Word Has It (Wordplay Mysteries Book 1)

by Julie B. Cosgrove

Another shiver danced up her spine. She covered the board with a towel and slid it back on top of the fridge. Then she texted Evelyn and Betty Sue to come over . . . NOW.

  Chapter Eight

  Betty Sue’s face froze in a half-shocked, half-curious pose. Evelyn reported that half the town had already trekked up to Woodway, only to be turned away by not only the town’s policemen but the county sheriff’s patrol arriving on the scene.

  “How do you know this?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I have my sources.”

  Wanda handed her a tumbler of unsweetened iced tea and Betty Sue one with two packets of stevia stirred in, the way Betty Sue liked it. She also knew her best friend liked thin crust pizza with spinach, mushrooms, and bacon, and that at sixty-four she was a closet Toby Mac fan, and she had a mild heartthrob for one of the detectives on a British mystery series. The same one Wanda watched on PBS. She also knew where Betty Sue hid her diaries from high school and college and remembered most of the content of her prayer journals. After all, they had been friends since third grade, gone on double dates in high school, and been each other’s honor attendants at their weddings.

  Wanda knew less about Evelyn, the newcomer, who had only lived there about ten years or so. Her favorite dish was the Irish stew at the Hook & Owl, which she stated to be just like her grandmother’s recipe from the old country. A Hank Williams fan, she had most of his albums and CD’s, and she was widowed in the Shock and Awe era in her thirties, never remarrying.

  Betty Sue sat across from her. “She was over at Hazel’s, pumping her for more info on the Ferguson place when things went down. That’s the correct term isn’t it?” She passed her gaze to Evelyn.

  “Yes. My late husband always said you learn a lot if you let people talk. They will develop a trust if they can lead the conversation and then will open up more.” She scooted forward in her chair. “Hazel has been wondering if she had been imagining things or not. Twice this week, for no apparent reason, she woke from a sound sleep, and looked out her bedroom window. It is on the second floor and is angled to where you can see the both the front and back of the Ferguson place when the trees have not quite leafed out.”

  “What did she see?” Wanda leaned in closer.

  “Tonight, or in the past night?”

  Wanda and Betty Sue said, “Both,” in unison.

  “Well,” Evelyn settled back with a dramatic pause and took a long gulp of tea.

  Betty Sue rubbed her nose, a nervous habit she had developed early in life when allergies plagued her. She’d outgrown most of them.

  “When she gazed out her window on the first night, she thought she saw someone scooting through the back lawns to the woods. But then again it could have been the tree limbs moving in the breeze.”

  “I thought the same thing Friday night as I walked Sophie.”

  “Really? Well, the second night, she was more certain she saw a man at the edge of the woods, but he disappeared back in them before she got a good look.”

  “Did she tell the police?” Betty Sue rubbed her nose again.

  “She saw a police car turning onto 8th from Oak and ran downstairs to wave it over.” Evelyn’s eyes shifted to Wanda. “It was Todd’s shift.”

  “And he never said a word.”

  “Why would he, Wanda? Nothing came of it. She said he called her later the next morning to tell her he had driven by several more times and never noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

  “What about tonight? What did y’all see?”

  “We were on her back patio enjoying the fireflies and a cup of cinnamon vanilla latte from her fancy brewer when we heard the shot echo. Boom. We both stared at each other, wondering the same thing. Gunfire? Outside of hunting season?”

  “What did you do?” Betty Sue grabbed a paper napkin and dabbed her nose in earnest.

  “We dashed back inside, of course. By the time we went to peer through her living room bay window, we could hear the sirens and see the squad car lights. Didn’t you two hear a thing?”

  “I had the TV on. I watch the PBS murder mysteries on Sunday nights.” Betty Sue dipped her head like a teenage girl confessing she liked a boy in her class. “That detective is kinda cute. Something about his accent. I like the dog, too.”

  The other two ladies nodded.

  “Earlier, Todd and I were playing Scrabble while chomping on onion rings and fries from Better Burger then he got a call and told me Carl had shot the guy.” She waggled her finger. “Don’t give me that disgusted look Betty Sue. For your information, I also had steak fingers with gravy and Texas Toast.”

  “Wanda, all that salt and carbs. Why, you’ll bloat up like a pig on a skewer at a luau.”

  “Lovely image. Thanks.”

  Betty Sue swallowed some tea. “I worry about your diet.”

  “You mean that I am not constantly on one like you?”

  “No.” She slammed the glass down. “Because you are my dearest friend, and I want you to live a lot longer.”

  “Ladies.” Evelyn held up her hands. “Back to the shooting?”

  The two friends glanced at each other, mouthed the word ‘sorry,’ and then turned their attention back to Evelyn.

  “Go on, Ev. What happened next?” Wanda leaned forward, focused on her friend’s face.

  “Well, then the police ran into the woods. And after the crowd began to gather, they roped off a section with that yellow tape. More cop cars arrived on the scene, one from Cleburne along with the county sheriff’s truck. Drove right into the Ferguson driveway and across the back lawn. Then the county coroner’s van showed up. About fifteen minutes later, as we were being shooed away from the curbs on 8th street, Carl Smithers came out handcuffed, led by Jimmy Bob, the other patrol officer in town, to the squad car. As they drove away, Todd helped wheel a body on a gurney out of the woods and into the van.”

  “Dead?” Betty Sue gasped.

  “Yep. Unless they now zip people in black bags for some sort of weird oxygen treatment.”

  Betty Sue scrunched her nose.

  Wanda stifled a chuckle. “And that’s it?”

  “That’s it. Everyone dispersed and went home.” Evelyn folded her hands in her lap like a final punctuation mark.

  “You think it was one of the thieves?” It had to be. That was the most logical thought. At least, the most logical to Wanda.

  “Well, that would make the most sense. Don’t ya think?” Evelyn harrumphed. “I figure they got antsy hiding out. One tried to sneak out of the woods, but Carl spotted him.”

  “Or maybe one of them wanted the jewelry all for himself and tried to leave with it. So, Carl saw him running, thought he was escaping, and shot him, thinking he was doing his duty. You know how he is. Always wants to be the big shot.” Betty Sue put her hand to her mouth when she realized her pun.

  Evelyn turned to Wanda. “She does have a point.”

  The three remained silent for a few moments.

  Then Wanda sucked in a breath.

  “What?” Evelyn pushed her eyebrows together.

  “The Scrabble words. The set with jewels and escape and perp? The others were “lying” and “woods” so I thought it meant the house lying near the woods, not a body lying in the woods. Or is it laying?”

  Her friends both stared at her.

  She waved the thought away like a gnat buzzing her face. “Anyway, tonight when we continued the game. Look what we spelled.” She grabbed the board from its perch on top of the fridge and removed the dish towel cover.

  Betty Sue rubbed her hands together. “Well, well. Look at that. Bushes, shot, cave, auto. Hmmm. I get bushes and shot. But there are no caves around here, are there? And auto?’

  “I don’t recall any stories about caves growing up.” Wanda titled her head to read the board again. “Maybe it has a double meaning?”

  “Or this is all a coincidence. Doesn’t the Bible say something about being wary of the devil’s schemes?” Evelyn crossed her arms.

  “Tr
ue. But we were playing an innocent word game not having a seance.”

  Betty Sue let out a small gasp. “Wanda, you think Todd is wondering the same thing?”

  She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. But I don’t think I am going to get much sleep tonight.”

  “No one is.” Evelyn ran her hands up and down her arms.

  Wanda resisted the urge to do the same, though goose pimples were beginning to coat her shoulders. “Why? Because we rarely have a shooting?”

  “Well, there is that. But I’m wondering.” Evelyn sighed. “There were three burglars, right? Where are the other two?”

  Betty Sue didn’t answer. Wanda had no idea either, but the sensation of someone tiptoeing over her grave began again.

  No make that more like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers tap dancing on it.

  Chapter Nine

  Wanda stayed up late, but Todd never called. She figured booking Carl, getting his statement, and whatever else they did, took time. He probably was still at it or decided it was too late to disturb her.

  She lay awake staring at the shadows on the ceiling caused by the breeze tickling the tree limbs. The food lay like a pallet of bricks in her gut, but the word play choices swirled in her brain like cotton candy being made on a stick at the county fair.

  Another fact stuck in her thoughts. The two had played these words in order of the events. Weird. Did “cave” and “auto” relate to events yet to come?

  She threw off the covers and grabbed her phone to text Todd. Heard about the shooting. Matches some of our last Scrabble words. Don’t you agree?

  Go to sleep, Aunt Wanda. We’ll talk over lunch tomorrow. Sally’s at 1?

  Ok. Goodnight.

  She huffed out a long sigh and decided to read some of the Psalms. She had made a pact with her Bible study group to read one a day for the next seven weeks, beginning with the first. Then each week, they’d discuss what they had read.

  Sophie hopped up her doggy stairs at the foot of the bed and settled in with her.

  “What? You want me to read them out loud?” She stroked her pup’s velvety floppy ears. She began with Psalm 7, where David thanks God for His protection and provisions. Then she stopped when she read,

  Lord my God, if I have done this and there is guilt on my hands—if I have repaid my ally with evil or without cause have robbed my foe—then let my enemy pursue and overtake me; let him trample my life to the ground and make me sleep in the dust.

  Huh? Betty Sue’s scenario floated through her head. Had one of the thieves tried to steal from the others and sneak off into the night, only to be caught and shot by Carl? She shook it off and kept reading.

  The next verses were all about God coming to David’s aid and defeating his enemies, a common theme in the psalms. Then began another strange set of verses.

  Whoever is pregnant with evil conceives trouble and gives birth to disillusionment. Whoever digs a hole and scoops it out falls into the pit they have made. The trouble they cause recoils on them; their violence comes down on their own heads.

  Wanda set the Bible down. The only one in town who had been pregnant was Ester Mae. No way. She had the voice of an angel, could play the organ like no one’s business, and was as squeaky clean as they come. Besides, she’d had her baby. It had to mean something else.

  Wanda scanned the words again. Uh, oh.

  Is that what she was doing? Was she spreading disillusionment? Did word of forming a neighborhood watch somehow get back to the thieves and spook them?

  Had her good intentions gotten Carl so riled up that he took action into his own hands in an attempt to gain favor from the community? Had she unknowingly brought violence down on Scrub Oak’s head?

  Bible study was at ten in the morning. Dare she bring this up? Or would they all look at her weird? Maybe she should meet with her pastor first.

  After a night of restlessness, Wanda decided that an extra strong coffee and a bit of common sense was in order. She dug the bag of Kenyan coffee from the back of the pantry. Hazel had given it to her and to each of the other members of the beautification committee for Christmas in a Santa mug along with a candy cane. Roses were not blooming then of course.

  One sip and her brain shuddered awake, along with her taste buds. Wow. She added three scoops of sugar then grabbed the half and half from the fridge and filled her mug to the rim. Better.

  Ten after seven. Sophie whimpered and pawed the backdoor to be let out. Wanda stood on the porch and watched her pet with one eye, the other taking in her neighborhood. All seemed as quiet as it had every morning in Scrub Oak. The sun started its climb into the sky, the sparrows and finches tweeted and fluttered in the old oak tree before pecking at the feeder. Old Mr. Keller’s morning hacking cough echoed off the roof tops as he no doubt bent to retrieve his Dallas newspaper thrown into the bushes, par usual. The Patterson’s basset hound sounded his low-toned ruffs as he greeted someone walking by. Life back to normal.

  Except that there had been a shooting and one of the town’s high-ranking citizens, at least in his own estimation, sat in a jail cell. That sort of thing didn’t happen every day in Scrub Oak. She still felt a twinge of guilt that somehow, she had instigated it.

  She didn’t get to speak to Pastor Bob about it. He was visiting the sick. But the ladies in her Bible study consoled her. Beverly Newby patted her shoulder. “Your intentions were good. It is not your fault Carl decided to take matters into his own hands. That officer was very clear about not carrying guns.”

  Several of the ladies nodded as they peered over their reading glasses. A heaviness lifted from Wanda’s chest. Then it sank back in. “But Carl’s intentions were probably good, too.”

  “Well,” Kathy King, Beverly’s daughter, raised both eyebrows. “Carl is known to do stuff to gain attention.”

  Scoffing chuckles could be heard around the room.

  “Good morning, Ladies.” Pastor Bob, back from his rounds, entered and gave a nod to each of them. “Wanda, I like your idea of reading through the Psalms. When we really dig in, God can nudge us through His word. He gives us discernment, but it does take courage to act on what He shows us. Shall we stop and pray for the events of last night? For Carl, the police, and even the family of the man who was killed?”

  Shuffling occurred as the women bowed their heads. But during the prayer and the rest of the Bible study, a growing desire began to bloom in Wanda’s heart.

  At first, she dismissed it as trying to ease her own conscience. But then again, something did not add up. What or why, she couldn’t tell. More than a feeling, but not quite an idea. It hung in her thoughts like an opaque curtain obscuring the clear truth.

  One thing she did know, though. Deep inside she believed Carl to be wrongly accused. She’d known him when he was the shy kid in high school afraid of having his head dunked in the toilets. But how to go about proving it without making the police, especially Todd, look like small town buffoons?

  Maybe after she talked to Todd over lunch and got more details, the curtain would open to reveal the way she must proceed. She packed up her Bible and notebook and headed out. An hour and a half to kill. Go back home, or snoop around town? Part of her wanted to check out the woods, but if the other two burglars still hid out in them, well, that would be a stupid thing to do. Camping out in Aurora’s backyard wasn’t an option. That woman’s lacquered gel nails would be clicking on her latest iPhone faster than Wanda could say lickety-split.

  Rent one of the cabins at the Woodway Resort? She, Evelyn, and Betty Sue could take turns keeping watch. She pulled up their website on her phone. What, $250 a night? Well, they advertised two bedrooms with lake access, but still. Sheesh.

  She could wander into Anna’s Antiques and talk to Beverly some more. Scope out the place and see if she really had anything of great value in there. People opened up to Beverly, so maybe she had gleaned more information. If not, Wanda would peruse the aisles of the grocery store, catch the gist of a few conversations, an
d maybe pick up a few items she’d never tried before.

  With a plan in hand, Wanda’s steps lightened and quickened the three blocks to Anna’s. As she entered the shop, the soft tinkling of the old fashion bell on the door along with a welcomed blast of air-conditioning greeted her. Then Beverly’s wonderful smile.

  “Wanda. What a pleasure. I barely made it back to the shop in time to open.”

  “I wanted to thank you for your kind words in Bible study this morning.”

  A soft blush, the color of the Victorian divan in the corner of the shop, colored Beverly’s cheeks. “Psfft. Don’t mention it.”

  Wanda wandered to the counter. “Well, I still feel somewhat responsible for stirring the hornet’s nest.”

  “It was chock full of hornets anyway. You know how Carl is.” She poured a cup of iced water from a pitcher sweating on a sterling silver tray. “Here you are. The heat is already close to unbearable.”

  Wanda took a long, grateful gulp. “Have you noticed Carl being more agitated than normal lately? I am trying to figure out what possessed him to jump the gun.” She stopped and raised her hand to her mouth. “You know what I mean.”

  Beverly’s laugh reminded Wanda of a wind chime in the summer breeze. She poured herself a glass and took a sip before responding as if she wanted to weigh her words first.

  Wanda waited.

  “Well, now that you mention it.” She wiped both corners of her mouth with an embroidered lace hankie retrieved from her sleeve. “He cornered Chief Brooks last week on the sidewalk right near my stoop. I had the door open after that nice rain to air out the shop, so I couldn’t help but overhear.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Something about a suspected attempt to steal one of his used cars last Tuesday evening?”

  “What did Chief Brooks say?”

  “I don’t remember, exactly. It was more his tone. I recall back on the ranch when I was about ten, Papa had a stubborn colt who would not let anyone approach him. Papa spent days sweet talking him in a calm, even manner until the little jittery horse finally responded and came to eat a sugar cube from his hand. That’s what it reminded me of.”