Doggone Dead (4 page)

Behind me a woman stood with her left shoulder slightly stooped from an oversized red leather purse. Was she planning to secretly pop a watermelon in that thing? Had she already? Next to her was a small girl decked out in a pink satin dress with black sequined seeds sewn to the bodice and a green taffeta ruffle. Although her head moved as she took a pose, her hair frozen in a massive heap of Final Net hair spray did not.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” the woman said. “I’m Amanda Harris, and Haley and I were just out getting some glamour shots for the pageant.”

Another pageant parent. Funny how I kept running into them.

“Yes, it is quite a surprise,” I replied.

“This is just wonderful. As long as we have you here, let me get your opinion on the talent Haley will be performing at the Miss Watermelon Pageant.” The woman leaned down and whispered in her daughter’s ear. The little girl broke her pose and then cleared her throat. She smiled, showing a row of fake teeth fitted over her own childhood toothy gaps.

“And now a number from old Broadway,” she lisped – and then proceeded to belt out “Thummertime” from Porgy and Bess. She was heading into the second verse when I stopped her.

“Uh ... Haley. That is just wonderful, and I’m sure it will be great for the pageant.”

“You think so?” said her mother. “We were wondering if maybe we needed to put some dance moves in, you know like this?” She put her bag down on the ground and began to do some jazz hands, stepping side to side.

“I really couldn’t say,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something great. So sorry, I didn’t realize what time it is. Have to get going. So nice to meet you.”

“Nice meeting you and getting this special time together.”

“Yes, well I’m actually out here taking pictures for the paper for a spread we’re doing on the watermelon festival, so I’d better get back to work.”

“Pictures?” She pushed her little girl in front of her, the red purse now a backdrop for precious Haley. “Well, then take one of my Haley so that the people in the town know we’re out here supporting the local watermelon economy.”

“Oh, no need for that. I think I’m just supposed to take pictures of the grounds and a few of the watermelons.”

“You want to promote the pageant as well as the festival, now don’t you? This is the perfect way to do it.” Her voice lowered slightly, “Take the picture.”

Feeling a little intimidated by her tone I raised my camera, “Cheese, Haley.”

“No, no, no. You can’t take her picture standing in front of me.” She looked around and spied one of the two sheds. “Over there against that nice white background.” She tugged both me and her daughter to the white shed twenty feet over from where we were standing.

She posed her daughter up against the shed leaning slightly to the side with one toe pointed. The little girl turned on a fabricated smile, and I snapped her picture.”

“Great, I got it.” I hoped she didn’t ask to see it on the camera as I also got part of the other shed and my dad in the picture.

“Wonderful, I can’t wait to see it in the paper. Where can I get extra copies?”

“Well, there’s no guarantee which picture my editor will pick for the article.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, he’ll pick her. Oh, and could you email me a copy of the picture as well? I would love to add it to her portfolio, you know.” She rummaged through her red bag, pulling out a small business card that read, “Amanda Harris, Manager/Publicist/Parent of Haley Harris.”

“Sure.” I took the card and quickly put the camera back in my bag before she plopped her daughter somewhere else for a picture.

“Back off, cop!” I heard shouted from the other side of the shed. “This part is not open to the public,” Coop Bonnet said.

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s none of your damn business, that’s why.” Lina and Clay Bonnet came running from the fruit stand.

“Lieutenant Kelsey, I think your field trip is now officially over.”

“Whatever happened to that good old farm folk hospitality?”

“You gotta be kidding me with that good ol’ boy grin. You’re just looking for some reason to take me in,” Coop sneered.

“That’s enough, Coop.” His father interrupted the ranting of his red-faced son. “Be on your way, Lieutenant Kelsey.”

“Certainly, but just know the next time I come back I’ll be bringing a search warrant with me.” My father leaned down next to the car and picked up something that was hanging out of the door. “Oh my,” he said. “Look what I’ve found here in plain sight.” My father opened the door and pulled a small baggie that looked like it was full of some sort of moss, but it wasn’t moss. There was also a piece of light blue plastic in the bag that looked like it had been torn off of something.

“Coop, I’m going to have to bring you in for possession.”

“It’s medical marijuana. I have allergies.”

“That's too bad seeing as we don't allow marijuana for medical reasons in Texas.” Coop looked down and shifted his feet.

Clay Bonnet stepped between them. “This is ridiculous. I’ll have a lawyer on your ass before you can pull out of the driveway.”

“I’m sure you will,” my dad answered. He pulled out his cuffs and put them on Coop Bonnet and led him back to his cruiser.

Clay Bonnet took off his ball cap and pushed the sweat out of his eyes. “Don’t worry, son. We’ll have you out in time for supper.”

Reasoning that my Aunt Maggie would want to know what just went down at the Bonnet farm, I made a quick stop at her house before picking up Zach.

Maggie was stooped over a flowerbed pulling weeds. She wore a floppy straw hat, and when she straightened up to greet me her face was a deep red.

“Aunt Maggie, it’s too hot for you to be out here weeding. Let’s go inside.”

“You’re right, but these weeds have been bothering me for days. I just had to get out here and give ’em a yank. Glad you’re here. Time for a break. I have some fresh-made lemonade in the refrigerator. Some of my lemons were ripe.” Aunt Maggie pulled off her hat and placed it on a peg by the door. I followed her to the kitchen, walking by a wall of pictures that encompassed Danny’s life so far. In one picture he was six catching a fish with his dad, in another he was getting a medal in the Special Olympics.

“Here we go, Betsy.” Maggie placed a glass of lemonade on the kitchen table. “What brings you by?”

I pulled out a chair as she poured her own glass and ran her wrist across her perspiring forehead.

“It’s a couple of things. One concerns your brother, and one concerns your son.”

Maggie pulled a chair up to the table. “Oh, my word. Well, let’s start with Danny.”

I nodded. “We had an interesting conversation at Dr. Springer’s office yesterday.”

“Go ahead.” Maggie raised the glass to her lips.

“He told me he’s in love.”

Maggie put the glass down. “He already told me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll just let nature takes its course.”

“What if he gets hurt?”

“I know. I know it’s a problem. But how can I tell him he can’t have a crush on her? How do you think he would react to that?”

She was right. The minute you told Danny he couldn’t have something, he had a hard time understanding. Allison was just a lovely young girl with a good heart. My cousin misunderstood her kindness as romantic affection. Even with Down Syndrome, Danny was a young man with all the same hormones as other young men his age.

“When did he tell you?” I asked.

“Oh, a few days ago, I guess.”

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend from his class?”

“Yes, and as far as I know they’re still an item.”

“Grass is always greener.”

“I guess. So how was your trip to the farm?”

“Funny you should mention that. It brings me to the second reason I came by,” I answered.

“What happened?”

“Dad happened. He was snooping around while I was there.”

“Snooping?”

“He was suspicious of Coop Bonnet and his little red Corvette. He was being so nosy they were about to kick him out. He said he would come back with a search warrant.”

“He didn’t already have one?”

“Guess not.”

“Doesn’t he watch Law and Order?” Maggie scoffed. “That Bonnet guy and his son. What rednecks.”

“Yeah, well, he’s threatening to sue now, and I was starting to like Lina. She seemed really nice. Then, Officer Judd all of a sudden found a bag of pot when he was leaning over looking at the Corvette. That was enough to arrest Coop. Not my favorite way to get a story for the newspaper.”

“You’re right. You’d think my brother could do his drug busts at a more convenient time.”

“You think? On top of everything else, I’m being stalked by these pageant parents. A mom from the pageant showed up and had her daughter start performing a Broadway number for me. What would happen if the other parents found out that this little girl finagled extra time with the judge? I’m beginning to think I never should have volunteered for this thing.”

“You volunteered?”

“Good point. No I didn’t, but now I’m knee-deep in watermelons and little girls.”

“And their mamas.”

“Right.”

“A stage mother is the most over-focused, well-meaning, crown-pursuing animal out there, darlin’,” said my aunt, “and you just found yourself in their sights. You might want to stick to home until the pageant.”

“If I only could. We haven’t heard anything about Zach’s dog yet.”

“Oh dear. I hope the little fella didn’t get himself run over.”

I rolled my eyes. “I hope not too, but I have this one thing that’s been bothering me.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, and this is going to sound strange, but what if ... maybe ... that British guy at the Loper mansion lied to me?”

“Why would he lie to you?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t get it out of my head. I just keep hearing that little bark.”

“That’s crazy. Those people have plenty of money to buy their own dog.”

“Not if they don’t ever leave that house.”

Maggie tipped back her glass, getting the last drops of the cool, sweet drink. “So, what do you say we go and visit just to see if they’ve seen the dog? What could it hurt?”

What could it hurt? I knew she was right. Just a friendly little visit to see if maybe, just maybe, they stole our dog? Worked for me.

“Would you come with me?”

“Sure. I’d kinda like to see inside that fence, anyway. It could be a pretty hot topic down at Ruby’s.” She was referring to the gossip epicenter of Pecan Bayou, Ruby Green’s Best Little Hair House in Texas. More than one perm had gone too long and fried while Ruby was in the middle of one of her broadcasts. I always chose the basic cut, light on the latest news.

*****

Ten minutes later, Maggie and I stood before the ominous black box in front of the Loper house. “Place looks a little run down,” Maggie said as she fingered some peeling paint on the wrought iron.

I pushed the button on the box. “Hello? Is anyone there? This is Betsy Livingston again, and I was wondering if you had seen our little dog? … Hello?”

Maggie grasped the metal gate and pulled her head forward to see into the courtyard in front of the house. “Pretty cheesy statue of Charlie Loper.” Her eyes brightened as she chirped out an old tune, “It’s Charlie Loper, the best shot in the West.” Her voice was reminiscent of an old radio announcer. She broke into song again. “Giddy-up little cowboy, the sun’s going down. Giddy-up little cowboy, we’re goin’ to town.”

“Hello?” Still no answer. I decided to do my best Texas taxicab whistle. I pushed on the button and, putting my mouth near the speaker, produced a shrill whistling sound into the box.

I heard a slight scuffle and hoped to finally be face-to-face with the man in the box. From around the other side of the cowboy fountain, a tiny yip sounded out, then another. Butch’s little paws made a clicking sound as he came bounding up to the fence.

“Butch!” I exclaimed as the little dog tried to triple his own height in puppy leaps. “Butch! We found you at last!” I put my hands through the wrought-iron gate to pet him. He barked and bounced off my extended arms.

“Wow. I have to wonder if he’s been here all along.”

Aunt Maggie gasped. “I have to wonder what Butch just left all over your hands.”

“What?” I said, pulling my hands back in to examine them. I backed away from the fence. My hands and arms were covered in something brown and sticky that looked like blood. Butch continued to bark and jump on the other side. There were little paw prints of the stuff dotting the inset stones from the fence to where he came around the fountain. I went to the gate handle and jiggled it. It was still locked up tight.

“I’m thinkin’ somebody’s real hurt back there, Betsy. We have to get in somehow.”

She made it all sound so simple. I shrugged. “And how do you suppose we do that with the gate locked?”

“You’re young and have two legs a lot longer than mine. I’ll hoist you up.”

I put my foot in her hands as she boosted me over the wall. With Maggie’s low center of gravity she could only raise me a few feet off the ground, and I had to pull myself up to the top of the wall. I felt the skin under my shirt scraping on the uneven stone barrier that surrounded the house. I hoisted my leg over the wall and bounced down into an overgrown bush. More scratches. As I emerged from the shrubbery, Butch came over and jumped into my arms.

“Good boy, fella. Let’s see what all the mess is about,” I said to him, trying to forget the possible bodily fluid he was covered in. He craned his neck toward me and licked me on the cheek. Holding on to the puppy, I walked up to the faded ranch house and used my fist to bang on the door.

I thought I heard a muffled noise in the house and waited, but after twenty seconds or so heard nothing. If someone was in there, they were choosing not to come to the door.

“No answer,” I called as I turned back to Aunt Maggie still waiting at the fence. My eyes shifted from her to a crumpled form on the other side of the fountain. On the ground lay a man with silver hair matted with blood and whose right cheek was now mashed into the pavement. His black velvet bathrobe was partly saturated with blood that had run down to a pair of well-soled black house slippers, and there was a wide circle of blood plastering his white-and-gray striped pajamas to his chest. The heat of the Texas summer was beating down on him as the familiar buzz of flies reached my ears.