Splintered Bones (41 page)

I realized that I was no longer wearing my jeans. Instead, my bandaged knees hung out of a backless hospital gown, which was a putrid pastel and did little to enhance my figure. I didn't want to ask Doc what had happened to my pants or my bra, or who had removed them. Sometimes details are best left unknown. I slipped to my feet and found I could stand and walk. All in all, things were improving rapidly.

Coleman came into the room with a grin as big as
Texas
. "You're looking more like yourself. Ready to go home?"

"Dorothy couldn't be any readier." I took his arm and he led me out into the Delta night. The cicadas were singing loud and vibrant in a stand of pines behind the hospital. The air was clean, with the tang of newly turned dirt from the fields all around us. Spring in the Delta is one of the very best times of year, and I took in a deep breath, glad to be alive.

"How's Krystal?" I asked.

"Not exactly a grieving widow. And that friend of yours, J.B. Washington, came out of his coma. He was trying to tell you that Mike was going to kill Krystal. He overheard him on the phone telling LaCoco about the insurance policy."

"Is J.B. going to be okay?"

"Right as rain. No permanent damage done, and I think his mama's flung a net over Doc Sawyer. I caught them out in the parking lot, staring at some pine trees like it was a majestic bit of scenery."

"That's great." I leaned a little heavier on his arm than I really needed to. It was just nice to have an arm to lean on. "Another few minutes and Krystal would have been dead."

"She knows that. She said to tell you that she's dedicating her first album to you." Coleman chuckled. "The irony here is that she'll finance that album with Mike's insurance policy. They had mutual policies--a million dollars each."

"That's what I'd call an ironic twist."

Coleman's laugh was easy as he firmly grasped my elbow and helped me to his car. "By the way, that was terrific detective work. When Cece followed that lead you gave her and discovered that Mitchell Raybon was really Mike Rich, she called me right away. I was afraid you were in trouble, so I headed straight out to Putnam Hall. As it happened, Tinkie had stopped by Dahlia House to take Sweetie home from Canine Curls, and she found Kinky on the front porch with your note. Lucky for you Tinkie likes to drive that Caddy about a hundred and five. Tinkie and Kinky got there in the nick of time."

"They sound like a bad vaudeville act." I stumbled on a rock, and Coleman's arm went around my waist. "Are you okay?"

"A little tired, but there are other things you need to know. Mike burned the barn."

"I know. Kip saw him. When LaCoco indicated he'd kill Avenger, Kip decided to ride him over to a friend's house and hide him out. She saw Mike in the loft and smelled the gasoline. By the time she got Bud, the barn was in flames, and they decided to stage a dramatic exit." He handed me into the car and then got behind the wheel.

"They did a good job. How is Nathaniel Walz tied up in this?"

"Through LaCoco. I call them the Buzzard Brigade. When Lee confessed to Kemper's death, LaCoco knew Swift Level was in jeopardy. If Lee went to prison, Swift Level would be sold. He called Walz in as the front man to buy the property. They planned on getting it for nothing and developing it as a fancy resort." Coleman eased the car out of the hospital parking lot and into the night.

"Where are Walz and LaCoco?"

"They left town. There was nothing I could actually charge them with, but I made it clear I'd keep looking until I found something. They decided to go where there was less scrutiny of their activities."

It was really over. I leaned back in the car seat. This was a much different ride from the last one I'd taken with Coleman. We were going a lot slower, and my hospital gown was a far cry from the beautiful red dress I'd worn.

"I had a mechanic pick up your car," Coleman said. "They'll repair the rag top for you."

"Thanks, Coleman. Thanks for everything."

He turned on the car radio, and I stared out the window at all of the familiar sights as Willie Nelson's "Stardust" played. The night sky over the dark fields was bejeweled with stars. The land was a part of me, deep inside, like blood and muscle. I'd traveled a good bit and seen beauty in many places, but none of it had the power to move me like the flat, fertile land of my home.

Coleman's voice in the easy comfort of the car was part of my homecoming. "Sarah Booth, you scared the life out of me. When I saw all of that blood ..."

He reached across the seat and took my good hand. Holding it lightly, he squeezed my fingers just as we turned down the drive to my home.

Dahlia House was ablaze with lights. Tinkie's Caddy was there, as well as Krystal's car, and several others I didn't recognize. My friends, and Mr. Friedman, were standing on the porch.

Cece, dazzling in a sheer red sundress with spaghetti straps and dancing sandals, held up her glass. "To Sarah Booth!" They all lifted their glasses and someone stuck a flute of champagne in my hand. We toasted as the front door burst open. A big brown dog rushed out to greet me.

"Sweetie Pie?" I almost choked. My gaze shot up to Tinkie.

"It's not permanent," she said in a rush. "It'll wash out in a few weeks."

Lee was laughing, and I thought how young she looked. It was as if she'd left the old woman back in the cell.

"I have a surprise for you." She took my elbow and began to steer me off the porch and around the house. "Sarah Booth, I know I made it hard on you. All of the evidence pointed to Kip as the murderer. The only thing I could do was protect her the only way I knew how. That was to take the blame. Bud was the only one who really believed she was innocent. He never would concede that she might have killed Kemper, even if she had every reason in the world to do it."

"We both owe Kip an apology," I pointed out.

"She owes you one, too. She lured Mr. Friedman here under false pretenses, but that will all be explained soon enough."

She was hustling me along pretty rapidly. Everyone else had fallen into line behind us. There was an expectant silence that both warned and excited me.

We rounded the corner, and I saw that someone had turned on the lights in the old barn that Aunt LouLane had used as a storage shed. Lee let out a whistle, and there was an answering whinny from inside the barn. A magnificent buckskin horse burst out of the barn and ran to the rickety fence.

"His name is Reveler. He's a four-year-old by Avenger, out of a terrific mare, Miss ScrapIron. He's yours, Sarah Booth."

"Mine?" I had to be dreaming. I'd always wanted a horse.

Reveler came to the fence and tossed his head, thick black mane flying. With a snort, he spun and galloped across the paddock, his muscles rippling.

"You can keep him here, or bring him back out to Swift Level. Whatever is easiest for you." Lee's hand was on my back, gently rubbing.

"Lee, I can't accept a horse. Especially not one of Avenger's babies." I knew how valuable Reveler's lineage made him.

"Sure you can. You can have the horse, or wait until spring and I'll pay you the money I owe you for handling my case. Now for the rest of the surprise." Lee whistled again. "Come on out!"

I looked to the open doorway and felt a small explosion in my heart. A teenage girl and a tall cowboy came walking out. Kip was leading a big gray stallion.

I stared at them. "I hope Coleman can figure out a charge to put you both in jail for scaring us all half to death." I hadn't realized how mad I was at Bud and Kip.

"Sarah Booth, dahling," Cece called out, "you don't have to act like an ass just because yours is hanging out the back of that devastatingly awful hospital gown."

Cece, as usual, was right on target. Kip, Bud--and Avenger--were safe. That was all that really mattered.

Kip climbed through the fence and wrapped an arm around me. "I'm sorry, Sarah Booth. I let you know as soon as I could."

"I'm glad you're okay." I kissed her cheek.

"I won't stay mad at you for thinking I was a murderer if you won't stay mad at me," she said, her eyes dancing. "Thank you, Sarah Booth. You saved my mother."

"Tinkie actually gets the credit. And Kinky," I said. "They saved me, too. Now, where have you been?" I asked her.

"At Roscoe's place. Over in
Leflore
County
. Not very far away." She turned to Kinky. "I've explained everything to Mr. Friedman, and how you weren't involved in the story I made up." She bit her lip and leaned over to whisper. "He's been really nice about it."

"Should I ever decide to write a book about crazy Mississippians," Kinky said, "I've got more than enough material."

Cece tucked her arm through Kinky's. "We do crazy like nobody else can do it." She waved a hand. "One can't celebrate without food. Millie's on her way with some barbecue and cole slaw," she said. "Harold's bringing some ice. This is going to be the first barbecue of the season. I've got to call Garvel to bring a camera. Imagine the spread I can do--Kinky Friedman as celebrity guest; Lee absolved; Carol Beth in jail; Bud, Kip, and Avenger risen from the dead. It's a perfect pre-Easter story."

I
t
was the
wee hours before I finally made it to my bedroom. Since I was only wearing a hospital gown, the process of undressing was much easier.

I crawled beneath the comforter. My arm throbbed, despite the tender ministrations of my good friend Jack. I had a bit of him beside the bed, which I intended to sip, while I unwound.

"So, you get yourself shot and still end up in bed alone."

I looked up to find Jitty in the rocker. She was heel-toeing it to beat the band. Any minute that old rocker was going to throw her on the floor.

"Getting shot isn't exactly in the romance guide as foreplay." I put my book aside, glad to be alive to argue with Jitty. She was even more stunning than usual in a glittering green unitard. "Where are you headed?"

"I'm lookin' to the future, Sarah Booth."

"I'm glad someone is. I'm pretty happy to be right here." For one night, at least, I had found the perfect balance between past and future.

"You might explain what that mystery writer is doing as your housepest."

I gave her a sharp look. She was beginning to talk like Kinky. "He's here because he helped save my life, and because I invited him to stay. Also because Kip e-mailed him that someone was murdering all the cats in
Sunflower
County
, and that I needed his help on the case. She was playing on his sympathies as a cat lover."

"That girl has a way with computers," Jitty retorted. "Of course, she has a tendency to exaggerate, but maybe that's an indication of a career in writing. If she could devise an E-mail that gets men runnin' after you, she has real talent."

"Aren't you going to congratulate me for solving the case?" I decided to take the high road and ignore her jabs. "Lee is free. All charges have been dropped."

"Congratulations, Sarah Booth. Now that we've taken care of that, I want to point out that you're missin' an opportunity. There's a live one sleepin' in your guest room."

"Tonight, I'm sleeping alone, Jitty. The only thing I'm taking to bed with me is this book." I held up the Kinkster's mystery. I had one chapter to go before I finished.

"Your life is a series of wrong choices," Jitty admonished as she began to fade.

I picked up my book and slipped easily into the world of the Kinkster: his apartment, beneath the loft of the lesbian dance class, where he was deviled by a know-it-all cat and a cluster of friends as ornery and loyal as my own.