Crooked as a Dog's Hind Leg

by Toni L. P. Kelner

  "Haven't they started yet?" he demanded.

  "Not yet. I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time." It was hard to keep that last part from sounding critical, but Wynette couldn't help it. It seemed to her that the least Duke could do was to be there for her surgery.

  He shot her a look, but must not have been sure how she meant it. "I got caught in the traffic on Highway 321——I bet the doctor got stuck in it, too. Haven't you heard what's going on out there?"

  She shook her head.

  "Those morons we've got for police around here finally caught up with the hijackers! Then the hijackers tried to make a break for it, and took off down the highway in a stolen tractor-trailer, but they jackknifed and spilled the load all over the highway. You never saw such a commotion in your life. Must have been a dozen police cruisers there, and reporters, and a clean-up crew, and I don't know who all was wandering around, getting in the way.”

  Duke turned on the TV, looking for more news about the wreck. After watching the live coverage, Wynette didn't blame Duke for being late. Traffic was still backed up for miles.

  Eventually the nurse came in and told them the doctor had finally arrived, and that they'd be ready in a little while. Duke went to get a cup of coffee, but said he’d be back before they took her into the operating room.

  Just to distract herself, Wynette kept watching the news, even though they kept repeating the same story over and over again. They said part of the problem with the traffic was the boxes of cargo all over the highway, and the way cars were going out of their way to keep from hitting them.

  "I wonder what's in those boxes," Wynette said to herself.

  "Bibles," a voice said. Belva was standing at the door. "They've got most of them out of the way, but people won't drive fast because they're afraid of running over a Bible. Don't that beat all?"

  "Bibles?" Wynette said.

  "That's right. You know how they call this part of the country the Bible Belt? One of the reporters from Charlotte said he's going to start calling 321 the Bible Beltway." Her friend shook her head. "I never saw so many big white Bibles with pictures of Jesus on the cover."

  "Is that right?" Wynette said feebly, trying not to look over at the one Duke had brought her the day before.

  Duke came in then, and when he say Belva, he thundered, "I told them to keep you out of here!"

  Belva just grinned. "Sorry about that, Cloyd. I just came by to tell Wynette about catching the hijackers. I thought she'd want to know, what with you being involved and all."

  Wynette swallowed hard, thinking of all the nights Duke had been gone with no explanation. "Belva, you're not saying that Duke...?" She couldn't find the right words to finish the question.

  "Him?" Belva said with a sneer. "Cloyd a hijacker? Not hardly. Cloyd isn't even in their league. The hijackers are career criminals, not pissants who beat up on women."

  "Why you—!" Duke started, his face nearly purple with rage.

  Belva went on as if he hadn't spoken. "No, what led us to the hijackers was that Bible Cloyd bought for you at the flea market. All he cared about was getting one cheap, so he didn't notice what was written on the back. It's printed right on there that this is a special gift for members of the PTL Club in Charlotte. A lot of those televangelists send prizes to people who send in enough money, but they don't actually sell them, so they shouldn't have had any at the flea market. That got me to thinking about that last truck that got hijacked. The driver was still unconscious, so he couldn't tell us what he'd been carrying, so I called the PTL Club, and sure enough, they were expecting a delivery. The flea market had already closed when I found out, so it took me until this morning to track down the folks that had been selling the Bibles. When I found them, darned if they didn't have the stolen truck. I called for backup, they ran, and we chased them down. And it was all because of your husband buying a Bible he should have known was stolen."

  "Don't blame me if you can't catch a bunch of thieving sons of bitches," Duke said.

  Belva smiled, but Wynette thought it looked more like she was baring her teeth. "Maybe they are thieving sons of bitches, but I bet none of them are the kind of weasel who'd lie to his wife about her needing to have her tubes tied."

  "What?" Wynette said, not sure she'd heard her friend right.

  "Shut your mouth!" Duke bellowed. Wynette didn't know which of them he was talking to, but it didn't matter, because neither of them were listening.

  "I suppose you know Dr. Patel got caught in the traffic jam, too," Belva said. "He left his car to come see if we needed his help, and since one of the hijackers had banged his head up pretty good when the truck went over, Patel helped sew him up and then rode over here in the ambulance with him. I came, too, to guard the hijacker, and we got to talking on the way. I knew he was supposed to do your surgery, and apologized for making him late, and he said it was no big deal because it's elective anyway." She repeated the word. "Elective."

  "Elective means I don't have to have it done," Wynette said slowly.

  "That's right. So I asked the doctor why you were doing it, and he told me what Duke said to him. Duke lied, Wynette, high, wide, and handsome."

  "What?" Wynette looked over at her husband. He looked as if he were about ready to explode.

  Belva said, "He told the doctor there was a history of miscarriages in your family."

  "My mama and sister did miscarry."

  "He also told Patel that you were an only child because your mother miscarried a dozen times before dying in childbirth."

  "That's not true. I've got a sister and two brothers, and Mama only died a few years ago."

  "Dr. Patel told Duke that even with what happened with your mother, there's no reason you should have any problems, but Duke told him you don't want to risk it, that you don't want children. That's the only reason he agreed to do the operation."

  "Those papers I signed..." Wynette said slowly.

  "Those papers said you knew it was an elective procedure."

  Wynette put her hands over her face, wanting to hide from it all. But she knew she couldn't hide anymore. "Is it true, Duke? Is it true that there's nothing wrong with me?"

  "Who are you going to believe? This bitch or me?"

  "You told me I couldn't have babies, when the only reason I can't is because you don't want any." She stared at him——he'd done so much to her, but this was unthinkable. "You don't want me to have anybody, do you?"

  "You listen here," he said, "I'm not going to have any brats squalling all night long, and I'm not going to have dirty diapers stinking up the place, and I'm not going to have my house looking like a pigsty. You're going to have that operation, and that's that."

  "Good Lord, Duke," Wynette said. She was trying to take it in, but all she could do was wonder if that counted as taking the Lord's name in vain. Then she thought about the hijackers, who'd stolen Bibles, and the Bible Duke had bought from them, that had helped Belva track them down. The Bibles blocking the highway had made Dr. Patel late, which had given Belva a chance to find out that Duke was lying.

  Maybe it wasn't a lightning bolt or parting the Red Sea, but surely that was some kind of a miracle.

  "I'm not having my tubes tied," Wynette said.

  "The hell you say!" Duke said.

  "You heard me. I'm not having my tubes tied." She sat up as far as she could. "Duke, I've put up with more from you than any woman should have to, but I'm not putting up with this. I want babies." Duke started to speak, but before he could get the words out, she said, "I don't care if you want any or not, because I'm leaving you anyway."

  "Like hell you are!" He raised one hand, but suddenly Belva was between him and Wynette's bed, her hand on the butt of her gun.

  "You touch her, and I'll take you down right here and now."

  He wanted to push past her, Wynette knew he did, but for once, he was afraid.

  "Belva, you know the law better than I do," Wynette said. "Will I have any trouble getting a divorce?"

/>   "Not hardly," Belva said. "With the hospital records and the reports I've filed about Cloyd, you could get every dollar he has while you're at it. Hell, with the right judge, you could get away with killing him." Belva looked as if she thought that wouldn't be a bad idea.

  Wynette watched Duke's face change colors for a few seconds, then said, "Go away, Duke. I don't want to see you again unless it's in court."

  "Oh, you'll see me again," he said. He glared at her, then stomped out.

  Wynette watched until he was gone, then said, "That's that."

  "It's a start," Belva said, "but you heard what he said. I just know he's going to try something. Even with the law on your side, it's going to be hard."

  "I know. Oprah says that when you finally leave an abuser is the most dangerous time." But maybe because she'd already had one miracle, it didn't seem so much to hope for another. "Belva, can you arrest Duke for making me miscarry?"

  "You bet. He'll probably get out on bail, but I ought to be able to hold him long enough to get you settled someplace safe. You'll want to get a restraining order against him, too——I can help with that."

  "Thank you, Belva."

  "And you know what? If I mention to those hijackers just how I found them, they might take care of Cloyd for you."

  It was tempting, but Wynette had to say, "That probably wouldn't be a good thing to do." But she did add, "Though it might not hurt to let Duke think you were going to do it."

  The two of them laughed, and Wynette couldn't remember when a laugh had felt so good.

  The nurse came in then and said, "The doctor's ready."

  "Well, I'm not," Wynette said, still laughing. "And I sure would appreciate it if you'd get this needle out of my arm."

  It took a while for her and Belva to explain enough to satisfy the nurse, and then Dr. Patel had to come hear it for himself, but eventually everything got sorted out. Well, not everything. It was going to take Belva some time to get the warrants and all ready so she could arrest Duke, and once Dr. Patel knew what had really happened to Wynette, he wanted to run more tests to make sure she was all right. So she was going to have to spend another night in the hospital. But now that she knew it was the last time, she didn't mind so much.

  Once she was alone, Wynette reached for her Bible. She'd given the stolen one to Belva for evidence, but she still had the one Reverend Sweeney had given her. She looked at the cover closely, but it didn't look as if the dripping water pitcher had left a mark after all. She opened it and started looking for a verse she knew had to be there. Didn't it say somewhere that the Lord helps those who help themselves?

  OLD DOG DAYS

  This story features Andy Norton, retired Byerly chief of police and the father of current chief Junior Norton.

  "When did you last see him?" Andy asked Payson Smith, but instead of answering, Payson glared at his wife Doreen.

  "Around five–thirty, when I got back from Hardee's with dinner," Doreen said. "I cook most nights, but it was so hot that day that I hated to get the kitchen heated up."

  Andy nodded understandingly, which he'd done for so many years that it looked pretty convincing. "Five–thirty yesterday evening."

  Then Brian piped up with, "It couldn't have been yesterday. We had Kentucky Fried Chicken yesterday, and pizza the night before that. It must have been Wednesday." The boy smirked, pleased with himself for proving his stepmother wrong, not to mention the dig he'd gotten in about her cooking.

  "Jesus Christ, Doreen!" Payson exploded. "Are you saying my dog's been missing for three solid days and you didn't even notice?"

  "You know I never go out back," she whined, "especially not as hot as it's been. Maybe if we got one of those above-ground pools..." Then, probably realizing that it wasn't a good time to bring that up, she said, "Besides, it's Brian's job to take Wolf his food and water. He's the one who should have figured out he was gone."

  Payson turned his glare onto his son, and it was Doreen's turn to smirk.

  "Well?" Payson prompted.

  "You know I was over at Earl's every day," he said, whining just like his stepmother. "She knew that."

  "Since when do you tell me where you're going to be?" Doreen shot back.

  Andy could tell this was an old argument, so he spoke over them. "Then the last time either of you saw Wolf was Wednesday night, and since Payson was gone until late Friday night, nobody noticed he was gone until this morning. Is that right?"

  Doreen and Brian nodded while Payson tried to decide which one deserved to be glared at more.

  Andy wouldn't have minded glaring a little himself, but his target wasn't handy. Deputy Mark Pope was probably still at the police station, sitting at a desk he didn't deserve.

  If Andy's wife had been there, she'd have told him it was his own fault. It's just that after having been Byerly's chief of police for so long, it was hard to keep from sticking his nose in. He did resist most of the time. After all, he'd trained his daughter Junior as his replacement, and he knew she could handle pretty much anything that came along. Plus she had enough sense to ask for help when she needed it. But Junior was out of town, which left Mark Pope in charge, and that was a horse of a different color.

  Mark had been Andy's deputy before he was Junior's, so Andy knew the man wasn't stupid, exactly, but also knew he didn't have the first bit of imagination. Since Andy figured it was nigh onto impossible to solve a tricky case without a little imagination, when he heard about Missy Terhune's murder, it only seemed polite to go down to the station and offer advice.

  That's when Andy discovered that Mark had some imagination after all; he imagined that he'd been done wrong when Junior was made police chief over him. Andy didn't know if it was because Mark was a man and Junior was a woman or because Mark was older or what, but Mark sure thought he deserved Junior's job. With her out of town, he was bound and determined to prove it by solving this case on his own.

  Not that Mark said that, of course. All he actually said was that he had the situation under control, but the color his face turned after Andy pushed for details meant that the murder was a long way from being solved. When Andy made a couple of suggestions, Mark got mad.

  That's when he said there was something Andy could do to help, and Andy said he would, not knowing what Mark had in mind. He'd even let Mark deputize him for the day, the way they did folks who helped with parking at the Walters Mill picnic. Only then had he given Andy the missing dog report and told him to take care of it. To add insult to injury, the dog lived on Butler Street, just two doors down from the murder site.

  Still, if Andy had learned one thing in his years as police chief, it was that people can get just as upset over a missing dog as over a murder, so he had to take it seriously.

  "Was Wolf all right when you saw him Wednesday night?" he asked Doreen.

  "I guess," she said. "Maybe suffering a little from the heat, but then again, so was I." She wiped her forehead and sighed, probably still thinking about that swimming pool.

  "Did you hear anything out of him that night? Or any time after that?"

  "Not a peep," she said. "Now that you mention it, that must mean he was gone Wednesday night."

  "How do you figure that?"

  "Because I didn't hear anything. That fool dog barks his head off any time anybody comes near the house, any hour of the day or night."

  "He's supposed to bark," Payson said, outraged. "He's a watchdog."

  Doreen just sniffed.

  "Are y'all sure he didn't get out on his own?" Andy asked. Lord knows, if he only had Doreen and Brian to depend on, he'd get away any way he could.

  "Yes, sir," Payson said firmly. "Come take a look at his pen." He led the way out the back door, and Andy noticed that neither Doreen or Brian made a move to leave the air-conditioned house.

  What little grass there was in the backyard was brown, making Andy wonder if lawn care was Brian's responsibility, too. Next to the house was a large chicken–wire pen enclosing a patch of dusty red ear
th and a bone–dry metal water bowl. There was a nice–sized dog house for shade, but Andy kept looking at that water bowl, wondering how long Doreen and Brian had let Wolf go without water during the hottest part of Byerly's long summer.

  Payson must have been thinking the same thing because he said, "I don't understand how Brian can treat that dog so bad. Wolf's been part of the family nearly as long as he has. Hell, me and my ex fought more over who was going to get Wolf than we did over who was going to get Brian."

  Andy didn't say anything, but he thought that might be the problem right there.

  "And Doreen loves dogs," Payson went on. "When my ex wanted to keep Wolf, Doreen fought it tooth and nail. She said she needed him for company while I'm on the road, but we hadn't been married but a month when she found out she's allergic so I had to put him outside. I made him this pen and got the best dog house I could find, but I know the old fellow thought he'd done something wrong."

  Though everybody in Byerly knew Doreen had broken up Payson's first marriage, and Andy figured that she'd insisted on keeping the dog to spite the ex–wife, Andy kept what he was thinking to himself as he walked around the pen. There were no holes dug under the fence and no gaps anywhere big enough for anything larger than his daughter Denise's toy poodle to have slipped out. "Wolf is a big dog, isn't he?"

  "One of the biggest German shepherds Dr. Josie's ever seen," Payson said proudly. "We took him to her when we first got him, and she could tell that he was going to be a good-sized, strong dog. Smart as a whip, too."

  Andy fiddled with the latch on the gate, but not even a canine genius could have opened it by himself. "I don't want to cause any trouble, Payson, but are you sure nobody left the gate open?"