FURever Bound

by Patricia Fry

  Savannah suggested more gently, “Gail, are you sure you’re not in denial about your father? Of course you want lovely memories of your parents, but think of the pastor’s family. You’re seeking answers and closure in Ronnie’s disappearance. They’ve probably been doing the same. You’d want someone to tell you if they knew something about your loved one, wouldn’t you?”

  Finally, Gail said, “I’ll think about it.”

  Savannah spoke more sternly. “Gail, it’s not up to you. It’s up to Adele, and Adele, I hope you’ll do the right thing. Someone could be serving time right now for something he didn’t do.”

  Gail put her hands to her mouth in horror. “My gosh, I’d never thought of that.” She glanced at Savannah and grimaced. “You’re right. We all need to start doing the right thing instead of trying to cover up lies and deceitful behavior.”

  ****

  “So Craig,” Savannah said into the phone later,” did you talk to Adele?”

  “Sure did. And she’s right. The man buried in the Allens’ backyard is the long-missing Pastor Adrian Simlin. The sad thing is, someone else is serving a prison term, all because of the Allen men’s testimony.”

  “Oh my gosh. Those awful, twisted, poor-excuse-for-human beings!” Savannah spat. “Did they have no conscience?”

  “I guess they didn’t.”

  “So how did they frame that poor guy?” she asked.

  “Oh it was rather complicated, but it all boiled down to eyewitness testimony. The Allens claimed they saw this other man harassing and threatening the pastor. They chose the perfect scapegoat, because the man had publicly criticized the pastor a few times.”

  “Why?” Savannah asked.

  “It had something to do with a neighborhood dispute. This dude lived near the church, and he was angry because the church bought the lot between them and planned to turn it into a parking lot. He and other neighbors fought against it and lost. This guy couldn’t let it go. His mouth got him into trouble—trouble he evidently didn’t ask for or deserve.”

  “Hmmm. Sounds like everyone involved in that fiasco was a bit off their rocker.” She shuddered. “Darn angry people.” She then asked, “Craig, did you find a statue in the grave?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know? Looks like it was the murder weapon.”

  “That’s what Adele said.”

  “If only she’d come forward back then,” he lamented.

  “She was just a child,” Savannah said in Adele’s defense.

  “Yeah, that she was,” he agreed.

  She continued, “And since the subject never came up again, she had no reason to believe what she saw was even real.” Savannah was quiet for a moment, then asked, “So how could they convict someone without a body?”

  “Good question. I don’t know what the testimony was back then, but I suppose, like I said, the conviction pretty much hinged on the supposed eyewitnesses.” He paused. “Yeah, it would be interesting to know how they got a conviction without a body. I mean, it happens, but not all that easily.”

  “So will the wrongly convicted man be released?”

  “Yeah, just in time for his eighty-second birthday. He spent almost his entire adult life in prison for something he didn’t do because of a lying…”

  “Yeah, I get the picture, Craig. What a sad, sad situation for him and his family.” She chuckled. “But maybe this turn of events has taught him to simmer down and behave more civilly.”

  He chuckled. “One can only hope. Hey, how’s Gail? She seems to be saddled with one guilt burden after another because of her crazy father and brother. I’d sure like to get my hands on Tyrone Allen.”

  “Oh, Craig, that reminds me; when I spoke with Tom Rollins he told me that Tyrone has been seen here in town a few times over the years, mainly around the old Allen furniture store building.”

  “Oh?” he said, skeptically. “Who claims they’ve seen him?”

  “Mr. Rollins’s brother, Johnny, who’s homeless.”

  “Get me as much information as you can,” Craig instructed. “I’m going after that scumbag.”

  “Craig,” Savannah warned. But he had already ended the call.

  ****

  “Hi, there,” Savannah said two days later when she joined Gail in front of the Allen home. “Looks like things are really coming together.”

  “Yes, my nephews cleaned the porch yesterday and did some repairs.” She pointed. “They even replaced the missing shutters. I love seeing the old place take on its original charm.”

  “And I see you’ve been to the nursery,” Savannah said, eyeing a row of flowering shrubs in pots, waiting to be planted. “It’s shaping up nicely.”

  Gail nodded. “Thank you. I know I was premature in buying plants, but I’ll wait to put them in after the painters have finished the outside.” She leaned down to engage someone else. “Hello, Rags. Come to check out my new digs?”

  “I thought I’d walk over, and he wanted to come with me.”

  Gail smiled. “He likes going for walks, does he?” She chuckled. “Even at the end of a leash?”

  “Oh yes,” Savannah said. “He seems to know when I plan a walk or when I’m leaving in the car. He likes car rides, but he’s especially interested when he thinks I’m going for a walk.”

  Amused, Gail asked, “What does he do to let you know he wants to join you?”

  “He gets underfoot, plays with my shoestrings while I’m putting on my shoes, dances around where we hang his harness. If I still don’t pay attention to him, he blocks my exit. Yeah, he knows how to communicate his wishes and desires, that’s for sure.”

  Gail laughed. “And he knows how to get his way, it seems.”

  “Yes he does,” Savannah agreed.

  Gail ruffled Rags’s fur, then stood up. “Hey, come check out the floor. Your husband did a marvelous job.”

  “He said it wasn’t a difficult project.” Savannah and Rags walked with Gail up the steps into the house and she closed the door behind them.

  Gail turned the lock. When she saw Savannah’s inquisitive look, she explained, “It’s a habit. Sorry.”

  “No,” Savannah protested, “it’s a good habit to get into.” She scrutinized the new subflooring. “That looks like it’ll work. So much safer for you and the kitties while you’re waiting to find matching flooring.” She noticed a cat sitting in the hallway. “Oh there’s Arial. Hi, girl. How’re you doing?”

  “They love having all this space,” Gail reported. “They’re happy, happy kitties, and I’m a happy mom.”

  “How’s Blackie adjusting?” Savannah asked.

  “Like he’s always had a roof over his head. Yeah, he’s doing great.” She grabbed Savannah’s arm. “Hey, come look at the kitchen. I think it’s a working kitchen now. I’m eager to go to the grocery store and buy ingredients for a real meal—no more heating up ramen or scrambling eggs for supper.” With growing enthusiasm she said, “I’m going to sauté veggies in my wok, poach salmon, make twice-baked potatoes and all those other neat things I’ve been reading about for years.”

  “Cool,” Savannah said. She looked around. “This is very nice. Will you replace the linoleum?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably down the line, but this will do for now.” She giggled. “I picked out wallpaper for the dinette area. How fun is that?”

  “That area screams for wallpaper. Good job.”

  “Yeah,” Gail agreed, “that’s what Iris told me.”

  “Let me see your room,” Savannah suggested.

  “Yes, come, come,” Gail said excitedly.

  Savannah glanced around in Gail’s bedroom. “Very nice.”

  “I plan more changes and additions. Iris is going to help me create my dream bedroom. Heck, I may never want to leave it once I fix it up.”

  Both women laughed. Savannah lurched when Rags suddenly pulled on the leash.

  “Take that off him,” Gail suggested. “He can’t get out.”

  “But he can get into trou
ble,” Savannah warned.

  “Never mind that.” Gail unfastened the leash. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Be a good boy, Rags,” Savannah called when he darted into the hallway.

  Gail showed off the carefully decorated bathroom, then the two women moved back into the living room. “The painters are coming tomorrow,” she said. “They thought they could finish the inside within a couple of days, then I’ll have the upholstered furniture deep-cleaned and get people in to measure for window coverings. Oh, and I’ll have the floors done. I’ll have to buy a fridge sooner rather than later, because my old one’s starting to act up.”

  Savannah chuckled. “It’s always something when you’re a homeowner.”

  Just then Gail started laughing. “What do you have, Rags?” she asked. “Find a treasure?”

  Savannah gasped. “Oh, Rags, give me that. What is it, anyway?”

  “Probably a grocery list or something,” Gail deduced.

  Rags dropped the piece of paper and Savannah picked it up. She handed it to Gail. “It’s an old receipt.”

  Gail looked at it briefly. “Yeah, I wonder where it came from—maybe the trash.” She giggled. “Does he dig in the trash?”

  “Not usually,” Savannah said. She squinted. “Looks like something’s written on the back of it. What does it say?”

  Gail turned the receipt over and read, “Ronnie…” She gasped and looked up at Savannah. Her voice weak and wavering, she continued, “…meet me behind the furniture store at midnight, Gail.”

  “Oh, you and Ronnie were planning a rendezvous, were you?” Savannah teased.

  Gail shook her head. “No. I didn’t write this. Oh my gosh, what does this mean? Savannah, I know I didn’t write this. I never would have gone out to meet him late like that. I just wouldn’t. I didn’t have the courage. Sure, we met secretly, but never at midnight. I was too afraid of getting into trouble.” She lowered her eyes. “My father was strict, especially about Ronnie, and Mama was really sick. She died right around that time—exactly a week after Ronnie…” Gail choked up.

  “That’s rough,” Savannah said wincing. “Really rough.” She asked, “Hey, where’s that receipt from? Is there a date on it?”

  Gail scrutinized the piece of paper. “A dry cleaner. Do you remember when businesses used to give hand-written receipts? You’re probably too young. You were born in the computer age.” She strained to read the date on the receipt. “It’s really faint.” She moved closer to a window and squinted down at the writing. “Looks like four, twenty-eight, nineteen seventy-three.” She looked up at Savannah. “Ronnie went missing in early June.”

  “Gail,” Savannah said, “that note might have been written the day he went missing on a receipt that was—what—two months old. I need to give that to the detective.”

  Gail gripped the note and stared hard at Savannah. “No,” she spat. “This could implicate me or someone else from my family.”

  Gravely, Savannah said, “Gail, I would be shocked if it implicated anyone outside your family. Don’t you think everything points to your brother having something to do with Ronnie’s disappearance?”

  Gail slumped and nodded. “Or my father,” she said weakly. “I mean, Skipper’s missing, too.”

  Savannah was quiet, finally saying, “Gail, is that true?”

  “What?” she asked brusquely.

  Savannah stared at Gail, trying to decide if she should continue. “Is he really missing, or do you know where he is?” When Gail didn’t respond, she pushed. “You’ve seen your brother since Ronnie disappeared, haven’t you? He’s come here to see you, hasn’t he? To threaten you? Is he the one who hurt you a couple of weeks ago?” When Gail broke down in tears, Savannah asked, “Why, Gail? Why didn’t you turn him in?”

  “They closed the case,” Gail said between sobs. “They weren’t actually looking for Skipper…” she sniffled, “…or Ronnie.”

  Savannah raised her voice. “But he was assaulting you!” After a few moments, Savannah sighed deeply and sat down next to Gail on the sofa. “Don’t you think it’s time you let yourself out of the prison you’ve created?” When Gail looked up at her, she said, “You’ve taken a giant step by moving up here, but I sense that you know something that’s still holding you hostage. You’re living in fear. It’s time to let it go.” She thought for a moment before saying, “Gail, there’s something you need to do, isn’t there?”

  Gail nodded and dabbed at her face with a tissue. “I suppose. Yes, I’ve been living with an awful secret, and I realize it’s holding me, as you say, prisoner. Yes, Savannah, I want to be free. I have to force myself to learn the truth, even if it hurts.”

  “Learn the truth? You don’t know?”

  Gail shook her head. “No. I have reason to suspect my family, but I don’t know for sure what happened.” She looked at Savannah, her eyes refilling with tears. “Okay, I’ll tell what I know.” Her voice distorted by emotion, she said, “I have to finally be free of the burden.”

  “Absolutely” Savannah said. “I think your happiness—your sanity, even—depends on it.” She held out her hand. “So, will you let me give that note to the detective?”

  Gail nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” She started to say something else, but was interrupted by the sound of the front door rattling. She and Savannah looked at one another. Then they heard a loud rap at the door.

  “Who could that be?” Gail questioned, abruptly standing up.

  “A door-to-door salesman?” Savannah joked. She then said, “Probably your cousin. Want me to get it?”

  Gail nodded. “Okay.”

  “Who are you?” the stranger demanded when Savannah opened the door. He looked beyond her into the room and barged his way in. “Hi, Sis. The door was locked. You trying to keep your big brother out?”

  “Skipper,” Gail gasped. “This is no longer your home. In fact, I’ve moved your stuff out.”

  “Why’d you do that?” he shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were opening up the house? You aren’t planning to live here, are you? You can’t do that, you know. Legally, you can’t do that without my say-so.”

  “How was I supposed to tell you? I don’t know where you stay,” she complained. “Besides, it’s been forty years since you’ve had any interest in this place, except to harass me!” More loudly she said, “Skipper, just leave, will you? I want you out of here, now!”

  When Savannah saw him move toward Gail, his eyes filled with anger, she stuffed the note into her pocket and retreated to the kitchen, where she pulled out her phone. “Craig,” she whispered, when he answered.

  “What?” he snapped. “Speak up, I’m driving; I can’t hear you.”

  “Craig, Tyrone Allen’s here at Gail’s house,” she hissed. “We found more evidence linking him to…”

  “Got it,” he said. “I’m on my way. Don’t let him in.”

  When Savannah heard Tyrone’s voice booming from the hallway, she said, “Too late, Craig. Hurry!”

  Savannah pocketed her phone and returned to the living room, where Gail stood quivering. The women watched as Tyrone disappeared into his former bedroom. Seconds later, he bolted back out the door toward them. He stopped when he saw Savannah standing protectively in front of Gail. “Who the hell are you?” he bellowed.

  “Gail’s friend. Listen, I think you should leave. This is her home now…”

  “What do you know about it?” he snarled. He reached past Savannah and grabbed Gail’s wrist. “Where’s the will? I came for what’s mine and that’s half this house and whatever was in the bank.”

  “Skipper,” Gail said, trying to sound calm, “I have an estate attorney. His name’s Welch. Go see him; he’ll give you what’s yours. I don’t have access to…”

  “Don’t lie to me, you little good-for-nothing…”

  “Leave her alone!” Savannah asserted. When she moved toward him, he let go of Gail and reached for her, but she was able to block him with her arms long enough to try a maneu
ver she’d learned in a self-defense class. She lifted a knee at just the right time and place to disable him for at least a few minutes.

  He was livid. When he recovered enough, he angrily grabbed at Savannah again, but before he could put his hands on her, something hit him hard across one shoulder. Instantly, he felt piercing pain and he screamed, “Oh, God! What is that? Get it off me! Get it off me!”

  “What’s all the commotion?” Craig asked, bursting through the open front door. He squelched a chuckle. Lowering his handgun, he said, “Well, if it ain’t my partner, doing his job like any professional police cat would.”

  “Cat?” Tyrone shouted. “That ain’t no cat! It’s a badger or a wolverine. Get it off me!” he bellowed.

  Savannah looked at Craig and he calmly nodded, so she lifted Rags off the man and snuggled with the cat. “Good boy,” she whispered. She took hold of Gail’s arm and led her to the other side of the living room.

  Gail closed the front door and watched as Craig cuffed her brother and pushed him down on a straight-back chair.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” Craig asked.

  “Who are you?” Tyrone demanded.

  “If you don’t cooperate,” Craig said, “I’m your worst nightmare. I need to see your ID. Where is it?”

  Tyrone sat quietly staring ahead.

  “Tell me where it is or I’ll dig for it myself,” Craig said, “and you won’t find it a pleasant experience.” When Tyrone remained quiet, Craig said, “Savannah, bring the cat here, will you?”

  “No!” he shouted. “Okay, I’m Tyrone Allen. What of it? I came here to get what’s mine—what I deserve.”

  “Oh, you’re going to get exactly what you deserve, Mr. Allen.” Craig glanced at the others, then took Tyrone’s arm. “Let’s go down to the station and have a little talk, shall we?”

  “I don’t have nothing to say,” Tyrone insisted. “I didn’t do nothing.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” Craig looked back at the women, tipped his head, and said, “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Craig, there’s something else,” Savannah said. She reached into her pocket, retrieved the note, and handed it to Craig. “Rags found this,” she nodded in Tyrone’s direction, “in his room, I believe.” She glanced at Gail. “She says she’s never seen it before and knows she didn’t write it.”