A Peachy Mess

by Wendy Meadows

  “I see,” Momma Peach said.

  “So,” Sam said in a heavy voice, “Stephanie began pestering me and pestering me to take her down into the caves. I resisted at first, but after a week I guess my ears were ready to drop off my head. But still, I resisted. I had too much other work to do, and something about that cave mouth just plain scared me, besides. But that's when Stephanie gave me a choice: take her down into the caves or she was going at it alone. What choice did I have?”

  “I don't like caves. I like being above ground just fine and dandy,” Momma Peach said and then stopped talking when she saw a large, ugly tarantula spider walk out from under the couch and start moseying toward the floor television. “Oh, spider...ugly spider...kill it...kill it!” Momma Peach screamed and scrambled up onto the couch, her legs beneath her.

  Sam grinned and rolled his eyes. He stood up, walked over to the tarantula spider, bent down and picked it up. “This is Old Mac,” he told Momma Peach and laughed to himself. “Old Mac is harmless. He's my bug man.”

  “Get it away, no sir, get that ugly beast away from me before you put me six feet under the ground!” Momma Peach yelled with wide, terrified eyes.

  “I take it you don't want to hold him?” Sam asked with a half-grin on his rough face as he held Old Sam out to Momma Peach. Momma Peach cried out and in terror she flipped off the back of the couch and crashed down onto the floor. Sam stood frozen. A moment later, Momma Peach raised her head up from behind the couch, narrowed her eyes at Sam, and pointed at Old Mac. “Either he dies or you die,” she said through gritted teeth. “Baby, make your choice because high noon has arrived, oh yes sir, give me the strength!”

  Sam made an 'uh oh' face, then dashed away into the back bedroom where he returned Old Mac to his glass tank and slapped the lid securely on top, then he hurried back out to Momma Peach. “Old Mac is in his home. I'm sorry, Momma Peach. I forgot he was loose.” Sam helped Momma Peach to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  Momma Peach rubbed her right elbow. “I will live,” Momma Peach said and calmly sat back down on the couch. She glanced at the closed bedroom door. “You tell Old Mac that if he ever crosses my path again he's going to be sleeping under the wheel of a very heavy semi-truck. Oh yes.”

  “Yes, Momma Peach,” Sam said and sat back down in his recliner. “I'm sorry.”

  “That's okay. Accidents happen. Now tell me about Mrs. Sam wanting to go spelunking.” Momma Peach straightened out her dress and neatened her pink headscarf. “I’m ready to continue.”

  Sam listened to the heavy storm outside and then started to talk. “I took Stephanie down into the caves on an early Monday morning,” he told Momma Peach. “I didn't have the rope climbing gear I needed, which meant I had to make a trip to High Cliffs. Even then I wasn't trained or skilled enough to go rope rappelling into a dark cave. I forced Stephanie to take some classes with me and we learned the basics of rappelling so we could go up and down steep cliffs and in and out of caves and such. Stephanie fussed and complained at first, but after the second class, she was really into it. Anyway, the day came and Stephanie and I hooked our rope harness on, tied our rappelling line to the tree outside of the courthouse with an additional safety line, which was my idea, and prepared to rappel down into the cave. I went first, Stephanie followed.”

  “Mighty dangerous.”

  “It sure was,” Sam agreed. “The rappelling was the easy part, though. The dangerous part was exploring the tunnels. If it wasn't for the safety line I attached to the tree Stephanie and I would still be down in those caves...dead.”

  Momma Peach felt a cold chill pass over her body. Lightning blazed in the sky outside and another wave of thunder rattled the living room. She imagined Sam lying in a dark tunnel with his wife, lost and dead, surrounded by the pitch black of a cave that could have been their tomb. “Oh, give me the strength,” Momma Peach whispered. She shook her head. “I take it that you and Mrs. Sam didn't find any gold?”

  “Gold?” Sam asked in a scared voice. “Oh, we found some old gold digging tools down there, probably left behind by the Milson Gang, but we didn't find any gold. When my safety line stretched tight on my waist, I ordered Stephanie back. Then, all of a sudden, my safety line snapped free from where it was tied at my waist and the rope started being pulled back. Momma Peach, I had never been so scared in my life. Stephanie and I weren't in the main tunnel and I was sure feeling lost and disoriented. Even Stephanie became scared.” Sam shook his head. “I chased after the safety line and dived at it right at the last second before the line was snatched out of sight. To this day I know it was a miracle that allowed me to catch that safety line.”

  “God is wonderful,” Momma Peach said in an awed voice.

  “Yes, God is wonderful,” Sam agreed.

  “I think you ordered Mrs. Sam out of the caves after that horrible experience.”

  “Yes, I did. I managed to get us back into the main tunnel, walked us back into the courthouse, and got us top side. I spent the next three days covering the entrance to the cave over with cement and convincing Stephanie to never go back down. For the time being, it seemed like she listened to me.”

  “Did you ever come back to the courtroom and check to see if the cave entrance had been tampered with?” Momma Peach asked.

  “Momma Peach, after I patched the hole leading down into the cave over with cement, I never stepped foot back into the courtroom. I locked the door and marked it 'Off Limits' to the world,” Sam said in a serious voice. “Now, I know a sensible man could go down into those caves, explore the tunnels, mark each tunnel and create routes without losing his head like I nearly did...but something about those caves...those tunnels...really spooked me. I know I could have taken a can of spray paint, ropes, safety cones, bricks, boards, the works, explored each tunnel, created walking routes, and eventually learned my way around down there. After all, we aren't stupid, are we?”

  “No, we're not.”

  Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “The truth is, I was plain scared. Something down in those caves made my blood turn cold, Momma Peach. You can call me foolish, but I'm telling you the honest to goodness truth.”

  “I believe you,” Momma Peach said. “I feel the same way.”

  Sam stopped rubbing his neck. “Those caves have always been a dark spot on my town, Momma Peach. I stay away from the courthouse as much as I can.”

  “I understand,” Momma Peach told Sam. “But, I also believe Mrs. Sam knows the caves very well by now and perhaps by now she's using the caves to launder money underground. I also believe Mrs. Sam's daddy is involved and that Andy Dannity is a paid rat.”

  “Launder money...Stephanie's old man? Momma Peach, that guy is a walking applicant for the nearest nursing home by now.”

  “Mrs. Sam's daddy lost his fortune,” Momma Peach pointed out, “and when Mrs. Sam's daddy was hauled off to prison, Mrs. Sam lost her fortune. Mrs. Sam and her daddy might be trying to regain what they lost. You meet some pretty crooked rats in prison. Who’s to say Mrs. Sam's daddy didn't drop a few crumbs on the ground for some hungry rats...or the other way around?”

  Sam stared at Momma Peach. “Stephanie did begin to really change when her old man was released from prison,” he admitted, “but...laundering money through the caves? Stephanie? No way. I know Stephanie. She's not a young chicken anymore, Momma Peach. She wouldn't risk spending her remaining years behind a set of prison bars.”

  “Are you sure about your words?” Momma Peach asked Sam.

  Sam stared into Momma Peach's face. Thunder erupted again. A second later Jack rushed into the apartment. His face was worried. “Water is really starting to get high out on the street, Sam. You better come take a look.”

  “Oh, give me the strength,” Momma Peach begged, “and hope that I can float. I’m not ready to float out to the ocean. Let's hope I will just float to the nearest high rock and hang out for my life. Oh, give me the strength.”

  Sam stood up from his recliner and ran out of t
he apartment. In the back bedroom, Old Mac hunkered down and waited for the storm to pass.

  Chapter Seven

  Momma Peach stepped out onto the front porch of the hotel, threw her hand up as a shield against the screaming winds, and studied the dark street. The rainwater was now about ankle deep and the rain was still flooding down from the stormy sky in heavy, powerful torrents. “Oh, give me strength,” Momma Peach whispered in a worried voice. “Mr. Sam?”

  “Melinda, go gather our guests into the lobby. We need to talk,” Sam ordered Melinda in a firm tone. Melinda nodded her head and rushed back inside. “Jack, notice the way the currents are running?”

  Jack studied the street. “The water seems to be running east...toward the dips in the road, right Sam?”

  Sam nodded and focused on Momma Peach. “The currents are slowing up, Momma Peach,” he explained, “which means the rainwater must have filled the dips to their maximum capacity by now.” Sam moved his eyes over to Michelle. “Detective, if we're going to make a plan of attack, we better do it now because I don't give us more than a few more hours before the water reaches up to this porch.”

  “We have to go down into the caves,” Michelle told Sam in a serious voice.

  The color drained from his face and Sam shook his head no. “Those caves are a death trap,” he explained. “And you heard that voice that warned us. Spooks or no spooks, I...” Sam paused, rubbed the back of his neck, and then said “My wife might be down in those caves. I...fear she's involved.”

  “Stephanie?” Jack exclaimed.

  Sam nodded. “Yes,” he admitted in a miserable voice. “It's possible her sister might be involved, too. I don't know.”

  Momma Peach kept her eyes locked on the flooding street. Even though fear was gripping her heart, she knew that solving the case was vital. “I don't like losing,” she whispered in an angry growl. “But what can I do in this storm? I am still setting the facts straight in my mind.”

  Before anyone could speak or react, a dark figure dashed out behind the minivan parked in front of the hotel and ran up to the front porch through the pouring rain. “Don't move!” Andy yelled and aimed a gun straight at Michelle. “Drop your gun!” he hollered over the howling winds.

  Michelle narrowed her eyes and searched Andy's face through the dark gloom standing before her. His face was hideously twisted with emotion, but she could plainly see that Andy wasn't a killer. A crook, a coward, and a rat, yes, but not a killer. “You're going back to prison,” she promised Andy in a tone that caused Sam and Jack to stand back.

  Momma Peach lifted her head. “Oh, you're in for it now, boy,” she warned Andy and stepped back to Sam. “Get that rat, baby.”

  “I said to drop your gun!” Andy yelled. But his voice was scared and nervous instead of deadly.

  “Where is Mrs. Sam?” Momma Peach asked Andy in a loud voice. “If you talk to us, boy, my baby might take it easy on you.”

  “Where's my wife, Andy?” Sam demanded. “I know she’s involved. You can't kill all of us. We have guests inside. One of us will escape and bring back the authorities.” Sam raised his voice, “One woman is already dead, too. Do you want her death pinned on you when the authorities arrive?”

  “I didn't kill that woman,” Andy yelled at Sam. His hands began to shake. “Drop your gun, detective, or I'll shoot you dead!”

  “What are you doing?” Andy cried out in a shocked voice and quickly retreated toward the street. “Stay back or I'll shoot you!”

  Michelle shook her head in disgust. “You're pathetic,” she yelled at Andy.

  “Stay back—” Before Andy could finish his sentence, Michelle yanked out her gun with lightning-fast hands that appeared as a mere blur in Andy's vision.

  Michelle aimed her gun at Andy and fired off a single shot. The bullet tore through the gun Andy was holding. Andy cried out in pain and threw the mangled gun down into the flooded street. He cradled his right hand, aimed his body at the courthouse, and took off running. Michelle launched herself into the wet air from the hotel’s high porch and executed a flying kick that caught Andy between his shoulder blades before he could get far. Andy went sprawling down into the chill of the flooded street, which was almost knee-deep where he landed with a splash. “No!” he cried out in fear as he scrambled to his feet and spat the rainwater out of his mouth, “I can't even swim...please...no!” he begged and tried to gain his footing in the wind and rain.

  Michelle walked over to Andy, grabbed the back of his shirt with her left hand, and yanked him up to his feet. “Talk to me!” she yelled.

  Desperate to escape, Andy tried to throw a right punch at Michelle. Michelle ducked the punch, brought her right knee up into Andy's stomach and pushed him backward. Andy crashed back down into the rainwater. He struggled once more to crawl away, and the last thing he felt before blackness overtook him was Michelle's foot striking the side of his head, and then it was lights out. “Sam, Jack, get him inside,” Michelle yelled over her shoulder.

  The two men waded out into the flooded street, retrieved Andy's unconscious body, and dragged him inside the hotel.

  As they did so, a dark figure appeared in the doorway of the courthouse, stood stock-still as if staring at Michelle, and then vanished back into the building again.

  Michelle caught a glimpse of this. She narrowed her eyes and attempted to run to the courthouse, but Momma Peach caught her left shoulder and stopped her. “No Michelle,” Momma Peach warned in a careful voice, “that person wants you to run into his trap. Let's get back inside the hotel.”

  Michelle looked over her shoulder into Momma Peach's wet face and then down at the street. The rainwater was covering Momma Peach's ankles. “We don't have much time left,” she begged.

  “I know that,” Momma Peach said and began easing Michelle back toward the front porch of the hotel, “this storm isn't good for us or our enemies,” she explained. “Our enemies are getting desperate, too. They are also cowards. Let's get inside.”

  Michelle cast her eyes out at the dark town. The town no longer seemed sane or normal – instead, the town somehow seemed to be veiled with an untamed, hideous lunacy worn as a mask by someone who was determined to remain in the darkness. “Ben was killed here,” Michelle told Momma Peach in a hurt voice, “he was killed because he discovered the truth. I don't know how Mrs. Milkson plays into this case, but I'm sure she was killed for the same reason Sam was. I can’t stand it. We’re so close to the truth I can almost taste it.”

  Momma Peach walked Michelle up onto the front porch, wiped the rainwater off her face, and then began shaking water off her soaked body. “I feel like a waterlogged prune in all this rain, baby. But sometimes,” she added, “a little rain is good for the mind, helps wash out the nonsense that clutters up our thoughts.”

  “Momma Peach?” Michelle asked.

  “Michelle,” Momma Peach said, “my mind is gathering all the ingredients she can right now. I ain't stupid and know what temperature to set my oven on.” Momma Peach cast her eyes up the street at the dark courthouse. “Sam's wife is our enemy. I don't know Mr. Sam's wife, but I can sure read his eyes. That poor man knows that his wife never loved him and never will. Mrs. Sam was involved in criminal activity with her daddy, that's a fact. I think Mrs. Sam married Sam because she started getting mighty scared and needed a fallback plan, someone to blackmail, and Sam was the man.” Momma Peach drew in a deep breath. “Sam didn't tell me this, but I believe Mrs. Sam's daddy ordered her to marry him.”

  “In order to begin framing him?”

  “Yes,” Momma Peach said. “Sam sees the truth, Michelle, but his heart is so hurt that he won't let his words come right out and say it.” Momma Peach shook her head. “He moved way out here because he knew Mrs. Sam and her daddy was up to no good. But love, baby, makes a man mighty blind.”

  “Love?” Michelle asked and nearly laughed to herself, “what is love between a man and woman these days, Momma Peach?”

  Momma Peach tossed a thu
mb at the front door of the hotel. “Mr. Sam loved...still loves, baby...Mrs. Sam. I see into his heart. Sam moved her out here hoping to change her heart.” Momma Peach stared at the front door. “Sam, I believe, helped the FBI lock away her daddy and Mrs. Sam somehow found out the truth...maybe through the grapevine, who knows? I believe Mr. Sam went to war with Mrs. Sam's daddy in order to save the woman he loved and their marriage. Now Sam isn't a liar, but his heart isn't going to let his mouth come right out and speak the absolute truth, either. Does that make him a bad man? No. Sam is one of the finest men I’ve seen in a very long time.”

  “Sam is a good man,” Michelle agreed.

  Momma Peach nodded. “Sam knows that Mrs. Sam's daddy has been set free from his prison bars, too.” Momma Peach shifted her eyes back to the courthouse. “Mrs. Sam lost all of her money when her daddy was shipped off to prison. Now she's trying to reclaim her fortune along with her daddy while punishing Mr. Sam at the same time. And I sure ain’t going to let him get hurt. There's dark deeds being performed down in those deep caves running under this town, Michelle, and we're going to shed light on them.”

  “How?” Michelle asked and pointed at the storm. “Momma Peach, we'll be lucky to live through this storm.”

  “Let's go talk to our wet rat,” Momma Peach replied as she pulled Michelle into the hotel and closed the front door.

  “What's going on?” Charlie Neilson asked in a panicked voice.

  Momma Peach spotted Charlie standing in the lobby wearing his white robe. Henry was standing next to him dressed in a wrinkled red shirt and blue jeans. “You okay?” he asked Michelle tenderly, as if Michelle was his girlfriend.

  “I'm fine,” Michelle told Henry coolly as she tucked her gun away.

  “Mr. Neilson,” Sam said in a calm but serious voice, “we're experiencing some flooding—”