Armed and Outrageous (An Agnes Barton Mystery)

by Johns, Madison

  I opened the door and I gasped. Just when I thought I had saw everything, once again Eleanor surprised me.

  I slammed the door shut. That’s what I get for being so damn snoopy.

  Stumbling back into the dining room, I sat down losing four more games of Euchre until Eleanor surfaced with a smiling Mr. Wilson. I gave a thought to how old folks, men in particular, take a long time to seal the deal, and I had a new respect for Andrew.

  “What do you think of the recent murder in town?” I asked Elsie.

  “Kind of strange that the person that’s responsible waited all these years to reoffend,” Elsie said.

  I nodded and continued, glad I was able to bring the subject up. “I heard the Robinson’s former handyman never left town.” I looked over my glass of punch, sipping.

  Elsie scoffed. “That simpleton couldn’t hurt a fly. He’s in a wheelchair these days and hardly speaks a word.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “In a cabin two miles away. The Robinson murders destroyed his life.”

  I patted her hand. “Not a good suspect then is he, dear?”

  Elsie met my eyes head on. “I can’t see Billy hurting anyone. Hardly the type to rape and murder anyone, much less an entire family!”

  “Do you know the exact location where he lives?” I cleared my throat. “I'd like to clear up any suspicion the police may have.”

  “Aggie, it's not like you're the law,” Eleanor jabbered, straightening several errant curls dangling over her brow.

  Elsie ignored Eleanor and volunteered. “I can show you on a map.”

  Elsie stood and pulled out a map, and I glanced at it. Realizing I knew the area she pinpointed, I hoped Billy was still in the area.

  I stood and thanked everyone for a lovely night and pulled Eleanor outside. She blew kisses to Mr. Wilson, and it left a bitter taste of bile in my mouth.

  The image of Eleanor on her knees, for a man the likes of him was too much for me, and while I tried my best to forget what I had seen in the bathroom, it appeared that the image was burned into the back of my eyelids for eternity.

  We barely made it outside before I lit into her. “What were you thinking, Eleanor?”

  “Damn, Aggie, what are you hollering about? You were doing that and more last night with Andrew.”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “And Mr. Wilson is none of yours.” She smiled. “At my age, the pickings are mighty slim. I have to get what I can get.”

  “I wish I had never opened that door.”

  “Humph! That makes two of us. You broke our rhythm, girl!”

  She faced the window and ignored me until we pulled into her driveway. “Aggie, you know we really are a pair,” she fidgeted with her keys as she slid out.

  Eleanor rounded the car and gave me an odd look. “Maybe you should stay at my place,” Eleanor suggested. “Are you sure you're gonna be able to – “

  “I'll be fine,” I insisted, yelling from my open window. Although I wondered as my head spun a bit. Eleanor presented herself, leaning in the window. “What!”

  “Oh, Aggie, don't be such a sour puss.” She pouted. “You're not gonna stay mad at me are you?”

  “No, now please let me leave before it gets much later.”

  “Fine, but I think it would be a safer bet to stay the night,” she said over her shoulder as she trounced away.

  I pulled onto US 23, thinking I should have really stayed the night as Eleanor suggested.

  As I drove toward home, two images struggled for prominence in my head. One I really detested: Eleanor with Wilson. The other was the idea of confronting decrepit Billy out in the middle of the woods, to figure out if he was or was not a multiple murderer, as Elsie, smart about cards, was no judge of character.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I journey home, enjoying the breeze from my open window. “Lord knows the breeze might help me think straight,” I muttered to hear myself. First thing tomorrow I planned on locating Billy Chambers, the suspect in the Robinson case. I'd find Billy if my life depended on it, though I kind of hoped it wouldn't come to that. But with goons in town who really knew what might happen?

  I had a hankering for munchies. Anything smacking of the salty potato chips and chocolate variety sort would really hit the spot right about now. It didn't take much arm-wrestling, so I pulled into Quick Stop for a late night snack, although I reckoned it wasn't much past eight. I'd have gone to Taco Bell, but I thought it prudent not to drive any more than necessary.

  I concentrated hard on not stumbling as I made my way inside, where I grabbed a bag of Better Made sweet barbecue chips, ripped the bag open and shoved chips into my mouth, while I made my way toward the register. I wouldn't normally have been so ravenous, but drinking had that effect on me.

  When I set the bag on the counter, chips pooled out. I started cramming them into my mouth like I hadn't eaten in a week, but the teen working the cash register barely glanced up. Her eyes were glued to the pages of what appeared a Japanese anime book. She looked just like the illustration on the cover too, pink hair all but covering her face. She glanced over the top of the book at me like I'd interrupted her from performing brain surgery. Only one eye was visible however. Still with that single eye, she managed to stare a hole through me with this oddly blank, dazed look for a moment. After this awkward moment in which I felt like a fugitive seen on America's Most Wanted, the clerk then gave both my opened bag of chips, barbeque stained face, and equally stained hands a careful inspection only a girl of her age would do. When she rolled that one visible eye, she resembled a Cyclopes. Yes, the elderly were supposed to be seen and not heard, and tucked in bed long before six.

  A grin formed on the girl's lips. “You stoned?”

  I was taken aback by the assumption and spat. “No!” I squared my shoulders. “Why don't you cut that pink hair of yours before you get cross-eyed.” I grinned. “Last time I checked, you need two eyes to make proper change and perhaps see things properly.”

  She leaned toward me. “Last time I checked, old hags like you were home eating cat food long before now.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You oughta mind your elders.”

  The girl scoffed. “You sound just like my parents.” She rolled her eye again.

  There was no use in arguing with this kid, so I started counting pennies to pay the girl for my purchase.

  “You got to be kidding me?” the girl exclaimed, slapping her head with one hand.

  She never said a word after that, I'm betting even she knew arguing was pointless. As I trounced out the door, she shouted aloud. “Y'all don't come back now!”

  I made my way to my car, pulled my keys out, and sat inside. I laid my head back for a minute and that is all it took.

  * * *

  I jerked my head up and smacked it on the steering wheel when someone rapped on my Mustang window. I turned my head and saw Sheriff Peterson shining his flashlight through the window directly into my eyes. It felt like a laser searing into my pupils, but ignoring the pain, I powered down my window.

  “Oh thank god, I thought you were dead,” Sheriff Peterson said. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I just have a headache.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “Have you been drinking?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not!”

  “You smell kind of strange.”

  “It might be the barbeque chips.” I held up the bag and offered him some.

  “It might be spiked punch. Weren’t you at Elsie’s card party?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Then you have been drinking because everyone in town knows what you older folks do at those parties.”

  I started laughing. “No, I don’t think you do.” Visions of Eleanor and Mr. Wilson rushed in to haunt me.

  “Were you driving?”

  “No, I flew here. A big bird carried me and my car and placed us here.”

  “Agnes, please step out of the car.”


  “What for?”

  “A sobriety test.”

  “You have to be kidding because there’s no way I’m doing that.”

  “You’ll leave me no choice but to place you under arrest.”

  I sighed, pushed open the door and struggled out of the car, not an easy task considering how long I may have spent asleep in this parking lot.

  “Walk a straight line, Agnes.”

  I know he wanted to get back at me, but this was a bit too much. Walking a straight line is not the easiest of tasks for anyone my age, and with my hip trouble, I imagined this could go south real quick.

  I put my hands out and struggled to walk a straight line, but I swayed numerous times from the invisible line. I frowned.

  “This is hardly fair! I have problems with my hip.”

  He frowned as if lost in thought. “Say your ABCs backwards.”

  “You have to be kidding!” I shouted. “I’m lucky if I can say them frontwards.”

  “You leave me no choice but to place you under arrest pending the outcome of a blood test.”

  “Did your mother drop you when you were a child because you are making less and less sense all the time?”

  “Turn around.”

  “You turn around and haul your ass home. I wasn’t even driving. Is there some law against sleeping in your car?”

  Two state police cruisers pulled into the parking lot, and Trooper Sales walked forward. He shifted back on his hip when he saw me. “What’s going on here?”

  “I asked her – “

  “I got a little drowsy and pulled over. I must have fallen asleep. The sheriff woke me up and accused me of drinking and driving.”

  “Were the keys in the ignition?”

  “Nope.”

  Trooper Sales stared at the sheriff. “She doesn’t seem drunk to me.”

  “She was at Elsie Bradford’s card party. Jeez, it’s known that all those old coots get lit up when they go there.”

  “Old coots, well I oughta... “

  “You have no idea what medication she’s on and we may be keeping her from her nighttime pills. Go home, Agnes, I’ll follow you there,” Trooper Sales said.

  I smiled at the sheriff and twitched my nose at him. What an idiot.

  I got into my car and drove home while the trooper followed me from a safe distance. When I got home, I waved to the trooper and walked inside.

  Duchess was lying on the couch. She stretched once, meowed and curled back up where she was lying. I noticed her bowl was still full of food, but one of my beloved plants lay broken on the floor. I knew leaving Duchess alone all day wasn’t good for her disposition or my plants. I would try to transplant it later, but orchids are hard enough to keep alive under the best of care.

  I crawled into my bed with my clothes and shoes on. I couldn't care less. If it hadn’t been for the trooper, I’d be rotting in a jail cell tonight because the punch at Elsie’s party was that strong. I still felt a little drunk, and the room spun. I could deal with a little buzz, but not the spinning or jail fine. I was on a fixed income!

  I still couldn’t believe Eleanor had put anything of Mr. Wilson’s anywhere near her lips. Perhaps it wasn’t that shocking for Eleanor, but why at the card party?

  “It’s so not on my to do list,” I confided to Duchess.

  She was busy at her food dish and didn't care to reply with her mouth full.

  “Now Andrew, Duchess, he's another story. His lips are firm yet gentle. His body's muscular not a rag of bones like Mr. Wilson.

  I fell asleep hoping I’d remember that I owed the trooper, and I’d find a way to pay him back for helping me out tonight.

  * * *

  I fell out of bed when I heard someone pounding on my door. I made my way there, stepping over Duchess.

  I yanked it open and saw Rosa Lee Hill standing there. “I’m sorry I woke ya. I was kinda hoping I could use your oven.” She walked in with a plastic bag loaded with who-knows-what. “It’s the bake sale today. Remember?”

  “Why can’t you bake at home?”

  “It’s already full if you need to know. You know my brownies always sell well.”

  I remembered. I made coffee and readied myself for the day, and poured coffee for both of us.

  “I heard you had a great time at Elsie’s last night.”

  I jerked my head up. “I suppose.”

  “That is something about Elsie, don’t you think?”

  “Elsie?”

  “Yes, her son was one of the main suspects in the Robinson murders. Now he’s a suspect in Stella’s murder too. They are tearing up the woods looking for him.”

  It dawned on me how Elsie knew so much about Billy Chambers. I had no idea he was her son, not that I’d blame her for failing to tell anyone.

  “Sheriff Peterson?”

  “No, the good ole boys.”

  “Your boys?”

  “Yup, I tried to tell em’ to leave it alone, but you know how boys can be.” She shrugged.

  Rosa Lee’s boys, Curt and Chris, were what I’d call a menace. They had spent most of their lives in and out of juvenile hall when young, and jail cells when they were of age. They were repeat offenders but thus far had eluded any charges that would keep them behind bars.

  I loved Rosa Lee to death, but her boys made me want to hold my purse closer and keep my doors locked. I had heard tell they were part of the militia hereabouts, but I had no way to tell if this were true or not.

  “That’s not a good idea. Billy Chambers has never been officially charged in that case.”

  “I know, I know! But you know my boys.”

  I waited for Rosa Lee to finish and leave. I raced over to Eleanor’s, and got her ass in gear. We jumped into Eleanor’s car and headed off down US 23. When we arrived, we followed a pathway that led to a shack in the woods that consisted of boards nailed together with enough gaps between them to, as Mark Twain would say, “throw a cat through.” I couldn't see anyone living here in the winter.

  We walked around and noticed firewood was scattered, and clothing strewn across the yard. I noticed a clothesline with a blanket strung over it. A silhouette appeared from behind. Sure looked like someone was standing back there, but I had to be sure.

  I peeked on the other side and saw a man I didn’t recognize. He looked dirty, and his clothes had a stench about them. The clothesline was wrapped around the man’s neck, and his eyes and mouth were open. I observed a bug crawl out of his mouth, and I tore into my purse, retrieved a handy wipe, and spit out the vomit that filled my mouth.

  I knew he had been dead for quite awhile, three hours at least.

  I jerked my head away. I couldn’t look anymore, and Eleanor’s lips quivered.

  “I’m so tired of finding dead people,” Eleanor said.

  “Me, too.” First Stella, now this. In a town the size of Tadium, it was enough to call a crime spree.

  “Who is he?”

  I pulled my cell phone out, dialed 911, and alerted them that we had found a body. The dispatcher took my name and location, assured herself I was in no danger, and assured me police were on the way in the unit of time she called a jiffy.

  “I think it might be Billy Chambers,” I told Eleanor once I'd hung up on the 911 lady who kept shouting, “Stay on the line!”

  “The one you were asking Elsie about?”

  “Yeah, while you were playing footsie with Mr. Wilson.”

  “I'll have you know, I played with more than his feet!”

  I breathed in such a gasp of air at this, I feared I might hyperventilate. Then I got back to the problem at hand, saying, “Chambers here worked as a handyman for the Robinsons.”

  “Why kill him? I know he couldn’t have killed Stella.” Eleanor pointed toward the cabin.

  I looked in and saw a wheelchair lying on its side with one of the wheels spinning ever so slightly with the breeze.

  Minutes later we heard cars pulling up, and I knew help had arrived.

 
Trooper Sales raced forward, followed by three other troopers and Sheriff Peterson.

  “I’m not sure, but I think this might be Billy Chambers.” My voice trembled when I spoke to Sheriff Peterson. “I heard tell somebody might have come after him. I think they thought he killed Stella, but I don’t think that’s right.”

  “Why is that?” Sheriff Peterson asked.

  “For one thing, he was confined to a wheelchair, and that’s proof enough for me.”

  “I’m not so convinced.”

  If it were up to the sheriff he would close this case, but I knew this wasn’t as clear-cut as it appeared.

  I watched the troopers haul the man off the clothesline and lower him to the ground.

  Trooper Sales strolled over to where I stood. “Why are you here?”

  “I heard the Hill boys might be coming after Chambers.”

  “Chris and Curt Hill?” He scratched his head. “Who told you that?”

  “Their mother, Rosa Lee Hill.”

  “I see. You two need to leave before the medical examiner gets here, else he'll chew my ass up and spit it out.”

  “It’s getting awfully discouraging when everyone I want to question keeps ending up dead.”

  “I second that,” the trooper said as he walked away.

  We left and I noticed an ambulance heading in with a black sedan labeled medical examiner on the side. I tasted bile again, and I heard my stomach gurgle.

  I felt horrible.

  In a span of a few days, I had seen more death than I cared to. It made me think that finding Jennifer alive anytime soon less and less likely.

  “What now, where to next?” asked Eleanor, still in shock.

  “We do have a bake sale to get to, remember?” With that, we piled into El's car and got out of there.

  Chapter Twenty -Three

  I intermittently trembled as I drove toward the fundraiser. When I glanced over toward Eleanor, I noted her white face. We were both rattled. Finding Billy's body was an unexpected turn of events. Here I was worried about questioning him, all the while worried that he really was a psycho killer – and now – dead!