Jon's Spooky Corpse Conundrum

by A J Sherwood

  “I knew you’d get it. I’ve had trouble explaining this to everyone else.”

  “It’s not a bad thing, to make sure of what you’re getting into. I think more people spend time planning a wedding than they do a marriage. I made that mistake with your mother. I made damn sure I didn’t repeat it with Neil. I have to say, Neil and I had an easier start because of it.”

  It was incredibly nice to just sit here, the road passing under our feet, and have a conversation with my dad. I’d missed the man sorely while growing up, in between the bouts of being angry about his abandoning us. I’d missed the ability to confide in someone older, a male role model, and having someone who would listen. Who would respond. Rodger had never been that, had never tried. What was nice about this was I not only felt like I’d gotten my own father back but that I’d gained another. Neil was every bit as approachable.

  The phone rang and Caleb pulled it out to answer it. He had a smile on his face as he did so, his lines lighting up with spring green and gold. Just who was calling? “Hey, kiddo.”

  Even from across the car, I could hear Skylar’s voice ring out with a cheery, Hi, Grandpa! followed by a string of syllables I couldn’t decipher.

  Grandpa, was it? I hadn’t had much chance to follow up with Skylar or Natalie on how things were going. I’d known they’d been calling and texting Caleb on a near daily basis, but asking seemed like prying. If this phone call was anything to go by, Skylar at least was pleased to have another grandfather.

  “Yeah, we sure are,” Caleb confirmed…something. “We’re on the road right now. Jon, when do you think we’ll get there?”

  “About six o’clock? They want to know the schedule, I take it?”

  “Donovan’s apparently already called them with a head’s up. He thinks dinner at eight is doable.”

  “A bit late for dinner, but with what we have to do to lock Ayers down for the night, probably feasible. Alright, eight it is.” The ring and such could be handled in the morning, in my opinion. It wasn’t like there was a point to running ourselves ragged. We just needed to get Ayers under lock and key for the night before he became harder to track down.

  “Skylar, tell everyone eight. We need to drop off some key evidence and lock down a witness, and then we’ll be there at the house. Okay? Yeah, see you soon.”

  The rest of the trip passed in easy conversation as we swapped stories, catching up on each other’s lives. A pang of disappointment hit as we came into Nashville proper and took the exit for Psy. We had a safe at the office for evidence. It wasn’t as official as putting it into a precinct evidence locker, but it sufficed for temporary holding. Like now. I popped inside with Caleb, gave him a bit of the nickel tour, then opened the (thankfully non-electronic) safe for him to store the ring inside.

  We were in and out in ten minutes flat. As we loaded back up into the car, Caleb’s cell rang again and he answered it with a hopeful, “Hey, honey. You got him?”

  Neil’s baritone rumbled out an answer, just indistinct enough I couldn’t catch it, but I didn’t need to. Caleb’s lines sparked with relief. “Good. Yeah, we expected that. We’ll meet you at Natalie’s. Okay. Love you, bye.”

  “I take it they have Ayers?”

  “Your friend Detective Borrowman came through beautifully. Neil said he was already in custody by the time they arrived, and the paperwork to hold him overnight was half-filled out. Neil thinks they’ll be clear for dinner in thirty minutes.”

  “Borrowman’s good that way,” I agreed with a smile. I mentally made a note to buy the man dinner at some point in thanks. “Text Skylar with a heads-up.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Natalie didn’t live close to the office. She was more in the Antioch area, near Percy Priest Lake. I headed that way and because it was Sunday, we didn’t have rush hour to contend with. I internally cheered as I zipped down the streets. Eventually I was able to turn into her neighborhood, with all its established trees and two-story houses from the ’90s. Because the Humvee would fill up the driveway, I parked in the street, straddling the front yard a bit. The streets were nice and wide here, so I wasn’t worried about blocking traffic.

  Skylar must have been on the lookout. The door popped open almost before I could get the vehicle into park, and she skipped out with a wide smile on her face. She called back into the house as she moved, “He’s here!”

  I knew good and well she wasn’t talking about me.

  Caleb slid out and went straight for her. “There’s my pretty.”

  Skylar threw both arms around him and got a good hug in, practically vibrating with gold, green, and the pumpkin orange of anticipation. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that last line. Was she just anticipating seeing him in person? Hopefully that’s all it was.

  As if her words were a summoning beacon, everyone else poured out of the house. Natalie and Aaron, then Mom, all converging in. Aaron hung back a bit, watching as Natalie hugged her father for the first time in eighteen years. There wasn’t a dry eye watching them, and my own vision blurred with tears to see the love, the relief, in being reunited. I’d known Natalie harbored her own anger over being abandoned. Seeing that downgrade visibly made me incredibly happy.

  Skylar wiggled free and came to me, arms around my waist and her pointy chin resting on my collar bone as she looked up at me seriously. “Good job.”

  I snorted a laugh. “I can’t take a lot of credit for this one.”

  “You found him. Got him to us. Got Rodger gone.” A grin of wicked satisfaction crossed her face. “Finally. So good job.”

  I found it interesting she could so easily accept a man she didn’t really know well so easily. “You and your grandfather are getting along well? You’ve only spoken to him a few times.”

  “He texts me on his lunch break,” she explained, face lighting up. “And he doesn’t sugarcoat things with me. And he sends me funny cat videos.”

  Ah. So the relationship was deeper than I’d realized. I really wished I could handle a cellphone some days.

  “I haven’t talked to Grandpa Neil as much,” she continued thoughtfully, finally releasing me, although she only retreated a foot. “But he seems cool too.”

  “He’s very cool.” I decided to release the bomb that she had overexuberant great-grandparents a little later. From the corner of my eye, I saw my parents face each other. Tears trickled down Mom’s cheek, navy-hued regret thick in her lines. She was thinner, more brittle than when I’d last seen her, and that weighed on my heart. She looked fragile in a way I’d never seen before. There was memory there, in her aura, in her expression, of a time long past. In Caleb’s, too.

  Still, they didn’t say a word to each other. He just held out both arms, and Mom stepped into them, hugging him hard. Both of them let out a little sigh, such a mix of emotions that they bowed under the weight of it, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders. Caleb said something softly to her, and she laughed, a watery chuckle, and her hands tightened their grip.

  As they held on to each other, I could see some of the damage become muted, more memory than live pain. I, in turn, felt less raw as well. I was always happier when the people around me weren’t wearing pain in neon signs. I felt my own anger and hurt settle, no longer serrated edges that grated at me. If they could forgive, then dammit, so could I.

  Skylar leaned into my side and whispered, “Will they be okay?”

  “I think there’s still some things they’ll need to hash out,” I replied in the same low tone. “But they both want to be friends again, and I think it’ll happen.”

  She let out a low breath. “Good. Where’s Grandpa Neil and Donovan?”

  “Still at the precinct. But they’ll be along.”

  Natalie waited for my parents to break up before urging everyone inside. “Come on. I’ve got pots on the stove I shouldn’t ignore. Everyone in.”

  I gladly followed.

  19

  Kyle Ayers sat on the bench in the jail cell,
like a man already condemned. He was slumped in on himself, elbows on his knees, eyes blindly staring at the grey cement floor. As I approached with Neil at my side, I took him in. He wasn’t much older than me. Mid-forties—I knew that from his file. But he looked so much older, the lines around his eyes and mouth aging him. He didn’t look like he’d slept well in days, and probably hadn’t. I could see the strength in his body with the way he filled out his clothes. After so many years of construction work, the strength was honestly won, and it was no surprise he’d been able to pick up Witherspoon’s dead weight and move it. I’d bet even money we didn’t need to hunt down any accomplices. His white t-shirt and dark wash jeans were clean enough, but he still gave off this rumpled, weary air.

  Stopping in front of the bars, Neil cleared his throat to get his attention. Ayers’ dark brown eyes slowly lifted up, taking in Neil with only a flicker of curiosity.

  “Kyle Ayers,” Neil said formally. “I’m Detective Neil Singleton with the Sevierville Police Department. I’ve got a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Richard Witherspoon.”

  Ayers stared at him steadily. “It wasn’t me.”

  I didn’t need Jon’s eyes to know that was a lie. “Mr. Ayers, you were found using a dead man’s debit card. No one but his murderer would have access to that card. I think you’d better come up with a different response.”

  “No, he gave that to me,” Ayers insisted. “I was his business partner. He owed me. I didn’t steal it, he gave it to me.”

  Neil and I shared a speaking look. Suuure. Witherspoon had had to lock this man out of the business and sue him for embezzlement, but after Ayers was out of prison, he just gave the man access to his tertiary account? Right, that made perfect sense. I’d hoped the man would just fess up and not make us go through the whole rigmarole of getting Jon to sit in on an interview. The heavens were not listening.

  Apparently deciding not to get into it tonight, Neil continued, “We’ll need you to stay here overnight. I’ll transport you to Sevierville tomorrow for formal arraignment and trial. You’ll get to tell your story tomorrow. For tonight, I’ll read you your rights.”

  “I was in here for a traffic violation,” Ayers said bitterly. “You can’t do that, just assume I’m guilty of murder and put me in here.”

  Neil ignored him and blandly read him his Miranda rights.

  Neither one of us saw a reason to stay after that, although Ayers steadily built up steam, ranting about how unfair all this was. We left the jail and out the back door, turning in our visitor’s badges as we did so.

  “He gave it to me,” Neil parroted in a mocking whine. “Wow. If that wasn’t a bald-faced lie.”

  “I really don’t understand why he couldn’t have thought of a better one.” I said this mostly rhetorically. “I mean, he had to know we’d come asking questions. He has perfect means, motive, and opportunity. He’s the only one Witherspoon had beef with. Why wouldn’t we ask him? And the man was stupid enough to steal his card and use it immediately after his death.”

  “Most criminals are pretty stupid. Fortunately. Makes them easier to catch.” Neil unlocked the SUV with the fob, then tossed me the keys. “After taking a look at that guy, I don’t think we’re looking for accomplices. You?”

  “No, he looked strong enough to haul Witherspoon. You still want Jon to verify that?”

  “Well, yeah. But it can wait until morning.”

  I couldn’t refute what he’d said. I’d seen many an open and shut case because the criminal was so blatantly obvious. TV gave you the impression people were smart about how they committed crimes, especially murder. But really, they were so panicked and emotionally compromised, they made stupid mistakes all the time. I think in this case, Ayers had convinced himself Witherspoon really did owe him the money. That he was perfectly justified in taking the card. How he’d managed to do that, I didn’t know, but people deluded themselves all the time.

  I slid in, adjusted the driver’s seat further back to accommodate my legs, and started the engine. Neil pulled out his phone and texted someone—I assumed Caleb—with an update we were on our way. Still watching from the corner of my eye, I asked, “You nervous? About meeting the family?”

  “I suppose it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t. I don’t know how Natalie’s going to take the idea of having a step-father at her age. Skylar seems very eager to meet me, though. I get texts from her constantly.”

  Thank god for Skylar and her enthusiasm. She’d been the same way with me when we’d first met. Eager to make friends and not shy about it. Both of her new grandfathers needed that now. “Skylar’s not at all shy. And she really likes the idea of finally having a grandfather in her life. Aaron’s father died when he was a teenager, and while her grandmother is sweet to her, she doesn’t see her often. Lauren’s parents she doesn’t see at all, basically. Rodger she outright hates.”

  Neil absorbed this information thoughtfully. “So we’re really the only grandfathers she’ll have consistently.”

  “More or less, yeah. And she wants to go into law enforcement, so to her, you both are role models.”

  “Ah. That makes more sense of all the questions I’ve gotten from her. We won’t be staying at Natalie’s tonight, will we?”

  “No, you’ll be staying with me and Jon. Lauren’s in Natalie’s guest room at the moment. Only place for you is at ours.”

  He rubbed his palms against his knees, and I could see he really was nervous, but hopeful at the same time. I didn’t think he’d have anything to worry about. Jon would have given us a head’s up if he saw trouble.

  We pulled into the driveway, a little to the right. It was a tight squeeze with so many vehicles. I barely got a foot out when a redhead slammed into me with a quick hug.

  “Hi, Donovan!” Skylar shot me a smile, then whipped around to the other side. “Grandpa Neil!”

  I felt like I just got hit by a typhoon. Dust devil. Something. Did someone spike her Sprite? She was awfully excited.

  Neil got a deer-in-the-headlights look as he suddenly found himself with an armful of bouncing teenage girl. I felt like I should intervene, somehow, but there was a smile on his face as he looked down at her.

  It had been hinted at a few times that Neil really liked kids and he’d been anxious to meet Caleb’s. That he wanted children in his life. I think Skylar fit the bill perfectly. I could see it as he looked at her, that final puzzle piece sliding into place for him.

  We’d better have more kids in this family. With Skylar being the only grandchild, she was going to end up rotten. Too many people to spoil her.

  “Come in, dinner is almost ready,” she invited us both, already grasping Neil’s hand so she could pull him forward. “Grandpa Caleb is making cookies for after. He let me have some of the cookie dough, it was reallllly good. He said you taught him.”

  “To be fair, my mother taught him. It’s her recipe,” Neil answered, allowing himself to be towed.

  I locked the car as I followed them in, watching as Skylar happily chattered with her new grandfather. The man looked besotted already. This did not bode well.

  It was a bit of a madhouse when we came in. Neil was introduced all around and I held my breath as he said hello to both Natalie and Lauren. Neither woman reacted oddly, though, both giving him a hug and drawing him in to sit in the kitchen as they finished dinner. It seemed they didn’t think of him as an interloper, and for everyone’s sake, I was glad. I kissed Jon hi, but he was busy mashing potatoes on the far side of the bar—thankfully away from all electronics—and there really was no room for another person in that kitchen. I retreated for a safer spot.

  Walking to the end of the table, I sat and watched for a while, a smile playing around the corners of my mouth. They were happy, even bumping into each other, the confines of the kitchen too small to properly fit four adults.

  Lauren apparently realized that. She finished up the rolls before coming to the table and sitting next to me. Taking one of my hands in
hers, she leaned in and asked, “Donovan. Did you ask Alani to help me?”

  I’d expected this question. “No, ma’am. My mother called and asked how you were doing. I told her, and she said it sounded like you needed a friend. I was absolutely not consulted about anything she decided to do.”

  Some of the tension lines eased around her eyes. “I’m glad. She’s been so…stalwart, I think is the word. So constant. It’s been so long since I’ve had a female friend, I’d forgotten how nice it is. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know your family better before this point. Looking back on it, I’m not sure why I didn’t. Jon invited us over to family gatherings often enough. It’s just that Rodger…” She trailed off with a grimace. “Well. In hindsight, it’s obvious Rodger wouldn’t be comfortable around all of you. I let his opinion influence me too much. I really should have stood up to him more. On many things.”

  Sounded like something Rodger would do. I decided not to tell her that. “Mom’s really happy for the chance to know you better.”

  She patted my hand, the smile coming back to her face. “I see where you get your patience from. And your laugh. It pleases me enormously that she adores Jon so much. I didn’t realize she knew Skylar so well until recently.”

  “Those two get along like a house on fire. I think it’s because they have the same wicked sense of humor.”

  Her blue eyes lifted, dancing with merriment. “Yes, I think it’s that precisely. One thing has been nagging at me. Did you tell her how to be an anchor?”

  I blinked at Lauren, confused. “No? Well, I’ve described what I do for Jon at different times. And, of course, she’s seen us together. Why?”

  “She’s stepped in a few times and supported me, much like an anchor would. I just wondered how she knew what to do. She obviously does—she didn’t hesitate.” Lauren’s voice went wistful. “I wish I’d known her forty years ago. She’s got such amazing potential to be an anchor. She’d have been better for me than Rodger.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek, hard, to keep from commenting. “I’m glad she’s been able to help.”