Two hours later Dr. J.W. Short climbed out of the green SUV ambulance. With him was Tobias “Toby” Whitlow, the district attorney general.
They were an odd couple.
Short was actually quite tall. At 6'3, his shoulders were stooped with age. He was thin and his permed hair was full and white. Short's face was clean shaven but he wore thick eyeglasses.
Whitlow, on the other hand, stood 5'7 and tipped the scales at a portly 275 pounds. His pate was bald, rimmed by silver hair. He sported a thick silver mustache and he his hazel eyes had the look of a predator. A native of Leeds, Alabama, he spoke with a pronounced Southern accent.
Chet stood over the body. The temperature had dipped. He could see his own breath.
“Sorry to get you out again Doc,” he said.
Short waved him off.
“I'm just glad most of these things happen in town. That damn Rescue Squad ambulance almost busted my kidneys,” he said as he knelt over the body.
Chet looked at Toby, who was carrying a large thermos and a sleeve of Styrofoam cups.
“Thought you might need this,” Toby said as he held up the thermos.
“God bless you Toby,” Chet said as The D.A. took his treasure inside the cabin.
“It won't be official until the autopsy, but this man died from natural causes - a massive coronary is my guess,” Short said.
“That's what I figured too,” Chet said.
“Look at the bright side Chet: He just saved the taxpayers of Butcher County a lot of money in incarceration and court costs,” Short said.
“Yeah. Thought about that too. Wraps everything up real tidy,” Chet said.
“But you're not sold,” Short said.
“Not in the least,” the sheriff answered.
“Better be careful Chet. You'll wind up wearing a tinfoil hat and calling talk radio at three in morning about the Chinese-Cuban connection,” Short said as he looked up.
“You might be right Doc. Excuse me,” Chet said as he stepped inside.
Toby handed him a Styrofoam cup filled with black liquid.
“Smells good,” Chet said.
“It's probably not as strong as you like but it's hot and it's coffee,” Toby said.
“It's fine, just fine,” Chet added with a louder voice, “Hey Marcus! Come get some coffee and warm up.”
“Mm. Sounds good,” he said as he poured a cup.
“Where's Haley and Beau?” Chet asked.
“Last time I saw them they were processing the vehicle in the garage,” Marcus said.
“Would you mind letting them know we have hot coffee thanks to my friend the D.A.?” Chet asked.
“Not at all. And Toby I'm not complaining, but it wouldn't have hurt my feelings a bit to have a little brandy after this day,” Marcus said as he walked out.
“Sorry Marcus. I left my St. Barnard at home,” Toby said.
When Marcus stepped outside he saw the lights off in the garage. He looked to Beau's SUV and saw him getting a dark green quilted deputy's jacket from the back seat.
Haley stood talking to Dr. Short as EMTs loaded the corpse on a stretcher. Beau walked over to Haley and offered her the jacket.
She hesitated until Short spoke up.
“Young lady, if you don't take it, I might. I'm getting too old to be noble,” he said.
“There's no sense in freezing,” Beau said.
“Very wise. Have you ever considered going into medicine?” Short asked.
Beau just shook his head and laughed.
“Can't stand the sight of blood,” he said.
Haley wrapped the jacket around her shoulders. It engulfed her body.
Short clicked his teeth.
“Very becoming,” he said.
“We got hot coffee in the cabin. Doc? You need a cup?” Marcus asked as Haley and Beau headed inside.
“I'm right behind you. Boys, get some coffee while it lasts,” Short said to the EMTs.
They walked inside and Toby took a look at Haley.
“That is a most fetching garment. House of Fullbright?” He asked.
“Vehicle of Fullbright,” she said.
“You make it work my dear - far more than our friend Beau ever did,” Toby said.
Beau poured a cup and handed it to Haley and then poured himself one.
“I ain't arguing,” he said.
“You know what I like about you Beau? Around you I sound positively urbane,” Toby said with a smile.
Short and the EMTS came in and got their coffee. The doctor stuck around when the EMTs walked out.
“We'll take him to Goode's for the family to identify before we do the autopsy. I anticipate taking care of that chore sometime tomorrow afternoon,” Short said.
“Any word on Smitty?” Beau asked.
“Well, he's still dead,” Short said with a straight face.
“Day-um Doc! That's awful,” Toby said trying not laugh at the dark humor.
Haley looked at the floor while Marcus looked away trying to hide his smile.
Beau and Chet just looked at the doctor with resignation.
“Sorry. Just trying to inject some levity into a difficult day. I completed the autopsy earlier this evening. I'll have the official results to you tomorrow but the cause of death was gunshot wound to the head. The second shot to the head and the one to the chest were superfluous. Slugs were 9mm - the same as we recovered from Tackett's belt,” Short said.
“Any other wounds, tissue, anything?” Beau asked.
“Nothing. Someone just walked up and shot him at point blank range. No struggle at all,” Short said.
“Are you doing the Brooke autopsy in the morning?” Chet asked.
“That's the plan, unless you people find another dead body tonight,” Short said.
“Three's enough,” Toby said.
“One's enough,” Beau said and the D.A. nodded in agreement.
“What comes next? It looks this one might have resolved itself,” Toby said.
“I want a court order to get access to Tackett's bank records and warrants to search all of his properties. And I want the same for Smutty,” Beau said.
Chet and Short looked at each other.
“You're not satisfied? I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts evidence will show Tackett was the perp in both murders,” Toby said.
“You might be right but I want to be sure no one else stood to benefit from either Smutty or the Brooke woman's deaths,” Beau said.
“If it makes you feel any better, I agree. Something doesn't feel right,” Chet said.
“Ballistics aside, why would Tackett want to kill his own nephew? What motive could there have been?” Haley asked.
“I've been wondering the same thing,” Beau said.
“I'll get the court orders and warrants you need but I hope you're wrong,” Toby said.
“So do I Toby,” Beau said.
“Well, let's wrap this up and go home. We could all stand a few hours of sleep,” Chet said.
As if on cue, Marcus yawned.
“I'm with you Chet,” he said.
A few minutes later, they all left the scene. Marcus left alone, heading home. Chet rode with Beau and Haley back to the courthouse, where their vehicles were located. Chet insisted on riding in the backseat.
“I can stretch out back here,” he reasoned.
They rode back to the courthouse with minimal conversation. Beau parked next to Chet's vehicle.
“I'm going to go over to Goode's. I want to be there when a family member shows up. Maybe one of them will feel like talking,” Chet said.
“I'm going to log in our evidence and make another run to the lab,” Beau said.
“I'll help. The quicker we get finished the better,” Haley said.
“I'm too tired to argue,” Beau said.
“Both of you be careful and try to get some sleep,” Chet said.
“You too,” Beau said.
Haley hugged him.
“Goodnight Uncle Chet,” she said.
“Remember what I said about sleep,” he said to her.
It took about forty-five tedious minutes to get everything logged in. Both were all business and worked efficiently.
“Listen, I know you're tired. Why don't you go home and get some sleep? I can make it to Knoxville and back pretty quick,” Beau said.
“No, you don't need to go alone - not this late. You might fall asleep,” Haley said.
“I appreciate the thought but I can manage, really,” he said.
“I thought you were too tired to argue,” Haley said.
“I am,” Beau answered.
“Then I'm going,” she said.
He sighed.
“Will you at least try to sleep on the way down?” Beau asked.
“How can I keep you awake if I sleep?” she asked with a bright smile.
He gave up.
“Okay, let's go,” he said.
As they traveled, Haley wanted to talk about the three deaths.
“You and Uncle Chet aren't convinced everything is as it seems with Tackett. Why?” She asked.
“Are you?” He asked.
Haley shook her head.
“No, I'm not.”
“Give me your thoughts,” Beau said.
“I think he killed Savanna Brooke - I have no doubt there. Why? That's hard to say, given his history of domestic assault, it could have been any reason or none at all. Maybe he didn't mean to kill her, but he did it,” Haley said.
“But you don't think he killed Smitty?” Beau asked.
“No. It doesn't make sense,” she said.
“Maybe Smitty found out about the Brooke murder and recently being out of a job, tried to blackmail his uncle,” he said.
“He obstructed an investigation involving his uncle in the beating of Sara Devlin and who knows how many others. Tackett was the link to the Ravens. Nobody in that family would endanger that link - especially Smitty,” Haley said.
“He did like to flaunt his connections,” Beau said.
“And more than once he said he would run against Uncle Chet in the next election. He wouldn't risk that, especially considering how upset he was when he got when he got fired,” she said.
“Okay, maybe Tackett - in a drunken stupor - got tired of his nephew asking for favors. Keep in mind, this was a nephew no longer in position to help him,” Beau said.
“Tackett had a history of violence but only against women and blacks - never against blood relatives. From everything I've heard and learned about the man, he always took care of them without complaint,” Haley said.
“Okay, if not Tackett, who killed Smitty?” He asked.
“I don't have the most remote idea and that's what bothers me - just like you and Uncle Chet,” she said.
“Well, you're right about that. Hopefully the evidence will tell us what we need to know,” Beau said.
“Maybe we need to look at this from another angle,” Haley said.
Beau glanced her way.
“I'm listening,” he said.
“How about if someone was trying to target Tackett and Smitty was a target of opportunity?” Haley asked.
“And Tackett just keels over from a heart attack by coincidence?” Beau asked.
“I know. It's thin,” she said.
“That doesn't mean I'm dismissing it,” he said.
“And it could be that Smutty was the target. He had enemies of his own as you well know,” she said.
“And what? Tackett stumbles onto the body after he murdered Savanna Brooke, panics, empties his safe, and goes on the run?” Beau asked.
“You don't have to say it - I'm grabbing at straws,” she said.
“Again, let's not rule anything out yet. But you are right about one thing - Smitty had enemies,” he said.
“And a big mouth,” Haley added.
“I take it you heard about his little tantrum when he got fired,” Beau said.
“It seems he didn't hold me in high regard - or you for that matter,” she said.
“Jealousy is all that was. Please don't let it get to you,” he said.
“Trust me, I've been called worse by better people,” she said.
“Yeah, it does kind of go with the job,” Beau said with a chuckle.
“We deal with some of the nicest people,” she said.
“And some of the smartest,” he added.
“And Aunt Carly wonders why I'm still single,” Haley said with a laugh.
Beau shifted in the seat.
“You know...I, uh, kind of wondered the same thing,” he said.
“Why I've never married?” She asked in half-surprise.
“Yeah,” he said as his mind went blank of anything to add.
“Never found the right one I guess. I mean I've dated a few guys but nothing really serious,” Haley said.
“Hum,” he mumbled.
She looked over with a half-smile.
“And what does that mean? Something you'd care to share?” She asked.
“Just surprised, that's all,” Beau said.
“Well, now I'm curious. Care to elaborate?” Haley asked.
“It's, well, your looks alone...and your personality...I don't know. I'm just surprised,” he said.
Beau was squirming and she was enjoying it.
“My looks? My personality? Are you blushing...again?” Haley asked. “It's hard to tell in the dark.”
“Oh, you're funny,” he said.
“So I'm funny too?” She asked.
Beau couldn't help but smile.
“Very funny,” he said.
“So I make you laugh?” She asked, still teasing.
“No. You make me smile and uh, that's something totally different,” Beau said.
Haley feigned a pout.
“So I'm not even a good clown?” She asked.
He shook his head.
“You're not a clown at all,” he said.
“You don't like my sense of humor?” Haley asked.
“You have a great sense of humor. What's not to like?” He asked.
“But you just said I'm not a clown,” Haley said.
“You're not,” Beau answered tersely.
“Then what about me makes you smile?” She asked, not letting him off of the hook.
“Everything,” he said.
“Gee Beau that narrows it down” Haley said.
“You really want to know?” He asked.
“I do now. Tell me, c'mon, tell me,” she said as she playfully poked him in the ribs with her left index finger.
“Your smile, okay? That's what makes me smile,” Beau said.
Haley stopped playing and looked at him blankly.
“My smile?” She asked.
“You're beautiful. When you smile, you're even more radiant, almost hypnotic. I'm so drawn to it I can't look away,” he blurted and half-regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. His expression reflected it.
“Seriously?” Haley asked.
“Seriously,” Beau said, a great deal slower than his previous words and with a degree of relief.
“Wow... I mean...thank you...no one's ever told me that,” she said.
“I'm sure guys compliment you all the time,” he said.
“Only when they're hitting on me,” Haley said.
“And how do you know I wasn't hitting on you?” He asked.
“I can tell when someone is just feeding me a line to get into my pants. That wasn't a line. That came from the heart. Tell me I'm wrong,” she said.
Beau struggled with how to respond.
“Your silence speaks volumes Mr. Fullbright and I'm flattered. I know how awful I look tonight. My hair's a mess, I've got dark circles under my eyes, and I need a shower,” she said.
He smiled softly.
“Awful? If that's awful, then every woman ought to look awful. Your hair and eyes look great. As for the shower, well, you smell good to me. I really like you perfume,” Beau said.
“Perfume?” Hal
ey asked.
“Yeah, what's it called?” He asked.
“I'm not wearing any perfume,” she said.
“Oh c'mon. Stop playing — it's the same perfume you wore Tuesday,” Beau said.
She laughed.
“I didn't wear perfume Tuesday and I'm not wearing any now. Honest,” Haley said.
“Seriously?” He asked.
“Seriously,” she answered.
“Wow, uh, regardless, you smell nice,” Beau said hoping he didn't sound as stupid as he felt.
He expected her to laugh but she didn't. Haley only smiled.
“You make me smile too,” she said.
“Don't smile too much. I need to watch the road. We're not far from the lab,” Beau said.
“I'll try to control myself,” she said with a giggle.
“I'd appreciate it,” he said.
Chapter Six
At about the time the call went out for the M.E. to come via rescue squad ambulance to Shiloh Mountain, Gene met with some of the most powerful members of the Tennessee GOP.
Among them were J. Evan Marshall, a former two-term governor, former U.S. Senator Heath Hamill, and former U.S. Attorney General Adam “Jeff” Jefferson. For the better part of the past thirty years the triumvirate controlled the state party.
Marshall had even served as chairman of the national party for two years during the Reagan Administration.
Like Gene - and every credible pollster and pundit in the state - they anticipated a double digit win for Jack in November. Even though Jack really didn't need them or any of the other party leaders, Gene wanted them on board. If his plan was to succeed he needed them on the side of the Ravens.
He invited the trio to accompany him to the library where they could enjoy fine cigars and liquor, away from party leadership of counties from around the state.
“I'll say this for you Gene: You Ravens know quality,” Hamill said as exhaled a cloud of smoke from the Havana cheroot.
“Indeed they do,” Jefferson echoed as he lifted his bourbon-filled glass.
“I think we all appreciate you having us here and we're grateful for your hospitality,” Marshall said. “But we're wondering why it is exactly we're here. It's not exactly like you need us.”
“And where in the hell is Jack? No offense Gene, but you're not the candidate,” Hamill said.
Gene grinned.
“Gentlemen, please. You underestimate your considerable influence and as for my brother, he is the face of the campaign. As such, he is downstairs giving several interviews for the eleven o'clock newscasts of network affiliates around the state,” he explained.
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