Signed, Sealed and Dead

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  His eyes darted from me to the deputy standing at the door to the visitor’s room, and then back to me again. “I’m sorry.” He stared at the table and wiped something off of it with his one free hand.

  I walked back to the table and sat, but I kept my things on my lap. “Exactly what are you sorry for?”

  “For being rude and not treating you like a lady.” He didn’t make eye contact, and I figured it was because he was afraid.

  “Which time?”

  He lifted his eyes to mine. “All of them.”

  I set my bag on the table. “Well, you should be. I’m sure your momma taught you better than that, and I know for a fact you’re a nice man, because I’ve been told that by people in town, so it must be true. Most people in Bramblett don’t lie.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “But I have to say, you sure don’t act like it to me.”

  “I didn’t kill your friend. I didn’t like him, that’s true, but I didn’t kill him. I’ll tell you though, there’s a lot of other people in town that wouldn’t a cared a bit to see your buddy dead.”

  I settled in for what I expected might be a long conversation. “Care to elaborate on that?”

  “Take Coach Longley for starters. you might could check into him. Those two were at odds all the time. Couldn’t agree on nothing. I heard them arguing about the team from day one, and I heard Longley threaten Trammell, too. Your boyfriend check into that?” He straightened his shoulders. “I’m guessin’ he didn’t, did he? Too busy blaming the guy that’s been framed.”

  Interesting that he thought he’d been framed, but then again, what else would he have said? “What do you mean Coach Longley threatened Carter?”

  “I hear a lot of things around the halls. See and hear things others don’t. You know what I’m saying?”

  I thought I did, but I asked him to clarify anyway.

  “No one pays the janitor no mind. We’re invisible.”

  “What exactly did you hear or see between Mr. Longley and Mr. Trammell?”

  He shifted in his seat, and when he did, he grimaced. I empathized with him, but there wasn’t anything I could do on my end.

  “Heard Longley say Trammell didn’t deserve the job, that the job should be his. That he’d do what he had to do to prove that, too.”

  “That doesn’t exactly sound like a threat.”

  “That’s not the threatening part. The threatening part was when he said he’d rather see him dead than coachin’ his boys.”

  My stomach tensed. “You heard Coach Longley say that?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did you tell that to the sheriff?”

  He nodded again.

  “And what did Dy—he say?” I tried not to refer to Dylan in the personal sense when I talked about him in a professional way. I thought it took away from his credibility, and I definitely didn’t want that to happen given his re-election concerns of late.

  “Said my fingerprints were all over that needle, and I said course they were. I’d probably touched a hundred of those things in my job, and that one could have been months old. I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t wear gloves, and sometimes I do. I swept under the bleachers, but maybe it got lost under there, or it might have been one of the things I’d tried to pick up, but slipped away from me and I’d gotten distracted, so I just forgot about it, is all. Doesn’t mean I killed a man with it.”

  I wasn’t a trained professional, but even so, I knew there were all kinds of holes in his story, and I suspected Dylan knew it, too. That said, there was also enough circumstance to the situation that he could have been telling the truth, or at least I thought that might be the case. I really had no idea. “Mr. Yancy, with all due respect, you had an altercation with Mr. Trammell in front of what, a hundred people, where you threatened to kill him, so forgive me, but your story sounds shady at best.”

  “But it ain’t no lie.” He ran his one hand through his graying hair. “I love my kid, and I want a better life for him than I got, but I know killing a man ain’t the way to go about getting it for him. Did I cross the line the other night?” He nodded. “I did, yeah, but a man does that sometimes, ‘specially when his kid screws up and has to be the example when everybody else’s kid’s been doing the same thing and hasn’t had to suffer for it. You tell me how that’s fair.”

  “I never said it was, but things aren’t always fair, Mr. Yancy.”

  He pounded his fist on the table, and the sheriff’s deputy headed our direction. “It’s alright. I’m good,” Yancy said. He then directed his whispered comments toward me. “You think I don’t know that? Course I know that, but you got to understand, there’s a certain—” he paused. “What’s the word I’m looking for? It’s like a popularity thing. You know, the popular crowd gets first dibs at stuff, they’re the higher level of stuff first, and it happens with the parents too, and my kid, because of his parents, he’s low on the totem pole.”

  It’s actually high with respect to totem poles, but that was a cultural history lesson for another time. “I think you mean hierarchy?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. We ain’t high up on the hierarchy level in the lacrosse program even though my son is the best on the team, so no matter what we do, my kid don’t get no preferential treatment. The parents with the money, they get all the rewards, all the special treatment. That’s just how it works, you know what I’m saying?”

  I couldn’t see Carter Trammell behaving that way. He cared about the team as a whole, and about the success of the team. I sincerely doubted he was the kind to pick and choose favorites, but I couldn’t be certain. Besides, he hadn’t been around long enough to have that kind of opinion. He hadn’t even officially coached the team yet, so, how could he? I made that point to Yancy, but he didn’t agree.

  “The booster club had the man’s ear, or something else, that’s for sure. I saw him with that Ginnie Slappey all the time, whispering to each other. She was always in his office, always had her hand on his shoulder, all touchy-feely like. You ask me, there was a little of that hanky-panky goin’ on between the two of them. Of course I heard her say she was grateful he was going to let her son start. He’s the X attack position, the same as my son, so that’s when I figured out my Bobby wouldn’t be starting. He needs that play time to show the recruiters his skills for the scholarships, otherwise he may not get into a good college.”

  I found it hard to believe Carter Trammell would have an affair with a married woman. Then again, Ginnie Slappey hadn’t been wearing her wedding ring as of late. “Where does your son want to go to college?”

  “He wants to go to Duke, but with his grades, that’s a pipe dream. The only way he could is if he got a lacrosse scholarship, and the school worked with him to keep him in the program academically speaking, I mean.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I just don’t see Carter having any kind of relationship with someone like Ginnie Slappey, so I suspect it wasn’t what you think. And also, I spoke to Carter personally about the team, and his primary goal was to push the kids to succeed academically first and then athletically. Education was extremely important to Carter.”

  “Sure didn’t act like that.”

  “Maybe you saw things though tainted glasses?”

  “I don’t wear glasses.”

  I wanted to laugh because he didn’t get my idiom. “I understand, but I think you misunderstood his intentions.” I redirected our conversation. “Given your access to information, what do you think happened to Coach Trammell?”

  “I think he was murdered.”

  I glanced up at the clock. Dylan wouldn’t let me sit with Yancy all day, and I didn’t have all day to do it anyway. “Mr. Yancy, we’re on the same page there. I’m asking a more specific question. You mentioned that you’re privy to information others night not be. So, considering that, and since you’re part of the lacrosse program, and you’ve been at the meetings and such, can you tell me, other than Michael Longley, who would
have wanted him dead, and how would they have killed him?”

  I wouldn’t take his word as fact, but he had a point, I remembered we had a janitor when I went to high school, but I couldn’t tell you a thing about him. He was invisible. Yancy very likely did hear and see things with an ease others wouldn’t, and couldn’t, share. “If you had to guess, who would you say, within the lacrosse program, hated Coach Trammell enough to see him dead?”

  He placed his free hand on the table. “I already told you, Coach Longley.”

  I tapped my foot on the floor, hoping that would curb my impatience. “Anyone else?”

  “Yup. Probably the rest of the parents whose kids are at risk of being suspended from the team.”

  “And do you know who those are?”

  “Nope, but you might could find that out by talking to Coach Longley.”

  Unfortunately, I knew I’d have to do that again.

  The deputy sheriff walked over, tapping his finger on his watch. “Time to wrap it up.”

  “Okay,” I said, and stood to leave. “One more question, Mr. Yancy. Do you have any family members in the medical field, or know anyone in it?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  I nodded. “Thank you for talking with me. I appreciate it.”

  “I didn’t kill your friend, Miss Sprayberry,” Bobby Yancy said. “But for what it’s worth, you ought to watch your back around them lacrosse women. They ain’t the friends you think they are.”

  Chapter 7

  Dylan stopped me before I left the sheriff’s office. “Anything you care to share with me?”

  “Don’t you have work to do or something?”

  He kissed my forehead. “I’m in the middle of a murder investigation, but I always have a minute for the love of my life.”

  “You’re just using me for information.”

  He walked me to my car. “That, too.”

  “He made some good points.”

  “You still think he’s innocent?”

  “I’m not sure he’s guilty.”

  “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “I don’t know. Your whole, someone gave him the opportunity thing, though, I’m not sure I’m on board with that. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy that would act on impulse. When he was angry the other night, it was pretty clear he’d had that brewing for some time. I wouldn’t call that impulsive.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “Not in so many words, but he did tell me some other interesting things.”

  “Such as?”

  “For starters, he thinks Michael Longley could have killed Carter, and he said several other kids were going to be suspended from the team, so those parents should be looked into. And he led me to believe there was something going on between Ginnie Slappey and Carter.” I shook. “That grosses me out, but it would explain her lack of a wedding ring.”

  Dylan stopped short. “Ginnie Slappey’s getting divorced?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know, but next time you see her, check her ring finger. You’ll notice it’s missing something.”

  He nodded. “Interesting.”

  “I know, right? But really, do you see her as Carter’s type? I do not. She’s way too Southern for him.”

  “We live in the South, Lily. Most of the women here would have been way too southern for Carter Trammell.”

  I dismissed his comment with the flick of my hand. “Especially with her I do declares, and bless his hearts, and all those southernisms for the sake of being Southern. Who does that anyway? Heavens, I mean, seriously.”

  We reached my car, and Dylan just stared at me like I’d gone and lost my mind.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing, honey.”

  I dug my heels into the parking lot blacktop. “You are not comparing me to Ginnie Slappy.”

  “I am not comparing you to Ginnie Slappy,” he said in a flat tone.

  “Because if you are, you’re better off talking to a fence post.” I threw my hand up to my mouth. “Oh goodness. I’m her. I’m Ginnie Slappy, only younger.” I leaned against my car. “This is it. I’m officially one of those Southern women I promised myself I’d never be. Might as well get myself a yellow sundress and a pair of Candies. Dear Lord.” I flipped around and dramatically splayed out against my car, sighing for effect. I even pressed the back side of my hand against my forehead. “Heaven help me.”

  The side of his mouth twitched. “You’re not Ginnie Slappey. You’re prettier, and a heck of a lot smarter.”

  I turned back around and winked. “Well, thank you. It sure takes a lot to get a compliment from you.”

  “But you do have the same accent.”

  I smacked his arm. “Stop it. I’m ill.”

  He laughed. “On a more serious note, what’s your feeling about Yancy?”

  “Look at you, asking me my professional opinion about a criminal investigation.” I smiled. “I kind of love this.”

  “I’m not asking your professional opinion about an investigation, Lily. You’re not a professional. I’m asking for your personal impression of a man.”

  Dylan was a pin and me, a balloon. “Gee, thanks. As I said, he gave me reasons to think others could be just as interested in seeing Carter Trammell dead.” I unlocked my car with my electronic key fob, and then turned toward my boyfriend once again. “You know what really got me though?”

  “What?”

  “He said he’s invisible.”

  “Come again?”

  I pointed to him. “Exactly. He told me his position affords him the opportunity to see and hear things others don’t. I took it to mean that as a janitor, he’s not given a whole lot of respect, which is sad when you think about it, and that because of that, people just don’t see him, so he is privy to things others aren’t.”

  Dylan kept his eyes focused on mine. “Interesting.” He gave that some thought. “And did he give you any examples?”

  “Nothing that I haven’t already mentioned. He did warn me to watch my back around the lacrosse women. Said they weren’t really my friends.”

  “I didn’t know you considered them friends.”

  “I hadn’t, but if I had, I’d certainly question it now. His tone reflected serious caution, and I plan to snoop around to see why he feels that way.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Dylan, women don’t put it out there, verbally or not, that they don’t like someone without a reason. Bobby Yancy gave me a warning he felt I needed, and I’m going to find out why. It could be something as simple as they didn’t like my relationship with Carter Trammell, but you can bet your cute little cowboy hat I’ll figure it out.”

  “I have no doubt you will, Lily Sprayberry. No doubt whatsoever.”

  I got in my car then and waved goodbye.

  * * *

  I made a quick pit stop at Clarissa Mooney’s part time job, a local boutique called Gibson’s. She didn’t own the store, and I wasn’t sure she’d even be there, but it opened at ten o’clock, and it was just coming on that time, so I thought I’d stop by and see if she was there. I wanted to chat her up and get a feel for how she acted around me. Since we’d had limited engagement before, and it wasn’t all that great, but I hadn’t thought about the why behind it, I wanted to see how my approach to her impacted her attitude toward me. I figured she was as good of a place to start as any when it came to the lacrosse women. Plus, I wanted to get an update about the students in the lacrosse program and their grades, or anything she’d be willing to provide. If that was anything at all.

  Thankfully, another woman flipped the closed sign to open as soon as I walked up to the door. She opened it for me with a hey, how you doing greeting, and let me in.

  We chatted about nothing of substance for a bit, and I walked through the store pretending to shop, which ended up in actual shopping because Gibson’s had the most adorable, if not complete
ly useless items. I picked a piece of wood art that said I like big mutts and I cannot lie, and a coffee cup for Belle that said, Best Freaking Friend Ever, and didn’t even notice when Clarissa walked out of the back room and said hello.

  “Oh, hey, Clarissa.” I hadn’t expected to be caught off guard by the main reason I’d come to the boutique in the first place. “How’re you?”

  “I’m just a wreck over this whole sports thing, Lily. Have you talked to that sheriff boyfriend of yours again? Has he fixed things for the program yet?”

  The woman was nuttier than a fruit cake. One minute she was sweet as cherry pie, and the next minute she was sassy. She exhausted me. “Clarissa, this isn’t something the sheriff’s office can fix, you know that, don’t you? I mean, it’s a school issue. It’s not a legal one. The school wasn’t following the athletic association’s regulations, and there are consequences for that.”

  “Yes, but surely your boyfriend can do something. He’s the sheriff.”

  Bless her heart, she really wasn’t that bright. “What exactly do you expect him to do?”

  She shuffled her feet, and I half expected her to say something snarky, but she didn’t. “It’s all just a big mess, isn’t it? And that Ginnie Slappey, she’s so stuck up, she’d drown in a rainstorm. Making me do things no secretary in her right mind would ever do. Should ever do, really. Heavens, if I had a mind to, I’d report her to the association myself. I’m telling you, she’s like a slave driver at times. Do this, Clarissa. Do that, Clarissa. And now that poor Coach Trammell is dead, why, she’s just a hot mess.” She pulled on the sleeve of my pink cardigan and turned her body at an angle so she wasn’t facing me, but instead, facing the front of the store while she talked into my ear. “You’ve heard the rumors, right?”