Music, Murder, and Small Town Romance

by K C Hart

The unexpected kindness struck a soft chord with Katy that she did not normally let people see. She tried to hold back the tears, but they crept out the corners of her eyes and rolled down her face. “That is so sweet.” She pulled a tissue from the box on the edge of the desk and wiped her eyes. “I can’t believe they all pulled together and did that for us.”

  “Ain’t it great?” Laura Jean laughed again. “I have to tell you though; I was on pins and needles all last week. If y’all had not gotten in I think we might have had war world three on our hands. But now they are just so proud. It has really boosted their spirits.”

  “I don’t know how we’ll be able to thank them for this,” Katy said, dabbing her eyes.

  A nurse’s aide knocked on the door frame and stuck her head through the door. “Mrs. Laura Jean, the natives are getting restless. You about ready to start setting up?”

  Laura Jean stood and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind Katy’s head. “It’s ten ‘til. You tell them that we start at one and not before.”

  The young girl nodded and disappeared back through the door. Laura Jean grabbed a stack of bingo cards as she walked around the desk. “Come on. We can finish talking while I set up the bingo cards. The bingo biddies think that if they get here ten minutes early, I will start ten minutes early.”

  Katy followed the activities director back into the dining area and waved to four blue-haired women who were already sitting at a table near the front where Laura Jean would be calling the numbers. “Are those the one’s you’re talking about?” Katy whispered as she took some of the cards from Laura Jean to start placing on the tables.

  “You know it. They’ll try to go through the cards and pick the one they want, too.” She laughed good-naturedly and waved as more of the residents started filling up the room, getting ready for the big game.

  After they had set up the cards, Katy followed her back to her office to get the cage with the balls. She looked at her watch. It was still five ‘til one. “Do you mind if I ask you a question before you get started?”

  “Not a bit.” Laura Jean stopped and propped an ample hip up on the corner of her desk. “What do you need to know?”

  “I was wondering if you could tell me the name of Rob Clay’s cousin. Mrs. Simmons told me that he would come visit Mr. Clay’s mother and his mother until they both passed away.”

  “That would be Donnie Gibson. His sweet little mother died about a week ago. Poor Donnie won’t know what to do with himself now,” Laura Jean answered.

  “Donnie Gibson,” Katy repeated. “Does he live here in town?”

  “I am sure he does. You know, he is part owner of the music store. I guess he’s full owner now that Rob Clay died.” Laura Jean glanced at the clock again. “I have two more minutes. Anything else?”

  “No, I guess that’ll be it.” She hugged Laura Jean one more time. “I still can’t believe that you did that for The Moonlighters.”

  “Now listen,” Laura Jean said as she glanced at her door to make sure none of the residents were within hearing range. “When y’all come to sing next time, don’t let on that you know anything. They want to surprise you.”

  “You got it,” Katy answered. She followed Laura Jean out of her office and waved at the residents as she walked through the dining area. A few waved back, but most were either looking at their bingo cards or watching Laura Jean as she stepped up to the bingo cage to turn the crank. Bingo was very serious business indeed.

  She had one of the aides let her out the front door and she returned to her car. So, Rob Clay’s cousin owned half of the music store. She had never noticed him in there before, but then again, she didn’t go in there very often. Maybe she would see him at the funeral. She needed to call Misty and find out when the funeral was scheduled. Would all of his girlfriends be at his funeral? That would be pretty uncomfortable if they were. Of course, they may not know about each other. But they would soon if Barbara Nelson kept talking to everyone who came through the post office doors.

  Chapter Five

  Katy tilted her head down and to the left, bringing her left ear toward the body of her guitar, meticulously tightening the string by turning the small knob at the end of the neck with her left hand. She lightly plucked the string with her right hand and grimaced as the pitch changed slightly with every minuscule turn. She lifted her head at last.

  “I think that should get it.” She strummed a G chord and listened as the sound floated from the instrument. Smiling, she looked around the room at the rest of her band members. “Does anybody have any ideas about the two songs we should do for the competition?” She had her own ideas but wanted to hear what the group had to say before voicing them.

  “Me and Sarah and Heather have been talking,” Vickie said, sitting her mandolin down by her side. “We think “Crazy” should be the slower song.” Her big green eyes looked from Katy to Misty for approval.

  “That’s one of the songs I had picked out, too,” Katy said, relieved that they had come up with the same idea. She knew that the three younger women would go along with whatever she though was best, but it was nice to let them have a say in what they performed. “What do you think Misty?”

  Misty stood and walked around the drum set. “I think that would be perfect. What about “Momma Didn’t Raise No Fool” for the faster one?” She looked from one member to the next to gauge their responses. “It has a really great tempo, the harmony is perfect, and it’s a song about mommas teaching their daughters to respect themselves.”

  The three younger band members began agreeing immediately, but Katy frowned slightly.

  “Katy, you don’t want to do that one?” Misty asked. “I guess we could do something else, but that just seems like the perfect song to me.”

  Katy rubbed the smooth guitar pick back and forth between her fingers. She had thought of this song, too, but this was one of the few songs where she sang the lead. “I don’t know,” she said slowly, without looking up. “Maybe we should think of an alternative.”

  “What’s wrong, Mrs. Katy?” Heather asked. “You know we’ll sing whatever you think is best, but that really is a cool song.”

  Misty stepped closer and put her arm around her best friend. “I can tell you what’s wrong. It’s because you sing the lead on that song.”

  Katy twisted her lips and looked out the corner of her eye. Misty could read her like a cheap romance novel. “I just think we should probably do one where Heather or Vickie sing lead. They are used to it, and, well,” she paused and looked at the three young women standing in front of her. “Well, what if I mess up and cause us to lose?”

  Heather, Vickie and Sarah started protesting in unison, reminding Katy of a bunch of cackling hens. “Okay, ladies,” Misty laughed and started back toward the drums. “We’ll submit ‘Crazy’ and ‘Momma Didn’t Raise No Fool’ as our songs for the competition. End of discussion.”

  After the practice, which took place in Sarah’s mom’s den, Katy packed up her guitar and followed Misty out. She clicked her key fob and opened the back car door to slide in the guitar case. “Do you know when Rob Clay’s funeral will be?” she asked. “I need to drop by and express my condolences.”

  “They’ll have the visitation tomorrow from five to nine and the actual funeral will be Wednesday at ten.” Misty propped against the side of her car which was parked next to Katy’s and watched as her friend finished loading the guitar. “The funeral will be held at the funeral home.”

  “Are you going?” Katy turned and propped against her Honda, facing her friend.

  “I guess I need to,” Misty sighed. “I didn’t really know the man except by reputation, but he was a member of our church, and since I was there when they found his body I kind of feel obligated to make an appearance.”

  “He was a member of our church?” Katy drew her head back and pursed her lips. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yep.” Misty nodded her head. “I don’t think he’s been in years, but according to
what the obituary says, that’s where he claimed affiliation. When are you going? I would rather have a little moral support when I go. I don’t mind funerals, but I’m dreading getting asked a bunch of questions about how he was found.”

  “We’ll probably drop in for a few minutes tomorrow night. Have people been bothering you trying to find stuff out?”

  “Several people have called to place floral orders and asked if he had a wire around his neck.” Misty swallowed hard. “I guess somebody is saying that’s how he was strangled.” She raised her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know if he had a wire around his neck. As soon as I saw him lying there with those bulging eyes, I turned my head.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Katy reached across and squeezed her shoulder. “I could tell it was rough on you. Maybe people will find something else to talk about soon.”

  “I sure hope so. I don’t see how you stayed up there with his body until the law arrived.” Misty smiled slightly. “You always have had a lot of spunk.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. You have plenty of spunk yourself.” Katy slapped at a mosquito that landed on her arm to have a snack. “Did you know that Mr. Clay’s cousin owns half of the music store?”

  “You mean Donnie Gibson? I thought he just worked there. I didn’t know he was part owner.”

  “I heard through the grapevine that he’s Rob Clay’s cousin and they were in the music store business together. I guess I need to try to verify that. Maybe I can find out somehow at the funeral home tomorrow.”

  “Sounds like you’re snooping around again.” Misty looked pointedly at her friend. “Does John know you’re asking questions and looking into stuff?”

  “Yes, he does,” Katy answered with a bit of stubbornness in her tone. “He does and he is okay with it.”

  “Alright,” Misty held up her hands, warding off Katy’s words. “If he’s okay with it, I am not going to interfere. I just don’t see why you would want to put yourself in harm’s way.”

  Katy looked down at her watch. “I’ve got to run,” she said, deciding to let the subject drop. “I’ll talk to you at the funeral home tomorrow night.”

  She got in the car and looked at her phone. She had put it on silent during band practice. Emma Robinson had called but had not left a message. She looked at her watch again. It was only eight. She dialed Emma’s number.

  “Hey, Mrs. Katy. Thanks for calling me back.”

  “Of course, Emma. What can I do for you? Oh, and we missed you at church Sunday.”

  The voice at the other end sighed and cracked slightly, like she was fighting back tears. “Thank you, but I think you probably know why we weren’t there.” Emma sniffed and stifled a sob. “Would you mind if we got together somewhere to talk? I really need to get some advice.”

  “Sure, honey. I can come over to your place, or you are more than welcome to come to mine.”

  There was just a second of silence as Emma thought about where she wanted to meet. “I think we had better meet at your place. Tubby’s at band practice, but I would rather be some place where we won’t have to worry about him walking in on us.”

  “Okay, that will be fine. I’m coming back from my practice now. Can you meet me at my house in about twenty minutes?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Katy called John and told him about the meeting. He said he would find something to do in another part of the house so the ladies could have some privacy.

  Emma arrived at Katy’s house as planned, and they sat in the living room with the customary glass of sweet tea that was offered to all guests.

  “Now, Emma, tell me what’s on your mind.” Katy sipped her tea and looked across at the young woman on her love seat. Emma’s china blue eyes were red around the rims, but her mascara and eyeliner still looked perfect. Katy could not ever remember when this young woman’s make-up was anything but perfect. “Have you been crying?”

  “Is it that obvious?” Emma asked, running her pointer fingers under her eyes to remove any streaks or smudges. “I just don’t know what to do. I’ve gotten myself in a mess.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on. I promise I will keep it to myself. Sometimes things get clearer after you talk through them.”

  “First of all,” Emma took a deep breath. “I don’t know what Tubby told you, but I did NOT kill that man.” This time Emma couldn’t stop the tears from spilling from her eyes. She pulled a tissue from a pocket of her oversized designer bag and wiped the tears as they streamed down her face.

  “Oh honey, I never thought you did that for a minute.” Katy moved over to sit by the young woman. “I don’t think Tubby believes it either. He just got shook up when he saw that dead man.”

  Emma leaned her head over onto Katy’s shoulder. “I hope you’re right, but it sure did hurt to hear him ask me if I had strangled that guy. Do you know he believed that I choked that man with a guitar string?”

  Katy patted Emma’s shoulder like she had done her with own daughters years ago, when they still brought all their troubles for her to help them work through. “I think a lot of that was the alcohol talking.” She paused and waited for Emma to blow her nose. “You know we saw a note by Mr. Clay’s body that was signed EM.”

  Emma sat up and turned to face Katy. Her eyes were wide, and her pupils dilated with the panic that was starting to build in her system. “You have to believe me, Mrs. Katy,” she said, grabbing Katy’s hands and squeezing them until her knuckles were turning white. “I didn’t write that note. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t me.”

  Katy tried to slip her hands from the death grip that Emma had on them but couldn’t. Her fingers were starting to throb from the pressure. “Try to stay calm, honey. I don’t think you wrote that note. We’ve just got to figure out who did.” She pulled slightly at her hands again. “Emma, dear, I think you are breaking my fingers.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry.” Emma immediately released Katy’s hands like they were hot coals. “I just don’t even know what I’m doing.” She ran her fingers through her long blond hair without messing up a single strand. “There is one thing I need to tell you about. Tubby don’t know and I am afraid that when I tell him he might leave me.”

  Katy rubbed her hands together gently to get the blood flowing again, then tucked them safely between her knees, out of Emma’s reach. “What is it? It can’t be that bad.”

  Emma hiccupped as she stifled another sob. She turned to face Katy, summoning up the courage to reveal her secret. “I’ve been meeting with Mr. Clay every Tuesday night for about a month.”

  Katy’s face pulled tight with surprise as what Emma said soaked into her brain. “You’ve been meeting with Rob Clay?” A slight hint of nausea crept into her gut.

  “Yes ma’am, but it’s not what you think.” Emma’s voice begged Katy to not judge her. “You see, Tubby has band practice every Tuesday. I usually go with him, but, well, I just kind of feel left out sitting there by myself listening. So, I contacted Mr. Clay and have been taking guitar lessons every Tuesday night, so Tubby won’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Guitar lessons?” Katy let out a breath that she didn’t even realize she was holding.

  “Yeah, guitar lessons. I thought that if I got to where I could play a little, Tubby might let me be a part of some of the practices. I don’t want to play with them when they are in public or anything. I just want to be more involved.” Emma hiccupped again, waiting for Katy to respond.

  “Honey, is that your big secret?” She let out a small laugh as she hugged the young woman. “Now you listen to me. You’ve got to talk to your husband before he drives himself absolutely crazy.”

  “Do you think I should tell him? Do you think he’ll believe me?” Emma fired the questions at Katy one after the other, not giving her time to answer. “What if he thinks I was…well, that’s just too nasty to even say, but what if he doesn’t believe me?”

  “You tell him the truth,” Katy said, taking E
mma’s hands in her own. “He can sense that you’re keeping something from him and it’s driving him nuts. You be honest with him and I know he’ll believe you.”

  Emma looked at Katy with a slight glimmer of hope. “Are you sure?”

  “Are you sure he loves you?” Katy asked.

  “Oh, yes ma’am. I know that,” Emma exclaimed.

  “Well then, trust him to do the right thing.”

  Katy twisted her shoulders, first to one side then the other, while she rolled her head around like it was too heavy to hold up. The tension had built up throughout the day and settled just like a heavy lead weight across her neck. Rob Clay was not the man he presented to the town over the radio or at his store. He apparently chased after every woman who would give him the time of day, and for some reason, was able to lure them into his trap. She just didn’t see why any woman with half a brain would throw caution to the wind to get involved with him. He was actually forty-eight years old but tried to look younger with his fake tan and spikey gelled hair. She knew his age because she looked him up in her old high school yearbook. She didn’t know when he had turned into the town player. Back then he had been the stereotypical geek. Braces, acne, giant gold-rimmed glasses: the classic nerd.

  At least Emma had seen him for what he was. Unfortunately, she had trusted him enough to meet with him every week for the guitar lessons. The funny thing was, she said that he had never even made a pass at her, and she seemed rather disgusted by the notion that he would.

  “He’s just a creepy, sad old man, but he agreed to give me the lessons after hours,” Emma said, after she admitted to meeting with the man. “I never dreamed that Tubby would think I would have an affair with him.” Her voice climbed to a sharp level and her eyes snapped with anger. “That man is probably twenty years older than me.”

  Emma had left in much better spirits. She planned to tell Tubby about the guitar lessons when he got home from band practice. Katy prayed that Tubby would have enough sense to believe her.