Forty-five minutes before Truman would show up. I had time to sip my coffee slowly and enjoy it.

As I sipped, I looked around the kitchen and living room area and was struck, for maybe the first time, with the color Aunt Connie had woven into her small living space. The furniture was getting older and a little faded, but that didn’t
distract from the bold color scheme and rich shades of greens, plums, and wine. She also had a love for brightly colored handcrafted knickknacks, as well as antique furniture. It was a nice place. Cozy. Peaceful. Quiet.

I wholeheartedly wished I could just stay in this apartment instead of going down to the workshop. I wasn’t anxious for any more “action,” as Aunt Nissa put it. But the sooner we got this over with the better. I put my empty coffee cup in the sink. I did a few stretches to loosen up my stiff body, then I brushed my teeth and headed out the door.

It was already dark, and I was glad that Aunt Connie had thought to flip on the porch light over her apartment as well as the bright light in the alleyway just outside the workshop door.

My first thought when I opened the door and stepped into the workshop was that they had been very busy little worker bees while I was asleep.

“What do you think about what we’ve done to the place, Dixie?” Aunt Connie asked, grinning from ear to ear.

I didn’t know what to think. The place looked like a Halloween nightmare. They had hung fake cobwebs in all the corners of the workshop, put black crepe paper over the workshop table, and strewn dried or dead flowers all over the floor. On the work spaces butted next to the wall there were several half-dead, half-done flower arrangements. That was macabre enough. But the worst, and possibly most bizarre figment of someone’s imagination, was the plastic skeleton
laid out on the center worktable. The skeleton was sporting a blond shaggy wig, and its arms were folded across the chest, holding a bouquet of dead flowers.

Aunt Nissa and Aunt Connie stood next to me, both beaming at their handiwork. “Isn’t it grand?” Aunt Nissa asked with a sweep of her arm. “We remembered what you said about bringing Truman back to the scene of the crime for the psychological impact. We think we added to that. Don’t you?”

Yes, ma’am. I certainly thought they had added to the psychological impact all right. I know it made me uncomfortable.

Aunt Nissa looked disappointed. “Dixie dear, you don’t seem to be very impressed. Do you think we went over the top just a bit?”

Deciding to make the best of it, I took a deep breath. “I think you accomplished what you set out to do.”

They beamed at me again.

Uncle Rudd walked over to the three of us. “Okay ladies, it’s our turn to tell Dixie our plan.”

Frowning, Aunt Nissa put her hands on her hips and faced Uncle Rudd. “I just don’t like it. I think we can do this without any guns.”

Guns. The pit of my stomach tightened into a hard knot.

“It’s only one handgun, Nissa,” Uncle Rudd said defensively. “It’s not like we have an arsenal of firearms.”

Freedom joined us. “Look, I’m not crazy about waving a
gun around, but Rudd and I think we should be prepared. We’ve all agreed that whoever murdered Aaron and Dolly is dangerous. He’s scared and thinks killing is his only option. If we’re right and Truman’s our man, then it doesn’t make much sense for us to gather in one place where he can take potshots at us without being able to defend ourselves.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Uncle Rudd nodded. “That’s absolutely right. The gun stays.”

“Well, it’s too late to argue about it anyway,” Aunt Connie said and pointed at the workshop clock. “Look at the time! We’ve only got a couple minutes before Truman arrives.”

“Right. Places everybody,” Uncle Rudd commanded, shooing everybody with his hands.

Freedom moved quickly over to stand near the workshop door and flattened himself against the wall so that he would be hidden when the door opened. He stood holding the gun in a ready position with both hands.

Aunt Connie and Aunt Nissa scurried over and stood on the other side of the center workbench, so that the workbench was between them and the back door.

“Remember, ladies, Freedom and I packed the space underneath the workbench, so if there’s any shooting, you just duck and you’ll be all right. Don’t let Truman maneuver you away from that bench.” Uncle Rudd grabbed what looked like a broom handle and walked over to the other side of the door from where Freedom stood.

Everybody was in place but me. “Where am I supposed
to be, Uncle Rudd?”

“Sorry, Dixie-gal. I forgot you weren’t here when we decided these things. We’ve placed you in the corner workspace. You stand right by those two tall metal trash cans. Freedom has already filled them up with wood, so if any shootin’ starts, you just curl up behind those cans and stay put.”

I walked over and stood where I was told just as we heard a car pull up outside in the alleyway.

When we heard the knock on the workshop door, Aunt Connie yelled, “Come on in, Truman. It’s not locked.”

When the door opened, I saw Truman’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open at the nightmare scene my aunts created. Then I heard a loud
pop
, the sound of glass crashing, and another loud pop. Truman fell forward into the workshop.

Uncle Rudd dragged Truman clear of the doorway. Freedom shot into the darkness outside until Uncle Rudd could slam the door shut and lock it. Aunt Connie screamed, and Aunt Nissa yelled for Uncle Rudd to be careful. I kept thinking this wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.

Uncle Rudd pointed at me. “Dixie-gal, get over there and turn off the lights. Connie, can you get to a flashlight?”