Death of a Country Fried Redneck

by Lee Hollis

  “I saw the pictures! Don’t tell me there isn’t a spark between you two! And I am just dying to meet him. So let me make a reservation somewhere nice, even though now that summer’s over, all the good restaurants are shut down. But I’ll find something that works, and then the four of us—you, me, Wade, and my idiot husband, who I promise won’t drone on about art or politics, because, well, let’s face it, he’s one of those bleeding hearts, and I assume since Wade is a country singer from a red state, he’s probably conservative like my beloved Lee Greenwood who sang that classic ‘Proud To Be an American’ song—”

  Hayley couldn’t believe Sabrina had said all that without taking a breath.

  “What do you say, Hayley?”

  “Um, sure, that sounds like a plan,” Hayley said, already panicking about committing Wade to a dinner with Sabrina and her husband.

  But Hayley still needed information.

  She could always call and cancel later.

  Sabrina squealed. “I’m so excited! Omigod, did I just quote the Pointer Sisters? I loved listening to them as a kid!”

  Hayley held the phone away from her ear to keep from going deaf.

  “Well, I better get back to work,” Sabrina sighed. “Duty calls. I hate when someone dies under suspicious circumstances on a Sunday. It ruins my entire weekend!”

  “Wait. Before you go, I know your professional ethics are uncompromised and you would never talk to me about anything before you complete your autopsy and consult with the police . . .”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Sabrina obviously didn’t care about ethics right now. She thought Hayley was her ticket to an intimate dining experience with country superstar Wade Springer.

  “Mickey Pritchett.”

  “Burned to a crisp.”

  “So the bus caught fire somehow and Mickey got trapped inside and burned to death?”

  “The bus caught fire and Mickey certainly was in it. But that’s not how he died,” Sabrina said matter-of-factly.

  “Then how?”

  “There’s a big hole in his chest. Somebody shot him.”

  Hayley nearly stopped breathing. “What?”

  “He was murdered.”

  Chapter 12

  After Hayley hung up with Sabrina, she resisted the urge to march into Sal’s office and give him the scoop of the year. She knew he was in there, happy to be in the office on a Sunday because his wife hadn’t yet come home from her mother’s. Mickey Pritchett’s death was about to be officially ruled a homicide. Sal would be able to get the jump on the Herald.

  But she just sat there at her desk, staring at the wall.

  She knew Darrell Rodick wouldn’t be the only shutterbug with a digital camera running around town now. Bar Harbor was about to be deluged with tabloid journalists, all out in search of the most sensational aspects of this story.

  A roadie on the Wade Springer tour shot dead and burned up inside a raging tour bus fire?

  This was a huge scandal.

  The reporters would eventually discover the bad blood between Wade and Mickey, and how Wade dumped Mickey from the tour on the night of his murder.

  And then they would ask why.

  Would it come out that Hayley had two run-ins with Mickey before he got shot?

  Had someone seen Wade defend Hayley from Mickey’s unwanted advances? Would she wind up a murder suspect again like she had been last year?

  She couldn’t possibly take the pressure of being in that kind of situation again.

  She just couldn’t.

  The office was quiet. Everyone was probably at Albert Meadow pushing and shoving each other out of the way to get a one-on-one interview with Sergio, who was undoubtedly spearheading the case.

  Hayley just started to type her next column.

  But it was difficult focusing on recipes when she expected the phone to ring at any moment, with someone asking her to report to the police station for a sit-down interview with the chief.

  And brother’s partner or not, Sergio wouldn’t hold back any punches when it came to interrogating her.

  The afternoon crawled by and the phone rang just once. It was an elderly woman worried about her missing cat and wanting to place an ad. Hayley jotted down the information and promised to have it in tomorrow’s paper.

  Finally, just before quitting time, Bruce arrived. His sleeves were rolled up, there were ash smudges on his face, probably from getting too close to the burned bus, and his hands were grimy with soot. He barely acknowledged Hayley as he plowed through the front office to his cubicle in the back.

  Hayley sat there for a few minutes. She heard him typing furiously on his computer. She couldn’t take the suspense.

  He was obviously writing a story.

  He had just come from the crime scene.

  It had to be related to Mickey Pritchett.

  She stood up and strolled into the back bullpen, pretending to be searching for a file, but casually stepping behind Bruce and trying to read what he was typing.

  Bruce sensed her presence immediately and spun around in his chair. “Can I help you?”

  “Just getting a file. What are you working on?”

  “Oh, nothing special, Hayley. Kind of a quiet day in town. Not much going on. What do you think I’m working on? Why else would I be working on a Sunday?”

  “You don’t have to be rude.”

  “I have a tight deadline.”

  “So you found out something?”

  Bruce turned back around to his computer and continued typing.

  Hayley craned her neck to see Bruce’s screen. He was typing the words, Wade Springer is without a doubt a person of interest.

  “Really? Sergio said that?”

  Bruce stopped typing and sighed. “No, Hayley, those are my words. Sergio’s not talking, but he’s scheduled a press conference for tomorrow.”

  “So what makes you think Wade is a person of interest?”

  “I got to Donnie.”

  Donnie was a local kid in his midtwenties, a hellion when he was younger, always in trouble with the law. But in a surprise turn of events, he grew up to become a cop. Hayley assumed all that time he spent in the local jail had made him fond of the police station, so it was a natural evolution for him to want to spend more time there as he got older. It was like a second home.

  Donnie was also a major gossip.

  And Bruce knew that.

  Which is why he became his drinking buddy.

  And drinking buddies talk about everything.

  “What did Donnie tell you?” Hayley asked, treading carefully.

  “Donnie said Wade’s alibi is pretty shaky. According to his interview with the chief, Wade claims he took his dog out for a walk last night and was gone from the hotel for about an hour.”

  “Delilah.”

  “What?”

  “Delilah’s the name of his dog.”

  “Not really pertinent to the story, Hayley.”

  “Sorry.”

  “The problem is, nobody saw him. He could’ve been anywhere. He could’ve been at Albert Meadow shooting a hole in Mickey Pritchett’s chest and setting fire to his own tour bus to try and cover up the crime,” Bruce said, a big grin on his face.

  “That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard, even from you, Bruce,” Hayley scoffed.

  “Most of the crew from the tour were at your brother’s bar in plain view doing shots and playing darts in front of a bunch of locals until closing time at one A.M.,” Bruce said. “Wade’s the only one who was unaccounted for.”

  “So you’re going to write that in your article?” Hayley asked, her stomach churning. “You’re going to suggest Wade left the hotel to go kill Mickey?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything,” Bruce said. “I just report the facts. And the fact is at this point Wade Springer is the only suspect.”

  Chapter 13

  When Hayley delivered Wade’s dinner that night, he was nowhere in sight. Billy Ray l
et her in the room.

  She went to work setting out a Cajun shrimp pasta dish with a field greens salad and fresh garlic roll. She popped open a bottle of merlot and poured a glass to let it breathe.

  Billy Ray explained that Wade was still at the police station talking to the chief, but he would be back shortly if she wanted to hang around.

  Hayley declined.

  It was getting late. And Gemma had texted her asking if she would mind picking her and Reid up at Reel Pizza Cinema where they were watching a movie and no doubt snuggling in the dark. Hayley was happy Gemma was so excited about this boy, but she was rather surprised they had progressed to a movie date so quickly.

  It was less than a week ago when she had accompanied her daughter to Reid’s coffeehouse concert and at that point they barely knew each other.

  Gemma and Reid were waiting for her when Hayley pulled her Subaru wagon into the cinema parking lot.

  She immediately noticed the two of them holding hands.

  Reid circled around the car and got in the back seat.

  Instead of sitting up front with her mother, Gemma jumped in the back with Reid. Hayley suddenly felt like a chauffeur, but bit her tongue.

  “How was the movie?” Hayley asked.

  “Boring.” Gemma shrugged, not anxious to offer a critique.

  “What’d you see?”

  “I don’t even remember the name of it,” Gemma said. “We stopped paying attention after the first ten minutes.”

  “Well, what were you doing?” Hayley asked, cringing as the words came out of her mouth.

  Of course, they were making out.

  Gemma burst forth in a fit of giggles. “Nothing!”

  Yes, definite confirmation they were making out.

  Hayley adjusted the rearview mirror in time to see Gemma resting her head on Reid’s shoulder.

  He was gently stroking her hair.

  When he noticed Hayley looking at them through the mirror, he quickly stopped.

  Hayley wasn’t sure what to think of this. They seemed to be getting much closer and were obviously very affectionate with one another.

  She felt guilty because she had been working so hard writing her columns and cooking for Wade that she had completely missed the signs that her daughter was getting quite serious with this boy.

  Or man.

  He was eighteen.

  God, eighteen.

  And Hayley knew very little about him.

  “Where am I dropping you off, Reid?” Hayley asked. “Where do you live?”

  “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind, could you let me off at Carrie Weston’s house?”

  Hayley raised an eyebrow.

  “We were over there hanging out with Carrie before the movie,” Gemma said. “But her father came home so we had to beat it and Reid left his guitar behind.”

  “I can walk home from there. I live close by,” Reid said.

  “Sure. No problem,” Hayley said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  Reid saw her looking again and flashed Hayley a wide smile.

  Perfect teeth.

  The kid sure was a looker.

  No wonder Gemma was all over him.

  Like mother, like daughter.

  The lights were all off at the Weston house when Hayley pulled up to the curb.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Hayley said.

  “Not a problem,” Reid said. “Carrie told me where they hide the key. I’ll be in and out in under a minute. Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Powell.”

  “Good night, Reid.”

  Reid reached over and gently pulled Gemma closer to him before planting a very deep kiss on her mouth.

  Gemma was noticeably swooning.

  Hayley watched them through the mirror and her mouth dropped open.

  This was not just a friendly kiss.

  This was a full-on face assault.

  She swore she saw tongues flying.

  And it made her supremely uncomfortable.

  Finally, Hayley cleared her throat and Reid got the message and released Gemma and pushed open the car door.

  “’Night,” he said, waving, and then slammed the door shut and ran across the lawn.

  She waited until Reid was at the front door reaching into a planter for the house key before she pulled away.

  Gemma all but flung herself against the back-seat window to stare at him longingly as they drove off down the street.

  “Gemma, Reid seems like a really nice boy, but I’m not sure you two should be spending so much time together . . .”

  “Mother, please, let’s not do this now, okay?”

  “Do what?”

  “Have this talk. Let me enjoy this one tiny island of happiness in a sea of depression,” Gemma said.

  “Since when are you depressed?”

  “I’m not. But I will be if you start limiting the time I’m allowed to spend with Reid. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “I’ve said those very same words, believe me, many times! But you’re very young and you need to be focused on your studies, because college isn’t that far off . . .”

  “I already know the speech, Mom. I’ve heard it all before.”

  “Then consider this a refresher course. I’m not saying I don’t want you to see him, I’m just saying it doesn’t have to be so intense. I don’t want your grades slipping because you’re spending all your free time with him.”

  “My grades are fine. You would be the first to know if I started slipping because my teachers would be e-mailing you constantly. And what’s so intense about going to a movie?”

  “Nothing. What was intense was that good-night kiss.”

  Gemma sunk down in her seat and giggled.

  She was still flying high from it.

  “So why do you hate him?” Gemma challenged.

  “I certainly do not hate him. I like him. He seems like a decent enough kid. From what I know. I just don’t want things moving too fast . . .”

  “We’re not having sex, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Gemma announced abruptly. “I’m not ready for that.”

  Hayley almost lost control of the car, she was so taken by surprise, but managed to keep on the right side of the road.

  “And the next sound you hear is your mother’s sigh of relief,” Hayley said, laughing.

  “Mom, look,” Gemma said, pointing to a house at the end of the street.

  It was dark.

  Nobody appeared to be home.

  But there was a Chrysler parked out front and the driver-side door was open.

  Hayley slowed down, and as the Subaru’s headlight washed over the vehicle, she spotted somebody crouched down, fiddling with something underneath the dashboard.

  “Mom, he’s hot-wiring the car!” Gemma shouted just as the car’s engine kicked on and the thief, who was wearing jeans and a orange sweat jacket with a hoodie that was hiding his face, hopped in the driver’s seat.

  He jerked his head around and saw the Subaru bearing down on him.

  It was too quick for Hayley to get a good look at his face.

  The thief hit the pedal to the metal and the Chrysler sped away into the night.

  Hayley found herself slamming her foot down on the Subaru’s accelerator and chasing after him.

  Gemma’s body jerked against the back seat, held down by the seat-belt strap.

  “Omigod! I can’t believe we’re chasing a car thief!” Gemma screamed. “Mom, slow down!”

  “I can’t! We’ll lose him!” Hayley yelled, jerking the wheel to the right and following the Chrysler on a back road toward the Kebo Valley Golf Course.

  Hayley felt for her cell phone in the cup holder of the Subaru and tossed it back to Gemma. “Call nine-one-one! Tell them we’re in a high-speed pursuit heading toward Eagle Lake Road and we need backup!”

  “But, Mom, we’re not cops!”

  The car thief was well ahead of Hayley’s Subaru and it looked like he was going to easily o
utrun them, when suddenly Hayley saw the brake lights flash on and heard the sound of squealing tires.

  The car took a sharp turn off the road onto the golf course and smashed into a tree.

  Hayley didn’t have a moment to realize what had happened to the Chrysler before her own headlights lit up a deer standing frozen in the middle of the road.

  Yes. Literally, a deer in the headlights.

  She slammed on the brakes and the tires locked and Gemma was screaming as Hayley kept her hands gripped on the wheel, keeping it steady as the Subaru screeched to a stop just inches from the deer. The deer just stared at them for a moment, and once it realized it wasn’t going to be roadkill, went prancing off into the woods.

  Hayley turned to Gemma. “Stay here.”

  Gemma nodded.

  There was no way she was going anywhere.

  Hayley got out of the Subaru and ran over to the Chrysler, which was smoking from the impact of hitting the tree. The front end was crunched up like an accordian.

  She saw someone moving in the driver’s seat and heard him moaning.

  “Are you okay?” Hayley asked.

  “I think I broke my arm,” the kid said.

  Hayley reached inside the window and snapped on the overhead light to get a better look at the car thief.

  Bruce had been right.

  The thief was Jesse DeSoto.

  Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell

  I don’t know why I’m in the mood for barbecue. I just can’t seem to get it off my mind this week! So I think I’ll be firing up the grill later, and making some delicious barbecue ribs! The best part of dining on ribs, of course, is the great side dish that goes with it—a good old homemade southern mac and cheese casserole! I have such a craving for it! It also goes great with my fried chicken recipe or even just as a meal all by itself.

  But before we get to the recipe, I have to tell you about my little adventure with Leroy.

  The other night I needed to clear my head after a long day of work and coming up with recipes for Wade Springer. I may have mentioned I’m his personal chef while he is staying in our town before his two sold-out concerts. But I’m never one to drop names or brag.

  Anyway, I decided to walk Leroy on the Jesup trail, a scenic path that cuts through the woods around the golf course near my house. We were about a mile into our stroll when we came around the bend and walked smack dab into a small herd of deer! Not surprising, really, since the island is overrun with them. They eat everything in our yards and gardens! Just this past year, they ate every one of my beloved hosta plants in the front yard!