Saving Cecil

by Lee Mims

  “I think I may have a good suggestion as to where to look,” I said to Chris. “There’s an old chicken house out back of the main house. I was told it’s never used, but I’ve seen Junior and the housekeeper come out of it.”

  Chris shook his head in appreciation. “Thanks for that,” he said. “We’ll check it out too.”

  In the distance I could hear the prolonged, pulsing wail of the bomb disposal truck as it blasted down the back roads skirting Sanford. It would be here in minutes. “Good,” I said. “Because besides being the creep that put the bomb on the well cap and stabbed Luther in the back, I’d bet my life he stabbed Clinton Baker too. In fact … ” I said, giving voice to thoughts that until now I hadn’t put together. “I think I know where the murder weapon is and who helped him hide it and … ”

  I was interrupted when an enormous vehicle, which looked very much like a box on wheels, followed by another more specialized Lee County emergency vehicle, arrived on site. As we watched them go by, I deduced the first vehicle was used to detonate bombs because the words, “explosive disposal unit” were plastered across the sides, and the second, more specialized truck, was used for detecting, identifying, and disarming explosives in place. Chris turned his attention back to me.

  “What were you saying about the murder weapon?” he asked impatiently.

  “I think it was one of the knives they use around the farm to open feed bags and cut hay twine. They’ve got fixed blades, are about six inches long, and have black plastic compound handles. The blades are hooked on the end and serrated on top. Luther told me he buys quite a lot of them because the kids tote them off and forget where they put them … ”

  Chris made a rolling motion with his hand.

  “Anyway, seems logical that’s what Junior used. He probably keeps it in the canvas knapsack I saw him sling over his back when he came out of that chicken house I told you about. Or, he could have been very clever and put it back in the barn. If I were you, I’d round up all of them I could find and test them for blood.”

  “We’ll take your suggestions under advisement,” Stuckey said snidely as he turned on his heel and abruptly left our company to join a group of deputies, the fire chief, and one of the bomb disposal experts. Jackie and his men joined Chris and me. We watched the activity at the well for a time.

  “You know,” Jackie said. “I spent some time with Sara, the sister of the guy y’all think did this, and I remember her saying he was majoring in animal science and would one day run the farm. That doesn’t sound like your average run-of-the-mill bomber.”

  “That turned out not to be so,” I said, figuring all Junior’s lies and deceit were about to be made public anyway. “He was actually majoring in religious studies with a minor in business.”

  “Business was likely what he and Butcher had in common then,” Chris said.

  “Good point,” I said. “Butcher is a businessman. He had an elaborate plan for a hunting community on this property. He probably started hunting out here, became friends with Junior, showed an interest in him maybe his dad hadn’t.”

  “Right,” Chris said, following the thread. “Therefore the deep attraction for Butcher that Luther told you about. When I interviewed him, he struck me as a very slick guy. Kind of the used car salesman type. Maybe he saw a weakness in Junior … his knack for failure, addiction to drugs … whatever, and exploited it. Probably told him he’d make him a business partner if he’d help him get the land developed.”

  “I think you’re on to something with Butcher dangling a partnership in the land development business as a carrot,” I said. “Maybe Junior saw a big flashy residential community as a way to prove himself. And more importantly, Sara said Junior already had a job lined up. And, she said it was up north somewhere. Baltimore is north of here. Do you think this infatuation with becoming a big land developer could have led him to kill Baker?”

  “Maybe,” Chris said. “After all, we’re talking about a mental patient with a penchant for cocaine. Still, I caution you, we’re only speculating here.”

  “Understood,” I said. “But you’ll get to the bottom of all this. I feel confident of that.” I wasn’t sure, but it could have been that the detective blushed a little before he turned his attention from me to a sheriff’s deputy who’d jogged over to our little group and asked for the site manager. Jackie held up his hand. “Head of bomb disposal wants to go over with you what they did to the well cap,” he said, then turned and addressed the rest of us. “The area has been secured. It’s safe as far as the bomb goes and you can use your phones now, however, the sheriff wants the whole farm locked down until they catch the bomber.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Jackie said to him.

  Nonplused, the deputy answered “The sheriff won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Then take me to the sheriff,” Jackie said, but I could see that wasn’t necessary. Stuckey was headed back our way.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “There’s no problem,” Jackie said. “Just a slight conflict. I understand you have our safety in mind what with a lunatic on the loose, but I have our jobs in mind. We’re under orders to keep working 24-7 as long as the rig is on site. We were right in the middle of setting it in place when this happened. We’ve lost enough time already. Now, I’m glad to hire private security to stand guard, but I figure in the time it would take to do that, you’ll have your man. It’d be a lot simpler if you could spare someone to watch over us and it sure would be appreciated.”

  Stuckey stiffened his spine and glared at Jackie. Jackie did the same right back.

  “I reckon you already know this, Sheriff,” I said. “There’s at least three of these crewmen and maybe more that have relatives in this area and they all vote.”

  Stuckey eyed the crew. They nodded affirmatively.

  “Jasper,” Stuckey said to his deputy. “Keep a man posted with these gentlemen.”

  “Okay, fellers,” Jackie addressed the crew. “Miz Cooper and I’ll make sure everything’s squared away here and then I’ll be right along. Now get back to work.”

  Jackie and I listened as the disposal expert explained that the bomb, while deadly and packing more than enough explosive to blow the temporary cap to kingdom come and ignite the highly pressurized gas below, was amateurish and easily disarmed. He was telling us that the well cap itself had suffered no damage when suddenly there was a flurry of excitement among the sheriff and his deputies.

  Radios crackled messages unintelligible to me, orders were barked by Stuckey, and like magic, all the cars, including Chris’s Crown Vic, took off, leaving behind only a cloud of dust.

  Jackie looked at the explosives expert and me. “Reckon that means they found their man?”

  “Looks like it to me,” the expert said. Jackie and I started to leave and he added, “Before I go, I’ll make a few more photos for our records, then cordon this area off as a crime scene. The D.A.’s office will have to clear it before we take it down.”

  “Sure,” Jackie said. “Take your time.”

  In the doghouse, he and I quickly made things shipshape for the move to the new site. One of the crew would pick it up later. Knowing I wasn’t needed there and considering how little sleep I’d had in the last twenty-four hours, I had plans of my own. I was going home to see Bud, hear all about the hog hunt, and maybe grab a few hours of sleep before Chris came over to fill us in on the capture of Junior.

  As soon as we’d finished, Jackie headed back to the rig and I went to the Hummer. Tulip was napping. I let her out for a potty break. While I waited, I worried about the Lauderbachs. I had a feeling the police had caught Junior at their home. I felt instantly sad for them. On the other hand, he’d probably be locked away permanently for an offense as serious as intending to use a weapon of mass destruction. Homeland Security would have to be notified and they take of dim view
of anything involving bombs. Heartbreaking as it was, the Lauderbachs would learn to live with it and their farm was now safe … in more ways than one. Tulip finished with her business, jumped back in the Hummer, and we headed home.

  I used the main farm road and had to pass the Lauderbach home. I slowed up as I did because I was just in time to see Junior, hands cuffed behind his back, being led to a waiting deputy’s car. Ruby and Annette stood on the front porch, their hands clasped together, and watched their baby leave their lives, likely forever.

  The sight was so disturbing, I had to turn away.

  A short ways up the road, the shoulder widened and I pulled over. Seeing the two women had so distressed me that I needed a minute to calm myself. I rested my forehead in my palm. If only I could do or say something. Then I realized they’d had no report as to the well status following their son’s attempt to destroy it and that was, after all, my job.

  I waited until the caravan of deputies and the sheriff’s Interceptor went by, then executed a u-ey and went to the Lauderbach home.

  Ruby opened the door and silently took me to the sunroom. As I slipped past her to enter, she spoke. “Before I fetch Miz Lauderbach, I want to thank you for what you did for Luther last night. The emergency folks said if it weren’t for you, he’d be dead. I’m going to the hospital to be with him soon’s I get Miz Lauderbach.”

  “How is he doing?”

  “The doctors said it’ll take some time, but he’ll make a full recovery. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all you did for him and how sorry I am for … believing in Junior when I shouldn’t have.”

  “Sometimes a situation can be so difficult, it’s hard to know what to do.”

  “Still, I ought to have cottoned on to the signs that he was off his meds,” she choked back a sob before saying, “I’ll go get Miz Lauderbach for you.”

  When Annette joined me, her face was twisted with stress. Mothers the universe over share a deep connection when it comes to their offspring. Often, no words are necessary. She took one look at me and fresh tears welled in her eyes. I held out my arm. She leaned into me and I led her to the couch.

  As I lightly rubbed her boney, frail shoulders, she fought to regain her composure. Once she did, she proceeded to relay to me all that had happened. How a group of sheriff’s deputies had banged on the door and demanded to be let in. How they swarmed the house and grounds, some even going to the barns, searching for Junior. The more she talked the more upset she got. My attempts to calm her failed and she vented on.

  It was surprising to hear how long the search had taken and that Junior might have escaped entirely if Ruby—having had time to think about how sick he really was—hadn’t suggested they go back and look in the chicken house again. The detectives had given it a cursory glance on their first search, but found him the second time. He’d hidden himself behind a burlap screen in the overhead roosts.

  I asked Annette if she was aware that Junior had changed his major from animal science to business. “I am now,” she sobbed, dabbing her eyes with a worn paper towel. “He told the sheriff and his detective all about how he’d had to change majors to business because his father and I were too stupid to know what was best for us. He thought our plans for tapping into our own resources on this farm and using the money to update a business that served this family for generations was a pipe dream that would all blow up in our faces.”

  She inhaled a shuddering breath, then said bitterly, “And what did he do when it looked like our plan was going to be a success? He stacked the deck, planted a bomb, and nearly blew himself and lots of innocent people up!” Dropping her head in her hands, she cried softly.

  “Could I fix you a cup of tea,” I offered. “I know Ruby has gone to see Luther, but I’m sure I could manage for you.”

  “I’m way ahead of you,” Arthur said from his wheelchair in the doorway. “I was just coming to see if I could get anything for you, lovey. ” Annette tried yet again to pull herself together, blowing her nose and taking a deep breath. Arthur surveyed his wife sadly, then turned to me. “Cleo,” he said, “what a kind gesture you’ve made in coming to see us.”

  “I hope I haven’t made things worse,” I said. “It’s my job to see that you are kept in the loop on all affairs pertaining to the well. So, for your peace of mind, please know that neither it nor the temporary cap were damaged in any way. The gas will flow on schedule once the pipeline is connected.”

  “At least we have that,” Arthur said with a sigh. “Life sometimes deals you a hard blow. You just have to face it and move on. To tell you the truth, we’ve lived in fear for years, haven’t we, lovey?”

  “Yes, dear,” Annette said with a sniff.

  “Particularly when we’d see on the news where a mentally unstable person off their meds wreaked havoc somewhere, taking the lives of the innocent. It seems to happen more and more often these days. At least he didn’t kill Luther and I understand we have you to thank for that, Cleo.”

  When I couldn’t think of a proper reply, he continued, “And we have one other thing to be grateful for.”

  “I can’t imagine what,” Annette said sorrowfully.

  “Well, it’s a small thing really,” Arthur said. “But when a person is as sick as Junior, they need all the understanding hearts and open minds around them they can get.” Annette gave him a confused look. “The sheriff, of course,” Arthur said. “Remember, he’s been in practically the same situation.”

  Huh?

  “Oh,” Annette said and turned to me. “He is referring to the sheriff’s daughter. She’s at Mary Hill Institute, it’s a home for … well, let’s say the mentally challenged, and will be for the rest of her life. They say she is very dangerous. She attacked several people before the sheriff and his wife finally got her committed. In their defense, it is quite difficult to get someone committed, even if you are the person’s parent.”

  She got up and fussed with the throw over Arthur’s knees as I struggled to take in what she’d just said. “Anyway,” she continued, taking her seat beside me again, “recently a rumor started around that she had confessed to a murder. It was quickly quelled. The sheriff’s wife is quite influential in social circles around here. Folks just dropped it so I guess there was no truth to it, but still, with the sheriff trying to get reelected, I’m sure it was embarrassing.”

  Annette could have turned purple and levitated from the couch and I wouldn’t have been any more shocked. “I … I’ve never heard a word about the sheriff having a daughter, mentally disturbed or not. How old is she?”

  “Well, let’s see now,” Arthur said, clearly relieved to be talking about someone else’s problems. “Maybe mid-forties if the Stuckeys were in their mid-twenties when they had her and that’s just a guess based on the sheriff being close to sixty-five now. From what we heard, she’s been out there on and off since she was a teenager. They say she is completely and dangerously insane.”

  “I’m just stunned,” I said. “I’ve lived around here all my life and I never heard of her. Of course, way back then I was skipping grades in high school on the fast track to college. Naturally, I had a lot going on in my life at that time.”

  “Very few people knew, dear,” Annette said. “She was so unstable, the Stuckeys kept her hidden away. She didn’t even attend public school. Thelma Stuckey home-schooled her. We would never have known about her either if it weren’t for seeing the Stuckeys with her out at Mary Hill from time to time when we’d have to take Junior … ”

  “The point is,” Arthur continued, “he’s bound to be kinder to Junior knowing that he’s unstable and not responsible for his actions. It’s not like he’s some criminal.”

  Time for me to leave. I stood and patted Annette on the shoulder, and as I shook hands with Arthur a thought crossed my mind. It probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it needed immediate attention. “Arthur,�
�� I said. “I hate to bring this up right now when you’re dealing with such a difficult situation, but last night, before he was injured, Luther told me he’d noticed pig tracks close to the clay pit … ”

  “Oh my!” Arthur exclaimed. “Sounds like feral hogs have made it to our land. We can’t have them damaging … what was his name?”

  “Cecil,” Annette offered.

  “Thank you, my dear. Yes, we can’t have hogs damaging Cecil. What do you propose?”

  “A fence,” I said. “Actually I’m on my way home right now and I could stop by Lowes in Sanford and have enough fencing and a gate sent out here to do the job if you have the men to install it.”

  “I have the men and I will also take care of sending them to purchase the fencing. And, I’ll supervise the installation. No need for you to worry about any of this. It will be just the ticket to occupy me.”

  “Are you sure? I mean with Luther hurt … ”

  “Nonsense, I have plenty of men on the farm who can drive me where I need to go and I’m getting stronger every day,” Arthur said and reached for my hand again. He gave it a gentle pat. “You run along, now, I’ll take care of it.”

  The Hummer purred to life with a comforting rumble—a sound I was learning to enjoy—but I didn’t leave immediately. Instead, I sat, thinking, my wrist resting on the steering wheel. The sheriff had a daughter confined to a home for the criminally insane? I wanted to know more about this intriguing bit of information and I knew just who to ask.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Though my dad had never mentioned that the sheriff had a daughter, I had a feeling he’d know something about her. Another call to him was definitely in order. Besides, he still hadn’t told me whether he was coming to the wedding and now it was only weeks away. I pulled him up on my iPhone and marveled at the clarity of his ring halfway around the world off the African coast. Already anticipating being dumped into his voicemail, I was pleasantly surprised when he picked up.