“And the tree is standing in water?”
“Hence the cherry picker.” Jesse walked as she talked, moving back down the levee until she was opposite the tree and closer to what she hadn’t really wanted to take a good look at earlier. “Just a minute,” she said into the phone. “I want to get a better look at something.”
Coming to a stop just behind Winnie, she stared up toward the man in the tree. The other woman sat unmoving, still looking in the same direction.
The poor guy had been through a lot. Wind, rain, flying through the air, slamming into a tree, and who knew what else. But amid the bits and pieces of debris, the dabs of mud and maybe blood, and the small rips and tears, there was one very odd, perfectly round, dark spot that looked almost neat compared to everything else. Maybe an inch above his brow, it was stark against his colorless skin, and it didn’t look like anything else did.
“Winnie, have you noticed that thing on his forehead?”
“You mean that bullet hole? Yeah, I’ve been looking at that for awhile now.”
Chapter Seven
Inexplicably, Winnie began to cry again. Recalling her own unaccountable breakdown only minutes earlier, Jesse felt a stirring of empathy. This had been a wildly difficult day, and it wasn’t even noon yet.
Knowing that her normally stalwart friend would rather be left alone than to be fussed over, and fairly certain that the waiting sheriff was reaching the limits of his patience, Jesse turned and walked a few feet away again. “Uh, there may be another problem here,” she said quietly into the phone once she had reached a safe whispering distance.
“I heard the crying start up again. What’s going on now?”
“I’m thinking you might want to bring the medical examiner when you come.”
“He’s on his way, along with a utility truck with a cherry picker, and a tow truck, and a couple of deputies just in case. So, what’s this new problem?”
He didn’t sound happy at the prospect of complications over and above what she’d already described. Of course, she could have just kept her mouth shut and let him find out on his own.
“Jesse?” he said impatiently. “What?”
“There’s a small, dark spot that’s almost a perfect circle smack dab in the middle of his forehead,” she said, managing to avoid the words “bullet” and “hole” quite nicely, she thought.
“He’s shot?!” The voice on the other end of the conversation went straight past excited and didn’t stop until it got to shouting. “He got sucked up into a tornado, carried God knows how far, tossed back out into a tree, where—oh, by the way—he was impaled. And he actually died of a gunshot?!”
“That’s for the medical examiner to determine,” Jesse said in a tone as cool as his was hot. “And excuse me for calling you when there appears to be a questionable death. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” The last few words sounded more whiney than frosty, and she was afraid she might be too tired to sustain a good argument, even one with Sheriff Joe Tyler.
“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” he asked, his storm of irritation apparently past.
“No. Winnie’s crying right now, and I have an unwritten rule that I can’t cry if someone else is already doing it.”
“Why is she crying?”
“I haven’t asked her. But since I did it myself, for no reason I could determine, and I never, ever cry, I thought maybe I should just leave it alone and let her do what she needs to do.”
“Yeah, I see your point. I guess if it turns out to be something I need to know, you’ll tell me.”
“Are you coming out here later? Wait… Oh, yah! It’s the tow truck!” Holding the phone away from her, Jesse called, “Winnie, look! The tow truck’s here.”
Winnie ran a hand over her wet cheeks, took a deep, quivering breath and stood. “Guess I’d better go oversee this operation.” With a sniff, she turned her red eyes to Jesse. “Think I could use your phone again in a few minutes? I completely forgot to call my insurance agent, and I need to get a hold of my mechanic and let him know to expect this thing.”
“Mechanic? You think it can be fixed?” Jesse asked in amazement. The entire cab was in ruins.
Winnie shrugged. “Engine’s fine. Truck bed’s fine. New door, new seat, and it should be good to go.”
“Wow.” Once again, Jesse paused to appreciate the beauty of well-maintained old things. They didn’t have to be perfect. They didn’t even need to be pretty. They just had to perform, and Winnie obviously wasn’t ready to give up hope.
“Thank Sheriff Tyler for me,” Winnie said as she turned and began her slow walk back down the levee to where a large tow truck with a hydraulic lift was pulled up to the back of her sadly battered pickup.
Jesse put the phone to her ear again. “Winnie says thanks.”
“Tell her she’s welcome. And, I don’t think I’ll make it out there if I don’t have to. There’re spots of damage all over the county, and I’m probably going to be tied up here coordinating manpower for most of the day. Marla’s got a camera with her, and Todd’s got some kind of computer and video combination I don’t even try to understand, and Arnie knows his business, so I don’t think my physical presence is needed for the moment.”
“After everybody gets here, we don’t really have to hang around, do we?” Jesse was beginning to feel almost as hungry as she was tired, and the idea of going home, grabbing a bite to eat and relaxing in a hot bath was seriously appealing.
“They’ll take your statements, maybe ask a few questions, and you two can leave. Do you have a way home?”
“I can call somebody.”
“I’ll do that for you since I have a lot better idea of where you are than you do. You have any preference as to who I call?”
Jesse tried to work up the energy to care, but it just wasn’t happening. “So long as they can make it here and back without getting lost, it really doesn’t matter. But maybe it shouldn’t be my mom. I get my directional skills from her.”
Her comment was greeted by a quick bark of laughter. Then he was serious again. “Jesse?”
“Yes?” she responded, growing instantly wary. That tone of voice usually meant she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
“Since this is starting to look like there might be foul play involved…”
“Might be?” she interrupted. “The man has a bullet hole between his eyes.”
“Since there might be foul play involved,” he repeated, not quite so nicely. “You don’t have even a fleeting thought in your head of maybe getting involved in this, do you?”
“Well, no. Why would I?” It was a silly question, and she didn’t even know why he had asked.
“That’s good. That’s the right answer.”
“I mean, I have no idea who this guy is,” she said, still confused. “And I don’t know anybody who would be even remotely involved. This is nothing like Bliss, and when…”
“Just stop right there,” Joe commanded. “You’re getting way off track, and I liked your first answer better. A simple ‘no’ is all I want to hear. No embellishments, just ‘no.’”
“I don’t poke my nose into murders for grins and giggles,” Jesse protested. “I thought you understood that. And it was just that one time.”
“Okay, sorry I asked. Let’s just drop it. You don’t know the guy. You’re not planning to get involved. Enough said.”
Still smarting, and wanting to go on defending herself even if she wasn’t sure what they were talking about, Jesse looked around for something to distract her and saw that Winnie’s pickup was loaded onto the bed of the tow truck and the driver was attaching chains to hold it immobile during the trip to the garage. “Winnie’s pickup is loaded, and she needs to make a few calls. I guess I should hang up now.”
“Okay. Stay out of trouble.”
“Boy, you’re just not going to let that go, are you? I’ve had husbands who nagged less.”
“Don’t be so damned defensive,�
� he snapped right back at her. “That’s not what I meant. But, while we’re on the subject, I could have arrested you half a dozen times on that last murder investigation. And I’m not going to be so lenient if it happens again.”
Jesse wished she could go on arguing, but she had to admit it had only gotten this far because she was tired, and hungry and maybe just a little irrational. It had been a trying day.
“It won’t happen again,” she promised. “That last time was an exception. I just couldn’t turn my back on my best friend when she needed a favor. Vivian is like family to me, and I didn’t have any choice but to help her. But this is nothing like that, and you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thank you, and you’re right. I shouldn’t have pushed. That other is water under the bridge, and I need to leave it the hell alone. So, we’re good?”
Relieved to have that flurry of tension over with, Jesse grinned. “Yeah, we’re good.” The two of them had gone from not being able to stand each other to a point of tolerance if not outright friendship, and she didn’t want to go backwards. “So, I’m hanging up now. You have a nice day, or what’s left of it, and thanks for all your help.”
“Just doing my job. Oh, and Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“Be nice to my deputies.”
“Always.” With that she hung up and went to join Winnie in watching the tow truck pull out of sight. As it paused before taking a wide turn onto the two-lane paved road, Jesse extended her phone to her unusually quiet companion. “It’s all yours.”
Winnie turned and wandered a few feet away. Tugging two business cards from her pocket, she shuffled one in front of the other and began to dial. Not really wanting to hear the conversations, Jesse walked past where the pickup had been parked. Avoiding the ruts left by the tow truck, she made her way down the slope to the narrow, dirt lane that connected the isolated levee to blacktopped civilization.
What had started as a girls’ day out at the fishing hole had turned into a mini-nightmare, and she was having trouble remembering her brief euphoria at simply being alive. But before she could descend into a wallow of reflection and self-pity, rescue appeared in the form of a county sheriff’s car. From out of nowhere, it made a smooth turn off the pavement and came bouncing toward her down the aforementioned, rutted, muddy road where she stood waiting.
Jesse reminded herself sternly of the tragic reason for the deputies’ presence and suppressed her secret glee at their arrival. With forced somberness, she watched them park in a wide spot in the packed earth and exit, Deputy Marla Murphy first, with a camera dangling from her neck and a steno-sized notepad in her hand. Deputy Todd she-couldn’t-remember-his-last-name reached into the back seat and retrieved a black carrying case hefty enough to need a shoulder strap.
As the two deputies met at the front of the car and began a slow march toward Jesse, she glanced over her shoulder and saw that Winnie still had her back turned, talking intently into the phone. Leaving Winnie to her privacy, Jesse gave a wave of greeting to the newcomers and moved further down the lane to intercept them.
“Hello, Deputy Murphy. Deputy… sorry,” she greeted with a shrug and a grimace when she reached them. “I don’t know if Todd is your first name or your last name.”
“Where’s the body?” Marla Murphy asked in response.
“Uh, follow me.” Before Jesse could turn, Deputy Todd Whatever reached out a hand in greeting.
“Angeles,” he said. “Todd Angeles. And you’re Jesse Camden?”
“Yes, nice to meet you.” He had a good handshake. Firm, but not too firm, with a clean, Midwestern face, eyes the color of coffee beans and hair resembling a closely clipped wheat tassel.
“Let me just get my equipment going before we take off.” He dropped to one knee and began to pull complicated-looking black objects from the bag he carried.
“He’s our resident techno whiz,” Marla explained, seeming to relax just a bit. Then she whipped open her notebook and pulled a pen from her shirt pocket. “Your name is actually Jesselyn, am I correct? J-e-s-s, what’s the rest of it?”
“e-l-y-n,” Jesse dutifully supplied, realizing that the official part had begun and anything else she said was on the record.
“And your friend’s name?”
They both looked toward where Winnie appeared to be finishing one conversation and proceeding to the next one. She looked tense and unhappy.
“This day’s been kind of hard on her,” Jesse explained. “Her truck was practically destroyed, and every time she looks at that poor guy in the tree she starts crying.”
“What’s her name?” the young, pretty and normally friendly Deputy Murphy repeated.
“Winnifryd Rogers.” As the other woman’s mouth opened, Jesse continued, “W-i-n-n-i-f-r-y-d.” She spoke slowly, not wanting to have to repeat it. “She generally goes by Winnie.”
“So you guys got caught in a tornado, huh?” Todd Angeles asked. He rose from his crouch with what looked like a digital version of a video cam dangling from his neck, and the black case slung over his shoulder.
“Well, it went by overhead, but still scary as hell, and there was a lot of, um…” Jesse paused, searching for a word to describe the objects flung like missiles from the tornado’s vortex. Damage, debris, fallout were all accurate, but none seemed an appropriate description for the man they had come to see.
“Does your friend realize that her truck is going to the police impound until the boat parts inside can be removed and examined?” Marla asked with a kindliness that had been missing until that moment.
“I don’t think so, unless maybe the tow truck driver told her.”
“So, what’s left here?” Todd asked. “The boat and the man?” He adjusted the gear around his neck and scanned the area. “Which way?”
“Down this way.” Jesse turned and began the trek back up the embankment and down toward the end with the fishing boat on one side and the body on the other.
Winnie joined them when they reached the top of the levee, nodding to the deputies before falling into step next to Jesse. “The tow truck driver said they’re impounding my pickup as evidence,” Winnie whispered in a voice too loud to be effectively private. “My insurance agent’s going to go over to take a look and make arrangements to get it fixed when they release it.”
“Are you okay?” Jesse whispered back in what she hoped was actually a whisper.
Winnie gave her head a quick, negative shake and glanced over her shoulder at the deputies bringing up the rear. “I’ve got something to tell you when we get a chance,” she hissed in an undertone that was barely audible even to Jesse.
“What?”
“Not now.”
If there was anything Jesse hated, it was a mystery, but she realized that this was not the time to be exchanging whispered secrets, not with some high-tech gizmo and two curious deputies on their heels. “Don’t forget,” she cautioned.
“Oh, trust me, I won’t.”
Putting her burning curiosity aside, Jesse pointed to the lake on her left for the benefit of the officers following them. “The boat’s there.”
She kept moving while the two behind her slowed for a better look at the boat dug into the side of the hill. A few yards further on, Jesse drew even with the scene of the accident to her right. Turning slowly, almost wishing the tree could magically be empty of its burden, she looked up and saw him still there, still staring into the distance with sightless eyes.
Moving shoulder to shoulder with her, Winnie hissed, “I know him!”
“You what?” Jesse asked, glancing frantically behind them toward the deputies who were now moving in their direction again.
“I know him.” Winnie’s red eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled. “Tha’s rolly,” she whimpered, emotion garbling her words.
“What?” Jesse leaned closer. “Is that a name? I can’t understand you.” Her low whisper grew urgent. “Pull yourself together, Winnie. They’re almost here.”
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“Roy Lee,” Winnie said, drawing each, slow word from her gut. “That’s Roy Lee.”
“What?” Deputy Murphy asked, close enough to overhear some of what was said.
Jesse lifted a stunned gaze to the new arrivals. “What?” she echoed.
Winnie sank to her knees and began to sob.
“Who’s Rawley?” The young deputy demanded, looking perplexed but determined.
Deputy Angeles panned in with the video equipment, then continued walking past the cluster of women to the far side of Jesse, and open ground. There he scanned upward, recording from the base of the thorn tree to the middle where the deceased waited patiently to be rescued.
“Ho-ly,” he said in a hushed voice. “Did you get a look at this?”
“No,” Marla snapped, then repeated impatiently, “who is Rawley?”
Jesse looked down to where Winnie was curled forward, arms braced on her thighs, face buried in her palms, wailing like a professional mourner at a funeral. Then Jesse lifted her gaze to the stern face of the nice young deputy who would appear at the moment to smell blood in the water.
“Roy Lee?” Jesse asked, not at all sure of what she was saying or if she should even be saying it. “Roy Lee Rogers, I believe. Maybe? I’m not sure. I’ve never met him myself, but she…” Jesse indicated the whimpering puddle of humanity at her feet. “…seems to think that’s her ex-husband up there.”
Chapter Eight
Deputy Murphy snapped to attention, pen and notebook poised. “And how long have you two been together this morning?”
“Since about daybreak. I drove to her house. Then we got into her truck and came here.” Jesse had the uncomfortable feeling that she had just provided Winnie with an alibi, which reminded her… “But we had talked earlier. I called her as soon as I woke up.”
“Cell phone or land line?” Mouth stern, eyes narrowed, Marla Murphy paused in her note taking while she waited for Jesse’s response.
“My cell phone. Her land line.”
Murder Most Thorny (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 2) Page 5