The Traveling Corpse

by Double Edge Press

  “Thanks, Barb, I needed that,” Annie laughed. “And with that, I think I’ll go home.”

  Barb replied quickly, “Why don’t you just stay here, Annie? Spend the rest of the afternoon with me. We don’t have to play Bridge. You can rest; then we’ll go over to my parents’ house for supper like we planned.”

  Both Verna and DeeDee thought that was a good idea, and Verna advised, “It’s probably safah if you aren’t alone until Karl is undah lock and key.”

  Reluctantly, Annie agreed. “Art wanted to cancel out and not go to the tournament, but I promised him I’d be with Barb and her folks for supper, that he could go and not worry about me.” Shaking her head, she continued, “I’ve never lived through a week like this in my whole life, and I hope I never have to again. Much more of this, and I’ll be ready for the rocking chair.”

  “That’ll be the day!” Barb laughed as she said good-bye to DeeDee and Verna. None of them could imagine active Annie sitting and doing absolutely nothing. They never dreamed that that was just what Annie was going to have to do.

  Annie let Barb pamper her. She relaxed in a comfortable black leather recliner. Barb tucked a colorful afghan knitted in black, white, red, and turquoise yarns around her. Then she put on a CD of Broadway tunes and handed Annie the crossword puzzle and a sharp pencil before curling up in the matching recliner. Soon the two senior women were snoring in light, rhythmic breaths.

  * * *

  Monday, Early Evening

  At four-thirty, they roused themselves and got ready to leave. Annie rode her bicycle back to her house with Barb following in the golf cart. Together they headed for their supper party with Barb’s parents. After the dishes were washed and put away, they played Canasta.

  As they were saying their good-byes, Annie raved again to Barb’s mother about the delicious strawberry shortcake dessert, “Your homemade biscuits were sooooo good topped with the first strawberries of the season! Those Florida berries from Plant City are so tasty.” Then, as she climbed into the golf cart beside Barb, she added her highest compliment, “Your strawberry shortcake tasted just like my mom used to make.”

  At Annie’s house, Barb pulled her Club car off the driveway and parked on the grass in front of the house. Annie started to thank her and say good-bye, but Barb got out of the cart, pocketed her key and said, “Your house is dark, and Art’s car isn’t in the drive; so that means he isn’t home yet. I’ll stay with you ‘til he comes.”

  Annie started to protest, “You’ve been so good to me. I’ll be okay until Art gets back.”

  Barb insisted, “Look, you’re probably right. But, until they have Karl locked up, let’s not take any chances. C’mon. Have you got your house key?”

  Annie held it up to show her friend, then stepped from the grass onto the cement drive. Before she reached her side door, which was inside the screened patio located at the end of the driveway, she heard a moan. Barb heard it too. Both stopped and listened. This time Annie thought she heard her name. A woman’s voice coming from the far side of the patio was calling in a weak voice, “Annie, help me. Help me.”

  Annie shoved the key into Barb’s hand and hurried to find the source and put her nursing skills into use, if necessary. She found Kitty crumpled in the fetal position on the grass at the foot of a nandina bush. From the dim light of the street lamp, Annie could see blood and bruises and what looked like a broken arm. She dropped to the ground beside the battered woman to cradle her and urged Barb, “Call 911. Get a blanket from the hall closet. I’ll stay with Kitty.”

  As soon as Barb unlocked the door and disappeared inside, Annie sensed, more than heard, something behind her. Before she could look around, a hand grabbed her under her left armpit, and she was being yanked up to her feet. Kitty’s head and shoulders thumped from her lap and hit the ground at her feet. When Annie opened her mouth to scream, a handkerchief was shoved into it. Then the man controlling her sneezed down the back of her neck, and she shuddered, wondering if that gag in her mouth was clean or had he used it? Before she could worry about that, he clamped his hand over the bottom of her face; so she couldn’t spit it out. Then he began dragging her towards Barb’s golf cart. Her heart sank when she finally got a glimpse of her attacker. She had felt sure it was Karl, and it was. His usually perfectly styled hair was now mussed up, a stubble of beard covered his rugged face, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

  Annie closed her eyes and prayed silently, Lord, it’s Annie, and I really need Your help and Your strength. And, Lord, Karl needs Your help too. Amen.

  He forced her to climb in the cart from the driver’s side, making her scoot awkwardly under the steering wheel. She had to do his bidding because he was bending her left arm up in the painful Half-Nelson hold. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a golf cart key. With a sinking feeling, Annie knew it would fit as all the Club brand carts used the same key. Desperately, she kicked at his leg, but he put more pressure on her arm. It throbbed. Instinctively, Annie knew: Karl won’t care if he breaks my arm. He’s already broken Kitty’s. He’s drunk, and I’m really, really scared of him.

  Silently, the cart moved forward when Karl put his foot on the pedal. He turned the wheel and drove between her house and her neighbor’s. She had no idea where he was taking her or why he was leaving his wife for strangers to care for her wounds.

  A few seconds later, Barb stepped from the house down into Annie’s patio; she had a blanket over her arm. She called to tell Annie that the EMTs were on their way. There was no answer from Annie, only a moan from Kitty. Frantically, Barb began calling for Annie as she ran to where Kitty lay and covered her with the blanket. Then, Barb circled Andersen’s home, calling out all the while. No answer. When she realized that her golf cart was gone, she thought: Annie wouldn’t leave Kitty before getting her help. No, someone must have done something to her, and that someone is most probably Karl. I’ll bet he followed Kitty here. She closed her eyes in real pain as she realized: Karl has kidnapped Annie. I’ve got to call Sgt. Menendez.

  * * *

  Karl kept his left hand on the steering wheel while his right hand controlled Annie with the Half-Nelson hold. She turned her head away from him, and with her free hand, she pulled the handkerchief out of her mouth and let it blow away; then she screamed. He applied more pressure. She stopped screaming; he eased his grip on her. She was his prisoner, but her mind was free, and it was racing. She realized that he was driving toward Old Main. What could she leave as a clue to where she was? She thought: I wish I’d kept that nasty handkerchief; it had my saliva on it. She found a tissue in her pocket. Desperate, she spit into it and when she had a chance, she pushed the tissue into an azealea bush when Karl turned a corner close to the curb. She thought: No one will see it in the dark. Probably won’t do any good. It seemed silly, but memories of Hansel and Gretel leaving a trail of breadcrumbs seemed like a grand idea to the kidnapped woman.

  She thought to herself: Maybe I can get him to talk. Maybe I can reason with him. He’s drunk, but it’s worth a try. I don’t have anything to lose.

  Trying to talk in a casual, normal voice, Annie asked, “Where are we going, Karl?”

  “Shut up.”

  “We need to go back and take care of Kitty. What happened to her?”

  “Bitch.”

  Annie swallowed. She didn’t know if he were calling her or Kitty a bitch. She ignored his slur, asking instead, “Why are you making me go with you? Art will be home soon, and he’ll be looking for me.”

  “It’s all your fault.”

  “My fault! What have I done?”

  “If you’d kept your God-damned nose out of my business, like you should have, everything would be all right now.”

  “Please, Karl, you don’t have to swear.”

  “You and your goody-goody ways. Why’d ya have ta go an’ put your God-damn feminist ideas in my Kitty’s head? Keep your modern ideas ta yourself.”

  “What did I do to Kitty?”

  “She had t
he nerve to talk back to me. Said you told her she didn’t have to do everything I told her to do. Always did as I told her ‘til you came ‘round fillin’ her head full of the Devil’s wicked ways.” To make his point, Karl pulled up on her bent arm making Annie scream in pain.

  When it subsided, Annie asked, “Is that why you beat her up?”

  “You bet. She deserved it.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you and Kitty when I told her women have the right to think for themselves.”

  “Not in my house. I may be old-fashioned, but I was raised to believe that the man is the head of the household. Just like it says in the Bible.”

  That reference to the Bible really upset Annie, and she forgot she was a prisoner, arguing, “You male chauvinists only read the first part of Ephesians 5 where it says a man is to be the head of his house. If you’d read just a few verses further on, it tells a man to cherish his wife. What you did to Kitty—you beat her up, broke her arm—that’s not Biblical.”

  “Shut up. You and your fancy way with words. You’re a troublemaker.”

  “Is that why you’re kidnapping me?”

  “You deserve it.”

  “But, Karl, this will only make things worse for you.”

  “It can’t get any worse. It’s all your fault, and you’re gonna pay.”

  Annie squeezed her eyes shut and prayed: Lord, please put the right words in my mouth, and please soften Karl’s heart. Amen. Then she asked Karl, “What else is my fault?”

  “Shut up you bitch. You talk too much.”

  Involuntarily, Annie shuddered when he swore at her.

  Karl pulled the golf cart to a stop beside Old Main and ordered Annie to get out. Frantically, she looked around, hoping to see the BradLee security pickup truck. No luck. She knew that every evening two couples volunteered for security duty between 9 and 11 P.M. The paid security guard came on at eleven. He’d lock up the buildings and then patrol the park until 5 A.M. Annie thought: It must be a little after nine o’clock now. The two women volunteers will in the office manning the phone while their husbands drive up and down the streets of the park on the lookout for any trouble—usually teenage boys up to mischief—like swiping a golf cart for a joy ride. Well, Annie prayed: Lord, this isn’t mischief; I’m in a lot of trouble. I need help. I need Your help, and I need it now! Amen.

  In a low, but threatening voice, Karl ordered her to get out, then he shoved her towards the double doors of Old Main. Still gripping her left arm in the Half-Nelson, he pushed her into the dark empty hall and turned to the right. Now Annie knew he was making her walk towards the Bingo closet where he kept the supplies for the weekly games under his lock and key. She had never seen the storage room open, but she knew she was about to learn more about the inside of that tiny room than she ever wanted to know.

  Summoning up courage, Annie asked Karl, as he was unlocking the door in the dark, “Why are we coming here? You don’t need Bingo supplies now.”

  “There are more things in here than stuff for Bingo.”

  “Like?”

  “Duct tape. Very handy for taping mouths shut. Mouths that talk too much to the Sheriff’s deputy. And for taping over eyes. Eyes that see too much in big drawers.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Oh, yes I would. There you go with your talk, talk, talk. Shut up.” Karl slammed the closet door shut before flicking on the light. There was no window. The walls of the small room were lined with metal shelves which were piled high with Bingo cards, marking pens, office supplies, etc., plus all the equipment used on the stage. She saw him pick up a large roll of duct tape.

  She took a step back, and asked, “Why did you do it, Karl? How did Twila die? Was it an accident?”

  “Sortta, we didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “We? You and who else?”

  Before answering, Karl reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a flask. Tipping his head back, he took a drink. While he was concentrating on drinking, Annie tried to open the door, but before she could, he slapped her so hard that she fell against a metal shelf then slowly slid down to the floor at his feet. He swore at her, “Bitch, try that again, and I’ll hit you harder.”

  Annie rubbed her temple. Her hand came away with blood on it. She pressed her fingers down to stench the flow.

  “That Twila was one of those high-faluttin’ feminist females—thought she was as good as a man. Karl slurred his words when he answered, “Ya wanna know who was with me? It was my best friend, Jiggs. He stood up for me ‘gainst her. Never questioned me. It made him mad, too, when that new woman accountant with the fancy title ‘CPA’ began talkin’ down to us. She just made me so mad comin’ in and makin’ fun of the way I took care of Bingo. Jiggs got mad when she started accusing me of skimming money. That Jiggs was a real friend. He stood up for me.”

  Karl chuckled. “I gave her a shove. She backed up into Jiggs. He pushed her towards me, then I knocked her back to Jiggs. It got to be a game. We were playing ‘Pickle’ with her bein’ the pickle. Served her right.”

  “Who actually killed her?”

  Ignoring Annie’s question and still thinking about the pic-kle game, Karl smiled, “It was fun to see her bouncing back and forth between us. She sure didn’t look like any big exec giving big orders. Nah, we took her down a peg.”

  Annie was frustrated, “But how did she die?”

  “Got too close to the edge of the stage and fell off. Hit her head on the edge, I guess it was.”

  “Why didn’t you just call 9-1-1? Nobody would have imagined you’d been bullying her.”

  Karl dropped his head, and to Annie’s surprise, the big man began to sob, “I’ve asked myself that a million times.” He took another drink. “If we had, Jiggs would still be alive. I lost my best friend.”

  “No,” Annie countered. “Jiggs was a good friend, but your best friend was your own wife, Kitty, and you’re going to lose her, too, if we don’t go to her now.”

  Something in the tone of Annie’s voice triggered Karl, “Oh, no you don’t, you bitch! There you go again tryin’ ta get away. It’s all your fault. I would have gotten away with the perfect crime if you hadn’t gone and opened that drawer. Then you wouldn’t let it go—had to keep diggin’ and diggin’ inta my business. No, Bitch, you’re goin’ pay.”

  Annie closed her eyes and sent up a sentence prayer: Lord, I can’t reason with Karl. He’s blaming me for his troubles. Please help me, Lord, and help Karl, too. Amen. When she opened her eyes, Karl was drinking again.

  Without her asking, he rambled on, “After all the money I made for this park. After all the hours I spent working Bingo, I deserved a little treat. I didn’t help myself to near what I should have taken. I made thousands of dollars for this two-bit retirement park.”

  Annie let his confession pass without commenting. Instead, she asked, “Who thought of hiding her body in the drawer?”

  “I couldn’t think at first. I was so surprised at her dying. Then we heard people talkin’ outside; we didn’t want anyone ta see her sprawled on the floor. We didn’t do any plannin’. Jiggs pulled the drawer out, and I lifted her in. Tried ta cover her with those boxes. Then you had ta come snopin’ ‘round.”

  “Karl, it was an accident, let’s call Sgt. Menendez. She’ll help you. Don’t make it any worse.”

  Karl began working to loosen the cut end on the roll of duct tape. Annie pleaded, “Don’t, Karl. Please don’t put that on me. Don’t hurt me. You need to take care of Kitty. Let’s go to Kitty—take her to the hospital.”

  He slapped Annie across the mouth; she fought back, but she was no match for his strength. He pushed her down onto the one wooden office chair in the room. Then he taped her hands together behind the chair before taping her ankles to the front legs of the straight chair.

  She tried again, “Karl, where will you go? You can’t hide forever. Don’t leave me here. Let’s go to Kitty. I’m a nurse. I can help her.”

  “You won’t be
helping anybody for a long time.” He smirked, then pulled his flask out and took another swig. After he stuffed it back in his hip pocket, he stuck the duct tape to her forehead. Working quickly, Karl unwound the tape from the roll and re-wound it around Annie’s head. He began at her forehead, then criss-crossed it behind her ears and wrapped it over her eyes. Around and around from a different angles until she was completely blinded.

  Annie worried: Is he going to go over my nose? Is he going to smother me with duct tape? Oh, Lord, please don’t let him kill me. I’ll be dead, but he’ll have pre-meditated murder charges to face. For Kitty’s sake and mine please control his hands. How much air will I have? How long before I die? Lord, if you want me, I’m ready to go with You, but if You aren’t in a hurry, I’d really like to see my Art again. It’s in Your hands, Lord. Amen.

  As she finished her sentence prayer she realized that she could breathe normally; he hadn’t covered her nostrils, but her mouth was taped shut. I can’t call for help, but thank-you, Lord, I can still talk to You, and I can breathe. Thank You for keeping Karl from smothering me. Don’t let me give up. Art will find me. I’ll keep saying that verse from James. I will persevere. I will persevere. Amen.

  She sensed when he stepped away from her. Then she jerked involuntarily when she felt liquid thrown on her hair, face, and blouse. Liquor. I’ll reek of it. If anyone ever finds me—no, make that—when they find me, they’ll think I’m drunk. She heard a click. That must have been the light switch. But it doesn’t make any difference to me. He’s got the tape on so well; it doesn’t let in any light.