The Trophy Exchange (4 page)

“
Lieutenant, over here.
”

She turned her back on them and addressed the officer responsible for logging law enforcement members in and out of the house.
“
Kirby, get someone to barricade this damn block. ASAP. I want these shit-eating jackals out of here.
”

“
Yes ma
’
am,
”
he said as he keyed in on his radio and shouted instructions. A mass of blue materialized in a flash pushing back reporters and cameramen. White sawhorses appeared like magic.

Lucinda headed across the street. She didn
’
t notice the lone reporter who evaded the round-up until a microphone was pushed to her mouth.
“
Lieutenant Pierce, I see you
’
ve got a gun in your holster. Did they let you have bullets to go with it?
”

She looked down at the reporter. Her nostrils flared. Her jaw throbbed. She wanted to pistol-whip his smirking face but she just stared.

He flinched under her gaze but did not back away.
“
Well, Lieutenant, did they let you load your gun or did they make you keep your bullet in your pocket?
”

She spread out the fingers of one hand enveloping the fuzzy head of the microphone and pushed it down toward the ground.
“
I could tell you, yes, my gun is loaded, but you wouldn
’
t really know unless I showed you, would you?
”

His Adam
’
s apple took a deep bob.
“
No, Lieutenant. I suppose I wouldn
’
t.
”

“
I never pull my gun out unless I intend to use it. Do you want me to pull it out right here, right now? Do you want to look down the barrel of my gun?
”

“
No, Lieutenant. I suppose I don
’
t.
”

“
Fine. Take your smart mouth and your dumb ass to the other side of the barricade. Now.
”
She lifted her hand off the microphone, turned her back on the rattled reporter and headed to the burgundy bungalow. The tape of the shooting incident that resulted in her recent suspension was downloaded and ready to roll in her head. She had no time to relive the should-haves and would-haves of the worst moment of her life as a cop. She blinked her eye and tried to force the vision away.

But a freeze-frame of that tiny dead body on the lawn remained displayed in vivid color in her mind as she finished crossing the street from the Spencer home. She opened the gate, went up the sidewalk and on to the porch of the burgundy bungalow. She shook her head to dislodge the image. It receded but would not go away. The sight of the little lifeless body was burned permanently on the back of her retina.

Four

Before Lucinda could knock, the door flew open. A short intense woman with dyed blonde hair and gray roots looked straight at Lucinda
’
s chest and slowly raised her head.
“
My! You
’
re a tall one, aren
’
t you?
”

“
Are you
Ms.
Craddick?
”

“
Just call me Rose. Come in, come in,
”
she said
,
turning her back and waving her arm over her head.

Lucinda followed the woman down a hallway, sidling through the stacked boxes that lined both walls. They went past a spacious kitchen where foot after foot of counter surface was piled high with books, bills, newspapers, magazines, cooking utensils and other miscellaneous debris. If she ever tried to cook in here, Lucinda thought, the whole place would go up like a bonfire.

“
Have a seat, have a seat.
”
Rose gestured to the chairs at a table in the adjacent dining room. The room was small and packed with furniture: an oversized china cabinet, an enormous buffet, eight ponderous carved chairs and a long table covered with piles of paper and periodicals. Rose shoved a couple of stacks out of the way as she sat across from Lucinda.
“
Did you catch that no-goodnik yet?
”

“
Catch who,
Ms.
Craddick?
”

“
Rose. Call me Rose.
”
She peered at Lucinda showing no inclination to continue the conversation until her visitor complied.

“
Yes, Rose. Rose it is.
”

“
Speaking of roses, officer, did you notice those big bushes on the side of the Spencer house?
”

“
Yes, Rose, I did. But who do you think we need to catch?
”

“
That nasty
Dr.
Spencer, that
’
s who. He planted those roses.
”

“Dr.
Spencer?
”

“
Yes. He planted those roses and he killed his wife. I know he did it.
”

“
You do?
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am, officer. I saw him plant those roses.
”

“
The roses?
”

“
Yes. I can see that side of the house real good from my bedroom window and I saw him do it.
”

“
Do what, Rose?
”

“
Plant those roses,
”
she said staring at Lucinda as if she were dense.
“
It
’
s what they call one of those
‘
previous bad acts
’
on TV.
”

“
Oh, on TV.
”

“
Yep. I watch all those shows. You can learn a lot from them, you know. I bet you watch them all, too. Anyway, that
Dr.
Spencer, he dug those holes after dark one night. When he finished, I went to watch one of my shows. The next morning – at the butt crack of dawn – he was out there again. He was planting those rose bushes. They were really small then. But you see them now. They
’
ve grown like crazy. You saw them, didn
’
t you?
”

“
Yes, I did, Rose. They are quite large.
”

Rose leaned forward, her chin nearly on the table.
“
Unnaturally large, officer. I think while I was watching my show, that
’
s when he snuck back and put the dead bodies in the holes.
”

“
Dead bodies?
”
Lucinda said and looked over the woman
’
s head to the patrolman leaning against the wall. He rolled his eyes.

“
Yes, dead bodies. Bodies are natural fertilizer. Made those bushes grow so fast. I
’
m sure of it.
”

“
Whose bodies, Rose?
”

“
Don
’
t know. But he
’
s a doctor. I
’
m sure he killed a patient or two. They all do. Only he didn
’
t want no law suit.
”

“
So because of the bodies under the rose bushes, you think
Dr.
Spencer killed his wife?
”
Lucinda asked as she rose to her feet.

“
Well, yeah. But that
’
s not all. I haven
’
t told you the rest. You want a cup of coffee? I can make a fresh pot in just a minute.
”

“
No thanks, Rose. We really need to get going. What haven
’
t you told us yet?
”

“
I haven
’
t gotten to the time he pulled a gun on me.
”

“Dr.
Spencer pulled a gun on you, Rose?
”
Lucinda asked as she sank back down on her chair.

“
Yep. He sure did. And he called me a nosy old biddy and told me I needed to get a life.
”

“
He did?
”

“
Yes. Can you imagine? I
’
m just a concerned neighbor who tries to watch out for her neighbors – keep the neighborhood safe – and he threatens me with a gun. I could be one of the bodies buried under the rose bushes right now.
”

“
Rose, when did this happen?
”

“
Just before last Christmas.
”

“
Did you report it to the police?
”

“
No ma
’
am. I
’
m a good neighbor. A good neighbor doesn
’
t rat on her fellow neighbors.
”

Lucinda raised her eyebrows. The patrolman covered his mouth to hide his grin.
“
Did it happen here at your house?
”
Lucinda asked.

“
Oh, heavens, no. It was over at their house.
”

“
In the house?
”

“
No. On the front porch.
”

“
You were on their front porch?
”

“
Yes. I wanted to get a better look at their Christmas tree. Charley told me they strung real cranberries and popcorn for the tree. So that night, I went over to look.
”

“
And what happened?
”

“
I was looking in the window, minding my own business, when that
Dr.
Spencer came roaring out of the front door waving a gun.
”

“
You were on their front porch, peeping in their window, in the dark?
”

“
Well, the lights just don
’
t look the same in the daytime. Everybody knows that. And that crazy man came out waving a gun in the air.
”

“
O
kay
, Rose. Thank you so much for your time.
”
Lucinda stood and exchanged a knowing glance with the patrolman.

“
Wait. Wait, officer. I haven
’
t told you the best part yet. I saw him running from the house just a little bit before I heard the sirens.
”
Rose folded her arms across her chest and beamed at Lucinda.

The lieutenant sat back down again.
“
You saw
Dr.
Spencer leaving the house this afternoon?
”

“
Yes I did. And, let me tell you, he was in a hurry.
”

“
Are you sure it was
Dr.
Spencer?
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am. You don
’
t live across the street from someone all these years without knowing what they look like.
”

“
So you got a good look at him?
”

“
Good enough to know it was him.
”

“
Did you see his face?
”

“
Not real good. He had this hooded sweatshirt on. That
’
s pretty suspicious, isn
’
t it? I thought about that when I saw him. I wondered what he was doing wearing a sweatshirt. Still a little warm to have the hood pulled up over your head.
”

“
The hood was up but you still saw his face?
”

“
Well, not exactly.
”

“
Not exactly? What did you see?
”