by Tonya Kappes
“Regardless.” I wasn’t going to give in to the Zen world. I had to go to bed and rest for an early-morning ride to the trailer hood and wait until Marla Maria was out of the house so I could go in and find the agreement and any information about Chicken’s doctor. “Doctor!” I hit my palm on the steering wheel.
“What?” Hettie jumped and looked out the window.
“Sugar said something about the doctors and how Chicken wasn’t really sick.” I tapped the wheel with my finger. “If he wasn’t sick, then why did they say he died of pneumonia? And the doctor would have had to sign off on the death certificate because Marla Maria said she called the doctor to come over when Chicken wasn’t feeling well. The doctor came to her house and Chicken was dead.”
“I don’t remember that.” Chicken tapped his temple.
“What does that have to do with you? I mean, I get that you date Jack Henry and all, but . . .” Hettie’s eyes narrowed. Was she trying to read me?
“Jack Henry is over at Marla Maria’s right now. I have to help solve this murder or she’s going to try to get her claws into him.” I had to admit, playing the girlfriend card was coming in handy.
“Emma Lee Raines, I never pictured you as the jealous type.”
“I am.” I bit my lip looking over at Chicken Teater and talked to Hettie, but really directed it toward Chicken. “A woman scorned will do anything to get what she wants.”
Chapter 11
Hettie Bell was satisfied with my answer of a woman scorned because she didn’t make mention of the bar scene the rest of the way home. Apparently, Sugar Wayne didn’t make it onto his motorcycle or at least he didn’t catch up to us.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in and check around with you in case there is someone in there?” Hettie asked as we pulled up to Eternal Slumber. Hettie’s car was parked at the square from going to the opening ceremony of the Kentucky Festival of Caves.
“No. I’m sure they got what they wanted.” I wasn’t sure what it was that they wanted, because the only room torn up was Charlotte’s office. There was no way they were going to get into the elevator to get Chicken’s body or autopsy report.
I glanced over at the funeral home. It was eerily dark. I had never been scared of Eternal Slumber or the contents, but tonight it was a little different. Someone out there killed Chicken. They knew we had dug him up. No thanks to the media, it was obvious Chicken’s remains were taken to Eternal Slumber, and the entire state knew we had purchased the new equipment—again, no thanks to the media.
Music spewed from the gazebo in the square. There was a bongo player and guitar player, along with a hippie-looking girl singing her heart out. They weren’t on the opening ceremony venue. Apparently, they were visitors taking in the festival while exploring the caves.
“I might just go grab a Diet Coke from one of the food coaches.” I pointed to the lively group still gathered at a couple of the scattered picnic tables that the council had put out for the festival.
“I’m going home and taking a long, hot shower.” Hettie did a shimmy shake.
I laughed. I didn’t blame her. “Did Sugar sprinkle a little too much sugar on you?” I winked.
“Uh.” Hettie’s tongue protruded out of her mouth as her face scrunched up. “You owe me big time. So be ready to put on a painter’s cap. My yoga studio is ready to be painted.”
“Sure.” I nodded. I’d agree to paint, knowing that once I started she’d ask me to stop since I was so bad with a paintbrush, which was due to my impatience and just slapping it on.
I pulled into Eternal Slumber’s driveway and we got out. As we crossed the street, Hettie waved bye on her way to her car and I continued toward the group standing near the beer booth.
“Well, well. How is the star of the show?” O’Dell Burns stood up and stumbled over to the food cart. “You know”—the drink in his cup swashed up and over the rim as he pointed his index finger at me—“it’s not good for business to go digging up your clients.” He grinned.
“Not here, Mr. Burns.” I turned back around to the person working the booth. “I’ll have a Diet Coke.” I took out some cash from my purse, exchanging it for my drink.
“Why not?” O’Dell slowly rocked from heel to heel. “I think this is a good time,” he slurred his words as he held up the sloppy wet cup.
I walked over to the group from where he came. If I would have known he was there, I probably would have gone home and to bed. It was known around the Auxiliary group that O’Dell was a drinker and sometimes took a nip or two while working on a client, making business good for us.
“Hi, Beulah Paige.” I nodded when I saw her right in the middle of O’Dell’s group. “Does Granny know you are here supporting her competition?”
Where was her loyalty? Beulah Paige would stab you in the back every single time, using her gossiping tongue to do it.
“I didn’t realize Zula Fae was on my social calendar.” Beulah grinned from ear to ear and looked at each person in the circle of gossipers. She batted her fake lashes at me before she looked at O’Dell. “Isn’t that right, O’Dell?”
“That’s right.” O’Dell stumbled and fell into the spot next to Beulah on the bench. “So, Emma Lee, tell me why you went and dug up poor ol’ Chicken?”
“I don’t think that is any of your business.”
“It is when Marla Maria Teater paid me a visit to rebury her husband after you do God-knows-what to his body.” His words stung. Had Marla Maria really contacted Burns Funeral?
Steam poured from my gut and up into my mouth. “I haven’t heard from her. Besides, I’m still not going to tell you why.”
“As the new mayor of Sleepy Hollow, I promise here and now . . .” He stood up again, sloshing the contents of his cup all over Beulah’s long salt-and-pepper perfectly manicured hair, causing her to jump and shove him to the side, knocking him down. But that didn’t stop his loose lips. “I promise here and now that I will never let someone dig up your loved one from their eternal resting place.”
“And you think these people are going to elect a town drunk for their mayor?” I shouted at the top of my lungs and gestured to his little group. “And a man who is openly drinking in a public place—not to mention a dry town!”
“Over your crazy granny? I’m a shoo-in with her on the ticket.” O’Dell jumped up, coming nose to nose with me. I held my breath. If I took another whiff of the alcohol oozing out of his pores, I just might get drunk from the fumes. “Then you are crazy too. I’m a shoo-in.” His lip cocked up to one side.
“Over my dead body!” I balled my fist up and turned on my heels running smack-dab into a kid. “Watch it!”
“You watch it, funeral girl.” The kid, who was head and breast to me, was none other than Sugar Wayne. “Where’s my girl?”
“Where did you come from?” I asked and noticed the black marks on my shirt from Sugar’s dripping hair. In the distance, I could see flashing lights coming around the square and toward the funeral home.
“Watering Hole to claim my babe from you.” He jabbed me with his ringed finger. “Oh crap. The po-po.”
Sugar Wayne darted into the darkness as fast as his little five-foot frame could carry him.
“Tell my girl I’ll find her!” Sugar shouted from the dark abyss.
“You better watch yourself,” O’Dell warned. “I’m going to rule this city by taking care of the living and the dead.” His grin sent chills over my body.
“Like I said,” I glared at him, well aware that Jack Henry’s cop car had pulled into Eternal Slumber’s driveway. “Over my dead body.”
I turned back around and walked across the street to the funeral home wondering why Jack Henry still had the lights of the cruiser on.
“Well, I’d love to bury it.” O’Dell’s cackle echoed off the hollows of the caves, tauntin
g me over and over until the vibrations stopped.
“Granny?” I watched in shock as Jack Henry opened the back door of the car and removed a handcuffed Zula Fae Raines Payne with a big grin on her face. I took off running to them. “Jack! What are you doing?” I gasped.
“You need to keep a leash on her.” Jack whipped Granny around and uncuffed her.
“Where are your manners, Jack Henry Ross?” Granny rubbed each wrist. “Your momma will be getting a call from me.”
“Yes ma’am.” Jack took his hat off. “Be sure to tell her that I caught you trying to crawl through the window of Burns Funeral Home.”
“I’ll be.” Granny stomped. “I told you he stole my moped.”
“Wait.” I stood between Granny and Jack Henry, giving them a little distance. I knew Granny and so did Jack. There was no arguing with her. “O’Dell stole your moped?”
Jack Henry let out a big sigh and shook his head.
“He did!” Granny protested. “Ask him!”
“Emma Lee, honey.” Jack Henry’s slow Southern drawl when he said honey sent all reasoning out the window. “Can you please take Zula home?”
“Yes,” I muttered, giving him a little smile of gratitude. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll wait inside.” Jack Henry got in the car and turned off the lights and ignition.
“Come on Granny.” I took her by the elbow. “Tell me why you think O’Dell stole your moped.”
I made sure to take the back side of the square in fear we would see O’Dell and Beulah. That would send Granny over the edge even further.
“He has it out for me,” Granny said in a shaky voice. “He came to the courthouse right after you left and warned me that the first thing on his agenda was to ban mopeds from Sleepy Hollow. He claimed I was going to kill someone.” Granny stopped, the moon shone down on her face. There was stress in her eyes. “I’d never hurt a flea. Well, maybe a flea, but not a person.”
“I know, Granny.” I patted her hand and moved her along. The quicker I got her across to the Inn, the quicker I would be back at my place and looking at Jack Henry. I had to assess him to make sure Marla Maria didn’t get her claws into him. “What about the moped?”
“It’s gone!” she shrieked. “He left the chain.”
“How did he get the chain off?” I asked. The chain was the thickest thing I had ever seen, plus she had a heavy-duty lock on it.
“The key to the lock was on my keys.” Granny pouted. “I bet he stole them when he came into the Inn to eat lunch a couple of days ago. That’s when I heard him say he was running for mayor. That’s when I decided I had to run against him. Criminal.”
“Aren’t they all?” I snickered and walked up the steps of the Inn. “Go get some sleep. You are lucky Jack Henry didn’t haul you off to jail for breaking and entering. We will talk more in the morning. I’ll find the moped.”
Granny nodded and disappeared into the Inn.
The crowds had gone from the square and Sleepy Hollow was mostly silent except for the distant bongo drums that echoed throughout the dark night sky.
I had a lot to tell Jack Henry about Marla Maria and why I felt like she killed Chicken.
“Help . . .” The voice gasped for air. “Help me . . .”
“Hello?” I spoke into the dark. The only light was from the carriage lights around the square, which were really there for looks and thus were dim.
“Emma Lee . . .” The voice sounded a lot like O’Dell Burns. My eyes darted to the picnic table where I had left O’Dell gloating. There was a pair of legs sticking out from under the picnic table.
“Help!” I screamed and ran over to him. “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Help!” I fell to the ground when I saw blood coming from his side and scooped him into my arms. “It’s okay. Jack Henry is right across the street. He will help. Help! Help! Jack Henry!”
“Emma Lee?” Jack Henry appeared on the porch of Eternal Slumber and ran over when he saw me on the ground. He bolted down the stairs screaming something into his police radio. My mind was swirling and everything around me was twirling around.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered to O’Dell rocking him back and forth.
Chapter 12
Sleeping was virtually impossible after the attack on O’Dell Burns and the bags under my eyes were definitely showing it.
I grabbed my notebook off the bedside table and went through the clues I already had because somewhere there had to be a link between O’Dell’s attack, Granny’s moped theft, and the break-in at the funeral home. Somehow, they had to be connected, and connected to Chicken. But how?
“Chicken has money tied up in property and Marla Maria gets the money based on an agreement where she takes care of Lady Cluckington if something happens to Chicken. Oddly enough, Marla Maria filed for divorce a week before Chicken’s supposed pneumonia.” I read what I had written. “Marla Maria had the doctor come to her house, where he pronounced Chicken dead from pneumonia.”
I grabbed my phone and dialed Vernon Baxter.
“I’m here.” Vernon sounded out of breath. “I’m late because of all the news media, but I’m here.”
“I didn’t know you weren’t here. What’s up with the news media?” I asked.
“They have the entire town surrounded and are asking everything with two legs about Chicken and his death.” I could hear the sound of metal clinking in the background, which meant he was probably working on Chicken’s remains with the fancy new tools. “After Jack Henry decided to hold a press conference on the steps of the courthouse, the town got crowded.”
“He did what?” I gasped and grabbed the remote off the bedside table, flipping the TV on.
“What did you need? The quicker I get the evidence they need, the quicker Sleepy Hollow goes back to being sleepy.” Vernon took the words right out of my mouth.
“Did the doctor who pronounced Chicken dead sign the death certificate?” I pinned my phone between my ear and shoulder so I could write down the doctor’s name.
“Yes. Let me get his name.” Vernon put the phone down and the shuffling of papers was heard in the background. “Doctor Jeremy Finkel. F-I-N-K-E-L.”
“Got it. Thanks.” I hit the END button and immediately opened up the browser on my phone searching for Dr. Jeremy Finkel. When his information popped up, I wrote it in the notebook knowing I was going to have to go to Lexington and figure out how to get my hands on Chicken’s records.
I flipped back the pages to continue to read what clues I had just in case one of them sparked an idea. “Footprint, see picture on cell phone, feather from Granny’s kitchen.” I shut the notebook. There was only one way to see where the feather came from and see if Marla Maria owned the shoe that made the print from the kitchen.
“It’s about time you got up.” Chicken stood near the TV where the camera had focused in on Jack Henry walking to the podium.
“Shh!” I held my finger out to Chicken and pointed to the TV. Using the remote, I turned the volume up on the TV.
“I hope he’s going to say he arrested that two-bit—”
“Please.” I begged him to be quiet. “I’m trying to listen.”
The sound of cameras clicked, making it hard for me to hear Jack Henry’s opening remarks. He stepped closer to the plethora of microphones all tied up to the stand in front of him.
“Thank you for coming. I’m Sheriff Jack Henry Ross, here in Sleepy Hollow, Kentucky. I want to assure everyone that Sleepy Hollow is a safe place to visit. We encourage you to come and take part in our semi-annual Kentucky Cave Festival. For your piece of mind, we have added more security. It is true we have opened the case on the death of Colonel C. Teater, based on evidence that he was a victim of a homicide.” Jack Henry’s deep brown eyes held a serious look I had never seen in them. He meant business. “We are following some very sol
id leads and asking for the public to come forward if they know of anything that might seem suspicious around the time of Mr. Teater’s death four years ago.”
The cameras went crazy when Jack Henry took a deep breath.
“As for the attack on Mr. O’Dell Burns last night, we are asking for anyone who saw anything suspicious last night during the opening ceremony of the festival to come forward or call the number on the bottom of your TV screen. We’d like to talk to you. We do not believe the death of Mr. Teater and the attack on Mr. O’Dell are related. Thank you for coming. I will have an update this time tomorrow.” Jack Henry stepped away from the media.
Several people yelled out questions. Jack Henry ignored them and got in the cruiser. He flipped the lights on to move the crowd before he took off in the direction of the funeral home.
I jumped up, threw on a pair of jeans, and threw my hair up in a ponytail just in time for a knock at the door.
“I knew you would be over.” I opened the door to find Jack Henry leaning up against the frame.
“It’s so good to see you.” He leaned in and kissed my lips, sending the pit of my stomach into a wild swirl. I angled toward him going deeper into his kiss. “Let’s go inside before the cameras follow me here.”
“You looked great on TV.” I swooned over my celebrity boyfriend. “I’m glad you are here so we can go over some of the clues I have collected along with Chicken’s help.”
“If it has anything to do with Marla Maria, I’m going to cut you off.” Jack Henry stepped up into my efficiency. “I was there most of the night and there was no evidence that she killed Chicken.”
“Did her lover come over? Did you see Lady Cluckington? Did you know she filed for divorce a week before Chicken died? And did you know they had an agreement?” I spurted off a lot of questions. His mouth dropped. “Yeah, I’m sure she didn’t tell you anything.”
I walked past him and walked into the small kitchenette. I stuck a Dunkin’ Donuts cup in the Keurig coffeemaker and pushed down, making Jack Henry a cup and then myself one after his was done.