“Hey, Cash,” a familiar voice said. “Miss Rebel.”
Rebel shivered as Sorrel Nelson came shuffling up to their booth. She’d never liked the way his shifty eyes were always darting about. He was in his campus security uniform. She had to admit, it was clean and well pressed.
“On your way to work, Sorrel?” Cash asked.
“Yep, the midnight shift calls.” He waved to Liddy who was bustling behind the counter. “You have any fresh baked donuts tonight, Miss Liddy?”
“I sure do, Sorrel, give me a minute,” she said.
Sorrel leaned a hip against the end of Rebel’s booth seat and said to Cash, “How’d your visit to West Jefferson go?”
“How’d you know I was there?”
Sorrel shrugged and began to unscrew his thermos cup. “I stopped by the PD earlier an’ Sara told me you were gone for the night.”
“Why’d you stop by the PD?” Sorrell scratched his head and reached past Rebel for the coffee pot behind her. His cologne was strong, and she could have sworn she got a whiff of—
“I had some information for you. Not sure if it means anythin’ or not, but it sure seemed kind of queer to me.”
Rebel’s nose twitched. She would swear on a stack of gran’s bibles that Sorry smelled all fragrant like a rose. But that could be because there were single stem roses on each of the tables.
“I’m all ears, Sorrel,” Cash impatiently said.
“Well, I had gone to take some things to my desk an’ on a hunch took a stroll ‘round campus. As I entered the gymnasium, I heard some voices comin’ from the locker room, which is kind of strange on a Sunday, so I went to investigate.”
“And?”
“Well, they were angry voices, sounded like a jealous lover’s spat. Then it got quiet, so I walked ‘round the corner an’ I saw Colette Prebe an’ one of the other coaches kissin’.”
“What’s so queer about that?” Rebel asked.
“It were a girl coach.”
Shaking his head, he filled his thermos cap with coffee and took a sip.
“You’re saying you saw Colette Prebe kissing another woman after you heard them having what sounded like a lover’s spat?” Cash asked for clarification.
Sorrel nodded and took another sip of his coffee. “Yessuh, an’ it got me to thinkin’, maybe it weren’t Drew who killed poor Jami, but his sister. She’s as big an’ strong as a man.”
“What would be her motive?” Rebel asked him before Cash could.
“Maybe she wanted Jami for herself.”
“Do you think she wanted Katie Burkhart, too?” Cash asked.
“Katie who?” Sorrel said.
“The girl who was killed five years ago.”
“I wouldn’t know nothin’ bout that.”
“Really?” Cash drawled. “Wasn’t that right about the time you came on as a Reserve Officer?”
“Yessuh, but I was goin’ to Conrad Community College full time, an’ didn’t have much time for police work.”
“I hear you. I’ve been working full time here as a detective and going to college full time to boot. It’s exhausting.” Cash took a sip of his coffee. “I started over at Conrad before transferring to night classes at Gilman because the schedule was more flexible with my job. I don’t ever recall seeing you there.”
“Maybe our schedules were opposite?”
“Maybe.”
“Miss Rebel,” Sorrel said, handing her his thermos cap. “Would you mind pouring me anothah cup, so I don’t have to bend over you?”
Rebel nodded and took the cup and smelled that same whiff of rose. She poured the cup of coffee, but before she gave it to him she leaned over and smelled the rose on the table. Barely a scent.
Rebel handed Sorrel the cup of coffee and asked, “Do you know much about Mr. Lincolns, Sorrel?”
“The president?”
“No,” Rebel slowly said, “The type of rose.”
“I don’t know much ‘bout roses, except they’re nice to look at.”
“Did you know that some roses have no fragrance at all while others do, and that each type of rose has its own unique fragrance, just like a girl has her own unique scent?”
He sipped his coffee. “If you say so.”
“For instance, this rose here on the table is a primrose. It has barely any scent at all. You have to put your nose right in it to smell what little it offers.”
“Okay.”
Rebel caught Cash’s questioning stare, indicating he wondered where she was going with this. It was all she could do to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. How coincidental was it that Sorrel smelled like a Mr. Lincoln and the killer just left one on her pillow? Ever so subtly, Rebel inclined her head toward Sorrel, hoping Cash would get it that she was suspicious of him.
“Now those Mr. Lincoln’s they have a bold distinct scent. Some call it Damask. I call it heady musky. You could blindfold me and put a hundred roses under my nose and I’d be able to pick out that one Mr. Lincoln.”
“Well, ain’t that a talent,” he said, setting his cup down. “Would you mind fillin’ this thermos up for me, Miss Rebel? I’m gonna be late for my shift if I don’t get movin’ soon.” Unwaveringly, he held his hand holding the thermos under her nose. She had the urge to grab it and whack him with it, but she didn’t. Cash would have her hide if she were wrong about Sorrel. Even though she knew she wasn’t. Rebel snatched the thermos from him and filled it, then handed it back to him. “Much obliged.” He looked at his watch and then to Cash. “I need to light outta here if I don’t want to get fired.”
“Well, you’d best get on then,” Cash said.
Rebel kicked him hard in the shin. He grunted in pain, but made no move to go after Sorrel.
After Sorrel grabbed a bag of fresh baked donuts, paid his bill, and said goodnight, he exited the diner.
Rebel turned to Cash. “I smelled Mr. Lincoln on his hand! He did it! I know it.”
“Simmer down, Rebel.”
“I don’t know what tipped you off, but you suspect him, too. Even without what I just told you. I could tell by the way you were leading him around with your questions. Add to that the fact he smells like a Mr. Lincoln, you have enough to arrest him.”
Cash shook his head. “The last place I’m going to apprehend a suspected killer is in the middle of a diner. But don’t you worry. I’m going to go after Sorrel my way, on my time.”
Rebel growled frustrated. “You’re gonna keep this close to your chest? After all we’ve been through?”
“I’m not taking any chances with a woman who doesn’t understand a simple command,” Cash said as he stood and threw some bills on the table. “C’mon.”
Five minutes later, Cash pulled up in his driveway, wishing he could lock Rebel up for her own good. Short of that, as he ushered her into his house he said, “Rebel, I want you to swear on your mama’s heart you will not leave my house until I get back. If you won’t swear I’m going to lock you up in the courthouse jail.”
She turned around with her hands on her hips. “What if the Sorrel tries to break in and kill me?”
“Call 9-1-1.”
“You have an extra gun?”
“You know how to shoot one?”
“You’re looking at a bona fide NRA Expert Riflewoman.”
It didn’t surprise him. Nothing about her did. “There’s a .38 in my top dresser drawer. It’s loaded.”
Cash should have felt more anxious leaving Rebel alone in his house with a loaded gun, but he didn’t. Call him crazy, but his gut told him she could handle that thing better than him. Besides, if his hunch was right, she wasn’t going to need it.
He left the house and drove to the PD and went to the main computer on the Chief’s desk. He went back five years and looked up the chain of evidence to see who it was that took the box of evidence to the post office. “Damn it!” No signature. How’d that get overlooked? Or had it been deleted? Who had access to the computer? Everyone in the offic
e; including volunteers like Reserve Officers.
He went to a different file and looked up Lulu Tidwell’s home phone number. Lulu’d been the contrary face of the Lockerby Post Office for over fifty years and retired the last three.
After several rings, a grumpy old woman answered, “It better be important or I’m gonna shoot ya.”
“Evening Miss Lulu, this is Detective Cantrell. I’m sorry to bother you so late—”
“Detective who?”
“Cantrell, Lockerby Police?”
“Oh, are you that tall, dark one?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Whatcha want?”
“I’m sure you remember the Katie Burkhart case five years ago?”
“Course I do, everyone’s still talkin’ about it.”
“The box of evidence that you shipped to Raleigh—”
“I told Chief Buckly, I personally sent that box on its way, whatever happened to it happened after I sent it.”
“I’m sure that’s true, ma’am. What I wanted to know is if you recall who it was that brought the box in to be mailed. That would have been someone from the police department.”
“Of course I remember, it was that odd boy, the one with half an oar in the water. Sorrel something or other.”
Cash’s heart thumped in his chest.
“My second cousin Eda Jean’s neighbor, Margaret Ann, says that boy might pay his rent on time, but that’s about all he’s good for, ‘cept fixing things ’round the house.”
“Do you know where Miss Margaret Ann lives, Miss Lulu?”
“She’s over on the corner of Sweet Pea and Lily.”
He lived at the other end of Lily.
“Thank you, Miss Lulu.”
Cash hung up and immediately called his house phone. The line was busy. Damn it! Who was Rebel talking to? He hung up, grabbed his radio and clicked it. “Office Whittier, this is Detective Cantrell, what’s your twenty?”
Earl Whittier was the midnight shift officer on patrol and if he followed routine he was sleeping over at Gilman somewhere.
“Hey, Cash,” Earl’s chipper voice came over the radio. “I’m over at the Piggly Wiggly taking a statement on a car crash.”
“I need you to drop what you’re doing and meet me at the university campus security office.”
“Ten four.”
Five minutes later, Cash strode into the office and stopped short. There on the front desk was a vase of red roses. The entire office smelled like roses. “Mags?” Cash called.
“I’ll be right out?” she called back.
A minute later, a fireplug of a woman, Mags Potter, rolled out of the restroom. Cash pointed to the flowers. “Would those be Mr. Lincolns?”
“Why, yes, suh they sure are.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“Sorrel brought them in last week. They sure are stayin’ fresh an’ sweet smellin’.”
“Would you radio Sorrel in, please?”
“I cain’t, he called in sick ‘bout twenty minutes ago.”
“Shit!”
“Thank you, Miss Liddy,” Rebel said, hanging up Cash’s phone. One good thing about small towns was everybody knew everybody and where they lived. And Sorrel Nelson was renting a room just down the street and around the corner. Rebel grabbed the gun from Cash’s dresser drawer, then slipped out of the house into the garage and smiled. Just what she was hoping for—a bicycle. She could get over there quick and quiet, take a look around while Sorrel was at work and be back before Cash knew she was gone.
Sliding the gun in between the small of her back and her jeans, Rebel hopped on the bike and peddled herself down the street to the three-story brick house. She stopped at the house next door, set her bike up against the fence and carefully moved down the line of robust rose bushes. She’d seen them many times, always admiring the owner’s flair for growing such beauties. Gran would be pea green with envy. As Rebel moved further along the property line to the back of the property, she caught the distinct scent of Mr. Lincolns and even more distinct, the eerie sound of a shovel hitting moist earth. Who would be digging at midnight other than a murderer with something to hide?
Her heart thudded like a runaway train in her chest. The sound was coming from behind the woodshed in Miss Margaret Ann’s backyard. Rebel moved closer to the sound and heard a man’s voice.
“She thinks she’s so dang smart.”
The hair on Rebel’s arms stood straight up. It was Sorrel. Why wasn’t he at work? She moved around to get a better look to make sure it was him and gasped at the sight. He’d dug what could only be described as a grave. And beside him was Cash’s evidence bag.
He stopped digging as the breeze picked up. She was upwind of him. She froze as he slowly turned and faced her. “You smell sweeter than any Mr. Lincoln, Rebel,” he slowly said. He was sweaty and dirty in his uniform, and with his shirt open and his chest exposed, she saw deep scratches.
“Did Jami do that?” she asked, pointing to his chest.
He nodded, the shovel still in his hand. He was about ten feet from her, and Rebel figured if she had to pull the gun and fire, she’d have enough time.
“For such a little thing, she sure put up a fight.”
“Did Katie put up a fight too?”
“Yessum. They both did.”
“Why’d you do it, Sorrel?”
“Doncha’ mean Sorry? I know what all y’all call me behind my back.” He laughed. “But who’s sorry now, Rebel?”
Rebel’s knees knocked a little. She was terrified, she wasn’t gonna lie to herself about that. But she wasn’t all jelly, either. She had a gun and knew how to use it. “It wasn’t right, Sorrel, making fun of you like that behind your back. And for my part in propagating it, I’m sorry.”
“I ain’t so dumb now, am I?”
“Murdering two girls isn’t so smart, Sorrel.”
“Shut up,” he hissed and pointed to the grave. “That’s for you.”
Rebel shook a little more. “Why’d you kill Katie and Jami?”
“Those girls were so stupid! Datin’ those Kappas like they was somethin’ better than the rest of us. They weren’t in the end when they got dumped by ‘em,” Sorrel scoffed. “Those stupid cows couldn’t see those Kappas was just milkin’ ‘em.” His gaze drilled into Rebel. “Me? I woulda given ‘em both the world.”
“You always acted the gentleman, Sorrel. I’m sure you would have.”
“All I had to do was bide my time. I saw how Halstead was usin’ Katie. She was helpin’ him cheat on his finals. If it hadn’t been for her, he woulda flunked outta college. He dumped her the day he got his passin’ scores. She was heartbroken over that bastard. I went out an’ bought her a gold heart, took her a rose, too. I promised to take care of her an’ she laughed at me. She wasn’t laughin’ anymore. Not when I got done with her.”
“But Jami and Drew—”
“She was pregnant! Pregnant with his baby. When she told him, he freaked out an’ begged her to get an abortion. She told ‘im she was going to sue ’im for child support an’ ruin his life if he din’t marry her. I thought he was going to kill her when she told ‘im that. But damn if that boy din’t just walk away like she was invisible. After I stole back the heart pendent I gave to Katie from her mama, I snuck it into Jami’s locker. Then I took her a rose, an’ told her I’d take care of her an’ the baby, but she laughed at me like Katie did.”
“Poor, Jami,” Rebel sobbed.
“She deserved it! She was white trash, anyway.” Sorrel stepped closer to Rebel. “I left you the heart pendant an’ a rose. Did you like ‘em?”
“You scared me to death, Sorrel Nelson! Climbing on my roof like that. What were you thinking?”
“I knew if I just showed up at your door a gentleman proper, you’d laugh at me like the others.”
Rebel felt bad about that. “You’re right, Sorrel, and I’m ashamed to think I’m that kind of person. But all of that aside, you just can’t go ‘ro
und killing girls for laughing at you.”
“Put the shovel down, Sorrel,” Cash said from behind her.
Rebel’s belly flipped flopped as she felt Cash’s big body come closer. She hadn’t realized how terrified she was until she felt his presence. She turned to thank him when Sorrel threw the shovel at her, hitting her in the chest. He turned and ran.
Cash ran past her. Rebel caught her breath, more in shock than in pain, and then took off after them both. When she came around the corner of the house, Cash had Sorrel face-first in a pile of manure Miss Margaret Ann used on her rose beds.
Cash handcuffed him and yanked him up by his Elvis hair. “You apologize to Miss Rebel for throwing that shovel at her.”
Rebel rubbed her chest just below her shoulder where the flat part of the spade hit her.
“I’m sorry, Miss Rebel,” he said, staring at the ground.
“You’re the one who’s gonna be sorry, Sorrel Nelson, when you get to prison.”
When Officer Whittier arrived on scene, Cash handed Sorrel over to him with instructions to take him to the courthouse jail. As the two left, Cash turned to Rebel and harshly said, “Damn it, woman, you gave me your word you wouldn’t leave my house!”
She smiled coyly and said, “I am embarrassed to admit, I lied to you.”
Cash’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you know what I do to liars?”
A thrilling shiver ran through her.
“No, suh,” she said, stepping into his personal space. “And I really don’t give a care.” She stood up on her tip toes and slid her hand around his neck. His body was tense, his muscles hard, but he didn’t push her away. She brushed her lips across his surprisingly soft ones and whispered, “Thank you for saving my life twice tonight.” Then kissed him full on.
His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her closer as his lips opened to her probing tongue. It was like fire meeting fire, the intensity of it taking her breath away. She wanted it to go on forever.
But Cash ended it all too quick. He pressed his forehead to hers, holding her close.
“There’s a part of me that wants to do this, Rebel. All of it, not just part.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a long minute then opened them. “But I can’t because I’ll want to stay. And I have to go.”
Guns and Roses Page 32