Murder to Spare

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Murder to Spare Page 4

by Tamara Woods


  "Hey, there's our songbird!" Chad's voice was right in her ear. "When you going to get that ass up on stage?" He smacked Isa on the butt.

  "Don't do that!" She elbowed him in his soft middle, frowning up at him. What was wrong with this dude? His face had that flushed look that told Isa he'd had too much to drink. He rubbed his stomach and grinned.

  "Aww..baby don't be like that. If you liked Travis, just wait until you get a taste of all this." He flexed his bicep and then kissed it.

  "Are you for real?" Isa mumbled under her breath. She started heading toward Clare again, but he grabbed her by her arm.

  "Let me go. This is not cool."

  "I'm not done talking to you."

  He called her a name that had her narrowing her eyes and balling up her fist.

  "What the hell is wrong with you, dude?"

  The voice was one that Isa hadn't heard in years was behind her. She froze while Chad's grin got a little wider. A little meaner.

  "What, you coming over here to cape for this fine piece of chocolate? You her hero now?"

  Fine piece of... She punched him in the gut. She didn't have a lot of power behind it, but it was enough to get him to drop her arm. She didn’t acknowledge Travis’s presence. Of course as soon as he’d show up, there would be drama. Isa side-stepped them both and headed for Clare at the bar.

  Everybody turned to stare at them while a song played in the background talking about loving this bar, usually a crowd pleaser, but no one was singing along this time.

  "You okay?" her friend asked.

  Isa nodded. The entire bar was focused on those two boneheads. The tension seemed to have found a home in her throat. She swallowed thickly. This wasn't going to end peacefully.

  "What the hell? You-" Chad made a move toward Isa, but Travis stepped in front of him.

  Travis held up his hand. "Leave her alone dude. You're only doing this, because you're ticked off at me."

  Chad stood straighter so the height difference between the two was even more obvious. He laughed down at Travis, "What you mean? I'm not mad at your little punk ass. You were barely somebody with me. You ain’t nothing without me.”

  Travis's eyes narrowed. "What I am is tired is your crap. You wish you were half the man your brother is. That's why he's been cleaning up your messes for months."

  Chad's laugh disappeared. "That's what you think? You think my brother needs to bail me out? Maybe he can bail you out of this,"

  He punched Travis right in the eye. Travis's head snapped back and he lost his balance taking out a table on the way down. Bottle and glasses smashed and people jumped up and gave them room.

  That's when all hell broke loose. Travis got up and took a swing at Chad. People started punching and pushing. A drink went flying across the room. A woman screamed when a bottle burst. The yelling was intense. The door guy rushed in and grabbed folks who were fighting and dragged them to what Isa assumed was a back door. The bartender jumped into the fray. One particular handsy couple in a back corner ignored it all and kept on bumping and grinding. Clare handed Isa a shot and they took it as they kept their eyes on the madness.

  As quickly as it started, it was over. Now the bar was decorated with spilled beer and broken glass bits. Lisa was yelling at people to get out of her way. She dragged a garbage can to the middle of the room, throwing trash into it.

  A girl sat on the stage crying while presumably a friend of hers comforted her.

  And the table that Isa and Clare had been sitting at was totally overturned.

  "This doesn't look like fun anymore. Wanna go back to my place and listen to old records?"

  Isa nodded. She'd planned on spending the night at Clare's anyway.

  "Do you know what was going on with them?" It felt more than just a boys will be boys situation.

  "I might know a little bit."

  THEY WALKED INTO THE parking lot out back and started on their way back to Clare's. The night was totally in bloom, the inked sky holding a few stars close with wispy clouds connecting them. The wind played in the thinning trees, carried a hint of fall. Isa snuggled into her trench and Clare put her hands into her denim jacket's pockets. The street lights made the road feel much less threatening. Though The Rec was pretty much at the end of Main Street, the street wasn't that long.

  There was a sidewalk now, an improvement from years ago.

  "Do you remember much about Chad at all? He moved here in junior or senior year. You weren't around much."

  "I remember him being a prick, even back then," Isa said.

  It was a surprise he'd made any real impression on her. With her volunteer work, maintaining her 4.0, being the track and field team caption, and working at her aunt's shop, she was too busy for most things. When she'd found out that Travis was cheating on her, she'd felt destroyed. But she had to admit to herself, a small part of her had felt relief. It had been one less thing to worry about.

  Regardless of the logic, forgiving him for the past felt insurmountable. She thought she'd gotten over it until she was back here. But tonight he'd been her, or something like it. The past and the present coming together like that made her stomach queasy. She liked to put the past to bed and never revisit it. Unfortunately, that's not how it worked in the Valley.

  "Remember when he and his brother Kyle moved here when we were in school?" Clare asked. "He was a douchebag then. Bullying people and being obnoxious."

  Back then? Isa thought. He hadn't grown out of it.

  Clare went on. "Wesley was one of his favorite targets. Remember when he locked him inside a locker? He was like a bully from an 80s movie. Over the top."

  "I can't believe I forgot that," Isa said. "I was the one who heard Wesley banging on the locker door on my way to the bathroom. It was awful."

  She'd felt so bad for Wesley, especially when he was helped out of the locker, all sweaty and kind of shaky. He'd been so humiliated. The bullying ramped up after that. It became a game with the "cool" kids to figure out how to torture him. His parents eventually pulled him out and homeschooled for the rest of the year.

  "But what about him and Travis tonight? Travis said he wasn't as good as his brother?"

  Clare snapped her finger, "Right! Forgot about that. He was talking about how Chad was screwing up their construction company and Kyle is been going back and fixing things. Projects. Relationships with people. Everything."

  Her phone started vibrating loudly.

  "Hold on a sec," Clare said, pulling out her vibrating phone. She texted something while they walked and Isa thought over the night. She wondered if that was the company who'd messed up her Aunt's kitchen initially. There couldn't be that many construction companies in town. He and Travis seemed to have some type of strange rivalry/frienemy thing going on. Looked like tonight it bordered more on enemy than friend.

  She shrugged and decided to not spend any more time thinking about her ex and his shenanigans. She teased her best friend about her terrible karaoke skills and ignored the strange turn of events.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Isa woke up in Clarebel's basement crashed out on her futon. It was like high school all over again. Her knees and her neck were much stiffer than she remembered it being. She stretched and her whole body popped like a bag of popcorn. She groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Maybe not exactly like high school.

  At least she wasn't bearing the brunt of too much liquor. Clarebel was going to feel like death warmed over.

  Isa looked through her pockets and found her phone. Almost 9. She called her aunt and let her know she'd be home soon. She could hear Miss Olivia shuffling around upstairs. Clare didn't stir. She decided to go up there and give her friend's Mom a hand.

  The basement door opened up into the kitchen. It was all yellows and greens. It looked just like it had when Clarebel was growing up. She remembered sitting at that cracked Formica table grousing over homework and swooning over boys.

  "Hi Miss Olivia, how are
you doing?"

  Miss Olivia seemed to have shrunken over the years. Clarebel remembered her a robust woman with wide hips and an even wider smile. This woman in front of her was like the dehydrated apple version of herself.

  "Isa! You look so good. Come give me a hug sweetie."

  Isa enveloped her in a gentle hug. She could feel the older woman's bones underneath her. But she still smelled the same, French Vanilla.

  "I hear you haven't been feeling well. How are you doing?" Isa asked, gently steering Miss Olivia to a chair in the kitchen. The other woman sank down gratefully onto the cushion. She sighed.

  "Some days are better than others. I just thank the good Lord that I'm still here," she said.

  Isa raised her eyebrows while she washed her hands in the kitchen sink. Miss Olivia didn't use to be one who was that religious, but maybe her illness had made her find a faith. Or growing older. She dried off with a paper towel.

  "How's Maybel doing? I don't see her as much as I used to. Tell her I asked about her."

  Isa smiled and gave her a short update on her aunt.

  "Would you like some coffee, ma'am? Is everything where it used to be?" Isa asked.

  The coffee grounds were still in a can in the freezer because Miss Olivia swore it kept fresher that way. The pot was a newer one, but not so fancy that Isa couldn't figure it out.

  "You haven't changed much at all, have you, honey? You used to do this same thing when you were a kid. Except back then, you'd pour everybody juice," Miss Olivia said with a little laugh.

  Isa smiled. "Everybody needs a drink to start the day. Living is thirsty work."

  "Amen to that," Clare said from the stairs. She slumped over to the table, wearing a dramatic pair of purple sunglasses with huge wings on the side.

  "You look ridiculous." Miss Olivia tsked in disgust. She had the old woman sound thing down too.

  "Mama, this world is all too bright. I gotta wear shades."

  "You gotta drink less is what you gotta do," her mother said.

  Isa decided to stay far out of this one and made breakfast instead. The pea green fridge could've been time traveled in from the 50s, but it was still in beautiful shape. She found the makings for a Denver omelet.

  "Y'all want breakfast?"

  "Just coffee for me, thanks. My stomach is too sensitive for food at the moment,” Clarebel said, wincing a little.

  "You get you some water in you. Coffee'll just dehydrate you. I'll get it." Miss Olivia started to stand up and Isa gestured for her to sit back down.

  "I'm up, I'll get it. You just relax and tell me about all the goings-ons in Whisper Valley. I know you know the tea, Miss Olivia."

  "Well, I don't like to gossip," she started. She told a story of the neighborhood kids and how they were causing havoc every day after school.

  "Them kids ain't got no kind of home training, I tell you, Isa. It's not like when y'all were kids. These new kids are terrible."

  Isa grinned in response and handed her bestie a glass of water. She was pretty sure when they were kids, the old timers then were talking about how terrible her generation was, too. She pulled out a bowl, the eggs, green and red peppers, ham luncheon meat, onion, sour cream, cheddar cheese, and hot sauce. She passed a cutting board, a knife, and the veggies to her bestie.

  "Make yourself useful," she said. Clare groaned but obliged. This too was like old times. Isa had always liked making breakfast, but Miss Olivia had always made the girls split the task. And once Isa had found she could get her friend to chop the veggies, she had never let that go.

  "Are there any kids you do like around here?" Isa asked, putting the cast iron skillet on the gas heat with a pat of butter in it.

  Miss Olivia thought for a minute. "Nope. They're all heathens sent here to terrorize the neighborhood."

  Isa laughed out loud. She pulled out the coffee mugs and the cream and sugar for when the coffee was done.

  "It really is good to be back," she said and truly meant it.

  "Whatever. I'm still mad at you for leaving," Clare said, while begrudgingly chopping up green peppers.

  "You can't still be mad. I'm not even gone anymore. That doesn't make sense."

  "Feelings don't have to make sense. They are what they are," she retorted.

  Isa cracked the eggs in the bowl and added a dollop of sour cream to them and whipped them up to a frothy creaminess. She poured them onto the melted butter and set the cups down in front of everyone.

  "Oh, that's I-77 just goes one way these days?" Isa asked, archly looking over at her friend.

  Clare chopped up the veggies, stubbornly not meeting her eyes. The silence stretched to the point of breaking.

  "A lot happened," Isa said finally. "I didn't know what to say or how to say it. I'll tell you, I promise. It just...hurts." She felt tears well up and she angrily blinked them away. She didn't want to waste any more tears on that man.

  Clare nodded. "All right, I'll give you that. But I'm your best friend. You should've come to me." She handed her friend the cutting board.

  "You're right. I'm sorry." Isa held onto the board and made Clare look her in the eye. She really hadn't meant to be thoughtless. Her friend nodded in acknowledgment. Isa smiled a little and added the veggies to the omelet.

  The silence now was much cozier than before.

  "This coffee is delicious, honey. What did you add to it?" Miss Olivia asked, patting Isa's hand. She smiled at her gratefully.

  "A little touch of cocoa powder and a smidgen of cinnamon. Makes it taste like autumn to me."

  "That it does."

  Soon breakfast was ready. Clare added toast to the mix. As they sat digging into the delightfully light omelet, Isa's cell rang. She jerked in surprise. Normally, people just texted her unless something was wrong. Her aunt’s number flashed on her screen.

  "Hey Auntie, everything alright?"

  "Chile, you best come on home. Things have gotten serious."

  "What's wrong?"

  "You'll see when you get here."

  "I'll be there soon."

  She clicked off the phone and stared at it in confusion.

  "What's going on?" Miss Olivia asked.

  Isa shook her head. "I don't know. I hate to eat and run..."

  Miss Olivia shook her head, shooing Isa away. "You get on and go. Aunt Maybel isn't one to make a mountain lion out of a tabby cat,"

  Clare raised her eyebrow at her mom.

  "What? That was a good one. You ain't the only one who can sling some words around here."

  ISA STEPPED OVER HER aunt's threshold in record time, her heart beating in her throat. The last time she remembered her aunt calling her like that had been when her mama had passed away, and her whole life had changed. The little girl inside of her sat with her hands clasped worrying that something terrible had happened.

  "Auntie?" she called as she slipped off her shoes. She walked into the kitchen. No one was there. She hurried to the living room, where Travis sat on the couch, sipping tea.

  "This isn't exactly what I expected," she said. "What are you doing here?"

  Her aunt frowned at her abrupt tone and she shrugged. There was no rule in this great big world that said she had to greet her high school ex-boyfriend with a smile and a cuppa tea. Even if he did already have the tea.

  Whatever.

  "I need your help," he said.

  "We're beyond those days, don't you think?" She slid into her favorite seat and crossed her legs underneath herself. Today she'd planned on washing laundry and dyeing her hair with henna. Not dealing with Travis.

  "Isa, hear the boy out and have some tea," her aunt said, passing her a cup. "It's leaded, but you're going to need it."

  Isa took a cautionary sip. The black tea's sweetness was a nice counterbalance to the whiskey. Fortunately, she'd had a light touch with the alcohol. The tea enforced to Isa how serious things were.

  "What's going on, Travis?" She asked after taking several calming sips.

  "I'm goin
g to be arrested for murder and I need your help."

  She carefully placed the cup down. She must have drunk more last night than she thought, and the alcohol in the tea must have been acting like the hair of the dog. Because she thought he'd said—

  "Mur-murder? For real?"

  He nodded solemnly. "Serious as a heart attack."

  "Why would they think you murdered somebody? And who? And how do you know this is going on? And—"

  "Calm down child, let the man speak," Auntie interrupted her. "Go on boy. Tell her the news."

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and it reminded Isa of a young Travis, who would always get froggy when he was nervous.

  "Chad. Chad was found dead this morning. I couldn’t get much more information than yet. And since we fought at The Rec last night...”

  "That's horrible! What happened to him?" Isa asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

  Travis shook his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t get more information. Just that I’m the primary suspect.”

  Isa shook her head, sadly. The guy had been a jerk, but no one deserved to be murdered.

  Her aunt whispered a prayer for Chad and took a sip from her flask.

  "I can't believe they think you would do something like that," Isa said. "Don't they know you?"

  "I'm not the same guy I used to be. I've been involved in some shady things," he said.

  "Shady things and murder are on two different levels." She shook her head. "But Travis, what can I do?"

  "I need your help."

  "My help? I'm a librarian, not a lawyer," she said. "You better get one of those on the phone, not me."

  He put his cup down and put his hand on hers. "I trust you more than I trust anybody else in this town. No offense Aunt Maybel."

  "None taken."

  "That's nice and all, but I don't know what I can really do." Isa slid her hand out from underneath his. It had felt oddly intimate, and she wasn’t here for all that.

 

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