How to Fetch a Felon

by Cat Clayton

  What a monster! I didn’t want to say anything, but that’s how he found out about Lloyd. He had eyes on her. I recalled the moment outside of Orsacks when I caught Earl looking at us. He must’ve assumed they were involved when they hugged farewell. It made me furious to think about him stalking her, and it pained me to know Lloyd died a senseless death.

  Stoney cleared her throat. “Steely, I really thought he would kill me when I told him the baby is a girl. He wanted a boy. He came at me with his fists raised, screaming, telling me I couldn’t do anything right. But instead of hitting me, he trashed the upstairs living area. He sulked for hours and ranted about how worthless I am and how I will make a terrible mother. He said he was planning to kill me before Pop rescued me, but then he decided he wanted his child, and whether I agreed, we would be a family.”

  Her words stabbed my heart. “You know nothing he says or said about you is true, right?” I asked.

  She patted my hand. “Yes, he’s just a narcissist trying to manipulate me.”

  She’d learned so much in therapy.

  “He’s terrible, a poor excuse for a human, and he can’t hurt you or the baby ever again. You will make the best mother ever, and I’m thrilled you’re having a girl. I can’t wait to be the favorite aunt, you know?” I grinned.

  Smiling, her beautiful amber eyes glistened. “You’ll be Hannah Carol’s only aunt.”

  “Hannah Carol?” My heart fluttered at the mention of Mama’s name.

  She nodded. “Last week when I found out I’m having a girl, I decided to name her Hannah Carol. Hannah is the girl I was closest to when I lived in Houston, and well, you know who Carol is after.”

  “Mama,” I said and embraced her.

  We held each other tightly and rocked back and forth, soothing each other as the tears rained down for all the time we’d lost, and all the pain we’d suffered.

  But the nightmare was finally over.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I awakened next to Stoney snuggled under the covers. I thanked the heavens and the stars for this moment, watching her slumber like an angel. Careful not to wake her, I quietly sat up and found Cuff curled at the foot of the bed.

  Good morning, Chiquita.

  Good morning, little buddy.

  I have been waiting for you to wake up. This tiny hero’s gotta pee.

  With my ankle wrapped tightly, I scooted to the end of the bed and retrieved the crutches leaning against the wall. The x-rays at the emergency room last night had showed no fractures, but I had a severe sprain. They gave me instructions to ice, wrap, and elevate it. They also fitted me with a walking boot and a pair of crutches.

  I crutched out of Stoney’s room with Cuff walking alongside me. I heard voices flowing from the kitchen. Gathered at the table, drinking coffee, Pop, Gertie, Jackson, and Chief Becker discussed last night’s ordeal.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Gertie chirped.

  “Morning,” I said.

  Jackson jumped from his chair and let Cuff outside with Virgil, Taffy, and Patches. He smiled, whispered good morning, and headed to the stove. He switched on the burner under the water kettle.

  I noticed a folded stack of ugly Christmas sweaters piled on the counter. “What’re those for?”

  Gertie frowned. “I’m donating the ones featuring a Santa Claus to charity. I could live the rest of my life without ever seeing another Santa again.”

  “I’ll second that,” I said. I greeted the rest of the group. I glanced out the window above the sink and saw Ms. Stella pointing to the back section of the fence dividing the yards. Two men stood next to her, nodding their heads. “I wonder what she’s doing over there.” I turned back toward the table.

  Pop craned his neck, looking out the door window. “Stella and I had coffee at the fence the other day, and we’re putting in a friendship gate between our yards. We’re splitting the cost.”

  “A friendship gate.” I bit back a grin. “How nice and convenient.”

  Pop blushed, checking his wristwatch. “Where’s your walking boot?”

  “Changing the subject, I see. And the boot is by the front door. I’ll put it on later.”

  Jackson made his way back over to me. “How are you?” He opened his arms and I melted into his chest. “You should sit.”

  “I will.” I enjoyed the warmth of his body against mine. “What’s the water for?”

  With his chin resting on the top of my head, he said, “Your tea.”

  I squeezed him tighter. “I hoped you’d say that.”

  “We’ve been talking with Chief Becker. He has some updates,” he said.

  “Oh really?”

  Cuff barked at the door. I broke free of my cozy embrace to let the dogs inside. The boys and Taffy flopped on Virgil’s fluffy bed in the corner, and Patches collapsed on the cool tile floor.

  Chiquita, that cold weather is not good for my old bones. Remember, I got the arthritis.

  Sorry, forgot, little buddy.

  The kettle let out a sharp hoot. Before it screamed, Jackson removed it from the stove and poured steaming water into a cup. He motioned me to the table. I hobbled and sat down. On his way over, he grabbed a small bag of frozen peas from the freezer. After propping my foot up on a spare chair, he set the peas over the top part of my ankle and handed me the mug of tea. Be still my beating heart, I thought.

  Chief Becker cleared his throat. “I’ll catch you up, Steely. First, Ziggy Wood’s autopsy showed he died of natural causes... well, too much alcohol in his system. But like we suspected, no foul play involved.” He flipped open a notebook in front of him. “As for his brother, Earl, we learned a lot from questioning him late last night after his capture.” He glanced down, adjusting his readers on the edge of his nose.

  Fetched. I fetched him. Cuff’s tail thumped on the cushion.

  I smiled over at my tiny hero.

  “I’d like to mention, had it not been for Earl Wood coloring his hair blond and always wearing a ball cap, I believe the sketch Ms. O’Reilly did with Stoney may have alerted more folks. Lenora received several calls saying the sketch resembled Jason Kramer,” the chief said.

  I nodded. “I thought the same thing.”

  “You did, except for the missing scar. There’s a good explanation of why. Judge Pieper informed us Jason Kramer is Earl and Ziggy’s first cousin. Their mothers were sisters. Now that we have both mugshots, I’d say the resemblance between the two men is uncanny.” Chief sipped his coffee.

  “No wonder they look so much alike,” I said.

  The chief continued. “In his late twenties, Earl Wood moved back to town to live with his parents in their farmhouse on the outskirts of Buckleville, back in the nineties. He’d had a rough go living in Dallas and was arrested several times for his involvement in a prostitution ring. He was a low-man on the totem pole and grew fed up with always taking the rap for the higher up people.”

  Everyone listened with vigilance, and we all appeared to be hanging on the chief’s every word.

  Chief Becker glanced down at his notes. “A year after he arrived, and after a series of petty theft charges and illegal gambling, he moved in with Joley Baranowsky. Their eight-month relationship was tumultuous. He beat her and a few times even put her in the hospital. Randall here arrested him more than once, which is what Earl claims set off his animosity for our former chief. Wood claims you threatened him once his parents posted bail and after he harassed Joley at her family home.”

  Pop nodded. “That, I did. I told him if he didn’t leave town immediately, I’d remove him myself. But it was also the night...” his voice trailed off down memory lane, his expression pained.

  “On Wood’s way out of town the night you told him to leave, he stopped to pick up a young woman walking down the highway. After hearing her story, he discovered she was Chief Lamarr’s daughter, and she was running away because of a fight she’d had with her parents. He gave her a fake name, Larry, and told her he knew of a job in Houston if she wanted to go,” t
he chief said.

  Pop’s head dropped, and he appeared to be studying the yellow sunflowers on his mug as he twisted it in circles.

  “I realize this is difficult to hear, Randall.” Chief Becker’s head bobbed. “Wood claims it was his revenge. He’s being brought up on several felony charges and one murder charge. I guarantee y’all, he will pay for what he did.”

  Gertie let out a long exhale. “It’s a lot to take in.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Anyone want more coffee, the pot’s still hot.”

  Pop and Jackson shook their heads. Chief Becker lifted his cup. “I’ll take one more, Mrs. Lamarr. Thank you.”

  She took his mug and waddled to the counter, refilled his cup, and brought it over, setting it down in front of him. He offered her a kind smile. She took her place back at the table.

  A foreboding expression plagued the chief’s face as he made eye contact with us, one at a time. “There’s more, I’m afraid.”

  A gasp escaped my lips. “What else could there possibly be?”

  Chapter 31

  Chief Becker took a gulp of coffee and set the cup down. “Wood admitted to killing Lloyd Madden. He shot him.”

  “He had to have help though. I didn’t see him anywhere during the stampede,” I said, running over the chief’s words. “Cranky Santa had to be involved. We saw him fleeing the murder scene.”

  “Oh, he was involved all right. Earl shot Lloyd at the Madden art gallery. We’ve already canvassed the scene and found shell casings. But the bad Santa staged the murder at the portable restroom area. At first, Earl tried pinning Lloyd’s murder on him, but later admitted to paying him to stage the body. That Santa is quite a sick character as far as I can tell,” Chief Becker said.

  “What about the image on my security video, the short man leaving a gift? I’m guessing it was him?” Pop asked.

  The chief folded his hands on the table. “Yep.”

  “But he couldn’t have been the person I saw peeking in Stoney’s window, because that guy was tall.”

  “You’re right, Randall. Earl admitted he left the first couple of gifts, and he was at Stoney’s window when you drove up, but he didn’t want to take any more risk of being identified, so he got the Santa to do it. They were in on it all together.”

  Pop shook his head. “Well, I hope y’all arrested the little guy too.”

  Chief Becker nodded. “We have him in custody. Son of a gun wasn’t even with the group of Santas. The few we interviewed said he asked to hang around with them when they arrived in Buckleville, and so they obliged. He came to town with Earl Wood, as his paid accomplice.”

  “What about the Kramer guy who came after Steely at the pickleball courts?” Gertie asked in a huff. “Earl and Ziggy’s first cousin, did he have anything to do with all this?”

  “According to Earl, Kramer hounded him to pay Ziggy’s drug debts. Kramer claims Ziggy owned him a few grand. So, he threatened Earl to scare the money out of him. We’ve learned from both Kramer and Earl, the two cousins had bad blood between them. But so far, we have uncovered no evidence about Kramer’s involvement. But we’ll get him on the drug trafficking charges,” the chief said.

  “Okay, so the motive for Lloyd’s murder,” I said, sitting up in my chair. “Was it out of Earl’s jealousy over Stoney?”

  Jackson and Chief Becker nodded at the same time.

  “Looks like it,” the chief said.

  “Oh my goodness. It’s my fault Lloyd’s dead,” a frail voice said from the hallway. In a t-shirt and leggings, Stoney rounded the corner of the kitchen entryway with tears in her eyes. She supported her plump belly with both hands and wilted to her knees like a withering flower, her body shook as she sobbed.

  Pop and I scrambled out of our chairs.

  “No, no, no, no. You are not responsible, dumplin’,” Pop said, lifting her up and holding her tight.

  “That’s right, Stoney. Earl Wood is responsible. Plain and simple.” I wrapped my arms around them.

  “But it was because of me,” she cried.

  As Pop and I guided her to a chair at the table, I said, “No, honey, it was because he’s an awful, violent, and malicious monster.”

  Stoney slumped into the chair, and Pop stood above her with his hands on her shoulders.

  “Let me fix you some chamomile tea,” I said, moving toward the counter. I flashed Jackson a plea-for-help glance. And while I busied myself, making her cup of soothing tea, I heard Jackson and Chief Becker reassuring Stoney.

  Jackson cleared his throat. “Stoney, criminals like Wood will do bad things, not because of something their victims did, but because they choose, for whatever reason, to do them, regardless of how it affects others. In my line of work and things I witnessed overseas, I’ve run into some awful people. They have done horrific things. Many of them lack empathy. But bottom line, you are not to blame. He is.”

  I sighed in relief as I poured the hot water over the tea bag. If she wouldn’t listen to us, maybe she’d listen to Jackson. Even with my back to the table, I heard her muffled cries. My heart ached.

  The chief took over.

  “Darlin’ let me explain something to you. We may never figure out why Earl Wood took you all those years ago. I know your father thinks he’s responsible because he had him arrested and kicked him out of town, but sometimes bad people do terrible things, but it’s not the innocent people's fault, ever. And, it’s not your job to worry about what happens to him from here on out. It’s ours and the judicial system’s job. We’ll see to it he pays for all the wrong things he’s done in his lifetime. Your only job is to live life happily with your family and love that little one with all your heart. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said in a soft whisper.

  I padded over to the table and set her tea in front of her. She paid me with a smile, a single tear trickling down her cheek, and as it reached her chin, I softly rubbed it dry with my palm.

  Placing her hand over mine, she whispered, “Thank you.” Her eyes drifted over to Chief Becker and Jackson. “I appreciate you both giving me your thoughts, and I promise to work on letting go and forgiveness, for myself and Larry... I mean, Earl. If I’ve learned one thing in therapy, it is that forgiveness is key to finding peace and happiness.”

  Patting her shoulders, Pop beamed. “That’s my girl.”

  DANIEL STOPPED IN AFTER lunch. The chief had gone back to the station, and he’d given Jackson the rest of the day off. Pop shocked me with a request to head over to the shooting range.

  The room silenced, and Gertie stopped loading the dishwasher and turned to face us at the table. Everyone knew the subject of shooting hadn’t sat well with me ever since Mama’s death.

  “Pop, we discussed this. I’m not ready.” I folded my arms over my chest.

  He shrugged and raised a brow clear to his receding hairline. “Sorry, Steels. I’m not ready isn’t an option anymore. It’s high time you move past this.”

  “You’re being unreasonable!” I pouted.

  Daniel snorted. “Girl, you are not good at throwing fits anymore, whatcha doing, maturing on me?”

  Now, it was Pop’s turn to snort. The rest burst into laughter.

  “Real funny,” I said, struggling to stand. The darned walking boot I’d put on earlier proved to be an awkward pain in the neck.

  Making her way over to the table, Gertie giggled. “Do you need help?”

  “No! I need everyone to stop laughing. My issue with guns is no funny matter.”

  “Your tantrum is funny, not the shooting thing. But your father is right. With all that has happened, protecting yourself is important.” She swatted me on the butt. “Now, go change your clothes, and we can go. I’ve got a new pistol to try!”

  I tottered toward the hallway. The boot took a lot of pressure off my ankle, and there was little discomfort as I walked. Before I turned the corner, I twisted, narrowing my eyes. I pointed at Jackson.

  “You of all people should stick up for me! Y
ou know how I feel about shooting and guns... and Mama.” The tips of my ears burned like fire.

  He sat there, wearing a wry smile. “Sorry, buttercup. This one’s out of my control.” He shook his head and concealed the grin with his hand. I had flashbacks to the first night I met him at Samson’s murder scene and how much he infuriated me.

  I stood there, seething, my lips trembling.

  Stoney spoke up. “Steely, sweetie, if I can put in the hard work it takes to recover from trauma, and everything that has happened to me, you can do this.”

  I aimed my glare in her direction, but felt my anger subside. Her innocence, kindness, and bravery made it impossible to unload my frustration on her. And she was right.

  I sighed. “But who’ll stay with you?” I asked, hoping I’d get out of this somehow.

  Daniel raised his arm. “I will! Stoney and I need to finish Mamma Mia, anyway!”

  I stabbed my hips with my fists. “Oh I see how you’re gonna be. Traitor,” I snapped.

  “She’s cute because she’s little,” Daniel said, cracking himself up.

  My emotions overwhelmed me. Before I burst into tears, I stumbled out of the kitchen and headed for the front door in the clothes I slept in. I tried like heck not to injure my ankle any worse.

  “Fine! Let’s go! But if I’m going shooting, it’ll be on my terms!” I called back.

  Chapter 32

  Twenty minutes later, I shuffled up the stairs to my apartment, one step at a time. I’d demanded the others stay in the Jeep and wait. I wanted no witnesses to my confession, which may or may not contain a snotty nose and tears.

  I changed into a pair of jeans, an olive-green sweater, one running shoe, and strapped the walking boot back on. Wrestling with my nerves, I stared the closet door down and cursed under my breath. I yanked open the closet door and removed the shoe box containing my pistol. I carried it over to the bed. I set the box on my lap and removed the lid.