Confound It

by Maggie Toussaint

  “How so?”

  “He shouldn’t have stashed the pigs here. This place is for dogs and cats.”

  I stored the broom in the closet. “We don’t have a pig rescue shelter.”

  “Not our problem. Prioritize. Finding homes for these pigs isn’t as important as learning what happened to Ms. Patterson. What’d you see, by the way?”

  “I saw an afternoon scene from early in Doodle’s life. He rode the school bus home, and his mom was cooking meth. She stopped to welcome him home. Apparently she considered him a child prodigy, but he was being bullied at school.”

  “Anything stand out in the dreamwalk?” Mayes asked as we walked to the truck.

  “The meth room resembled a science lab trashed by teenagers. Not neat or tidy. I didn’t understand what she was doing at first, but it was the room where the explosion occurred. Anyway, she told Doodle she was putting aside money for his college.”

  “She’s been cooking for a long time?”

  I squeezed through the opening between the fence and tree. Mayes followed, and then we edged along the fence line to my truck. The afternoon sun felt good on my face.

  “That’s my take on it,” I said. “Doodle seemed younger than Larissa, so maybe five or six years.”

  “Seems like your sheriff should’ve known about her operation.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Hmm. Must mean she didn’t sell locally. Her anonymity could be because she supplied product for another region. That would make her a powerful asset and a secret weapon for a drug cartel.”

  “She had security cameras in her yard. I saw the feed in the dreamwalk.”

  “Too bad we can’t access those vids. She would most likely have pics of the arsonist.”

  “Not a chance, not unless the feed went offsite, and then, how would we find it?”

  Mayes went silent for a moment. “We should check the woods bordering her trailer for cameras. There’s a chance the files remain on the camera itself.”

  My feet dragged to a halt. I met his gaze over the hood of my truck. “You think the images survived the blaze?”

  Mayes shrugged. “None of us thought about cameras this morning. You saw the feed, right?”

  “I did.”

  “Then you can show me where the cameras were pointed. I’ll backtrack from there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “If that doesn’t pan out, our best shot is to find that money. Given Mandy’s lack of detection by local law enforcement, I suspect she cranked out a lot of meth. That kid must be flipping rich. No telling how much money is in his college fund by now.”

  “We should flag Mandy’s bank accounts and make sure that June doesn’t get her greedy paws on his college fund.”

  “I’m sure your sheriff will hit the banks on Monday. Banks are closed over the weekend.”

  “Right. The weekend.” Today was still Saturday. I had another day with Mayes and then he’d drive home on Monday. This weekend was zipping by at warp speed.

  Mayes withdrew a slip of paper from his pocket. “I copied the kid’s cell number from the office. Let’s see if he’ll meet with us.”

  “You’re full of good ideas.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Doodle met us at the hamburger joint. “I got nothing to say to you people.”

  “You came,” Mayes said, gesturing for the kid to sit with us. “Might as well hear us out.”

  The teen reached behind him, grabbed a chair, and reversed it to sit down. Guess he didn’t care to sit beside either one of us in the booth. He was also closest to the door. Smart kid.

  “We know your mom cooked meth, Doodle,” I said. “We also know why she did it. For you. For college.”

  His brown eyes blazed, but he said nothing. Anger radiated in waves from this young man. How could I reach him?

  “We want to learn the circumstances surrounding her death,” I continued. “We want you to have peace of mind so you can move on.”

  “My mom is dead. Nothing can fix that.”

  At last! He was talking. “She visited me in a dream. You were in it too. And you were talking about a Mr. Hutto.”

  Doodle blasted out a string of cuss words. I was surprised my ears didn’t blister from his fury. When he paused for a breath, I asked, “You didn’t like Hutto?”

  “No matter what she did, he yelled at her. He worked with her for a day, then Derenne moved in. He was worse than Hutto because he yelled and beat my mom. I should’ve killed him while he was sleeping. Now he’s killed my mom, and I have to stay with Aunt June. This blows chunks.”

  I connected the dots. “Derenne was your mom’s business partner?”

  “Not hardly. He was her boss and landlord. He made sure she did what he wanted.”

  “How’d he do that?”

  “Said he’d make me an orphan if she quit. Said she was his personal property. Like he owned her. I hate him.”

  “What’s Derenne’s full name?”

  He reared back, eyes round. “Learned my lesson about bullies years ago. My lips are sealed.”

  Mayes shifted in his seat like he was getting ready to say something. I shot him a sharp look. “Bullies can be stopped, but they have to be exposed. They live on people’s fears.”

  “You don’t understand. This guy’s a hunter. He’s always boasting about his kills. He will kill me, and no one will care. I’m a nobody.”

  “You’re a somebody. I’d notice if you were killed, Doodle.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If he finds out I talked to you, I’ll be dead.”

  “You can’t spend your whole life looking over your shoulder. We need to bring this man in for questioning.”

  “Find him some other way. I gotta go.”

  Quicker than the blink of an eye, Mayes blocked the boy’s exit. “Stay. Just a moment longer.”

  Doodle shrank toward me. “Why?”

  “We want to help you, but you have to help us first.”

  The boy froze as a group of people entered the building. He let out a long sigh when they took no notice of him.

  He sat, but I knew I didn’t have long. “Where did your mother bank?”

  “She didn’t have a bank account.”

  “How did she pay her bills?”

  “In cash or money orders.”

  “How old is Petunia?”

  “She’s nine.”

  “Was she always a watch pig?”

  Doodle nearly cracked a smile. “Yeah. She always knew when a vehicle was coming.”

  “She’d thump her head on the door of the lab?”

  He blinked. “How’d you know that?”

  “I just do.”

  “That’s wrong. I gotta go.”

  He rose, and so did I. “Wait. Your pigs are in trouble. They busted out of the pen you had them in and broke into the shelter. We moved them to the exercise yard. You might want to check on them before you do anything else.”

  “What?” His hands shook, and his face paled. “I gotta save them. They’re all the family I have left.”

  Mayes and I watched him flee. “That went well,” I said.

  “Good line of questioning.” Mayes smiled at me. “We now know she cooked for Derenne for six to eight years. Where’d the money go?”

  “If she didn’t have a bank account, maybe she hid the money on her property.”

  “Or she laundered it to create Doodle’s college fund,” Mayes said. “I know someone who’s pretty good with computers. He could search investment companies using Doodle’s Social Security number.”

  “Won’t that upset Mr. GBI’s apple cart?”

  “It’s a lead. If it pans out, I’ll let the sheriff know. Escoe is being shortsighted by dismissing your helpfulness. If he thinks he’ll find a buyer’s name in all that rubble from the fire, he’s mistaken. Mandy was a survivor. Had to be or the job would’ve eaten her alive before now.”

  My pride still smarted from the GBI agent cutting me out of the picture. “Why is Wa
yne going along with him?”

  “Is he? Wayne sent us to check on the pigs. You had a dreamwalk. We now know Mandy’s trucker boyfriend was her landlord, boss, and enforcer. That’s a lead Wayne can use.”

  “I guess.”

  “We’re still on the case. Just doing it on the QT. It’s a matter of perspective. Wayne knows you have value. He’ll bring you back in due time.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s what I would do.”

  A group of teens walked by, laughing and talking. Mayes’ words lifted my spirits. I wasn’t off the case. I was working undercover. I liked that, a lot.

  “Getting back to the case, if Mandy didn’t use a bank, then she probably didn’t use a lockbox to store her money or her important papers.”

  “Probably not. We’ll keep pondering the money angle. Meanwhile, we have two leads to show for our efforts. Better yet, the drug-supply-chain lead may get Escoe out of here sooner. If Derenne’s the distributor, I can’t run his name without attracting the wrong kind of notice.”

  “We’ll tell the sheriff and let him take the heat. Imagine how happy he’ll be to learn I speak pig very well.”

  “And we’ll continue to think about where Mandy stashed her cash. If we find it, we may solve the case without Escoe. Wouldn’t that beat all?”

  I smiled big. “It would.”

  Chapter Twenty

  After leaving the sheriff a voicemail message on his cell with our findings, we stopped at my house to grab several grocery bags of fresh veggies. This edible bounty came as a fringe benefit of being the Dreamwalker. Bags of food showed up on my porch several times a week, same as they had at my parents’ house when my dad was the Dreamwalker.

  The amount of donated food exceeded my needs, so I paid it forward by sharing with the community food bank. This batch of mostly sweet potatoes, kale, tomatoes, onions, and fresh peaches would certainly add to the fare at tonight’s cookout at my parents’ place in the woods.

  Out of the blue, worry crowded in. My family leaned toward counterculture instead of mainstream. Mayes seemed determined to mainstream himself. Would he consider our lifestyle backward?

  “What?” Mayes said as we carried the bags to my truck.

  “Do you know what you are getting yourself into tonight? Most people avoid Mom and Dad unless they need help or sanctuary. Folks consider them to be burned-out hippies. Fair warning: very odd characters turn up at their place.”

  “I’m not one to be swayed by public opinion. Besides, I’ve already met your parents, and they’re good people. I respect them, and their unique abilities. You’re blessed to have them in your life.”

  As we stowed the food, I savored Mayes’ words. Mom and Dad were givers, and I was proud of them. “What about your folks? You don’t talk about your family much.”

  He frowned. “My parents expect me to embrace the old ways, to follow tradition, and to take my place in tribal leadership. Yet, they drive new cars and watch movies on their flat-screen TV.”

  His observation filled me with sympathy as I eased the truck out of the driveway and steered to my parents’ house. “I’m sorry.”

  “They put no pressure on my brother or my sister to be wholly Cherokee. Just me. How fair is that?”

  “Fair?” Words long swallowed boiled in my craw and then erupted. “There’s no such thing. Let me tell you what I think about ‘fair.’ It took two years to straighten out the red tape surrounding Roland’s death benefits; meanwhile, I had to support us. I love my folks, but I couldn’t move in with them. The world is not fair. Never has been. Never will be.”

  Lines on the road slipped by in a hurry. The sky looked the same as it had earlier except now I felt icky. Why had I blurted that out? Mayes didn’t need to know my money troubles. Worse, he’d finally opened up about his family and I’d told him to suck it up. It was so quiet in the truck I could hear the faint ringing in my ears.

  Several miles rolled by, and I couldn’t stand this awkward vibe. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I meant to show you I understood having the deck stacked against you, but once I opened those emotional floodgates, more came out than I intended. I can’t discuss my problems with anyone. Not my parents, not Charlotte, not my daughter.”

  “I’m a good listener,” Mayes said.

  My eyes misted with tears. A sob escaped.

  “I’m also very interested in your safety,” Mayes said. “Pull over in front of that house.”

  The old McCauley place. I eased into their weed-choked driveway. When I shifted the gear lever into park, Mayes unhooked our seatbelts and drew me into his arms. I let myself go, ignoring the wisdom of holding him at arm’s length. He offered comfort, and I welcomed it.

  After a few minutes, my tears subsided. My head felt stuffy, but my heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. “Thank you,” I managed.

  His arms tightened around me, and I realized he’d been softly chanting this whole time. Though the words sounded foreign to my ears, their effect soothed me. I stilled again, letting the moment happen.

  The chant wound down in its own time, and an easy silence followed. “That was lovely,” I murmured into his damp shirt.

  He caressed my hair, splayed his palm across my back. Neither of us moved for a while, then I glanced up, not knowing what to expect. He touched his forehead to mine and released me.

  I wasn’t entirely ready to be released, but I felt stronger, as if the load that had bent my shoulders for years was gone. “What was that song?” I asked.

  His face glowed. “A Cherokee healing melody. It is generations old, handed down orally among my people.”

  “What do the words mean?”

  “It is about healing, tuning your inner light, and opening to possibilities.”

  I bowed my head to him, moved that he had shared so much of himself with me. It had felt so intimate, so personal. “I am thankful. You’re full of surprises.” And tenderness.

  Another easy silence followed. “I have much respect for you, Dreamwalker.”

  “I’m humbled by your words. Truthfully, I’m a rookie on the paranormal level. But you, in contrast, you are a powerful holy man, whether you acknowledge it or not.”

  He lifted my chin and regarded me steadily. “The healing chant was for you alone. I do not do this for others.”

  “You should. Your family is right about your talents.”

  “My elders … they seek another path for me. A path I do not want.”

  His frank words opened another festering wound in my pride. “Do you think I wanted to be the Dreamwalker? This job was killing my dad, but if I didn’t take it, the power and responsibility would shift to my daughter. That wasn’t happening.”

  “You were born to be a Dreamwalker.”

  “You are a holy man.”

  We stared at each other for a moment and then I burst out laughing. His expression tightened into a mask, so I hugged him until his tension eased. “Sorry. We’re fighting about the oddest thing, about what makes us who we are.”

  “But not what we are.”

  An odd distinction. “If you say so.”

  Without further incident, we drove to my parents’ cottage in the woods. I recognized the parked vehicles as those of Running Bear, Gentle Dove, and Bubba Paxton. They were my father’s dreamwalking friends, and I’d inherited his paranormal support team when I became the Dreamwalker.

  Mayes stood beside my truck for a moment, his hands raised to the east. Not knowing if this was another cultural moment, I froze. Would he burst into song? Would his words once again arrow straight into my heart?

  Instead, he turned to me with a face as radiant as sunrise. “This place. It’s special. It speaks to me.”

  “My grandparents nearly had a stroke when my dad decided to build here instead of at the waterfront. Dad held fast, and we’ve all benefited from his choice. The energy here is right. That’s the best way I can describe it.”

  “The Great Spirit is p
leased with him.”

  “You get that from your communion with nature just now?”

  He gave me an odd look. “I’ve known it from the start. Your father is a good man.”

  Why was he testy with me again? “Great. Let’s introduce you to everyone and get these vegetables to the kitchen.”

  “Mom!” Larissa called.

  I turned to greet my daughter, but a terrible rending pain in my gut drove me to my knees. As I collapsed, I heard Mayes cry out and drop to the ground as well. The world faded to black.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I revived on the living room floor of my parents’ cottage. For once, the drone of the weather channel Mom always watched had been silenced. The terrible pain in my gut had eased, but the uncomfortable pressure remained. My hand immediately went to my belly, dislodging several gemstones. Pain stabbed, harsh and ugly, taking my breath away.

  “Be still, hon.” Mom’s soft voice soothed as she reapplied the gemstones. I opened my extra senses and viewed the scene from outside my body. Mayes and I lay side by side on a quilt in the center of the floor. Running Bear was chanting and splashing something over us while Mom, Dad, Larissa, Gentle Dove, and Bubba Paxton sat cross-legged around us. All the dogs were present. Elvis the Chihuahua nestled at my side.

  Mayes joined me in the dream state. “What happened to us?” he asked.

  “The pain. It came back, this time in my belly. I passed out. Did it happen to you too?”

  “Aah.” He nodded sagely, as if the knowledge of the universe belonged to him.

  When he didn’t elaborate, my temper flared. “I hate it when you do that.

  Please tell me.”

  He watched me closely. “We are bound.”

  “How is that possible?” I edged away from him, watching the tableau below from across the room. “We have similar traits and interests, but bound? That’s an odd word choice.”

  He shrugged.

  I fumed silently. We weren’t bound after energy sharing here and at the mountain, which suggested the Rose-orchestrated intimacy was the possible binding force. Bound sounded permanent, as in forever and ever, amen. Were we psychically fused together? Was that possible?