The Traveling Corpse

by Double Edge Press

  “We don’t know,” Barb put in, “and nobody has seen her, and there has been no missing person report filed on her behalf.”

  The two officers asked more questions. The seniors filled in small details. Finally, satisfied, Sgt. Menendez said, “That seems to wrap things up for now. I’d like to go over to Old Main and have you show me where you found the scrap of material, the tissue and the two shoes. Perhaps it’s best if only two of you go with Joe and me.”

  Art suggested, “Annie, if you show them those four places, I’ll get the evidence from Doc. It will arouse less suspicion if I go in the kitchen alone and ask him to get the foil packages from the freezer.”

  When the deputies drove out of the Vigeaux’s driveway, they had four pieces of evidence, but no body. Annie said to Art and their friends as they watched the officers leave, “They were a lot more interested in listening to our theories this morning than they were last night, but we still haven’t convinced them that a crime really happened. Who knows? They may be laughing about all this and saying something like, ‘That little-ole senior woman’s got a screw loose!’ But I don’t. All the screws in my brain are just fine,” she said as she rubbed her left temple. “I’ve got to show them I’m not crazy! I’ll be like that cute saying that Nelly told us once at Coffee Hour: ‘A woman is like a tea bag. You don’t know how strong she is until you put her in hot water.’ Well, I’m in hot water now, and I will be strong—with God’s help and all of you to support me. Now I’m going home to take a nap.”

  * * *

  Wednesday Afternoon, 3:00 P.M.

  The year before, in 1993, the resident owners of BradLee Retirement Park could finally boast that their park now had two, much used 18-hole golf courses. They paid for the new land for the second 18 holes by selling golf view lots. To help keep their golf fees down, volunteers ran the Pro Shop and did other tasks like laying the cement for the cart paths. Women golfers, with a lot of help from the men, held a huge rummage sale each winter that netted over $30,000.00. Golf courses are expensive to maintain. The Gold course was the newest, longest, and most popular. The Blue, the original course, was executive length.

  “Which course do you want to play?” Verna asked the Golfing Gals.

  “Tha Gold is always so busy. We’ll probably have ta wait if we want ta play on it,” DeeDee said, “an’ it’s already the middle of tha afternoon, an’ it gets dark early in January.”

  Annie added, “We don’t want to be out here too long since we’ve got the park dinner tonight.”

  “Well, then, we’ll tee-off on the Blue front nine,” Barb decided. “We won’t have to wait long; there’s only one foursome in front of us. Besides, I like to watch the ostriches and emus there alongside the fifth hole.” The farmer who owned the land adjoining the south end of their golf course raised ostriches and emus and sold their meat which is prized because it is lower in cholesterol than beef.

  “I like ta watch ‘em, too, ‘specially this time of year,” DeeDee said.

  “What’s so special about this time of year?”

  “It’s their matin’ season—goes from now ta August, Doc says ya can tell when it’s that time of year ‘cause tha front of tha male ostrich’s legs turn pink. His beak turns pink, too; some days they are pinker than others. I don’t know jest why.”

  “It’s fun to watch that big male show off,” Annie said. “He dances around and lifts up his wings, pumps them up and down a little on his back. They look like huge black and white fans that he doesn’t quite open up all the way.”

  Barb said, “There’s a huge alligator in Crescent Pond, but those big birds aren’t the least bit afraid of him.”

  “Yah, he jest seems ta do his thing, an’ they jest do theirs!” DeeDee laughed. “Actually, Doc says those big birds have a powerful kick an’ that tha big toe stickin’ outta each foot can rip a person open. Ya don’t wantta mess with ‘em.”

  A crescent-shaped pond ran south along the boundary of the fifth hole and curved around into a farmer’s field. A sagging wire fence divided the top of the water into two sections.

  “I wish people wouldn’t feed that ‘gatah,” Verna said as she hunted in her bag for some tees. “They should let wild animals be wild animals. It’s not safe to feed an alligatah, and I don’t think it’s good for it, eithah.”

  “There’s one man,” Barb said, “I’ve seen him myself, he throws chicken bones, and I don’t know what else, out there. He must save up his garbage and then bring it with him. When he sees the alligator, he unzips a pocket in his golf bag, pulls out a plastic bag, and goes over and dumps it near the pond. Guess he likes to see the ‘gator go for it. Those pre-historic beasts can run really fast when they want to. I think it’s a very stupid thing for him to do.”

  “I do, ta,” DeeDee agreed. “That wire fence doesn’t look very sturdy ta me. If that ‘gator got riled up, I jest bet he could push it down if he wanted ta.”

  While Verna was pulling her golf glove on her left hand, she said, “Oh, by the way, Von and I saw the crocodile aftah you left this morning.”

  Barb interrupted, “Don’t you mean alligator?”

  “No. It’s a crocodile, and it’s swimming over in Memorial Pond. Its head looks different than a ‘gatah’s. From the side, it almost looks like it has a pig’s snout on the end of its long, narrow nose. It was gliding through the watah. Von and I watched and watched it. We’d nevah seen one in Florida before.”

  DeeDee explained further, “Doc says tha American Crocodiles didn’t used ta come this far north, but we’re beginning ta have more of ‘em up here.”

  “Your Doc knows so much about animals. He told me once,” Verna said, “when we were playing this hole, that raising those ostriches and emus is a school project. The Future Farmahs of America, the FFA, I think it is, is sponsoring them.”

  “That’s interesting,” Barb said. Then she changed the subject, “Do you want to walk the course or take the golf cart, Annie?”

  “Let’s walk. The exercise will do us good, and it will warm us up, too.” She loosened the strap that held her golf bag and its attached pull cart and lifted them down off the rear of Barb’s cart. Next, she stepped on a lever to release the wheels of the pull cart, and they spread apart. Raising the pull handle, she tightened a screw and was ready to go.

  As Barb was taking her clubs off, she asked DeeDee and Verna, “Are you girls going to walk or ride?”

  Verna looked at DeeDee, “Are you up to walking the front nine?”

  “Actually, I don’t think so. My sciatica’s startin’ ta act up some. Do ya mind if we ride?”

  “Fine with me.”

  Barb reminded them that they hadn’t signed in yet. As she turned toward the Pro Shop, DeeDee called, “Will ya sign me in? It’ll save me from walkin’ in there.”

  Verna worried, “You really don’t feel well, do you, gal? Sure you want to play today?”

  “Well, I don’t feel tha greatest right now, but let’s try it. I never know when it’s goin’ get better or worse!” DeeDee said as she unzipped her windbreaker. “It’s so sunny an’ lovely out taday, even if it is on tha cool side. Can ya believe that my sister in Tennessee is freezin’? They had a horrible ice storm. Chattanooga can be so beautiful when every little branch and twig is covered in ice, but law, I’d sure rather be here in tha sunshine than lookin’ at icicles!”

  Her friends nodded their agreement.

  Barb, the tallest of the women, was the best golfer of the foursome. She usually hit the longest drive, although DeeDee, who was the shortest and tiniest of them, often challenged her. But not today. DeeDee’s leg was paining her and it interfered with her swing.

  The first hole was a short one. The women’s tee was poised on a narrow neck of land that lay between two small ponds. Barb drove first off the tee, over-shot the green and ended in the rough. Annie hit on. Verna’s landed hole-high just to the left of the green, leaving her with an easy chip shot. DeeDee pulled her club, and her ball lobbed up an
d dropped into the water to the right. “Oh, dear, this isn’t gonna be pretty taday,” she moaned.

  By the time they finished the third hole, it was apparent that DeeDee’s sciatica pain was nearly constant. Twist and turn as she tried, she couldn’t seem to get any relief; so she decided not to drive off the fourth tee. Verna offered to take her home, but DeeDee declined, saying, “I don’t wantta spoil tha game fer ya all. I’ll jest ride along.”

  “Why don’t we all quit?” Annie suggested.

  DeeDee protested, “Oh, no you don’t! I don’t want ta be a spoil-sport.”

  Annie urged, “We could go to my place and play bridge.”

  The other women agreed, but DeeDee admitted, “Thanks, ya are all darlin’s ta be so kind ta me. But I couldn’t sit still long ‘nough ta play bridge either. This sciatica’s really acting up jest now, but it is so sweet of ya all ta offer. Anyway, ya shouldn’t stop playin’ now, Annie. Ya are havin’ a great round.”

  Looking at her score card, Annie smiled, “Can you believe this? I’m actually beating Barb by two strokes! That’s a switch.”

  Verna decided, “I don’t care what you say, DeeDee; I’m taking you home. You need your heating pad.” To Annie and Barb she said, “You two play out without us. Doc may not be home yet, so I’ll stay with DeeDee until he comes home.”

  This time, DeeDee didn’t protest.

  As they said good-bye, Barb pointed out the twosome following them, “Let’s let those men play through. There’s no one coming behind them, and they hit so much farther than we do; they’ll leave us in their dust. There’ll be no pressure on us then.” She waved them through.

  “Fine with me,” Annie said. “I have to go to the potty, anyway.” She started walking, stopped, and looked around. Puzzled, she asked, “Where is it?” Where’s the Port-A-Potty?”

  Barb looked surprised too, “I see the new building over there in the shade, but I don’t see the old one. You wouldn’t think they’d take the old john away before the new restroom was ready.” As she looked around, she saw Art coming toward them. He was driving the park’s John Deere tractor with a front-end loader mounted on it and a big smile on his wind-burned face.

  “Look at that grin!” Annie said. “He’s like a kid with a new toy when he gets to drive that tractor.” Art slowed down and waved to his wife and Barb. Annie yelled to him above the noise of the motor, “Having a good time?” Art grinned wider. She continued, “Do you know what happened to the Port-A-John?”

  He couldn’t hear her; so he throttled down the engine. She repeated her question, and then he answered, “They had it hauled away. If they kept it another day, they’d have to pay for a whole month’s rental, so the Golf Board decided to save the money. Anyway, the new restroom is supposed to be ready in a day or two.”

  “Great,” replied Annie. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Suffer?” Art pointed to a tree. “No, thanks, Honey,” she said, straightening her sun visor. “I thought you said you men were pouring cement this afternoon.”

  “We had to put it off again. Something’s wrong with the cement mixer. I’ve been driving the tractor, digging out some more of the cart path. Then I was down on my hands and knees helping the fellows put the 4 inch by 6 foot wooden forms in the ground ready to hold the wet cement. If the weather holds, we can pour tomorrow.”

  “See you at home,” Annie called to her husband as he put the tractor in gear.

  “Take care,” Art yelled back and drove off.

  After he left, Annie said, “Now that I’ve talked about going, I really have to tinkle. I’ll never make it around the rest of the nine.” She headed toward the new restroom building.

  Barb called out in alarm, “You’re not going in there, are you? It’s not finished!”

  Annie ignored Barb’s warning and kept walking toward the new double restroom. She admired its construction and mentally gave thanks to Randy, a friend of theirs in the park, who had designed the new restrooms for the golf course.

  Barb caught up to Annie, and Annie said to her, “I know they’re not ready for use yet, but they’ve taken the other john away. I have to tinkle. For heaven’s sake, I’m not a man; I’m not going behind a tree!” She shoved a cement block away from the bottom of the door on the right. The door handle had not yet been installed, but a hole had been drilled for it. She put her fingers in the hole and pulled. It would not budge. She instinctively rubbed her left temple, thinking it strange that the door wouldn’t open since there was no way to lock it. In her hurry, she turned to the stall door on the left. She pushed that cement block aside, put her fingers in the drilled hole and opened the door. With anticipated relief, she slipped inside and shut the door.

  Barb called to her, “The electricity hasn’t been connected yet. Isn’t it dark in there? You must be going using the Braille system!”

  “Actually, it’s light in here,” Annie replied. “There’s a solar panel in the ceiling; so it’s nice and light in here, thankfully. But there’s a funny smell.”

  Barb suggested, “Maybe somebody else peed in there before you and that’s what you smell. You can’t flush it, can you?”

  “Yes, I can. You don’t have to have electricity to flush a toilet.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I don’t know. I must have heard it from Art; you know he was a contractor. Built lots of houses. There’s a strange smell in here, especially for a new building.” Annie finished and opened the stall door to exit. She said, “Smell it, will you, Barb?”

  Barb entered and sniffed. “I’m not sure I smell anything, but then my nose isn’t as sensitive as yours. I broke it when I was a kid. Since I’m in here, I might as well go too.” When she came out, she took time to examine the right stall door that Annie had tried first but that wouldn’t open. “Look at this, Annie. This door is nailed shut! No wonder you couldn’t open it. Now why would someone nail just one of the doors shut?”

  The two friends exchanged questioning looks.

  “I’d sure like to see in that stall,” Annie said. “There might be a dead animal in there—a rabbit or a squirrel or even a dead fox that I’m smelling.”

  With a grim look on her face, Barb said, “Annie, let’s face it, a person is an animal. You know there could very well be a dead body in that restroom; don’t you?”

  “I don’t want to think so, but you could be right. We’d better check it out before making any wild assumptions. I can’t call that sergeant and ask her to come out here because I smell something.”

  “What do you want to do?” For once, Barb didn’t take charge.

  “I do have an idea,” Annie said. “You’re taller than I am. If you stand on the toilet seat, I think you might be able to peer over the top of the cement block partition. It doesn’t go all the way to the roof. You could look down into that other stall, and with the solar light, you’ll be able to see what’s in there.”

  “I’m getting a little old to be climbing,” Barb joked.

  But Annie knew her friend was game to try when Barb asked, “Should I take off my golf shoes? The cleats will probably dig into the brand-new toilet seat.”

  “Leave them on; you’ll need all the height you can get. Wait here a second.” Annie scurried out of the bathroom and over to her golf bag. She unclipped the Turkish towel she had hanging on it; then she lugged the cement block into the little room.

  “Good thinking,” Barb praised her friend as she spread the towel over the toilet seat. Then Barb lifted the cement block and set it on top of the towel. “Now comes the tricky part; I’ve got to climb up on top of all of that. You do get me into the darnedest places, gal!”

  “I’ll help you,” Annie promised, and after several tries, Barb was stretched out to her full height of 5’ 10” and peering down into the other side.

  “Oh, my gosh!”

  “What? What do you see, Barb?”

  “No wonder you smelled something!”

  “What, Barb? What is it?”

/>   “Well, it’s not a rabbit or a squirrel, and it’s too big to be a fox.”

  “Barb, stop teasing me. What do you see?”

  “It looks like a dead woman to me.”

  Annie gasped, “And?”

  “It’s a dead red-headed woman with no shoes on, and it looks like there’s a tear in her light-blue denim jeans.”

  “Move Number Five,” Annie said, numb with fear.

  “We need to get out of here, Annie, and we need to do it right now! Whoever locked her in here will surely be back for her.”

  Annie finished Barb’s thought, “And we don’t want to be here when he does. Give me your hand, gal; I’ll help you down. I don’t think we’re going to finish this round of golf. We need to get to a phone and call the Sheriff’s office. We’ve finally got the body—real evidence of a crime. They’ll have to believe us now.”

  Barb hesitated, “We probably shouldn’t both leave. One of us should stay here and watch the body. They always do on TV crime shows, and the sarge kinda scolded us already for not staying by the drawer Tuesday night.”

  “I know, but do you want to stay by yourself?”

  “Not really, I’d be scared. There aren’t any golfers on the course; it’s too late in the afternoon. Looks like we’re alone out here.”

  “You’re right,” Annie agreed. “We’ll just have to go together and take a chance that the body doesn’t disappear again.”

  The two senior women started walking at a fast pace toward the Pro Shop pulling their clubs behind them. As she hurried along, Annie sent up a prayer, “God, it’s Annie down here, and Barb too. We’ve just found a dead body, and we’re scared. Please put your arm around us and protect us. Amen.”

  Barb’s long legs covered more ground with each step than Annie’s shorter ones did. “Wait up!” she panted. “I’m coming as fast as I can.”

  As Barb stopped and waited for her friend, she was aware of a pair of stately Sand Hill Cranes digging into the sandy soil. Glad they’re not on a green right now. They can really tear up that short grass with those long beaks, she thought to herself. The tall gray birds with a distinctive bright red patch on the crown of their heads moved across the golf course with dignity. She remembered Doc telling her that they were probably the tallest birds native to this area, usually just a little bigger than a Great Blue Heron. There were three pair in the park this year. Each set usually stayed near its favorite watering hole—kept to its own territory. When Barb first visited her parents in BradLee in the late 1970s, she didn’t remember seeing any Sand Hill Cranes in the park back then. But they were thriving here now. She could always recognize this particular male bird as his left foot was missing. A turtle or alligator may very well have bitten its foot off while it was standing in a pond. She thought how cruel nature can be; then she thought about the cruel thing that had happened to the dead woman sprawled on the cold cement floor of the new restroom.