by Ann Mullen
“How do you like that?” I whispered to Billy. “What’s he doing here, and how’s he connected to Donald and Wynona?”
“We’re about to find out.”
Bruno reached his car, put a hand on the door handle, and opened the car door. He was about to get in when Billy and I stepped out from behind the trees.
“Forget something, Bruno?” Billy asked.
Startled, Bruno turned and fired the gun he had been trying to conceal. The minute the shot went off, Billy snatched it from his hand, and then punched him in the face. The blow knocked him up against the car and then to the ground. Bruno was down.
The bullet hit me square in the chest, the force of it knocking me to the ground. I was completely caught off-guard. The pain was insufferable. I lay there trying to catch my breath, while I clawed and pulled at my vest, trying to get it off. I felt as if I had been hit with a sledgehammer. I was suffocating. I couldn’t speak.
Billy was by my side in an instant. He helped me sit up and then pointed to the spot on the vest where I had been hit. He kept telling me that I was going to be all right. The vest had saved my life. All I could think about was how sick I felt all of a sudden. I pushed at him, leaned over and puked.
“It’s okay,” Billy said, soothing me with his voice. “Sometimes, the impact brings out that kind of reaction. I know. I’ve been there. Go with it. You’ll feel better.”
“I doubt that,” I managed to say.
“Here,” Billy said as he placed Bruno’s gun in my hand. “I have to hurry. I need to get inside and get my bug before the police come back. You know somebody heard that shot and reported it. I don’t want us to get caught here again.”
“Go,” I mumbled. “Go… I’ll be all right.”
“If Bruno comes to…”
“Trust me,” I replied. “I know what to do.”
Billy took off running.
I sat in the wet grass waiting for Billy to return, keeping my eyes on Bruno. When I heard him moan, I stiffened and pointed the gun at him. I didn’t know what his reaction was going to be, but I was prepared. If he tried anything, I was going to shoot him in the leg. Billy always said to shoot ‘em in the leg. It’ll stop them, but it won’t kill them… unless you hit an artery. I wasn’t worried about hitting an artery. I wasn’t that good of a shot.
“I’m so sorry,” Bruno said, getting to his knees. He scooted over close to me. “Are you all right? Thank God, you were wearing that vest.”
“That’s what Billy said,” I groaned, the pain still radiating through my chest. I looked down at my vest. “I just got this thing. I guess I’ll have to buy a new one now thanks to you.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Bruno said. “It was my fault. You shouldn’t jump out of the dark at someone. You scared me to death. I almost had a heart attack.”
“I don’t want you to buy me a new vest,” I replied, snidely. “I want to know what you were doing here. How do you know Donald?”
“Wynona’s my sister.”
“I feel sorry for you, pal. She’s a killer.”
“You don’t know the whole story.”
“I know enough. I heard her tell Donald that she hated him and wanted to get rid of him ever since her lover died. How’s that for knowing the story?”
“What? What are you saying? Things have been very bad between her and Donald, but Wynona didn’t have a lover.”
“She was having an affair with her husband’s business partner, Hank Sharp. When Hank tried to break it off, she killed him… and Donald covered it up.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Suit yourself. We have her confession on tape. Want to hear it? I’m sure Billy will be glad to play it for you when he gets back.”
“She called me earlier and said she was going to kill Donald,” Bruno said in a defeated way. “She told me about the scene with Flo Garner and about her shooting at Donald. Wynona then said she would shoot Donald with the .38 he had bought her, and blame it on the bookkeeper.”
“When did you talk with her?”
“Right after Flo left. Wynona went to her bedroom to get her gun and that’s when she called me. It was just before she shot him.”
“She called the police right after she shot Donald. She didn’t even give you time to make it to her house before she called the cops. Why would she do that?”
“Because I told her there was no way I was going to be a part of it.”
“But here you are.”
“I didn’t really believe she’d do it. She’s threatened before, but it was all talk. At the last minute, I decided I’d better come over here and see what was going on. I can’t tell you how many times she’s said she was going to make Donald pay for treating her so badly.”
“He’s paying now.”
Bruno and I were still sitting on the ground when Billy returned. Billy twisted the cap off a bottle of water and handed it to me. “Here, drink this,” he said. “It’ll make you feel better.” He looked at Bruno. “I see you’ve come to. You’re lucky Jesse was wearing a vest, or you’d be dead right now. What possessed you?”
“I told Jesse that I didn’t mean to shoot her. Y’all startled me, and the gun went off. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”
“Bruno is Wynona’s brother,” I offered, handing the gun to Billy. “He came here to get this gun. It’s the one Wynona used to shoot her husband. She called Bruno and told him she was going to kill Donald, but Bruno didn’t take her seriously. Apparently, this isn’t the first time she threatened to kill her husband.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Billy responded. “So the cops didn’t find the gun. She must’ve hidden it well. Where was it?”
“Wynona hid it in a loose board under her bed.”
Billy handed the gun to Bruno and said, “I suggest you go to the Sheriff’s Office, give the gun to Sheriff Hudson, and tell him the truth about why you have it. You don’t want to go to jail for withholding evidence or being an accessory after the fact. You could do more time than Wynona.”
“They didn’t find the gun, so I’m sure they immediately tested her for GSR,” I added. “They knew she shot Donald. If you try to hide this gun, you’re going to get in trouble. Better to come clean now, instead of waiting until they find out. You don’t want to go down that road.”
“I guess you’re right,” Bruno replied. “If what you say is true, there’s no helping her now. I sure don’t want to go to jail. Is Donald dead?”
“We don’t know.”
A siren wailed in the background.
“Let’s get out of here,” Billy said as he scooped me up in his arms. “Just leave us out of it. If they ask you about the gunshot that was reported, all you have to say is that the gun accidentally discharged. Good luck.”
Billy ran to the 4Runner carrying me and limping part of the way. Once he had put me in the car and got in himself, I asked, “How’s your leg? You’re limping again.”
“My kneecap’s bruised a little and it hurts, but I’ll survive. I’ve had worse... a lot worse.”
“Hey… I got shot in the chest!” I said, joking. Then the reality of how it would affect my mother dawned on me. “Don’t dare tell Mom what happened. If she knew about this, she’d really flip out.”
“I agree. This, we will keep to ourselves.”
Billy pulled the Toyota out onto the road, with Bruno not far behind. A minute later, we passed a Greene County police cruiser with lights flashing and siren going strong.
“I guess Bruno decided not to wait and tell the cops what happened,” Billy said. “For his sake, let’s hope he turns the gun in.”
“He could just dump it. I would if it was me.”
“Yeah,” Billy laughed. “Just like you did awhile back with that bloody shirt of mine. I’m sure you’ll never forget that one.”
“I was trying to protect my man,” I replied, smiling at the thought. “And I’d do it again. It worked. They never did find that shirt.”
&nbs
p; “That’s because you burned it. What would you have done if it turned out that you destroyed a crucial piece of evidence that could’ve proved my innocence?”
“I was young and naïve then. I’m much smarter now.”
“But you’d still do the same thing all over again.”
“Yes. When has the presence of blood ever proved one’s innocence?”
When we passed the Sheriff’s Office in Stanardsville, I looked up in the rearview mirror to see if Bruno was going to turn in, but I didn’t see him. He had already turned off. He was definitely not going to turn over the gun.
“He’s going to regret it,” was all Billy said.
The ride home was uneventful. Nobody tried to run us off the road, and nobody called to tell us to come over right away because of a dead body hanging around. I was worn out by the time my head hit the pillow and fell asleep before Billy even made it to bed. He was roaming the house for some reason, but I was too exhausted to ask him why. I slept soundly, until I was awakened by the ring of a telephone.
The phone rang... and rang... and rang.
“Would somebody please answer that?” I called out. “I’m trying to sleep, and I can’t with that thing going off in my ears.”
The dogs started barking. I could hear them running back and forth in the house, their nails scrapping the hardwood floor. Their barking grew louder and angrier.
“What on earth?” I sat up in bed and yelled, “Be quiet! Will ya? I’ve got a headache and I’m trying to sleep.” I looked over at the clock on the nightstand, which showed that it was now six o’clock in the morning. “I didn’t go to bed until almost three. Could you please keep it down? I’d like to sleep for at least another hour.”
Nobody answered. The phone had stopped ringing, but was soon followed by someone knocking on the front door.
“Somebody get that,” I yelled out again. I lay back down and tuned out the noise, until I heard someone scream, “Get out of here!”
“No, I’m not,” Bruno yelled, his voice resonating down the hallway. “I’m not going to give the gun to the cops, and you can’t make me!”
A gunshot blasted and echoed throughout the house.
Instantly, I jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen, only to find it empty. I looked down at the floor and saw blood everywhere. There was even blood on the wall. It looked as if someone had just been brutally murdered here. My heartbeat quickened and my pulse raced. Then, I saw that the front door was standing wide open. The house was dead quiet.
“Where is everybody?” I cried out. “Hello! Answer me!”
There was no response. I looked around for a second, and then ran to the door out onto the porch. I stood there in the early morning light and looked around the yard. It was misty and overcast like it gets after a heavy storm, but there was no denying what I saw next. A woman’s body was lying on the ground, covered with blood. She was motionless, her body limp like wet hair in the rain. I ran to her to see who she was, trying to maintain control and not cry. The minute I bent down to check her out, someone came up behind me and smashed me over the head. I blacked out.
“Wake up, Jesse,” Billy said, shaking me. “You were having a bad dream.”
I woke up and discovered that it had only been a bad dream. I was so relieved, until I realized that every time I had one of those dreams, something bad has happened, or was going to happen. I rarely had nightmares, but when I did… watch out… someone was going to get the bad end of a whipping stick, or someone was going to die… or had just died. Was it a curse, or was it just my imagination?
“There was a woman’s body in the front yard,” I cried, still half-asleep. “Bruno shot her. There was blood everywhere. I thought it was my mother or Helene, but... it was only a dream... a bad dream.”
Billy sat down on the bed next to me, took my hand in his, and calmly said, “You need to take a shower and wake up. I have to talk to you.”
“What is it?” I asked, looking into his eyes for a hint. “You sound so serious.”
Helene walked into the bedroom with both children by her side. She was holding their hands as Maisy continuously chatted, while Ethan tried to put a few sentences together. The minute they saw me, they both ran to the bed. Maisy crawled up on it, but Ethan needed a little help. A second later, both dogs came running into the room, jumped up, and circled until they found their spot on the bed. Athena and Thor lay down and were content to just be on the bed with us.
“All we need now is the cat to make this gathering complete,” I joked, trying to put the images of the bad dream out of my head.
Maisy, understanding what I had said, called out, “Kitty… kitty.”
Spice Cat appeared at the doorway, looked around, and then meandered over to the bed. He jumped up and proceeded to make himself comfortable on one of the pillows.
I looked at Billy and said, “Now that the gang’s all here maybe you can tell us all what you have to say.”
Both Helene and Billy looked at each other, and then Billy said, “This we will need to discuss without the presence of the children.”
“I guess that means I’m going to get crazy when you tell me whatever it is you want to tell me. It must be pretty bad.”
“It is, `ge ya, and I don’t want the kids to see you so upset.”
By now, I was beginning to get worried. Something really bad must have happened if Billy didn’t want to talk about it in front of the kids. The first thing I thought of was my mother.
“Tell me my mother is all right,” I demanded almost in tears.
“Minnie’s fine,” Billy said with a smile. “You know I would tell you right away if something had happened to your mom.”
I felt a sense of relief. Whatever had happened, I could cope with it as long as it didn’t have anything to do with my mother. I would have to face that possibility one day, but hopefully, not anytime soon. I felt better already.
“Okay, then,” I said relieved. “I guess it’s time for me to get out of bed.” I leaned over and hugged the kids and then teased the dogs. I left Spice Cat alone. He had a tendency to get all riled up if someone bothered him when he wasn’t in the mood. Once, I tried to play with him, and he scratched me. He wasn’t in the mood and he let me know in his own special way. So, after that, I wait for him to make the first move. He wasn’t moving today.
After a playful period with the kids and the dogs, I crawled out of bed. “Time for a shower,” I said. “Mommy is a dirty Bert.”
The kids laughed at me while Helene ushered them out of the room with both dogs playfully following behind them. The cat stayed put. Nobody messes with him, or tells him what to do.
Billy kissed me on the cheek and said, “Enjoy your shower, and then we will talk.” He turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving me with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. What did he have to tell me that was so important? I pondered this the whole time I was in the shower. By the time I had finished, I was in a state. My fear had gotten the best of me. After examining the saucer sized bruise that had appeared in the center of my chest, I dressed and then hurried to the kitchen—our gathering place.
Billy had a cup of coffee waiting for me. He handed it to me and said, “You might want to sit down.”
I looked around, and then sat down at the table.
“If you’re looking for the kids, Helene took them to the den to play. They’ve already eaten, so don’t worry. Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m not. I just want to know what it is that’s so bad you had to prepare me for. What has happened? Oh, no! Is it your mother? Chief Sam? Tell me, Billy!” The bruised site on my chest began to ache. If my vest hadn’t taken a bullet there, I would’ve thought I was having a heart attack.
Billy hesitated as if he was trying to get up the nerve to lay some horrible news on me, and then he said, “First, let me just say that Donald Rhodes is going to pull through.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it?” My relief was visible. I smiled, letting go
of some of my tension. “I’m glad to hear it. For a minute, I thought you were going to tell me somebody died.”
“Someone did.”
“Spit it out, Billy! You’re driving me nuts.”
“McCoy Kelley was killed last night.” Tears filled his eyes as he continued. “During a domestic dispute.” Billy had become close friends with McCoy during our cruise on the Bella Constance. I knew he was upset over the news of his death. I sure was.
“Don’t tell me that Savannah killed him!” I jumped up from the table, knocking over my cup of coffee in the process. Billy hurried to the sink and grabbed a dishrag to clean up my mess. As he wiped up the spilled coffee, I paced the floor. “I don’t believe it! Killing that woman in self-defense, if that’s what it was, is one thing, but killing her husband is another. I knew there was something fishy going on. I hope they lock her up and throw away the key! She belongs in jail.”
“Wait a minute,” Billy said, walking over to the counter to get more coffee for me. “I didn’t say Savannah killed McCoy.” He filled my cup and then sat it back down on the table. “Sit down, Jesse. There’s something else I have to tell you.”
I walked back over to the table, sat down, and sipped my coffee while I took it all in. I couldn’t believe that McCoy was dead. The thought of it made me almost sick to my stomach. I started running off at the mouth about Savannah.
Billy stopped me by saying, “I thought Savannah was your friend. You’ve been flip flopping about this whole situation ever since that woman was killed. One minute you think Savannah’s innocent, and the next, you want her to get the death penalty. What gives?”
“I stopped trusting her the minute she started lying to us. She tells one story to us, and then she tells a different story to the cops. She lied about her and McCoy. They weren’t working things out. Their marriage was caput.”
“What would you tell the cops if your husband’s dead mistress was in your garage? Perhaps, she thought they were working it out, until she was confronted by Andrea Holt.”
I jumped up from the table and started pacing again, deserting my coffee. “Don’t give me that. She’s a liar. Their marriage had gone down the tube. It was over, so why did she want people to think any differently? I’ll tell you why. All she ever thinks about is herself and her image. She was covering her butt. If she lied about her marriage, then what else has she lied about?” My voice was going up an octave the longer I spoke and the more I paced the floor. “She lies about her relationship with McCoy. She lies about not knowing Andrea—that’s what she led us to believe when she called us about the body in her garage. At first, I thought it was just an intruder. Then I find out it was McCoy’s secretary, who just so happens to have a baby by him. It just keeps getting uglier and uglier by the minute. Now McCoy is dead. What am I supposed to think?”