Bubba and the Dead Woman (16 page)

Bubba let out his own belly laugh. Mike continued to look at him curiously. “What’s the matter with you, Bubba? What’s so funny?”

Bubba waved at Mike with one hand, and went to sit on the tiny bunk in the corner. Here he was, inclined to put Neal Ledbetter on his list of suspects, simply because he wanted to buy out Miz Demetrice so bad, and the man was off at the Red Door Inn, playing in baby’s diapers with Doris Cambliss’ girls. He laughed again. Wait until he told his mother that. He couldn’t wait until he saw the reaction on her face. It would be something like her watching the Jerry Springer show for the first time. He could hear her words in his head, “Good God, what is wrong with that man? He’s a grown man, wearing diapers. How could a grown man wear diapers? Is he mentally deficient or something? Good God, what is wrong with him?”

But on the other hand, Doris had just delivered something to Bubba that would get Neal off their backs. His mother was not going to sell the land, and Neal needed to get used to the idea. She didn’t care if her neighbors were pissed, or the town got up in arms over the whole misadventure. And if the truth were told, the town folk would be more upset if they lost their Thursday night Pokerama than missed out on getting a Wal-Mart Supercenter. At least, most of the women would be, and that counted for a great deal in Pegramville.

It’s too bad
, thought Bubba ruefully. Neal would have made a fine murder suspect for him. He had the motive. He had the gall to carry it off. But then, he didn’t have the opportunity. He had been busy. Bubba sniggered again.

Bubba spent the night at the jail, before Miz Demetrice was able to round up Lawyer Petrie, who argued before the Honorable Judge Stenson Posey on the issue of playing fast and loose with evidentiary rules. Judge Posey was the only judge who lived and worked in Pegram County and knew everyone very well indeed. Sheriff John got into the argument, and Miz Demetrice was so disposed as to do a bit of her own yelling. Then the bailiff had to prevent Miz Demetrice from shaking a fist in the judge’s face. Bubba watched the whole affair with a bemused expression on his face. When it was all said and done, Judge Posey was inclined to let Bubba out on bail. His Honor said to Sheriff John, “You got a lot of jack.”

Sheriff John considered the esteemed man on the bench, who was wearing a black robe and thoughtfully stroking his white beard. Sheriff John said carefully, “No one else had any reason to kill that woman.”

Said Judge Posey, “Motive alone does not make a crime. Let me count what you have. Mister Snoddy passed the polygraph. Oh, you didn’t think I’d hear about that, huh? No one saw him driving from Bufford’s to the crime scene or vice versa at the time of the crime. He had a negative on his gunshot residue test, which might indicate he didn’t fire a weapon. There were no fingerprints on the weapon which was found, hidden
outside
of his house.”

Judge Posey leaned over his great desk, eyeing the sheriff with a sober, steely look. “If I were a prosecutor, which I am not, I might be so persuaded to answer a question like that. But as I am not, and you are the man who gathers the proof of wrongdoing, it is thusly, up to you to gather the evidence that might prove Bubba Snoddy guilty beyond a reasonable doubt in this court of law.” He smiled suddenly. “On a personal note, I believe you got plenty to indict the man, but there ain’t a jury of twelve around here gonna convict him. Just a little personal note, there.”

Sheriff John glared impotently at the judge.

Judge Posey looked away from Sheriff John and leveled his judicious gaze upon Bubba. “Say Bubba, I ain’t seen you in here since, oh, let me think.” He rubbed his beard. “Was it when that feller from California mistook you for a Dallas Cowboy? Or was it when you had a haul a load of those trespassers from you all’s lands?”

“Trespassers,” Bubba answered shortly.

Judge Posey laughed. “I recollect that ever since that article came out in People magazine, ain’t been a week gone by, that some idjit goes out to the Snoddy Mansion to dig a hole.” He chuckled again. “You should have put up those signs. ‘Trespassers will be eaten. Survivors will be prosecuted.’ Watch out for that killer Basset Hound of yours. That might do the trick.”

Bubba muttered, “I’ll give it some thought, your honor.” He didn’t even want to think about the throngs of people who had wandered out to Snoddy properties to see what they could see. All because of that old addle-pated ancestor of his, Colonel Snoddy, a man who had come back from the War of Northern Aggression with a wagon full of…

Bubba bit his lip. To hell with that train of thought. So he folded his arms over his chest and waited for the bond to be written for him. When he got all of his possessions back from Tee, he was holding that big, green button in his hand, wondering where it had come from, and why it looked strangely familiar.

Chapter Eleven - Bubba Narrows Down the Suspects Some More –

Thursday

As it also turned out, Doris Cambliss did spend the night in the Pegram County Sheriff’s Department Jail, several cells right down from Bubba Snoddy. Since Bubba was incarcerated first, he got to go up before His Honor, the venerated Judge Stenson Posey, before she did. Bubba was waiting on paperwork to be completed and his mother to sign over what Sheriff John Headrick called a wretchedly and obscenely low amount bail of $25,000 and a slap in the face of law enforcement from the judicial system. While that was happening, Bubba watched as Doris appeared before Judge Posey.

Although it was a tiny court, it seemed as though most of the town had managed to cram themselves inside the room. The church-like pews were so jam-packed full that skinnier individuals stuck between larger ones appeared as though they would pop up like cheap champagne corks. Wiser folks stood in the back and craned their necks to see the impending fireworks.

Some of the people had come to visit Bubba’s evidential hearing, to include his own mother, Miz Demetrice Snoddy, and her avid clan of poker-crazy grandmothers. Mary Jean Holmgreen was there, and she waved at Bubba when he accidentally caught her eye. Much to his dismay. Other poker aficionados included the sisters, Alice and Ruby Mercer, and Wilma Rabsitt, a woman who Miz Demetrice was convinced cheated on a regular basis. And even the gorgeous Deputy Willodean Gray was present. Willodean, noted Bubba with some disheartenment that he didn’t care to put a name to, was sitting next to Lurlene Grady, who also waved happily at Bubba.

Miz Demetrice’s been busy with the telephones of late
, decided Bubba. He smiled at his mother, trying to decide whether to be annoyed or amused.

Also there for Bubba’s hearing was Major Michael Dearman, dressed in all of his military flair, and accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Connor. The Connors seemed a little lost throughout the entire event. Dearman paused to glare at Bubba before he led his in-laws, who continued to look confused, out the court room doors.

Then there was a smattering of those who were there for the indictment against the notorious Doris Cambliss and her Red Door Inn. There was general interest, like Sheriff John Headrick, and Deputy Steve Simms. There was personal interest, from Lloyd Goshorn, the around town handyman, from Neal Ledbetter, sans any kind of infant apparel, and Roy Chance from the Pegram Herald, scribbling on a note pad as if to save his life.

There were quite a few other people wandering in and out of the court room. It was a regular circus. Or an insane asylum. It really depended on how one looked at it.

His Honor, Judge Posey, dismissed the case of Doris Cambliss almost immediately. Not only had the local police officers failed to find any type of evidence that would indicate that she was running a brothel, but they didn’t have enough evidence to keep her in jail for even twenty minutes. In his soft, gentile, southern voice, Judge Posey apologized to Doris, even while he knew full well, that she was quite guilty of the crimes of which she had been accused. In the south, there was a gentle tradition of it’s only a crime if you get caught doing it. Sometimes it was known as the Eleventh Amendment.
Thou shall not get caught.
As the devious and cunning Doris had not only been
not
caught, she had gotten one over on the local law enforcement.

Then her own lawyer served the local police chief of Pegramville, Sheriff John, and the prosecuting attorney with a $2.3 million dollar lawsuit, citing wrongful arrest, police discrimination, and the predacious calumniating of Doris’s general character. Otherwise, the lawyer was saying that the two individuals had besmirched her good name.

Sheriff John looked at the papers with shock and exclaimed, “Just why in the name of God are you suing me?”

Bubba wondered how they had come up with a figure of $2.3 million dollars.

Doris’s attorney replied in a smooth, smarmy tone of voice, ever ready to instruct law enforcement on legal machinations. “She was in your jail, was she not?”

Sheriff John said with feeling, “Goddamnit.”

Judge Posey said, “Now, Sheriff, there are women and well, no children, but there are women present. I don’t care for that kind of talk in my court room.”

Sheriff John, who had an annual budget of about $1.5 million dollars, and had a vivid and depressing visual image of said monies being flushed down a toilet, said, “$#@*&%!!” Then he added for good measure, “Bleep. Bleepity. Bleeping Bleep.”

“Sheriff, get out of my court room before I cite you for contempt,” Judge Posey, his voice no longer so soft and southern. He smiled at Doris. “Sorry about that, Ma’am.”

Doris smiled back. She knew that she would have to drop the lawsuit, or she wouldn’t get any protection from the law enforcement around Pegramville. But she didn’t mind seeking some well-deserved revenge in the form of ulcers and sleepless nights for the next few weeks to come. She waved at Judge Posey, who visited the Red Door Inn on Sundays, after church, whilst his wife was attending a weekly church board meeting.

About a half hour after that, most of the people had cleared out. Lawyer Petrie was long gone, seeing no more viable work or monies that could be squeezed out the Snoddys. Bubba walked out with his mother, his Stetson firmly on his head, and the strangely familiar green button in one of his pockets. He pulled it out to look at it, puzzling over why it was bothering him. Lurlene was hanging on his other arm, talking animatedly. “I knew they didn’t have anything on you, Bubba. It’s so nice to see justice do just the right thing. How do you think I look in this yellow dress? I think it washes out my skin. Did you hear that the library got broken into? Someone was messing with all of the old papers in the back room. All of the Civil War stuff. I suppose some of them papers are valuable, but they must smell awfully bad.”

Miz Demetrice was talking at the same time. “Thank God for small favors. Lawyer Petrie warned you, didn’t he? Bubba, did you get any sleep? Did you talk with that Cambliss woman? Did you know that Elgin Snoddy used to go there when it was her mother running the place? He used to say he was going to an Elks meeting, but since when do they have Elks around here? Honestly, boy, you don’t say much.”

Bubba finally showed the button to his mother and asked, “You recognize this?”

Miz Demetrice shrugged. “It’s just a button.”

Lurlene clamped her mouth shut, annoyed that Bubba wasn’t dancing attendance on her. She looked at the button, and still said nothing.

Bubba looked around, and then excused himself from the two women. Both women stared at his back as he walked over to Deputy Willodean Gray. She stood just outside the county courthouse steps, waiting for someone. She said to him, “I don’t have anything on that equipment, Bubba.”

“How about the fingerprints on the window sills?” he asked, entranced by her lovely face. Black hair the color of jet. Green eyes carved out of turquoise. Lips that begged to be kissed. He sighed inwardly, certain that he had just felt the sweetly stinging impact of one Cupid’s arrows to his backside.

“One was Miz Adelia’s. Another’s was your mother’s. Did you know that she was arrested at San Francisco for picketing Gerald Ford in 1975? Never mind. There were some unidentified ones, but we’ll need a body to go with them.” She bit her lip, and Bubba stared, fascinated. She clarified, “A live body, not a dead body. Listen, Bubba, I got to go.”

Bubba nodded. “I need that intruder. I need him, real bad.”

“I know, Bubba,” she said, looked around him, caught sight of something she didn’t like, and took a step back from him. Bubba looked back and saw Deputy Steve Simms talking with the District Attorney. Neither one of them saw Bubba talking with Willodean. She added, “I’m glad for you, though.”

She turned and walked quickly away. Bubba looked back at his mother and Lurlene, and found both of them watching him in turn, enthralled by the whole event. He strolled back to them, pasted a smile across his face that erased about five years of stress, and asked, “Shall we go to lunch, ladies?”

During the course of lunch at the Old Gray Goose Inn, which specialized in chicken-fried anything the size of a large dinner plate, Bubba found out that the Connors would share nothing with Miz Demetrice. She was the mother of the devil, as far as they were concerned, and for all they cared, he could fry in the electric chair.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell them that Texas executes by lethal injection,” Miz Demetrice said sadly.