Read Murder by Serpents (Five Star First Edition Mystery) Online

Authors: Barbara Graham

Tags: #MURDER BY SERPENTS

Murder by Serpents (Five Star First Edition Mystery) (27 page)

It took Mom longer to respond. “Seems like there was something odd that happened that night, but I’ll swear that I can’t put my finger on it.” She wiped an invisible smudge off the bar with the side of her hand. “You know how it is when something is just out of reach. It’ll probably come to me about three in the morning.”

Wade joined them inside, still carrying his camera. “Do you remember anyone out of the ordinary who stopped out there that night?”

“Oddly enough, I do,” said Mom. “When I pulled into the parking lot after church, I saw Queen Doreen’s car parked near the phones. Now that I think about it though, I guess I didn’t see her.”

Tony added that to his notes. “Anyone else?”

“Well, Quentin Mize and Claude Marmot. Those two are quite a pair.” Mom’s eyes widened and her mouth rounded as it dropped open. “Now I remember! I saw that pretty little Sligar girl. It seemed awful late for her to be out, but she was definitely making a call.”

“Prudence’s daughter? Karissa?” said Tony.

Mom nodded.

The boys’ favorite babysitter, Karissa was maybe twelve years old. It had to be two miles from her house to the Okay. “What time was that? Was she alone?”

“Late, maybe midnight.” Mom leaned forward.

“She couldn’t have been alone or I’d have gone out there. A car waited for her, but I didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t parked right next to the phones, but it was running and the headlights were shining on her. That’s how I could recognize her.”

A frown creased Tony’s forehead. He flipped back in his notebook. “Didn’t you just tell me that you left about ten?”

Mom nodded.

“Then how did you see her at midnight?”

Mom’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she made a sound. “Don’t make much sense, do I?” Her face flushed and she looked miserable. Fanning herself with her hand, she studied the surface of the bar. “I’m sure it was Wednesday. I went to church and then I came back here.” She wasn’t really talking to the men, but seemed to be trying to make sense of it herself.

“We closed early. I went home about ten. I saw Quentin and Claude about half an hour before that. I fell asleep in front of the TV during the news at eleven.” She straightened and grinned. “Now I remember. I woke up a little while later sweating like a pig and took a cold shower. This menopause stuff is pretty wild, you know.”There was no response from the men, so she barely paused. “Anyway, after the shower, I was wide awake again. I wanted to read and remembered that I left my book here, so, I jumped into the car in my bathrobe, zipped down here, used the back door and was home again in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

“What’s the book?” said Tony.

“It’s the new one by Jeffrey Deaver. I don’t remember the title right off, but that man sure can tell a story. I couldn’t go to sleep until I finished it.”

A couple of rough looking men wearing dirty jeans and tshirts with the sleeves ripped out strolled through the doorway and handed Mom their keys. She set a couple of bottles of beer on the bar and expertly flipped the caps into a small trashcan. “Guess that’s why I forgot my little trip back down here. I kept trying to figure out who the bad guy really was and what was going to happen next.”

“Makes sense to me.”Tony might have said more, but Wade’s radio crackled, drawing everyone’s attention and sending the deputy outside. He watched Wade’s expression change from curious to mildly concerned. When the young man looked at him and beckoned with his head, Tony joined him.

“Darren just found Possum Calhoun face down in a shallow ditch.” Wade led the way to the cars. “Word is that the body looks like he’s been dead for a while. He called Doc Nash. One of us has to drive by the clinic and lead Doc up there.”

“Can we at least hope that Possum died of natural causes?” Tony couldn’t believe that someone else had died. Ziggy’s story about Sally asking about insurance money jumped into his mind. He didn’t want to think about it. In the few years since he’d taken office, the body count had jumped. Not that many people died in Harvey’s last ten years as sheriff.

 

Tony could already picture Winifred’s next editorial on the high incidence of death by unnatural causes in Park County during his first term as sheriff. By the time election rolled around in August, she would be flying low on her broom, offering free advertising to anyone who would run against him. If the workload continued to increase, he might encourage her efforts.

The moment he saw Doc Nash climbing out of his car, Tony knew the doctor was not a happy man. He didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out.

“Maybe I ought to quit my practice and just follow you boys around all day, or maybe I should just set up housekeeping in the jail.” Furious brown eyes glared at them over the top of Doc’s glasses. “I can’t believe you dragged me out here. I really don’t care how or why Possum is dead. Good riddance. The man was an abusive bully.” Doc sucked air into his lungs and exhaled sharply, his expression unchanged. “Not only that, but he was stupid. I’m surprised he lived this long.”

Tony couldn’t tell which of Possum’s myriad sins irritated the good doctor more, but he agreed wholeheartedly with Doc’s assessment. If it wasn’t his job to investigate, he would probably be inclined to shrug and mumble, “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” but he couldn’t.

Possum’s body lay, face up, on a patch of red mud. Drag marks surrounded it, showing how it had been pulled from a drainage ditch.

The moment they arrived, Darren began apologizing. He blathered continuously about his moving the body. “I knew he had to be dead, but I swear my first instinct was to try and save him. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Darren, I understand.” The anger that the deputy sensed did not stem from his good intentions. Tony’s anger went deeper. It made him mad that men like Possum ever walked the earth and madder still that now he had to deal with his death. Even dead, Tony thought the man looked mean and stupid. His narrow features and protruding teeth were more reminiscent of the rodent family than that of humans. Flaps of skin hung from his knuckles. The lack of scabs indicated that he might have injured them shortly before his death, but they could have been older and the scabs had dissolved. Someone else would have to determine that. Knowing Possum, Tony guessed he slugged someone to cause that kind damage to his hands.

 

Tony wondered if they could find out who or what suffered those punches. Although Possum didn’t limit his violence to her, Sally usually received the lion’s share.

Possum hadn’t smelled pleasant when he was alive. Now, coated with mud and insects, his decomposing body was not an improvement. It was obvious that he had been dead for some time. He could have died before the rain.

 

Wade started taking pictures as soon as he climbed out of the car. He began with the overview and worked his way toward the corpse. It didn’t take long before he had to make his customary pilgrimage to the far side of the road.

The doctor squatted near the body, making the most cursory observations into his pocket tape recorder. When he stood up, he glowered at Tony as if blaming him personally for his troubles. “I’d say he has been dead for at least three days, probably longer. I’d also say that he didn’t drown.”

“How can you tell that?” Wade paused between heaves and looked over at the physician.

“Damn, boy, but you have got the weakest constitution I ever saw. You a vegetarian?” Doc’s lips lifted in a wide grin as he looked at Tony. “Bet he can’t even deal with a dead goldfish without puking.”

“Do you know what killed him?” Tony breathed through his mouth.

“Looks like a knife wound, here,” said Doc, pointing to the side of the corpse’s neck, just beneath the jawbone. “Someone inserted a great big knife here. Something with a wide blade, not one of those little paring jobs. I’d say he probably bled to death, but until the autopsy, we won’t know much more than that.”

“He didn’t die right away?” With his stomach empty, Wade moved to look more closely at the body.

“Naw.” The doctor backed away. “I’m just guessing for now, you understand, but it might not have even killed him if he had received immediate medical help. I should be able to tell that during the autopsy.”

Tony squinted, looking around to see if he could tell where the body might have washed down from. There were many small trees and dense vegetation right down to the edge of the ditch where the body had stopped. The ditch itself ran parallel to the road, and this stretch of road was pretty level.

Tony stared uphill. “If he was stabbed near his house, I don’t think he would have washed down here. His place is almost a mile from here and there just wasn’t enough rain to move him that far.”

“Maybe he walked,” said Doc Nash. “It’s pretty easy to stumble downhill.”

“Let’s check around and see if we can find a trail. Maybe if we just go back toward his place we’ll be able to find out something,” said Wade.

 

Doc Nash planned to stay until the ambulance left with the body and then he would follow it to town.

Darren, Wade and Tony fanned out and began walking in the direction they guessed Possum traveled. It was the most direct route between his home and the road. About a half mile from the body, Darren spotted a knife in a patch of trampled weeds.

 

Not a kitchen knife, it didn’t look like the average hunting knife either. It was a dagger. The eight-inch long blade was thick and heavy and tapered to a sharp point like a miniature claymore. At some point, the hilt had been wrapped with silver duct tape. Since that time, wear had exposed the threads inside the tape. The guard was missing and the blade worn from countless sharpenings. Something that resembled dried blood encrusted both the blade and most of the handle.

Wade photographed it before anyone touched it. Then he carefully bagged and tagged it.

 

No one found anything suspicious between the knife and the Calhoun shack. They saw no signs of broken plants, no blood, and no signs of a struggle.

Sally’s face appeared in the window that faced them. Expressionless, she stared through the filthy, cracked glass, but made no move to join them.

 

Tony approached the cabin. The narrow porch was covered with worn carpeting that looked like fake grass. Afraid that knocking on the rickety door would knock it off its hinges, Tony rapped on the wooden frame.

Sally came to the door and opened it just a crack. “You can’t come in, Sheriff. Possum won’t like it if he sees you inside.”

“If you don’t want me to come in, I need you to come outside, Sally.” Tony spoke softly. Even in the diffused light, he could see that greenish-yellow bruising darkened the left side of her face. “It’s important.”

After a moment, Sally pulled the door open just wide enough to slip outside. Wearing baggy jeans and a dirty T-shirt, she paused to tie a frayed apron with a large center pocket around her waist. With her fingers, she combed her stringy brown hair forward in an obvious attempt to cover the bruises. When Wade and Darren came around the corner, joining Tony, her eyes widened and she took a step backward. “Possum won’t like fin-din’ y’all here.”

Tony couldn’t decide the best way to approach her. Telling friends and relatives bad news was the absolute worst part of his job. “How long has Possum been away?”

Sally gaped at him for a moment, then her chin jutted forward. “Didn’t say he was away, did I? Possum just don’t like visitors.”

“How about you, Sally? This is your home, too. Do you like visitors?”Tony watched her expression. He doubted that anyone had asked her what she liked in years. He knew for a fact that Possum took great pride in not “letting the wife waste good money on soap,” because he’d heard the man spouting off about it.

“Whatever Possum likes is fine with me.” Sally’s eyes did not meet his but moved constantly.

Tony wasn’t making much headway and decided on the direct approach. “I’ve got some bad news for you.” He looked around the yard and saw a tree stump that would make a reasonable seat. “Why don’t you come and sit down?”

“Bad news?” Sally’s hands began shaking and she crossed her arms over her stomach and gripped her elbows, but she refused to sit. “What kind of bad news, Sheriff?”

“We found Possum’s body down near the road.” His eyes didn’t leave Sally’s face. A flash of something unidentifiable moved across it. Was it fear? Relief? Curiosity? “It looks like he’s been dead a while.”

“Dead?” Sally swayed on her feet.

 

Tony extended a hand, offering it but not reaching for her. She grabbed his forearm with both of her hands and dug her fingertips into the muscle. He was grateful she didn’t have long fingernails.

“You must have wondered why he didn’t come home.” Tony led her to the stump and she sat at last, but did not release his arm.

“I did.”

As she watched Wade and Darren moving about in the yard, Tony realized that under the coating of grime that always seemed a part of her, she was quite pretty and younger than he expected. Framed with extravagant dark lashes, her eyes were large and a clear blue-gray. He suspected that, if clean, her hair would be a rich brown. He looked at the hands still gripping his arm. The knuckles of each finger were twisted, red and swollen. Countless fine scars crisscrossed every inch of her chapped skin. Some scars looked old, other fresh.

Anger surged through him, but he kept his tone neutral. “What did you think happened to him?”

“I thought he might have drowned. The water got awful high.” Sally’s voice was a monotone. “I ain’t supposed to leave the house without him.”

“You didn’t call my office.” The total lack emotion in her face and voice chilled him to the bone. She might have been reading a grocery list.

“Possum, he keeps the phone with him, you know, for safekeeping, and I only asked that insurance man ‘cause I seen him down by the road.” She released his arm and shoved her hands into her apron pocket, cradling the slight bulge of her belly. “I figured he’d know and if Possum come home, he wouldn’t like it if he learnt that I’d been talkin’ to you.”

After watching the changes in Theo’s body during her pregnancies, he’d swear that Sally was pregnant. He signaled for Wade to approach. “Have you got that knife with you?”

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