Six Cats a Slayin'

by Miranda James

  I waited patiently for her to continue, not wanting to break her concentration.

  “Where they lived was pretty far out in the county. No such thing as indoor plumbing, even at that time, when everybody in town had it. Mrs. Norwood said the day her family moved into a house with an indoor toilet she sat in the bathroom for two hours just marveling at it. The point I’m getting at is, they were poor. A lot of mouths to feed, and not always enough to go around. Billy’s mom kept having kids, and a couple of them died not long after they were born.

  “When Billy was about eight—did I tell you Billy was the oldest? I meant to. Well, Jack Albritton went out hunting one day with one of the little ones, a boy going on four years old. When Jack got back that evening, he didn’t have the boy with him. Claimed he lost sight of the boy in the woods, and even though he searched and called for him for hours, he never found him.” She shivered suddenly. “In those days there were still bears and panthers in the woods. I remember my mama telling me how they would hear the panthers scream at night, and she and her sister would get under the bed and hide.” Her hands were shaking a little as she grasped her mug and brought it to her mouth.

  “Sounds pretty terrifying,” I said.

  Melba nodded. “Jack’s daddy said a bear or a panther must have gotten the boy, but they never found any trace of him. Wasn’t long, though, before Jack came home with a new rifle and some new clothes for himself and his wife. The kids got new things, too. Jack claimed he’d done something to help a man with money, and the man was so grateful that he gave Jack a big reward. I guess they had no choice but to believe him, because he swore up and down it was true.

  “The family didn’t move to Athena until some years later, around when Billy was ready to start high school. Billy’s mama wanted him to have an education so he could do better than she and his daddy had done. His daddy got a job as a mechanic, plus a timber company bought their land. The Norwoods’ land, too.

  “This would have been about six years after the little boy disappeared. Mrs. Norwood said one day when she was shopping, she came across a woman and a boy about nine or ten—he was a little on the small side, she said. Anyway, the boy looked kind of familiar, Mrs. Norwood thought, but she couldn’t place him right off. She didn’t know the woman’s name, although she found out later on. Turned out it was Mrs. Halbert.”

  Melba must have noticed my perplexed expression. I had no idea who Mrs. Halbert was.

  “She was Deirdre Thompson’s mama,” Melba said. “Deirdre was a Halbert.”

  “Okay.” I had an idea where this rambling tale was leading, but I had a piece of the puzzle Melba didn’t. I waited for her to continue and finish the story.

  “Everybody knows that Mr. and Mrs. Halbert had only one biological child, and that was Deirdre. But about six years before Mrs. Norwood saw Mrs. Halbert with this boy, they came back from a trip—or so they said—and had a boy with them. Claimed he was the son of friends of theirs who’d died suddenly. The Halberts had adopted him. Named him Ronnie.”

  I didn’t remember Ronnie Halbert at all, but I knew Melba would enlighten me.

  “Mrs. Norwood saw Mrs. Halbert and Ronnie a couple times more, and it finally hit her why he looked familiar. She thought he looked a little like Mrs. Albritton, Billy’s mama. Billy and his sister took after Jack in looks.”

  I finally couldn’t resist a question. “Did Mrs. Norwood talk to Mrs. Albritton about this?”

  “She couldn’t,” Melba said. “Mrs. Albritton had died about a year before that, not long after Jack had moved him and his kids to Athena, along with his parents and some of his youngest brothers and sisters.

  “Mrs. Norwood didn’t care much for Jack, she told me. Thought he was a pretty rough character. She wasn’t about to go up to him and ask him if Ronnie Halbert was really his little boy. He would have denied it, of course, but Mrs. Norwood has always believed that Ronnie Halbert was Jack Albritton’s little boy, Jerry.”

  The name clinched it for me. She really had been Gerry Albritton all along, although somewhere along the way Jerry had become Geraldine—after being Ronnie Halbert for a number of years. Was this the key to her murder? I thought it had to be. Deirdre Thompson, in my mind, suddenly moved to the number one spot on the list of suspects.

  “Tell me about Ronnie Halbert,” I said. “I don’t remember anybody by that name. He had to be around eight to ten years older than you and me.”

  “Close to ten, I think,” Melba replied. “I remember seeing him around town. He always dressed nice and had his own car. Mr. Halbert spoiled him rotten. He and Mrs. Halbert couldn’t have any more kids, and he wanted a son more than anything. So Ronnie got anything he wanted. Ronnie was good-looking, and he had girls running after him all the time.”

  “Sounds like he was on the wild side,” I said.

  Melba nodded. “Yes, but he never got arrested for anything. Mr. Halbert paid people off, I always heard. One day, though, as the story goes, he had a big fight with Mr. Halbert. He ran off and never came back. People said he went into the army or the navy, but nobody knew for sure. Killed his daddy. Mr. Halbert grieved himself to death.”

  “That’s a really sad story,” I said, and I meant it. So much unhappiness, and Gerry had been at the center of it, but not by choice.

  “What I don’t get is what this has to do with the murder,” Melba said. “Unless Ronnie Halbert was dressing as a woman and going around and calling himself Geraldine, since he maybe used to be Jerry Albritton. He might have been ashamed to show his face around here as Ronnie Halbert again.”

  Melba had hit close enough to the mark, and I thought it was all right to let her see it that way. Until the truth was made known, Melba could think Gerry was simply masquerading.

  “I’ll bet Deirdre was fit to be tied when she figured out who Gerry really was, if that’s what happened,” Melba said. “They say Mr. Halbert left Ronnie a lot of money in his will, but since they never could find him, Deirdre finally got everything.”

  Another strike against Deirdre. Given her miserly reputation, I had little doubt that she would not want to share what she had with anyone else. She might very well be willing to murder her adopted sibling, not only for the money but also to keep quiet about that sibling’s gender reassignment.

  “We need to tell Kanesha this story right away,” I said. “I think this could be the link she needs to bring this case to a close.”

  “So you believe Gerry Albritton was really Jerry Albritton and Ronnie Halbert?” Melba asked.

  “I do.” I pulled out my phone to text Kanesha that I had vital new information for her.

  Melba shook her head. “I wonder why he was pretending to be a woman. I might have recognized him as Ronnie Halbert, although it’s been at least forty years since he left Athena. I’d swear he had plastic surgery, though.”

  “You had no idea that Billy Albritton actually did have a little brother named Jerry?” I asked as I tapped out a message.

  “No, I’d never heard about him before today. I don’t think anyone in town knew,” Melba said, “though I could be wrong.”

  “Billy Albritton must have known who he was,” I said as I hit the icon to send the message.

  “I guess he did,” Melba said. “Do you think Billy killed him?”

  I shrugged. “He could have. Would he have welcomed the return of a long-lost brother who was basically sold to another family?”

  “No, I don’t think he would,” Melba said. “Especially since his daddy’s still alive. He’s close on a hundred years old. Lives in the nursing home where Mrs. Norwood is.”

  My cell phone rang, and I saw from the caller ID that it was Kanesha.

  She spoke immediately. “I’m across the street right now. I’ll be over in two minutes.” She ended the call.

  Frowning, I put down the phone. “Kanesha says she’s across the street and will
be here in two minutes.” I got up from the table. “I’m going to look out the front door and see what’s going on.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Melba said. She and Diesel were right on my heels as I hurried to the front of the house.

  I opened the door, and we looked out to see a couple of police cars, plus a county patrol car, pulled up in front of Gerry Albritton’s house. As we watched, one of the policemen came out of the house, accompanied by Billy Albritton. The officer led him to a patrol car and put him inside.

  Kanesha came out of the house carrying a bag. She stopped to speak to the police officer before she came across the street toward us.

  When she reached us, I asked her, “What’s going on?”

  At the same time, Melba asked, “Are you arresting Billy?”

  Kanesha said, “Let’s go inside, why don’t we?”

  We obeyed her request, and when I had shut the door behind the deputy, she faced our inquisitive expressions and explained. “Yes, Mr. Albritton is being arrested for basically breaking in to the house. The police officer caught him trying to sneak out with this.” She brandished the bag, and I recognized it as an evidence bag.

  “What’s in it?” I asked.

  Kanesha pulled a tissue from her pocket and then carefully extracted the object with the tissue—to protect any fingerprints, I supposed.

  She held an old notebook that appeared to be falling apart.

  THIRTY-THREE

  “That doesn’t look much like it could be worth risking arrest for,” I said as I led the way to the kitchen.

  “It must be,” Kanesha said, “because he did risk it, and got caught.”

  “What’s in it?” Melba asked.

  “Let’s find out.” Kanesha turned to me. “Would you mind laying down a couple of clean paper towels for me to put this on?”

  “Of course,” I said. As I was placing the paper towels on the table, Azalea returned to the kitchen.

  Mother and daughter eyed each other. Kanesha spoke first.

  “Hello, Mama, how are you?”

  “Fine,” Azalea replied. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” Kanesha said.

  Melba and I exchanged glances. Watching these two women reminded me of two lionesses circling each other, one waiting for the other to make a false move. Kanesha had not softened her stance on her mother’s chosen employment, and Azalea had not given in on her right to work however she saw fit.

  This standoff could go on for a while. I coughed, and Kanesha’s gaze shifted to me. “Can we see what’s in the notebook?” I asked.

  I looked down at the ragged old thing, frayed around the edges. It was really more of a tablet, now that I got a better view of it.

  “That looks like those tablets we used to take to school in first grade,” Melba said. “Remember them? And those big pencils we learned to write with?”

  “That’s exactly what it is.” The red cover had faded badly, but if you peered at it closely enough, you could see the words Big Chief and the design of a Native American in a feather headdress on it.

  Using the tissue, Kanesha drew back the cover, and we all bent to see the words written there. The first page was covered with one sentence, line after line: I am Jerry Albritton.

  Kanesha flipped a page. The same thing: that one sentence written over and over in childish printing. She kept turning the pages. The writing began to change, the printed letters becoming more precise, more to scale. Eventually the print gave way to cursive writing. Every single page, however, contained nothing but that one sentence, line after line.

  I glanced at Melba, and I could see the tears ready to flow. I knew how she felt. That poor little boy, doing what he could to hold on to his identity. I could only imagine how he felt, being ripped from his family and given to strangers. He was old enough to remember his own name, though he immediately was given a new one. From the evidence of the tablet, with the handwriting changing over time, Jerry had been determined never to forget who he really was. It was heartbreaking.

  Melba sank into a chair and delved into her purse for tissues. While she dabbed at her eyes, I pulled out my handkerchief to wipe my own.

  “This means something to you both,” Kanesha said. “Is it related to what you wanted to tell me?”

  “Yes,” I said. “You’d better sit down.” I pulled out my chair and settled back, handkerchief curled up in my right hand. Diesel, from the first moment he sensed Melba’s emotional state, had moved to her side, rubbing against her legs and meowing occasionally. She smiled gratefully down at him and rubbed his head.

  She looked up for a moment. “Charlie, will you tell Kanesha the story? I don’t think I could get through it right now.”

  “Sure.” I first explained the source of Melba’s information, then launched into the story. I pruned as many unnecessary details as I could, but it still took several moments to relate. Kanesha had her notebook and pen ready from the moment I started, and she jotted things down throughout my retelling of the tale. When I finished, she put down her pen and stared broodingly at the tablet.

  Azalea, who had hovered in the background the whole time, suddenly blew her nose, startling all of us.

  When I glanced her way, I could see she was upset. Kanesha got up, apparently concerned, and approached her mother. “Mama, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  Azalea nodded. “That’s such a sad story,” she said. “I remember that boy Ronnie. Every time I saw him, I knew he had a sad heart. I never saw real joy in him.”

  Melba began to cry again, and I struggled not to get emotional myself. Even Kanesha seemed to be affected. She stared at her mother, and Azalea reached out and touched her daughter’s cheek. Kanesha sighed, Azalea’s hand fell away, and Kanesha resumed her seat.

  No one spoke for a moment. Kanesha closed the tablet and put it back into the evidence bag. To break the mood, I decided to ask a question.

  “Did Billy Albritton say anything about this?” I gestured toward the notebook. “I’m wondering how he even knew about it.”

  “Didn’t say a word,” Kanesha said, “even though the officer caught him with it in his hands. It will have his fingerprints on it, so he can’t deny having it in his possession.”

  “Do you think Gerry showed it to him?” Melba asked. “Maybe that was why they were arguing that day when you heard them.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” I said. “She must have shown him. Where did she keep it?”

  “In a dressing case with a false bottom,” Kanesha said. “He had to have known ahead of time where it was. The officers who searched the house had overlooked it. I checked it, and it would have been hard to spot unless someone knew what to look for.”

  “Dressing case?” Melba said. “Not many people use those anymore. I don’t.”

  “It’s an antique one,” Kanesha said. “Heavy and not too practical, if you ask me, but it’s well-used.”

  “One thing I still don’t understand,” Melba said. “Charlie wouldn’t talk about it much, but maybe you can answer it. Why was Ronnie Halbert going around pretending to be a woman?”

  I wondered if Kanesha would come clean with Melba. I watched the deputy as she regarded Melba with her usual cool detachment.

  “She wasn’t pretending,” Kanesha said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Ronnie Halbert went through a gender reassignment operation twenty years ago or more.”

  The revelation obviously shocked Melba. She now appeared incapable of speech. Not a state she often found herself in, I knew. She stared at Kanesha and continued to stroke Diesel’s head.

  Ronnie Halbert. I didn’t know why it had taken me so long to make the connection, but I suddenly figured out the use of the name Ronni Halliburton. Close to Ronnie Halbert, but different enough so that people probably wouldn’t connect the two. Unless they happened to know who Ronnie Halbert really was, I d
ecided.

  “Is this story going to help your case?” I asked.

  “It’s filled in the major gaps in Gerry Albritton’s history,” Kanesha said. “Now that I have the name Ronnie Halbert, I should be able to dig up more information and find out where he was for all those years.”

  “I wonder if Ronnie joined one of the armed forces,” I said. “That was apparently the speculation at the time he disappeared.”

  “We’ll search military records, too,” Kanesha said. “The most important point about this backstory, however, is the connections it gives me to the suspects.”

  Melba finally seemed to have recovered from the shock of learning about Gerry’s sex change. “Are you any closer to making an arrest?”

  “Maybe,” Kanesha said. “I’ll be questioning Mr. Albritton about breaking into his sister’s house. He has a lot of explaining to do. I found two more witnesses from the party who say they also saw him briefly.”

  “His other sister was there, too,” Melba said.

  Kanesha nodded. “Yes, I’ve been tracking her movements as well, based on witness statements.”

  “His other sister?” I asked, puzzled. I remembered Melba had mentioned this sister several times, but I couldn’t recall if she had mentioned a name.

  “You know her, Charlie,” Melba said in a chiding tone. “She lives down the street from you.”

  When I still looked blank, Kanesha said, “Mrs. Betty Camden. Married to the lawyer.”

  Light dawned. Betty Camden. Now I remembered Melba mentioning a sister named Betty when she said she wanted to talk to Billy Albritton. She hadn’t told me that she was Betty Camden, of all people.