by Liliana Hart
Coil gave final instructions, and made sure everyone had copies of the warrants, and then he dismissed them. Hank and Agatha joined Coil in his truck. The store wasn’t far out of town, and if they didn’t move quickly, word would spread about the warrant and Jim would be expecting them.
“How should we handle this?” Coil asked.
“Well,” Hank said, scratching his chin. “We’ve got his wife’s body, with proof she was murdered. Why don’t we just let him think we’ve got enough evidence to arrest him and see if he hangs himself.”
“That’s as good of a plan as any,” Coil said.
Coil’s phone rang and he answered, catching her gaze in the rearview as the news came through. She knew who it was before he said anything. And she knew what the answer was too. She broke eye contact and felt the tears prick her eyes.
“I’ll handle it,” she told him.
Hank and Coil both nodded, and Hank brought his hand back and squeezed her knee in comfort.
Coil pulled into the parking lot of the hardware store, and gravel and shell cracked and snapped beneath the weight of the vehicle. Coil rolled to a stop just outside the front entrance. There was no need to go in like gangbusters. Jim Brown was in his mid-sixties, and he was in moderate shape. He wasn’t a threat.
Agatha looked around the outside of the hardware store. There weren’t any other cars in the lot, and she breathed out a sigh of relief that they’d get to talk to him without making a scene for gossip.
Jim was waiting for them at the door as they made their way across the parking lot.
“Sheriff,” Jim said, nodding to them.
Jim Brown was around five feet and maybe six or seven inches tall with sandy colored hair that had thinned over the years. He was pale and there were sweat stains beneath his arms.
“Mind if we talk in your office?” Coil asked him.
“The store…” he said lamely.
Hank moved ahead and gently took Jim by the arm. He didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence before Agatha heard him quietly advising Jim Brown of his rights, and then he escorted Jim into the office and put him in one of the visitor chairs so Coil could take the big chair behind the desk.
“Jim,” Agatha said.” I’ve known you since I was a kid.”
“Sure,” he said, relaxing a little and looking at her. “I went to school with your parents.”
“Surely you’ve heard by now they found Carol’s body and confirmed her identity. But what I want to know is why?” Agatha asked. “Why would you involve poor Ms. Edna?”
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. There was sweat on his upper lip now, and he looked between all three of them.
No one moved. No one said anything. It was just Jim facing his own silence until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“She came to me,” he finally said. “Edna, I mean. She thanked me for looking out for her daughter. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. I’ve known her all my life, and I didn’t know she had any kids.”
Jim blew out a breath and looked at them with devastated eyes. “Edna saw what happened. She liked to go on these long walks all over town, and she saw what I’d done to Carol. I was panicked and wasn’t thinking clearly, and I took stupid chances and got caught.
“Edna walked right up to me and I thought it was over. It was an accident, I swear. But Edna told me she wasn’t going to tell anyone, and she helped me come up with a story and write the letter. She’s the one who suggested I build the greenhouse, insisting that her daughter loved to garden. I figured she was a few pebbles short of a rock garden because I knew she wasn’t Robin’s mama.”
Jim shrugged and lifted his hands, letting them drop helplessly on his knees. “I never meant for Edna to get involved, and I was always afraid she’d let something slip, especially as her mind started to go. But I figured that was probably the best cover I could have. No one would believe her if she did tell.”
“Why did you kill Carol?” Coil asked.
“I loved Robin,” he said. “Or at least I thought I did. She was something different. It turns out she wasn’t so great after we got married.”
“You could’ve just filed for divorce,” Agatha said.
“Carol said she’d take the store away from me and leave me with nothing. She found out about the affair, and I knew she was mad enough to take me to the cleaners in a divorce. I had to do something, but I didn’t mean to kill her. We got into an argument.”
“You hit her on the head hard enough to crack her skull,” Hank said unsympathetically.
Jim swallowed. “Like I said, it got out of control. And I could tell there was nothing I could do to save her. But she didn’t die right off.”
“So you shot her,” Coil said.
Jim nodded. “I knew she was suffering, and I didn’t want her to suffer.”
“You’re a real humanitarian,” Hank said harshly, making Jim flinch.
“Did Robin know?” Agatha asked
“No,” Jim said. “She was curious, but she never knew. I think in the end it was maybe her doubt that drove us apart. Or who knows, maybe Edna ran her mouth. She thought Robin was her daughter.”
“Robin was Edna’s daughter,” Agatha said. “She gave her up for adoption to the Byrds when Robin was a baby.”
“Well then, maybe Edna wasn’t as crazy as I thought she was,” Jim said.
Coil got to his feet. “Jim Brown, you’re under arrest for the murder of Carol Brown.”
Epilogue
The Rusty Gun War Heroes and Good Citizen’s Memorial Cemetery was quiet that Saturday afternoon. Surviving members of Carol Brown’s family scattered around the grounds. It was a place for friends and family, and for laying a daughter to rest after too many years. Carol’s mother sat alone in a metal lawn chair in front of a simple granite cross.
Hank and Agatha paid their respects, and then Hank took her and they walked along the rows of graves, including her parents. The trees provided a welcome shade, and the October air was pleasant. There was something peaceful about the cemetery.
“What’s going to happen to Edna?” Agatha asked.
“Coil is talking to the District Attorney about options. Honestly, the best thing for her would be to go into a specialized home. Darleen’s not taking good care of her, and she was an accessory to murder.
“I can’t imagine what she went through all those years, knowing Robin was her daughter and seeing her around town. It must have been a terrible secret for her to keep.”
“Are you thinking about Edna, or yourself?” Hank asked.
They stopped walking. “I guess I’m not really sure,” she said.
“You know your daughter is of age, and if you wanted to initiate contact you could.”
“I know,” Agatha said. “But that’s selfish. I don’t want to disrupt her life. She might not thank me. She might not know at all. What if she hates me for giving her up?”
“If she hates you, it’s only because she doesn’t know you. But the decision is yours. I’ll stand with you no matter what you decide.”
“I’ll think about it,” Agatha said, giving him a soft kiss. “You’re a good man, Hank Davidson.”
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Sneak Peek: Gone With The Wind
Tuesday
Agatha Harley loved Rusty Gun, Texas. She loved the quaint scenery and simple way of life, and she loved the quirks of the people who lived there. For the most part.
The Kettle Café was jam-packed with the early morning breakfast crowd, and Agatha and her best friend, Heather Cartright, were in their usual booth having breakfast. They
tried to get together once a week to stay caught up on the goings-on in Rusty Gun, but since Heather’s unfortunate run-in with the law after her ex-husband’s murder, she’d spent the last several months traveling and flitting back to town whenever she started to miss her current boy toy too much.
Breakfast had been going well until The Daughters of the American Revolution showed up for their monthly meeting. They took up a long table on the other side of the restaurant, but they weren’t being quiet about the topic of their meeting.
Agatha gritted her teeth at the screeching sound of her archenemy’s voice. Dot Williams owned the Glamour Shots and Nail Salon across the street, and she’d decided somewhere along the way to make it her life’s mission to get Sheriff Reggie Coil out of office. Since Agatha and Coil were good friends, and she didn’t particularly care for people spewing lies and being obnoxious in general, there had been a small confrontation in the salon that had led to a lot of yellow, and the possibility of a middle finger thrown in Dot’s direction. Though no one could prove it, and she was sticking by that.
“It’s time for a change in this county,” Dot said, her voice carrying across the restaurant. “As a longstanding Daughter of the American Revolution, and weekend volunteer down at The Rusty Gun War Heroes and Good Citizen’s Memorial Cemetery, we deserve an explanation. This place has gone to hell in a handbasket. Criminals and looting all over the place. And who’s fault is it?” She didn’t give anyone a chance to answer. “Our very own Sheriff Coil, of course. The most incompetent man I’ve ever met.”
Agatha felt the rage bubbling inside of her. She should’ve cancelled her breakfast with Heather. Her mood had been volatile. Whether it was hormones or something else, there was something simmering inside of her that she couldn’t explain, and it made her all the more angry.
Several of Dot’s DAR sisters cheered her on and clapped in agreement.
“Who let that lunatic in here?” Agatha asked, letting her voice carry just like Dot was doing.
Heather laughed, but she shifted in her seat, looking a little nervous.
“Lunatic?” Dot screeched, coming over to stand near their table. The whole restaurant was staring at her now. “Your sheriff is allowing grave robbers to ruin this town’s proud historic heritage. Maybe that outlaw gang he associates with don’t care about that kind of thing, but we’re law abiding citizens here in Rusty Gun, and we expect our elected officials to be the same.”
“Are you taking our order?” Heather asked Dot. “I’ll take the pancakes. Extra syrup.”
Dot scowled at Heather. “Why don’t you go find another husband to kill?”
Heather started to come to her feet. “Why don’t you kiss my…”
“Heather,” Agatha said, putting her hand on her friend’s wrist. “She’s not worth it. Running her mouth about this election is probably the only attention she’s seen in sixty years.”
Dot gasped. “I’m only forty-eight. Who do you think you are, Agatha Harley?”
“I know who I am,” Agatha said. “And I’m not trying to ruin a good man’s reputation just because I’m shacking up with his opponent. Because that’s surely the only reason you’d be supporting Oddie McElroy. The man’s dumber than a box of hair.”
Agatha didn’t know what was wrong with her. This wasn’t like her at all, but she couldn’t seem to stop it now that the ball had started rolling. She didn’t even flinch when Dot’s hand snapped out and slapped her across the cheek.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” Agatha hissed. “I will cut you off at the knees.”
“Don’t you threaten me,” Dot said. “I ain’t afraid of you. You think no one can touch you because you’re some hot shot writing and sleeping with the entire police department? I’ve got news for you, sister.”
The glass of orange juice was in her hand before she realized it, and she tossed it in Dot’s face. “Try me, sister.”
“That’s enough,” Sheriff Coil said.
The place fell dead silent, and Coil’s gaze zeroed in on Dot and Agatha in the corner.
“Meeting’s over, ladies,” he said. “I want you out of here. If you can’t have a meeting in a public place without causing a disturbance, then you need to have it on public property.”
“Well,” Dot said, coming up to her full height. “I never…”
“Now would be a good time to keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told,” Coil said, giving her a hard look. “Or you’ll be having DAR meetings from behind bars.”
The ladies at the table scrambled to their feet and rushed out the door. Dot looked like she wanted to argue more, but something in Coil’s face must’ve warned her not to try. She straightened her shoulders and marched past him and out the door.
The waitress rushed over with a cloth and cleaned up the orange juice.
“Sorry about that,” Agatha told her.
“It’s worth the price of the show,” the waitress said, grinning. “She’s a terrible tipper. I was kind of hoping you’d deck her.”
“Maybe next time,” Agatha said.
Coil came up to the table and took off his tattered Stetson, hanging it on one of the hooks that were at the top of each booth.
“What in the world was that about?” Coil asked
“Agatha was protecting your honor,” Heather said. Then her gaze moved over to Deputy Karl Johnson and warmed. Agatha hadn’t even seen Karl come in. “Look at my little brown bear. So handsome.”
Karl grinned and took the hand Heather had held out to him, and Agatha rolled her eyes and shared a pained look with Coil.
“Dot said something about a grave robbery over at the cemetery,” Agatha said. “And then she said something about you being corrupt and not law-abiding and then she slapped me, so I threw juice in her face. I really wanted to break her face though.”
“Well, if she slapped you first then this would’ve been the time to do it,” Coil said.
“I know you’re not worried about the politics,” Agatha said. “But if historic graves are being desecrated then Dot’s going to be able to get people riled up.”
Coil waved a hand in dismissal. “There’s a lot of time left before the election. I was on my way to meet Hank here for breakfast when I saw an MMA fight breaking out.”
“Hold on a sec,” Heather said, raising her index finger. “If y’all are about to talk shop, then I’m out of here. I’ve had enough of the police for one lifetime.”
“What about Karl?” Agatha said, chuckling.
“Oh, he doesn’t count,” she said. “He’s my little brown bear. Besides, when we play cops and robbers he lets me use the cuffs.”
Coil cringed and shot Karl a look, and if had been possible for Karl to blush, he would’ve been the color of a tomato.
“You’re on duty,” Coil said. Karl clearly needed the reminder.
“Come on, sugar buttons,” Heather said, scooting out of the seat. “You can walk me to my car.”
Coil sighed and rubbed a finger against his temple. “Running a police department is very similar to running a daycare. It’s like dealing with children all day long, only the children I’m dealing with carry firearms.”
“Which is a comforting tidbit of knowledge,” Agatha said.
Her attention was caught by Hank coming through the front door, and she stopped and stared as he made his way across the room. For a big man, he moved like a ghost. Agatha always got a kick out of how people stopped talking and stared at him. There was something about Hank’s presence that was intimidating, and most people shied away from him, but she was drawn to him.
“Good morning,” Hank said, scooting into the booth next to Agatha. “What’d I miss? I just passed a bunch of women on the street who are mad as hatters. I thought for a second they were going to start a riot.”
“Don’t discount that option quite yet,” Coil said.
“I’m not going to be so nice next time,” Agatha said. “I should’ve decked her.” She needed to go home. Her emotions ha
d already been churning, and Dot had just made things worse.
“Come on now, Aggie,” Hank teased, “She’s done nothing to you but choose another candidate for Reggie’s job.”
“You can be blasé about it now, but it’ll be a different story when your boy here is out of a job come May.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Coil said, taking a sip of his piping black coffee.
“You know what I mean,” Agatha said, waving her hand. “People like Dot Williams and Oddie McElroy don’t play fair. It’ll be a down and dirty election. Nevermind all that. Why don’t you tell me what’s going down at the graveyard?”
“Looks like we had some vandals who got carried away with two of the gravesites,” Coil said. “They dug the coffins up and looted them.”
“You still thinking it was high schoolers?” Hank asked.
“Not sure,” Coil replied. “It’s kind of close to Christmas, so burglaries increase. It’s not uncommon for people to look for valuables to steal and pawn, but I don’t know if that’s what this is.”
“Can you see the skeletons?” Agatha asked, fascinated.
“Sure can,” Coil said. “You’re talking the eighteen sixties, so there’s not a whole lot left in there.”
Agatha’s imagination ran wild with story ideas. “I’d love to see them.”
“I’m heading out there after breakfast,” Hank said. “You’re welcome to come with me as long as…”
“As long as what?” she asked.
“As long as you promise not to punch anyone in the face,” he said. “Maybe you’ve had too much coffee this morning.”
“There’s no such thing,” Agatha said, and took another sip.
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