by Ann Mullen
She spoke to us as a group. “I hope you’ll excuse my earlier behavior. This is all new to me.” Her gaze fell directly on Jack. “Maybe one day you can sit down and explain the meaning of a gay relationship to me. I just don’t understand it all. In the meantime, I want you and Dennis to feel right at home.”
What a day! Perhaps some things did surprise me.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” I said. “I have to go to bed. It’s been a long day and I’m beat.”
Billy had been sitting quietly at the table. “I think it’s time for me to go home. It was nice to meet you, Dennis. It has been a pleasure to see you all,” he said as he got up from his seat. “I’ll call you in the morning, Jesse. Good-night, Minnie.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss.
I went to bed that night with a terrible headache. I tossed and turned for what seemed like forever. Dreams of my brother doing all kinds of immoral acts and my sister falling all over herself in a drunken stupor clouded my night. I knew it was only a dream. It wasn’t true. My sister wasn’t really a drunk, and who cares if Jack’s gay? That’s life.
A flash of something awoke me. I rolled over and looked at the clock beside my bed. Two in the morning! What was that? Then it came to me. I had been dreaming about the Hudgins’ place. I was standing on the front porch looking at the small green mound through the trees off in the distance. It was a cozy place that would be great for a picnic. But something else was bothering me. Now I remember! I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.
Splashing water on my face to wake myself up, I realized what it was that was so eerie about our last visit. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, considering the place was in such a mess from the antics of a crazed teenager, but something was nagging at me. Somewhere in the back of my head I kept hearing what Billy had said to me while we were at the river, “A car’s a different story. You’d have to dig a hole and bury it to keep it hidden from the police.”
That was it! I could feel it. Jay Hudgins had killed Helen Carrolton and buried her car in the woods. That’s why the car hasn’t been found, but why hasn’t the body surfaced? Did he dump her off in some remote area, hoping nobody would find the body until she had turned into nothing but bones? What about DNA? DNA tells you everything about a person, whether it comes from one single hair, or a drop of saliva. Bones are a dead giveaway. Why did he kill her? What was his motive? Was I grasping at straws?
The house was quiet, yet I was wide-awake. I didn’t want to wake up anybody, but I couldn’t go back to sleep after what was going through my head. I tiptoed downstairs and went to the kitchen. I heard a thump in Mom’s bedroom and then the click of toenails on the hardwood floor. Athena came around the corner, wagging her tail. I bent down and rubbed her coat. She responded by licking my hand.
“Did I wake you up, girl?” I whispered. I walked over to her food and water bowl. “Yep, you have plenty of food and water. Ole’ Grandma takes pretty good care of you, doesn’t she?” She looked up at me. Her legs slid out from under her as she plopped down in the middle of the floor, rolled over and threw them up in the air. “Oh, you want a belly rub, huh?” I rubbed her stomach and watched her legs twitch. Dogs—it doesn’t take much to make them happy. Too bad people aren’t that easy to please.
I searched the cabinet for the jar of instant coffee. I knew Mom kept it somewhere. I was hoping coffee would help clear my head. I got a cup down, filled it with water and put it in the microwave. The buzzer on the microwave blared through the downstairs like a sonic boom. “Darn!” I screeched as I hit the off button. Unlike me, Mom had always been a sound sleeper, but it was so quiet here, I figured it wouldn’t take much to wake her up. Or was it Dad who had been a sound sleeper? I couldn’t remember. My mind was totally off somewhere in left field, and for some reason, I just couldn’t think straight. I had to talk to Billy.
After adding milk to my cup of coffee, I picked up the cup, went over to the table and sat down. I could sure use a cigarette right about now, I thought to myself. As usual, the lamp in the living room had been left on and it cast a dim glow across the coffee table. Mom had always left a light burning at night ever since I could remember. Speak of the devil! There in plain sight was Claire’s pack of cigarettes. The only flaw my sister had was that she smoked. I ran over and picked up the pack. Should I... or shouldn’t I? I’d quit smoking a long time ago, so one wouldn’t hurt. I lit up and took a deep drag. It was so nasty, I thought I was going to puke, but I didn’t put it down. That would turn out to be a big mistake.
I sat at the table, drinking coffee and smoking cigarette after cigarette, trying to decide what to do. Should I call Billy and tell him I was having these revelations? He already thinks I’m a little bit crazy because I let my heart lead me around. What if I’m completely wrong about Jay Hudgins? What if I’m persecuting an innocent person? What am I doing in the middle of this mess, anyway? I’m not a private investigator. I couldn’t put those questions out of my head, yet at the same time, I couldn’t get over this nagging feeling that I was right. Who else could it be?
I picked up the phone and dialed Billy’s number.
“This better be good,” he ranted, coughing into my ear.
“Billy, this is Jesse. I need to talk to you. Are you awake?”
“Right,” he said. “I’m always awake at... 2:30 in the morning. What’s the matter? Is something wrong? Is everyone all right?”
“Everybody’s fine. I just need to talk to you.”
“Can’t it wait until morning?”
“No, it can’t. It’s important, and I want to talk about it now.”
He made a rumbling noise and I heard the flick of a light switch. “All right,” he said. “I’m awake now. What’s so important?”
“I think I know the location of Helen Carrolton’s car.”
“Is this another one of your gut feelings, or do you actually have proof?”
“Don’t make fun of me. Gut feelings aren’t without merit.”
“Sure.”
I lit another cigarette.
“Are you smoking?” he asked. “You are smoking! This must be good. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Remember when you told me you’d have to bury a car to get rid of it? We were over at the stream when you said it, remember?”
“What? Yeah, I remember saying something like that. So what? It didn’t mean anything. People don’t just go around digging holes in the ground and burying cars in them. What’s your point?”
“I never told you, but I saw something that was a little odd at the Hudgins’ place. It was a mound of dirt covered with what looked like brand new grass. It was off in the woods. I saw it through a tiny break in the trees. Anyway, it was just the right size.”
“The right size for what?” he asked, obviously confused.
“Allowing for the size of the car and the displacement of dirt, it would be the right size for someone to have buried a car there.”
“Where did you say you saw this?”
“At the Hudgins’ place, silly,” I replied. “Someone buried Helen’s car on the property and I’m willing to bet she’s in it. That’s why nobody’s found her or the car. They’re both buried underground.”
“You’re crazy. I’m going back to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he hissed, and then hung up the phone.
Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to call Billy. I woke him, and he wasn’t the nicest person in the middle of the night.
“Be that way,” I growled, slamming down the phone.
I crawled back into bed and tried to get over my hurt feelings. What’s the matter with him? Doesn’t he realize I’m onto something?
I slept peacefully. As daylight filtered through my open bedroom window, I rolled over and felt the tiny hands of a child stroking my head.
“Let’s play!” I heard a tiny voice say.
I opened my eyes and saw Claire walk into the room.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Benny wanted
to come see his Aunt Jesse.” She gently took hold of his hand and started to lead him out.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I replied, sitting up in bed. “Come over here, Benny. I haven’t seen you in a long time. What you been up to?”
He jumped up on the bed and yelled, “Ant Jess, I missed you so much.”
“You did?” I asked, hugging him. “You’ve gotten so big. Look at you. You’re so handsome. How old are you now? Ten?”
He giggled.
“He’ll be five in September, and Carrie will be three in August,” Claire said as Carrie squiggled in her arms. “Come on, Benny. Grandma’s cooking breakfast.” She held out her hand. “Let’s go down and get something to eat. I’m hungry, aren’t you?”
Benny smiled at me, jumped off the bed and then followed his mother. Their footsteps were quiet compared to the laughter they shared as they went down the stairs. I wanted that so badly... kids... family... and a good husband to love.
I glanced over at the clock. It was six o’clock. I didn’t have to get up for another hour. Don’t these people ever sleep late? Mom was downstairs fixing breakfast, and Claire was running around being herself. Even though I didn’t have to get up for another hour, once I thought about last night, I sprang out of bed and grabbed my robe. I had to get moving. I wanted to get to work as fast as I could, so Billy and I could talk. I had to prove to him that my theory was right. I was sure I knew where to find Helen Carrolton! If Billy thought I was nuts and didn’t want to go with me, then I’d go by myself.
I took a quick shower. My shoulder was scabbing over, so I didn’t bother to put a dressing on it. I slipped into one of the cotton skirts and a silk blouse I’d purchased when I first met Billy. Searching my closet for a pair of matching heels, I reminisced about the day I bought the new clothes. It seemed like a lifetime ago. I folded a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and stuffed them in a duffel bag, along with my tennis shoes. I wasn’t sure if we were still going to see the Carroltons, now that I was convinced of Helen’s whereabouts, but I wanted to be ready for anything. I found my handbag lying on the floor and checked to make sure my gun was still in it. Grabbing my briefcase and my cell phone from the charger, I headed downstairs, thinking that I’d have to remember to put my gun away somewhere safe while the kids were here.
“Would you like something to eat?” Mom asked.
Claire was sitting at the table drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette, while the kids were on the floor playing with Athena.
“Just some coffee, please,” I replied. “I’m in a hurry.” I walked over to Claire and asked for a cigarette.
“I thought you quit,” she smirked, reaching into the pack and pulling one out. “You know these things will kill you.”
“I did quit, and you’re a fine one to talk. Look at you.”
They both eyed me suspiciously, but didn’t make any comments about my falling off the wagon... again.
“Tell Billy if he needs me today for anything other than answering the phone to give me a call,” Mom said to me as I headed to the door.
I mumbled in agreement, but didn’t glance back. I was in a hurry and on a mission.
Chapter 25
As usual, the traffic on Rt.29 was moving at a snail’s pace. Up ahead, the police were working an accident at the Forest Lakes intersection. This reminded me of the traffic in Newport News—always congested. Perhaps I should find an alternate route to work. This was nerve racking. I stopped at a gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes, just in case my addiction had returned.
When I pulled into the parking lot at work, I noticed a white Buick laden with antennas parked beside Billy’s old Mercury. It was too early in the morning for him to be seeing clients, so I could only assume the worst. I hesitated to enter, but knew I couldn’t put off the inevitable. It was time to face the consequences of our deeds. I grabbed my handbag and briefcase, shut off my Jeep, and went inside. Billy was standing by my desk talking to two gentlemen. The familiar beep-beep of the alarm caught their attention.
“Good-morning, Jesse,” Billy said, walking over to help me with my briefcase. “This is Detective Hargrove, and his partner, Detective Willis, from the Charlottesville Police Department. They’ve been asking questions about the Helen Carrolton case.” He led me over to my desk and set my briefcase down. Looking at the two men, Billy introduced me.
I could only imagine what this was all about as I searched for the right things to say. I looked at Billy, noticing the small beads of sweat on his forehead, and prayed I was doing the right thing.
“Is this about the purse your nephew found?” I asked.
Detective Hargrove was a tall, well-built black man with a shaved head and a pencil-thin mustache.
“So you know about the purse?” he asked.
“I don’t know a whole lot,” I replied, sliding my handbag under my desk. The last thing I needed was for them to find a gun in my purse. “Billy’s brother called and said his son found a purse in the woods while he was doing his volunteer work. He asked Billy what to do with it.”
“What did Billy tell him?” the other detective asked.
Detective Willis had short, red hair and freckles on his nose and cheeks. He was a foot shorter than his partner, and was twenty pounds lighter.
“He asked him if there was any identification in it.”
“And was there?”
“Shockingly, there was,” I said. “It belonged to Helen Carrolton. The Carroltons hired Mr. Blackhawk about a month ago. It seems they were unhappy with the progress of the police.”
“That’s a little convenient, don’t you think, Miss Watson?” Detective Hargrove asked.
“Sir, I wouldn’t know,” I answered. “All I know is when Mr. Blackhawk found out who the purse belonged to, he immediately told his brother to turn it over to you guys.”
“And did he?”
“I don’t know, but I assume he did. It appears you have it. Why else would you be here?”
“Wouldn’t it hinder your case if you were to turn the purse over to the police?” he asked.
“It’s not my case. I’m sure Mr. Blackhawk would agree that the most important thing is to find Helen Carrolton. Who finds her first isn’t important.” I turned to Billy. “Isn’t that right?”
Billy nodded his head in agreement.
The red-haired detective flipped through his pocket-sized notebook.
“I see, according to my notes, Miss Watson, that you reported to Deputy James of the Greene County Sheriff’s Department that Mr. Blackhawk had possession of the purse, before it was turned over to the police. Is that correct?”
Trying to appear embarrassed by hanging my head and fiddling with the papers on my desk, I murmured, “Yes, I did.” I looked at Billy. “I’m sorry.” I turned my gaze to the two detectives. “You see, Deputy James and I are dating. We were having a conversation about the case, and when I told him about the find, I was kind of ... well, let’s just say I had too much to drink. Normally, I’m not a drinker, so it doesn’t take much to get me a little tipsy. Anyway, I guess I led him to believe I knew more about what was going on than I really did. I wanted to impress him, so I embellished.”
“So you’re saying you filed a false report with the police.”
“I didn’t file anything. All I did was talk to my boyfriend about it,” I whined, looking in Billy’s direction. “I’m sorry. I had too much to drink. I didn’t realize everybody would take this so seriously. I made a mistake by shooting off my mouth.” I turned back to the detectives. “All I know is that Mr. Blackhawk told his brother to go see you guys.” I stared at Billy again. “Am I going to lose my job over this?”
Appearing patronizing, Billy put his hand on my shoulder and said, “No, Miss Watson, you’re not going to be fired. Everybody makes mistakes. I just hope you learned something from your error.”
Apparently, Detectives Hargrove and Willis believed my story. They mumbled something about confirming what Billy had already told them and if th
ey had any more questions you could bet they’d be back. They said good-bye, turned and left.
Once they got into their car, Billy grabbed me and gave me a bear hug. “You were good! I thought for sure you’d lose it.” He stepped back. “You made me proud. Are you always this good at telling stories?”
“I was scared to death,” I answered. “All I could figure out to do was say what I thought you’d say. I got lucky. It was obvious they had something. I just had to decide what it was.”
“You did a fine job,” he said, patting me on the back. “Let’s get to work. Call your mom and tell her we’re in the office and we’ll be answering the phone until about ten o’clock. After that, I’ll have the calls forwarded to her. Mrs. Jordan’s coming in at nine. She wants to talk to me about her daughter. Someone’s stalking the girl.”
“Wait a minute.” I got in his face. “What about the case?”
“I’m getting ready to call the Carroltons right now.”
“What are you going to tell them?”
“I’m going to update them on our progress. I’ll tell them about the purse and assure them that just because her purse has been found doesn’t mean she’s dead. I see no reason to show up at their door without something concrete.”
“Like Helen’s dead body?”
“You’re too wise.” He disappeared into his office and closed the door.
False hope was two words that came to mind. That’s what Billy was giving the Carroltons.
In the meantime, I’d called Mom and told her what Billy said. I filed paperwork that had been left in my basket, and went through the motions of being a secretary. I also fixed a fresh pot of coffee and then sat at my desk drinking a cup, waiting for the outcome.