Sinking Suspicions (Sadie Walela Mystery)

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe

  Without a word of thanks, the nurse's aide quickly disappeared through the door.

  Sadie retracted the sandwich just as Buck reached for it. “Have you convinced her you don't understand English?”

  Buck grinned. “Works better that way,” he said.

  Sadie rolled her eyes and handed him the sandwich. “Well, eat up, my friend. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Buck ate quickly, his eyes laughing.

  Sadie left the other sandwich next to his phone and picked up the plastic urinal. “Would you please pee in this thing before you go to sleep?”

  Buck frowned.

  “I'll see you in the morning,” she said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Can you open the window?” he asked. “I might need an escape route.”

  Sadie walked to the window and slid it open about three inches. “They're probably not going to like you letting their refrigerated air out,” she said.

  Buck nodded in agreement and continued to eat. Sadie slipped out of his room, through the hospital, and into the night.

  Chapter 27

  Buck could smell alcohol before he opened his eyes. His body ached and his knee throbbed. He moved his left hand to his forehead and felt the bandage, trying to gather his thoughts. Oh, yes, he remembered, the military hospital. How long had he been here?

  Then he remembered the man yelling for help. Buck didn't know if he'd been shot or what, all he knew was someone needed help. Buck followed two men out of the foxhole, all three running toward the sound of the injured comrade. It was a trap. The bomb blast blew Buck backward. He couldn't move, couldn't see, and couldn't hear. All he could remember now was the sensation of someone picking him up and carrying him away before he passed out from the pain.

  A nurse walked into the room. “How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Skinner?” she asked.

  “What about the other men?” he said. “Did they make it?”

  The nurse straightened his bedding. “What other men are you asking about, sir? Your roommate has already checked out and gone home this morning.”

  “The men in front of me. Did they make it?”

  “I think a young woman came into the emergency room with you, Mr. Skinner. Is that who you're asking about? She was here late last night, wasn't she?”

  Buck blinked wildly and looked around at his surroundings. “Oh, that's right,” he said quietly, and closed his eyes. “That's right.”

  Sadie awoke later than she had planned. After quickly wrapping the brownies she'd baked the night before, she showered and dressed to return to the hospital.

  As she headed toward her car, Sonny jumped up from his place at the bottom of the porch steps, raised his nose, and sniffed at the plate full of brownies in Sadie's hand. She patted his head with her other hand. “I'll be back later, Sonny,” she said. “Stay here and stay out of trouble.”

  She deposited the brownies on the passenger seat, fastened her seat belt, and drove out of her driveway and onto the road to Sycamore. As she pulled onto Highway 20 and turned east, she reminded herself to stop by the phone store on the way home and pick up a replacement cell phone.

  When Sadie pulled into the hospital parking lot, she saw a police car and then recognized Charlie McCord walking toward the front door. She knew he was on his way to talk to Buck, so she quickly parked and ran to catch up with him.

  “Wait up, Charlie,” she yelled.

  The big man stopped and waited for her.

  “Are you on your way to talk to Buck?” she asked.

  “Maybe. What do you have there?” he asked, nodding at her foil-covered plate.

  “Brownies for Buck. Can I bribe you with one of them?”

  “Sure, I'm an easy buy.”

  Sadie pulled out a brownie and handed it to him. “Here, my hands are fairly clean.”

  Charlie shoved the whole thing in his mouth and began to talk. “Your friend's in more trouble.”

  Sadie frowned. “I don't know how, since you already think he murdered someone. Or have you found the real killer already?”

  Charlie ignored her question as they entered the hospital and walked right past Hazel at the information desk. Hazel winked at Sadie as they passed and continued her conversation with another visitor. By the time they made it to Buck's hospital room, Sadie was almost out of breath trying to keep up with Charlie's long strides. Charlie pushed the door open and entered without as much as a knock. Sadie followed. The bed next to Buck was empty and Sadie wondered what had happened to the man who'd been watching television the night before. Buck sat in a wheelchair, holding onto his IV tower while the same nurse's aide Sadie had seen the night before changed his bed. His right knee had been wrapped in bandages.

  “O'siyo, tohitsu?” Sadie greeted him and asked how he was doing.

  Buck smiled and waited for the aide to leave before he spoke. “I'll feel a lot better as soon as they let me loose from this contraption so I can break out of here.”

  “How's your knee?”

  “Sore” he said. “It's got a cut on it. Not sure how that happened.”

  “Well, I brought you sustenance,” Sadie said. She pulled back the foil and held the plate so Buck could take a brownie, then placed the rest on a nearby table. “These will get you back on your feet in no time.”

  Buck took a bite and looked past Sadie at Charlie. “Who's your friend?”

  Charlie stepped forward and offered his hand. “Sergeant McCord,” he said. “Sycamore Springs Police Department. Mr. Skinner, do you feel up to a few questions?”

  Buck looked blankly at Charlie. “Okay, if you'll call me Buck. I don't much go by Mr. Skinner.”

  “Okay, Buck it is. Do you mind if your neighbor, Sadie, is present while I question you?”

  “Nah, if it weren't for her I don't think I'd be here, anyway. Go ahead. Fire away.”

  Sadie smiled. Charlie retrieved two folding chairs from behind the door, and they sat facing Buck.

  Charlie leaned forward. “Okay, Buck, before I ask you any questions I need to advise you of your rights.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Sadie said, irritated.

  Charlie nodded. “Yeah, I'm afraid so.” He pulled a laminated card out of his pocket and started reading. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. It you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you. Do you understand these rights I just said? And, are you willing to talk to me?”

  Buck frowned and sat forward in his wheelchair. “I don't have much use for lawyers,” he said. “There's nothing good about them. They're trying to take what little I have, and I don't like it. I have nothing to hide. Go ahead.”

  “There've been a lot of folks out scouring the woods for you, Buck. Can you tell us where you've been?”

  “The earth just gave way,” he said. “I fell into a hole and I couldn't get out, that is until this young lady came to my rescue.” Buck smiled at Sadie.

  “How'd that happen, sir? Didn't you know the hole was there? Hadn't you seen it before?”

  “No, sir. It'd never been there before that I know of. The ground just gave way and the next thing I knew, there I was talking to a bullfrog.”

  “Where were you before you fell into the sinkhole?”

  Buck frowned and looked at the floor. “You know, it's all kind of fuzzy.” He wet his lips. “I get kind of mixed up sometimes. I remember getting a letter from the government saying I owed them money, and it made me real mad.”

  “What about Sunday morning? Where were you then?”

  “In a hole, I guess. I don't rightly know.”

  “How about a woman by the name of Cynthia Tanner? Do you know her?”

  Buck thought for a moment. “A lot of Tanners live around Old Eucha. Don't know if there's a Cynthia among them or not.”

  Sadie sat quietly, fol
lowing the flow of conversation from one man to the other.

  “Do you know anyone who works at the Sisson chicken plant here in Sycamore Springs?” Charlie asked.

  Buck looked lost. “I don't know,” he said.

  “What about a gentleman by the name of Tomas Hernandez?”

  Buck shook his head. “No.”

  “You didn't know that he was found murdered at the chicken plant? The workers say someone named Benjamin Skinner killed him.”

  Sadie sucked in a long breath.

  “Did you know there's a warrant for your arrest?” Charlie asked.

  Buck remained quiet for a moment and then said, “No, I don't guess I knew that.”

  Alarm filled Sadie. “For what?”

  “For drunk and disorderly conduct in a bar on the south side of Sycamore Springs. It's about a month old.”

  Sadie's mouth flew open. “Oh, good grief, Charlie. Is this some kind of a joke?”

  “No joke, Sadie,” Charlie said. “Do you know anything about it, Buck?”

  Buck looked past Sadie. “You know,” he said. “I seem to be getting blamed for a bunch of stuff I haven't done. And I'm beginning to get real tired of it.”

  Sadie felt a presence behind her and discovered Lance standing silently inside the door.

  “You know, Charlie,” Lance said, “it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that whoever stole Buck's identity is responsible for all these things you're accusing him of.”

  Charlie turned in his chair, acknowledged Lance, and then looked back at Buck.

  “What about the old boy who stole your identity, Buck? Did you track him down to a trailer court over on Creek Street and put an end to him? We found him with a bullet in his head.”

  Sadie gasped. “That's enough, Charlie. Buck did not kill anyone. How could he? He was trapped in a sinkhole in the middle of his property.”

  Buck began to laugh. “Did you say he was dead?”

  “Yeah, he's dead,” Charlie answered.

  Buck's laughter slowly transformed into a look of distress. “How am I ever going to straighten out this problem with the IRS if he's dead?”

  “Did you kill him, Buck?” Charlie asked.

  “Not that I remember,” he said.

  A nurse suddenly burst through the door. “Sorry to break up a party, but we need to get Mr. Skinner cleaned up so we can get him back in bed. You all can wait in the waiting room and we'll come and get you when we're finished.”

  “That's not necessary,” Lance said. “We were just getting ready to leave, anyway.”

  Charlie looked at Lance and nodded. “Sounds good. I'll catch up with you later.”

  The trio walked out into the hallway, rode the elevator down to the lobby, and filed out the front door. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. As they walked down the steps of the hospital, Sadie almost ran headlong into another one of her neighbors—Jelly Hart.

  “Oh, Jelly, I'm sorry. I guess my mind is somewhere else. How are you?”

  “Making it, I guess.” Jelly looked embarrassed. “Heard they found Buck. Is he okay?”

  Sadie laughed. “It's hard to keep a crusty old man like Buck down for very long. He'll be good as new before you know it. You ought to stop by and see him. I know he'd appreciate it.”

  Jelly nodded. “That's what I came for—to make sure he was okay.” He acknowledged Lance and Charlie and then disappeared into the hospital.

  When the three of them reached the parking lot, Sadie turned to Charlie. “I swear, Charlie, if you weren't my friend I think I'd punch you in the nose.”

  “It's just business,” Charlie said. “Don't take it personal. But you should've noticed, he never denied killing anyone.” Then he turned to Lance. “I'll call you later,” he said. With that he got in his cruiser and drove off.

  Sadie, full of sadness, looked at Lance and then leaned on his chest. “I cannot believe anyone would think that Buck Skinner could be a murderer.”

  Lance engulfed her in a bear hug. “Don't worry, Sadie. We'll figure it out. I haven't given up yet.”

  Sadie looked up at him and smiled. “That's what I like about you, Smith. You've got perseverance.”

  Together they walked to her car. “Come on,” she said. “Let's get something to eat.”

  Lance held the door open for her and waited for her to get settled in her car and lower the window. “How do you feel about a hot dog?”

  Sadie scrunched her face. “A hot dog?”

  “Yeah, a hot dog and a little ice cream? They're playing baseball over at the park and I need to do a little investigative work on a baseball glove I found. Want to go?”

  “A baseball glove?” Sadie tried to hide her amusement. “So this is a working lunch, then?”

  “Well, sort of, I guess.” His eyes sparkled. “No harm in taking your girl to work with you, right?”

  “You are so romantic,” Sadie giggled. “I haven't been to a baseball game since I can't remember when. But, I'm a working girl too. I'm supposed to be setting things up in my new office this afternoon. Remember? I have a new job as a travel agent, and I'm taking over next week.”

  “How could I forget?”

  Sadie chewed on her lip for a moment. “If you'll go with me to replace my cell phone first. Then I'll finish up at the office later this evening.”

  Lance leaned over and kissed her through the car window. “Come on,” he said. “Leave your car here and we'll pick it up later.” A few seconds later they were on their way to the phone store, followed by a trip to a hot August afternoon baseball game.

  Chapter 28

  Sadie and Lance arrived at the ballpark just in time to see the ninth inning of a coed softball game between the Sycamore Sparrow Hawks and the Jay Bulldogs. Jay was ahead by two points and the Sycamore fans were doing their best to cheer the home team to victory.

  They found good seats near first base, and Lance went to the concession stand to gather baseball food. Sadie saw several people she knew, waved to those at a distance and chatted with others nearby, talking up her new travel business at every opportunity. It felt good to be among so many friends.

  She watched Lance from a distance. She loved the way he moved fluidly through the crowd with both respect and authority, and the way people reacted to him in kind. His coal-black hair and his handsome face stirred her heart. Any woman would be honored to have him look their way. Why did she have to get so scared when he offered that coveted attention to her?

  The crack of a bat brought her thoughts back to the game. A high fly ball fell in right field near the fence, and the crowd went wild while the players scrambled on the field to tag the runner before he scored.

  Lance returned with a tray of hot dogs, nachos, two cans of soda, and a piece of fry bread. Sadie laughed with joy as they balanced the feast on their laps and tried not to spill anything when, a short time later, the home team scored the winning run.

  “What happened to the ice cream?” she asked.

  “Sorry, the young lady at the concession stand said it was too hard to keep it frozen in this heat.” Lance wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gathered the paper trash from the food. “Want to stay for the next game?” he asked. “It's a doubleheader.”

  Sadie looked at her watch. “When did you become so interested in baseball, anyway?” she asked. “I really need to get by my office before the end of the day and check my messages.”

  Lance nodded. “How about we stay until the next game gets started and then we'll go. I just had a hunch about a baseball glove we found, and I thought I might pick up on something to help me identify the owner.”

  “Oh, okay.” Sadie said, uninterested. “Next game is fine.”

  From their seats on the top row of the bleachers, they had an excellent view of the entire area. The crowd was constantly changing, people coming and going. It was almost impossible to sit still for very long in the oppressive summer heat, and a lot of folks would wander back and forth to the shad
e offered by a tent near the concession stand. Sadie couldn't help but notice Lance scrutinizing every individual who walked through the gate. It was something that came with being a police officer, she surmised. You have to know what's going on around you all the time, he'd told her before.

  As the teams warmed up on the field, Sadie noticed two women arguing near the batting cage. The younger woman wore the colors of one of the teams, and Sadie thought maybe she was the coach. The other woman had come out of the crowd and appeared to be a little drunk. It looked like the situation could turn physical at any moment. She glanced at Lance and saw that the women had already caught his attention as well.

  Lance stood. “I'll be right back,” he said, and immediately descended the steps and made his way toward the two women.

  Sadie watched as he approached in a friendly manner. The younger woman ignored Lance and yelled again at the other woman. The baseball bat hit the ground as she stomped off. Lance offered to shake hands with the other woman, but she seemed too intoxicated to respond. She waved him away and staggered to the gate. Lance turned toward the stands and then stopped, waiting while the younger woman walked over to pick up the bat she'd dropped a minute earlier. Lance approached her and seemed to be introducing himself. They spoke for a moment until the team began to filter in from the baseball field, surrounding the woman. Lance backed out of the group of young players and headed back to his seat.

  “Who was that?” Sadie asked after Lance settled in next to her.

  “Do you recognize either one of those women, by any chance?” he asked.

  Sadie studied the young coach and then scanned the area. “No, but I couldn't see their faces very well from here.”

  Lance looked around at the close proximity of the crowd around them. “Let's go,” he said.

  They left the bleachers and walked briskly to Lance's truck. Not far away, Sadie could see the intoxicated woman unsuccessfully trying to unlock a vehicle.

  “Do you think she has the wrong car?” she asked, nodding in that direction.

  “Stay here,” he said, after punching the remote to unlock his truck.