The Traveling Corpse (3 page)

“You're right, Von,” Annie said. “I grew up
in a city, and I always think of police before I do the
sheriff.”

Verna, whose northern Maine accent was
stronger than her husband's, tried to get them to wait until the
storm eased, “You'll both get soaked if you go outdoors now. It's
raining way too hard to go out there, even undah the cahport.
Surely, it won't hurt to wait a few minutes. These kindar storms
nevah last too long.”

“Please, this is an emergency. I really need
to call for help right away,” Annie pleaded.

Von ignored his wife. He'd been a lumberman
for many years, making his living in the rough, wild Maine woods,
and he wasn't about to let a Florida rainstorm keep him from going
out to his car when it was parked in his own carport. He pulled his
car keys out of his pocket ready to go outside. “I'll bring it in.
No sense both of us getting' wet.” He thought to ask Annie, “Do you
know the phone number?”

She shook her head.

“Well, while you look up the number, I'll run
out and fetch it. I keep it in the car just for emergencies.”

Verna pushed her glasses up on her nose, then
reached for the phone book. As she was looking for the number of
the sheriff, she asked, “Why do you have to call the police? I
mean, the sheriff?” It was a natural question for a law-abiding
woman to ask.

“Just give me the number,” Annie begged.
“Barb can tell you more.”

Von's shirt was damp by the time he arrived
back in the house. He turned on the cell phone and dialed the
number then handed the phone to Annie. She raised it to the side of
her head. Von explained, “Just talk into it like you would on a
regular phone.”

She thanked him and mouthed to he and his
wife both, “Listen and you'll get the whole story.”

She expected to be calm and collected, but
when the dispatcher at the Sheriff's Department answered, Annie
blurted out, “There's a body, and it's dead, and it's in a drawer,
and…”

The dispatcher interrupted, “Ma'am, I'll put
you through to Sergeant Menendez.”

When the sergeant came on the line, Annie was
surprised to hear a woman's voice. The officer suggested that Annie
take a deep breath and then begin. Annie told her story—that she
had seen and felt the right arm and hand of a dead woman wearing
jewelry, red fingernail polish, and light blue denim jeans and that
it was in a drawer in BradLee's Old Main Clubhouse.

When she finally gave the phone back to Von,
Annie said with relief, “It took awhile, but I finally convinced
that woman sergeant that she needs to come out here to BradLee and
check this out.”

Von shook his head in disbelief, “Annie,
you've had a horrible experience. You know Verna and I will do
anything and everything we can to help you.”

“The first thing to do is to
not
say
anything to anyone for a while. I may be in danger.”

“Just tell us what you want us to do. We'll
be there for you.”

“Thanks,” Annie said to her friends.

Verna said, “Von, you are wet. I don't want
you getting sick. We've got a mystery to solve, and you need to
stay well. Go put on a dry shirt.”

Barb had been looking out of Vigeaux's front
window. She exclaimed, “I see some lights over there.” She pointed
towards the part of the park where she and Annie lived. “Hopefully,
ours are back on, too”

Annie looked out the window too. “And it
looks like the rain is beginning to slacken. Like Verna said, these
sudden, hard storms never last too long. Maybe the electricity is
back on at my place by now. Please, may I use the phone again? I
want to call home and talk to Art, or at least leave him a message
on our answering machine, that is if it's working. I'll ask him to
come over here or to find me at Old Main.”

Annie dialed her home phone number. When Art
didn't pick up, she pleaded to the answering machine, “Oh, Honey, I
hope you get home soon; something awful has happened. I
need
you; I really do. Please call Brad and let him know that Barb's
with me at Vigeaux's. If we aren't here, we'll be at Old Main with
the Sheriff.” She knew that ‘need' was a magic word and so was
‘Sheriff.' Art would come looking for her as soon as he heard her
plea, no matter how tired he was.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Brad Barkowski pulled his Chevy Suburban to a
stop under the shelter of Art Andersen's carport.

Art climbed out, stretched, said his thanks,
and waved good-bye to his friend. He was exhausted after a long day
away and was glad to be home. The house was dark, so he knew Annie
wasn't home from Bingo. He flipped the light switch on and then
hung up his windbreaker in the Florida room. There was only one
thing he wanted to do and that was to ease his long lean body into
his favorite recliner and rest until Annie got back. As he crossed
through the kitchen, he saw the light blinking on the microwave
oven. That meant one thing; the power had gone out again.

Checking his wristwatch, he noted that it had
only been off for twelve minutes. He decided that the microwave
could wait; he'd reset its clock later. The answering machine was
also blinking. He hesitated, thinking he'd really like to rest
first. But since Annie wasn't home, it might be a message from her.
With a sigh, he pushed the button and immediately heard the
distress in his devoted Annie's voice. This summer they would be
married 50 years, and he knew every nuance in her pleasing voice.
This particular tone meant trouble. As the message was playing, he
started pulling his jacket back on. He made a quick call to Brad
and then hurried to his car.

It was still raining hard, but it wasn't a
downpour now. Fortunately, the streetlights were working on
Lakeside Blvd. As he parked in Von and Verna Vigeaux's driveway,
Brad pulled in beside him. “Long time no see,” he joked as the two
men shook hands.

“I didn't expect to see you again tonight,”
his friend answered. “Looks like Barb's involved in some trouble
that Annie's stirred up.”

“She didn't go into details; so I don't know
what it is. She just left me a message to come here first. But the
sound of her voice has me worried.” Art shook his head, remembering
some of the adventures that the two women had shared. “Those two
have had some fun times together, but they've never had to call in
the law before! Glad we got here before the Sheriff did. I want to
be with Annie when she faces them.”

As they walked to the side door, Brad said,
“And I'll bet those officers aren't any happier about having to
come out in this weather than we are.” Both Art and Brad knew,
though, that nothing would keep them home if their wives needed
them; they'd be right by their sides.

Art added, “And I'll bet those deputies are
asking themselves, ‘What trifling thing has upset the little old
seniors tonight?' You can bet it's something serious, or Annie
would not have called the Sheriff's department for help.”

 

* * *

 

Actually, Art wasn't far from the mark.
Earlier, Maria Menendez, a trim, dark-haired, thirty-year-old woman
who had recently been promoted to the rank of sergeant, hung up the
telephone at the Sheriff's Department. She then called her
assistant, Deputy Joe Juarez, and said, “We've got a weird one
tonight, and the moon isn't even full!” Juarez, young and athletic,
was new on the force, and like Menendez, he was of Latin descent;
he was Mexican, and she was Cuban. Recently, he had hired on at the
county Sheriff's Department after finishing a two-year criminal
justice course of study at a local community college. Neither of
the officers was thrilled to have to go out in a storm to answer a
call that seemed strange—a real lulu.

“Tell me again,” Joe asked his sergeant as
she got into his car, “Why didn't that woman get a look at the dead
woman's face? It was right there in the drawer, wasn't it?”

“It's the weird ones that make our job
interesting,” Maria Menendez answered as she fastened her seat
belt. “All I know is what that Andersen woman told me on the phone.
She claims she is a Registered Nurse, now retired and that there is
a dead woman in some storage drawer in BradLee's Old Main
Clubhouse. She told me that she didn't want to cause a panic at
Bingo; so she just slid the drawer back and called us. If she's
actually a nurse, she must know a dead person when she sees
one.”

“But, she didn't see a dead person. You said
she only saw a dead arm and hand!” Joe shook his head, not
convinced that this wasn't a joke of some kind.

“Well, my little friend,” Maria said to the
young deputy who towered over her 5 foot 3 inch slender frame, “we
may get wet, but we need to check this one out. Don't put the siren
on. No need to upset the little old seniors yet. They'll be put off
enough because their phones are out. We'll be getting calls
complaining, ‘Why can't you make the Electric Company keep the
electricity on?' They'll whine, ‘It doesn't go off all the time up
North where we used to live.' Personally, if they like their
precious North so much, why don't they just stay up there?” Maria
ended decisively.

“If you're not fond of retirees,” Juarez
said, “then you're living in the wrong state.”

“I know. Florida is God's holding pen. It
isn't that I dislike older people, it's just that I've had some
unpleasant dealings with some of them. Maybe this case will make me
change my mind,” she responded as she drummed her fingers on her
thighs.

“From the memo you just gave me,” Joe Juarez
said, “I wouldn't bank on it.”

They drove on without talking until Joe broke
the silence, saying, “Some of the lights have come back on over on
the west side of town. Maybe we'll get lucky, and BradLee's lights
will be on by the time we get there. That would make things easier
for us,” he said.

Menendez answered, “Lights will certainly
make it easier to identify a body. But there is usually nothing
easy about solving a murder. However, it will be better if we're
there to find the body than if Mrs. Andersen had tried to handle it
by herself. She probably did the cool thing. She actually sounded
fairly sensible on the phone. Well, here we are. For your
information, Joe, the people who live here are Von and Verna
Vigeaux, friends of Annie Andersen and her friend, Barbara
Bradkowski. Let's find out the rest of the story,” Menendez said,
getting out of the patrol car.

 

* * *

 

From Vigeaux's front window, Barb watched the
lights come back on. The parking lot for Old Main was full of cars;
so she assumed that Bingo was still being played. She saw the
deputy turn in and park the green and white cruiser. “They're
here,” she announced.

Art saw Annie draw in her breath and brace
herself for the ordeal facing her.

The deputies introduced themselves as they
entered the mobile home. The young man stood near Vigeaux's front
door while Sergeant Menendez took charge and began questioning
Annie.

After retelling everything that had happened
to her, Annie cautioned the deputies, “I don't suppose I should try
to tell you what to do, but I am old enough to be your mama—maybe
your grandmother! I don't think you should go charging into Old
Main, not with all those old people in there playing Bingo. They
might panic, and we don't want anyone having a heart attack over
this. Besides, that dead body will still be there. You can do this
without making a big fuss. After all, it's not going anywhere!”

The two uniformed officers shook their heads.
Sgt. Menendez explained to the six seniors, “We can't wait for
Bingo to end; we must investigate right now. That body should not
have been left unattended.” Annie started to protest, but the
sergeant continued, “Under the circumstances you described, I
understand your actions.”

Annie let out a sigh of relief.

The officers decided not to enter the hall
through the front double doors. Rather, they chose to slip in the
door on the east side of the building. This one was located near
the stage and was the door closest to the Number Ten drawer. The
six seniors were told to wait and watch from a distance. Since the
temperature was dropping, they didn't want to wait outside; they
preferred to go inside the building to be warm and dry. The rain
had stopped by now, but rain drops were still dripping from the
dangling Spanish moss.

Annie and Art, Barb and Brad, and the
Vigeauxs circled around the building, passing the double doors on
the front entrance of Old Main and entering the building on the
opposite side, through the back door to the kitchen. From the
pass-through window, they watched the deputies pull out the Number
Ten drawer.

By now, the second half of the Bingo games
was in full swing. The lights had been out for less than fifteen
minutes, and the Bingo players had waited patiently, knowing from
past experience that the electricity would soon be back on. A woman
that Annie only knew as Mary was taking her turn at calling the
Bingo numbers. She announced, “O – 65.”

Annie looked around for Karl. She couldn't
see him; she couldn't help but wonder where he was. However, her
main attention was concentrated on the two officers. Everyone else
in the large room was, too, keeping one eye on the deputies and the
other one on the Bingo screens. The officers didn't say a word as
they sorted through the drawer. Sgt. Menendez took out a few of the
boxes and plastic bags that held decorations. The Bingo caller kept
on with, “G-47,” then “I-29.” Deputy Juarez took out more boxes,
stacking them on the edge of the stage as Annie had done earlier
that evening. Then the two officers bent deeper into the drawer.
When they finally stood up, Annie saw the young deputy shrug. She
watched them replace the boxes, push the drawer shut, and start to
leave.