by Tonya Kappes
“You’re right,” I told myself in my bathroom mirror after I had gotten dressed in my sheriff’s uniform. “I am a Sims and I’m going to prove them wrong.”
“Damn right you are.” The voice came from behind me. The same voice I’d heard whisper in my ear all day long yesterday.
I jumped, looking around. No one was there.
“Hello?” I cautiously walked into the kitchen, slowly grabbing for my holster. I unsnapped my gun and held it down to my side with my finger on the trigger. Slowly, I walked down the hall, swinging my gun in front of me and sticking my head in each of the bedrooms, finding them empty. I continued on my search. “Come on out. I know you’re here.”
Maybe I should rethink the whole not-locking-my-doors concept.
The entire house was empty but I swore I’d heard someone.
“I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy,” I repeated, bringing my gun down to my side. I sucked in a few deep breaths to help calm the anxiety bubbling up inside of me.
I stood there for a few minutes and when I didn’t hear anything else, I knew my subconscious had to be letting my parents and these crimes get to me. Mama and Daddy were begging for this day to come so I would quit the job and prove them right. Finn Vincent might have been called in a few days from now, but I was sure my father had used his pull with my Poppa’s contacts to bring him in right from the beginning.
“I’m going to prove you wrong.” I pointed to the framed picture of my parents my mother had given me as a Christmas present. “So I wouldn’t forget where I had come from” were her exact words.
“Yes, you are,” the voice confirmed. Only this time I saw a man, standing with his back to me.
“Hold it right there!” I screamed and pulled my arms straight up, pointing my gun directly at him. “I’ve got a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!”
My eyes darted around the room, making sure he didn’t have a partner.
“Are you the killer?” I asked, lowering my voice so it wouldn’t shake like my hands. “No, Duke.” I called for Duke when he started to saunter over to the man.
Duke looked at me with his droopy eyes before he picked up his bone and kept walking.
Duke nudged the man’s leg like he always did with my Poppa when he was a puppy. I had gotten Duke eight years ago from my Poppa as a high school graduation gift. It was six years later when Duke and I were home for a visit when I found Poppa dead.
“Not now, Duke,” the man called out to my dog.
“How do you know my dog?” I asked through gritted teeth. The voice was becoming clearer to my ear. It sounded a lot like my Poppa’s. “Do you live around here?”
Something slid across the floor and stopped at my toe. I bent down and picked up my Poppa’s pin that I was sure I’d left in the bathroom before my shower.
I rolled it between my finger and thumb, confirming it was real. My mouth went dry. My pulse throbbed in my fingers and my breath quickened. The air in the room was thick and stale. I gasped for breath.
“I’ve lost my mind.” I shuddered inwardly at the thought of going to the psych ward in Lexington. I brought my arms back down to my side.
“Don’t be alarmed, Kenni-bug.” The man who sounded exactly like my dead Poppa referred to me by the nickname he’d affectionately given to me. “I’m only here to help.”
“Don’t you call me that!” I eased myself around to the right of the room.
He was standing there as sure as I was. I wasn’t going nuts. I had an intruder. Someone playing a sick joke.
The man turned around.
“Poppa?”
My entire world went black.
Chapter Eleven
When I came to, I had a throbbing headache. If Doc Walton were alive, I would have immediately gone to him and had him check me for some sort of brain tumor.
“What was that?” I took a deep breath and patted my trusty sidekick, Duke. “Obviously the stress is getting to me.”
Duke nudged me with his head. I sat there with my hand on his head, making sure I felt steady enough to get up. I didn’t feel dizzy, just the same sick feeling of having to solve two crimes that were somehow linked. The stick symbol found on Doc’s body and the jeweler’s floor were all the proof I needed. My Poppa’s pin was on the floor next to me. Without giving too much thought to how it got there, I grabbed it and my gun before I got up.
Duke licked my face. The kitchen phone rang. I tried to get my wits about me before I stood up.
“That was one crazy dream.” I shrugged off what had just happened and glanced up at the clock.
It had to be stress, because the Dick and Bob clock reported a time lapse of thirty minutes. Plus, I had heard about these power naps and how you can have strange dreams.
“Hello?” I picked up the phone, leaning my shaking body up against the counter.
“Sheriff.” It was Wyatt. “I wanted to update you on the statements I took from Sterling and Polly.”
“How did it go?” I asked, rubbing my head. I stuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder and grabbed the ibuprofen off the kitchen windowsill. I dumped the coffee from my coffee cup into the sink and filled it up with tap water.
“Both of their stories panned out. Sterling had gone to get his hair cut and by the time he walked to Doc’s, Doc had been dead a while.” I listened and popped the two pills in my mouth and took a drink. “Viola White did have Polly work for her and according to Polly’s mother—”
“Her mother?” I interrupted him.
“Her mama brought her down to the station,” he said.
“But it was her dad that picked her up from White’s.” I didn’t recall seeing her mother in his car, but I clearly wasn’t thinking straight and could’ve been wrong.
“It was her mother, and according to her, Polly was at home and getting ready right up until it was time to drive into Cottonwood and open the shop.” He wasn’t telling me anything that I needed for the meeting.
“Well, the council meeting has been scheduled for tonight. You’re going to be able to come, right?” I waited for a second and when he didn’t answer I reminded him, “Remember I’m going to suggest they appoint you deputy until we can have a proper election.”
“Can I do that and be jailer?” A good question, since we were both elected positions.
“I guess Doolittle will let us know tonight.” That was the least of my worries. If Wyatt couldn’t legally be sworn in as deputy, he’d still help out. Plus I had Finn, hopefully for as long as needed.
“If you get a minute, why don’t you run on down to White’s and see if you can find anything out of place?” Not that I didn’t trust Finn, but Wyatt was part of the community and he’d know if something was out of place more than Finn. “Finn did a good sweep of the place, but I’d like it if you could too.”
“I’m a step ahead of you.”
It was great that Wyatt was being so helpful. It took a lot off my mind. My possibly crazy mind. “Finn was down there and I told him he could go since I had swept the scene and there wasn’t much more to see. I kept the tape up so you could go and clear the scene.”
“Sounds good.” I really was appreciative of how Wyatt had stepped up to help out.
After we said our goodbyes, I walked into the kitchen, adjusting my holster around my waist, snug the way I liked it. I put the power nap, which sounded better than “blacking out,” out of my mind. If it happened again, I would definitely make an appointment with Camille Shively. After all, she was the only doctor in Cottonwood now.
“You stay here,” I ordered my sad-sack dog. It was clear that it wasn’t going to be fair to Duke for him to sit in a car all day. His long droopy ears cocked back, flipping them inside out, and his already sagging eyes looked even slouchier.
“You are good at the pouty
face, Duke. I’ll have Jolee stop by. You love her.” I patted his head, slid my hand over the counter, and grabbed my keys.
I forced myself not to look back because one too many times I had done the double take and given in to him. Today couldn’t be one of those days. I had official business and didn’t need a slobbery sidekick. Duke the hound dog had to stay home like every other dog in town.
An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach when I stepped out of the house and looked down the sidewalk on Free Row. The strange dream I’d had felt so real and as much as I tried to shake it off, I couldn’t. It was like I could hear Poppa and almost touch him. Duke even played the part as he had done years ago. The dropping of the bone and nudging Poppa’s leg was just as real in my dream state as it had been in real life. And I couldn’t explain how the pin made it from the bathroom to the family room.
I took my phone out of my pocket and quickly dialed Jolee, leaving a message for her to let Duke out a couple of times on her travels for Meals on Wheels. Another thing On The Run food truck was good for. I’m sure she was slammed with between breakfast and lunch clients. I had no idea where she’d park the truck or I would’ve stopped by on my way to Kim’s.
Within minutes I was in the old Wagoneer and turning left on Main Street to head down to Kim’s Buffet. I wanted to show Mrs. Kim the picture of the symbol without giving too much away. I put the strange dream about Poppa in the back of my head.
I pulled the old Wagoneer into the empty parking spot right in front of White’s, which was across the street from Kim’s. The police tape Wyatt had strung up in front of the jewelry store had a big knot tied in the middle where Viola had snapped it. Sterling Stinnett stood in front of it wearing one of the five-point plastic sheriff pins I gave out to children.
He stood with his arms across his chest and legs apart, staring straight ahead.
I got out of the Jeep, grabbing my bag, and stood in front of him.
“Sterling?” I waved my hand in front of his stern face. “What are you doing?”
“Permission to move, Sheriff Lowry?” Sterling asked in a drill-sergeant voice. His hand rose to his brow as if he was saluting me.
“Um.” I glanced to see if anyone was around. This town had gone nuts. Not that Sterling Stinnett wasn’t a few fries short of a Happy Meal already, but this was even stranger than usual. “Yes.”
“Shoo-wee.” Sterling let out a long satisfied sigh. He tapped his finger on the plastic badge attached to his overalls. “I’ve been doing a good job as deputy in training.”
“Deputy in training?” I asked.
Yes, this town had definitely gone crazy, me included.
“Wyatt gave me the temporary badge and said if I was able to stand here and not let anyone in, that I might be up for the sheriff’s deputy job.” Sterling’s eyes sparkled and he couldn’t stop grinning even when he tried to press his lips together. They quivered and reopened in a wide grin.
“He did, did he?” I asked. Wyatt didn’t mention Sterling on the phone when I asked him about the jewelry store. “Did he say when he’d be back?” I wondered when Wyatt was going to release Sterling since I was really going to clear the place.
“Nope.” He cleared his throat. “I mean,” his head dipped, “no, ma’am…er…Sheriff.” He stomped his foot on the ground. Like the wave you see at ballgames, the ripple started at his feet and stopped at his head when he straightened his body, like he was taking his post like a good soldier.
I guess he wasn’t hurting anyone being there.
“Was there a guy about this tall, brown eyes, in a suit with him?” I asked. Wyatt said he’d told Finn he could leave, but I wondered if Sterling heard Finn mention where he was going. Finn was definitely the type of guy that would call me with any new developments.
“He left with Wyatt.” Sterling didn’t look at me; he kept his eyes straight ahead.
“No one’s inside?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.
“Just Viola,” he said. “Cleaning things up.”
I pushed in the walkie-talkie button and turned my head toward my shoulder so Betty could hear me loud and clear. Wyatt had told me to go and clear the scene, but maybe Finn had done it.
“Betty?” I called for her, but didn’t wait for her to answer. “Did anything come through about the theft at White’s?”
“You mean did that hunk call in?” She let out a long sigh.
“Betty, this is official Cottonwood business over the dispatch.” I reminded her to stay professional, even though she was right. “And yes. I’m referring to Finn Vincent.”
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Finn Vincent was a hunk.
“Yes, Sheriff.” Her stiff tone told me Betty’s lip was stiff too. I had hurt her feelings and she was going to be all professional like she always did when I would correct her. “Officer Vincent called in. He said the evidence was collected and to call Mrs. White to let her know it was all clear. He found a calendar where she had cancelled an appointment with Art Baskin to set up a security system.”
Art Baskin. I had completely forgotten about Art and his home security systems. He and Doc Walton were friends. I wondered if Doc had a home security system. Not that it would work if he had it off, but maybe there was a clue somewhere.
I put Art on the list of people to visit.
“Finn said that she should probably reschedule that meeting and get a system put in.” Betty just talked and talked. I was getting good at drowning a lot of the nonsense out, but this caught my attention.
Why wouldn’t Viola already have a security system in place? That seemed odd for a jewelry store, even in Cottonwood.
“Thank you, Betty.”
I rolled down the volume button and turned back toward Sterling. Even though this was my investigation, I was glad Finn took the initiative to get the evidence sent off and Viola back into her shop.
I bit my lip. Maybe this town council meeting was a good time to voice my opinion on being short-staffed. Plus, Sterling wasn’t doing anything to hurt the investigation since he was outside keeping guard.
“You are doing great. Do you mind ripping down all this police tape and throwing it away? Then you can go on about your day.” I patted his arm and waited for a break in the light traffic before I darted across the street.
Kim’s Buffett was busy with the lunch rush. Mrs. Kim was behind the counter taking orders from the long line of customers while Mr. Kim and their daughter, Gina, were behind them in the open kitchen slicing, dicing, and throwing soy sauce on everything in sight.
I moved my way around the crowd to the counter, not without feeling a few eyes on me.
“What you want?” Mrs. Kim’s broken English had gotten better over the years. She always looked angry, but she squinted even more than usual now as she scowled at me. Gina had gone to great lengths to help her parents fit in in Cottonwood, but the Kims’ attitudes still reminded me of drill sergeants. “We know nothing about the crime spree taking place here. Thinking of moving.” Mrs. Kim’s combativeness was apparent right away.
“I wanted to know if I could use your expertise for something.” The way I saw it, I could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and being nice to Mrs. Kim was mighty important right now.
“Me? Expertise on the American law?” Her eyes opened a little more. Her lips pursed. “Hurry up.” She flung her hands in the air. Behind her, Gina and Mr. Kim looked curiously over at me. “Don’t you see I have a long line of customers here?”
“It will only take a second.” I took the camera out of my bag and turned it on, flipping quickly through the images. I showed her the picture the thief had painted on the carpet at White’s. “Do you know what this means?”
“Family.” Mrs. Kim didn’t hesitate, tucking a piece of her short black hair behind her ear. “Means family.”
&nb
sp; “Find out who the family is.” The voice drifted through the air like a light breeze. I gulped.
“Are you alright?” Mrs. Kim asked without any emotion in her voice. “Kendrick? Your face all flush.” Mrs. Kim never called me by my nickname. She believed in formality and a nickname was not up to her standards.
I closed my eyes, trying to get my wits about me. The voice was the same voice from my dream. My Poppa’s. My face felt hot and my head began to spin. I held onto the counter with one hand, hoping the wave of crazy was going to pass.
“Gina, must hurry.” Mrs. Kim’s voice echoed in my head. “Hot tea,” she ordered, her hand waving in the air.
“I’m fine.” I opened my eyes and waved her off. I took another gulp. “Maybe a hot tea would be good.” I sucked some air in through my nose and out my mouth.
“You need doctor. Stress too much for you.” Mrs. Kim took the paper cup of tea and handed it to me. She pointed to the door. “You must go. I’m busy.”
“Family.” I held the camera back up to get one more confirmation.
“Yes.” She didn’t bother looking at me or saying goodbye; she simply pointed to the picture hanging on the wall with the same stick symbol in my photo. “Family. Next!”
Chapter Twelve
A picture of Camille Shively in a graduation cap and gown and all sorts of colored cord ribbons around her neck was prominently displayed in the waiting room of her office, surrounded by her endless diplomas.
The room was filled with several small brown leather loveseats and end tables, as well as inviting artwork, looking more like a living room than a waiting room. The trickling water fountain in the corner instantly calmed me, making me second-guess if I should’ve even stopped in without an appointment.
When I tried to sign in on the clipboard at the window, the receptionist immediately shooed me away and rushed to the back to tell Camille I was there.