Death is Long Overdue (Phee Jefferson Book 1) (2 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

“Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell.”

- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 'The Copper Beeches' The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

I pulled Velma into the Quickie Cow and parked next to the payphone.  The Quickie Cow is what passes for fast food here in Miller's Cove.  It consisted of an old Silverstream trailer converted into a kitchen with a counter and a few tables with umbrellas on a wooden deck attached on the side and back.  It served the best jalapeno burgers and thickest peach shakes anywhere. More importantly, it still had an operating payphone in the parking lot.  Bless Ma Bell for her invention and forgetting it was still here.

"What should I say?" I asked Juliet as I dug around for change in my leather messenger bag that doubled as my purse.  Pulling out two quarters, I got ready to get out and call the sheriff.

"Don't tell them who you are.  Try to disguise your voice and say that there's a dead body at 325 Oakwyn Street," Juliet instructed.  "Do not give out any more information than you have to and get off the phone fast. We need to have time to be gone and back home before they send someone to Oakwyn Street or here in case they trace the call to the phone booth."

Nodding my head, I slipped my now too large gloves onto my hands and stepped out.  Dropping the quarters into the slot, I dialed the number for the Miller's Cove Sheriff. "Miller's Cove Sheriff's Office.  How can I help you?" A deep voice that I immediately recognized answered.  My stomach dropped into my hobbit-sized feet then flew back up into my throat.

I gulped and squeaked out, "I'd like to report a dead body."

"And your name?" Asked the voice that used to make my heart go pitter patter every day in high school, college, grad school....oh, heck,  every single day since he became my older brother Rick's friend when I was ten years old.  Clint Mason.

"The body can be found at 325 Oakwyn Street.  Mr. Huey Long," I stammered out and started to hang up.

"Ophelia Jefferson?  Is that you?  Phee?" Clint demanded.  I quickly hung up and ran back to the van.  Hopping in, I started Velma and drove like my mom on her way to a Black Friday sale at Macy's.  I could feel myself sweat and my hands were clammy inside the leather gloves.

"Well?" Juliet asked.

"It was Clint.  I think he recognized my voice when I said where they could find the body."  I inhaled deeply and tried to calm down.  Glancing at my speedometer, I realized I was going 55 in a 35 M.P.H. zone. I eased my foot off the pedal.  "I am screwed.  At least my orange jumpsuit will remind me of Velma while I am in the big house filing callouses off some hardened bank robber's heels and being her bunk time wife."  I eased into the driveway of my 1920's bungalow and shifted into park.

"Phee, you aren't going to jail.  You found a dead body.  You reported a dead body.  The house was unlocked. You say you went over there to pick up the books and found the door open.  When you stumbled across his body, you panicked and left.  You realized it was wrong to leave the scene of the crime, so you pulled into the Quickie Cow and called to report it.  Everyone in town knows you, Phee.  You’re so honest you make Abe Lincoln look like a pathological liar.  You've got this. Just chill the heck out," Juliet said. "And more importantly, my car is still a block from the scene of the crime. You need to get me over there pronto so I can move Ole Blue."

I restarted Velma, backed out of the driveway and drove the two miles to where Juliet's convertible was parked.  I didn't hear any sirens and the streets were deserted.  Maybe Clint thought it was a prank call.  Juliet and I drinking one too many gin rickeys on our weekly girls' night out.

"I'll follow you back to your house," Juliet said.  "I need a drink and you most definitely need one. I'll see you back at your place in just a few minutes."  She hopped out and walked to her car.

I once again headed down the road and turned onto Willow Street towards my home.  Pulling up, I saw a truck sitting in my driveway. Leaning against the side of it and talking on his cell phone was Deputy Clint Mason.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Among my stillness was a pounding heart.” - Shannon A. Thompson, Seconds Before Sunrise

I could have kept on driving and acted like I didn't see him. Instead, I decided to put on my big girl granny panties and pull in next to him. I hopped out of Velma and tried to stroll casually towards him.  Not easy to do with a dead body on my mind and a sexy deputy sheriff in my driveway.  Clint had wavy dark brown hair and the greenest eyes that I hoped would undress me. Maybe one day his hands would undress me for real.

"Hi, Clint. What's up?" I asked in what I hoped was a nonchalant voice.  I continued past him, stepped onto my porch and unlocked my door.

"Really?" Clint's incredulous response told me that the game was up.  He clipped his phone back into the case on his belt. "You call the sheriff's office and report a dead body pretending to be...oh, hell, I don't know and you ask me what's up?"  He strode up the steps and brushed past me into the house.  "You want to tell me what kind of crazy stunt you are up to now?"

"I don't do crazy stunts, thank you very much." I tried to sound indignant, but I was so nervous my voice cracked a little.

"If it's not a crazy stunt you and Juliet cooked up on your girls' night out, then what in the Sam Hill is going on?" Clint walked into my kitchen, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea. Even though he had spent time at my home growing up, I felt an intimate domesticity with him at the moment.  Despite the trauma of the evening, I couldn't help but appreciate how good his rear end looked in his khakis.  Good googly moogly, he was fine.  "Start talking, Phee.  I want you to tell me why in the world you would call the sheriff’s department to report a dead body anonymously." Clint reached into the cupboard and pulled glasses out. He turned and leaned against the counter looking at me expectantly.

Seating myself at the kitchen table, I took a deep breath and told him that I had gone to Huey Long's house to get all of his overdue books and discovered him naked and dead in the middle of his living room.  I left out the part about me mooning the world when my pants came off. I felt some things were better to keep secret.  Besides it was not relevant to the case, darn it!

"Let me see if I understand this.  You broke into his house, found his body and decided not to call an ambulance. You just assumed he was dead?  Ah, Phee, you've really put me in a bad spot here."  I refused to look at him because if I did I would burst into tears and end up splotchy and snotty and not potential hot girlfriend material.

"I didn’t assume anything.  Trust me.  He was most definitely dead.  An ambulance wouldn't have changed that and I panicked!  I've never seen a dead body. It is way different in real life than when you read about it in an Agatha Christie novel.  Clint, I am sorry.  Please don't arrest me!" I pleaded and felt the tears welling in my eyes.  In one quick move, he was across the room and pulling me out of the chair and into his arms.

"Don't cry, Flea.  I won't be arresting you.  I know you pretty well, and I think I can safely say that you didn't kill anyone.  More importantly, your brother would kill me and your mom would bury me in her vegetable garden if I slapped cuffs on you."  He ruffled my strawberry blonde curls like I was still twelve years old and following him around asking for a ride on his dirt bike.  Unlike my brother's other friends, Clint would always find a few minutes to talk to me before hopping onto his bike and roaring off with my brother to "pick up chicks."

"Thanks," I sniffled. "Don't call me Flea.  You know I hate that name."  Pulling myself away from him, I walked over and poured two glasses of tea and handed one to him.  Trying to compose myself, I took my time adding sugar to my glass. "And thanks for not thinking I'm a murderess.  I would not do well in prison.  Orange clashes with my hair."

"You are not completely off the hook yet.  Drink your tea and let's head over to the scene.  We need to meet Deputy Thompson.  Just in case you weren’t joking, I sent him over there to check things out.  I got a call from him right before you pulled up.  He verified Huey Long is definitely dead."

CHAPTER SIX

“I am Dead, but it's not so bad. I've learned to live with it.” -Isaac Marion, Warm Bodies

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled in behind a patrol car.  Stepping out of Clint's truck, I spotted yellow crime scene tape circling the yard.  My vision grayed and I felt a little light-headed. Huey Long was dead, and I was involved in a criminal investigation.  Grasping the door handle, I steadied myself and took a deep breath.  If Miss Marple could handle a crime scene, Ophelia Jefferson definitely could.  I started to walk towards the house with what I hoped was a determined, yet innocent, look on my face.

"Whoa! Cool your engines there, Phee."  Clint grasped my arm to stop me. "I need you to take me step-by-step through your movements.  I need to be able to exclude anything belonging to you.  But first I need to go talk to Mark and see what he's found so far. Right now you should get back in the truck and wait for me to come get you. Understand?"

Silently, I nodded my head and climbed back in the truck.  I wasn’t going to argue with him at this point. I watched Clint head into the house.  I was somewhat relieved to get a short reprieve. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to seeing the body again.  The Addams Family theme song boomed out in the truck cab.  Jumping in my seat, I hit my head on the window, cursed and rummaged quickly in my messenger bag for my cell phone.

"Where are you?" Juliet hissed through the phone.

"Thanks for abandoning me," I answered sarcastically. "I thought you were following me to my house."

"I did follow you.  I followed you and kept right on going when I saw you and Clint heading into the house.  What's going on?  You answered your phone, so I know you aren't in cuffs, but let me know if I need to go ask Mom and Dad for bail money.  Glad it's you and not me needing it." Juliet could never be serious.  I could be bleeding on the side of the road and somehow she’d be able to crack a joke.

"Ha ha. Very funny.  Seriously, do not say a word to anyone about this.  I didn't tell Clint you met me at the crime scene. As far as he knows, it was me all by my lonesome and let's just keep it that way.  If Mom and Dad find out about this they are going to kill me.  Better only one of us is in jail.  I am here at Huey’s house now waiting to go through things with Clint and Deputy Thompson.  Go home and keep your lips zipped.  If you spill the beans, I’ll tell everyone all about your weekend stay in the county clink when you went to Florida for spring break," I threatened. "I’ll call you tomorrow morning and give you an update.  Remember what I said. Not a word."

"Sheesh.  I won't say anything.  I’m not the one who broke into a house under dark of night with a mask on, my jail bird sister.  I am just an innocent bystander,” Juliet said lightly.  “I’m just kidding.  Seriously, Phee, I love you.  If you need me, call me and I promise I’ll be there." Juliet hung up before I could respond. One thing about Juliet, she might be a little bit of a granola-eating hippie, but I knew she would be standing right by my side in a fight. I tucked the phone back into my bag.  Looking up, I saw Clint striding towards the truck. He did not look happy.  In fact, he looked downright grim.  I stepped out of the truck and headed his way.

"I need you to walk me through from the time you left Velma to the time you got back into her," Clint said as he walked up next to me. We headed towards the backyard.  He turned on his large flashlight and skimmed it over scene.

"I came through Mrs. Grimes' back yard and then walked up to the window right there."  I pointed to the window with the squashed tulips.  Huey prided himself on his beautiful flower beds and I felt a pang of remorse for stepping on them.  "The window was open a crack.  I pushed it up and climbed through."  I reached over to the window to show him what I had done earlier in the evening.

"Hold on!  Don't touch anything.  What is that caught on the window?"  Pulling on latex gloves, he reached over and plucked a bit of red off the frame of the window.  He held it up to inspect it under his flashlight. I felt a crimson tide wash over me as I realized it was a piece of the red lace thong I was currently wearing.  I guess the window had caught more than just my pants.

"Um...that’s from me. I, uh, accidentally caught myself on the frame as I climbed in," I stammered.

"Your pants are black." Clint peered down at me with a grin on his face.  "When did you find time to change?"

"Those are from my panties, if you must know.  My pants were tugged off by the window frame because I got stuck," I said with as much dignity as I could muster. Please let the great god of sinkholes take pity on me and suck me into the bowels of the earth right this very moment.

"I will make a note of that in my report." His eyes twinkling, he walked towards the back door and motioned for me to follow.  "I don't want you to climb back through the window and moon Deputy Thompson.  Let's just use the door, okay?"

"Thanks," I said and tossed my hair in an attempt to look composed and cool.  I marched through the door and towards the living room.  I stopped when I saw Deputy Thompson leaning over the body.

"Well, Ms. Jefferson, you certainly found yourself a heap of trouble tonight." Deputy Mark Thompson had known me since I begged him at eight years old to take me to a crime scene so I could try out my Junior Girl Detective Kit.  He’d retired a few years ago but found fishing wasn't enough to keep him occupied and out of his wife's hair, so he came back to work part-time.

"Hey there, Mark." I smiled weakly at him. "It's nice to see you but not really very nice to be here next to a dead body."

"What's the verdict, Mark?" Clint knelt down next to the body.  Now that the lights were on in the house, I could see that a belt was buckled tightly around Huey's neck causing his eyes to bulge slightly.  His Mr. Winky was still standing at full mast, too.  I felt slightly queasy at the sight of him.

"Based on what I’ve found so far, he was definitely strangled. We’ll have to wait for Doc to make the official determination though.  His laptop is open on the desk and from what I saw he had some really interesting taste in porn.  Don't you look over there, Ms. Jefferson. Ladies don't need to be looking at that kind of trash. The killer must have walked in the unlocked back door and somehow sneaked up on him while he was sitting at the desk.  I saw some scuff marks in the carpet over there. The killer must have dragged him over here and laid him out. I also found some footprints in the dirt next to the back door.  I marked it with an evidence flag and took a photo. Whoever was standing out there was wearing a pair of tennis shoes. It looks to be a fairly small-sized shoe.  I'm not sure what brand."

"Thanks, Matt. Phee, did you touch anything in the room?  See or hear anything when you were here?" Clint interrogated me.

"I was wearing gloves, but no, I didn't touch anything in this room besides the books.  I touched the window and the back door.  I’m pretty sure that was it.  It was dark, and I only had a little penlight. I really couldn't see anything."  I felt my gaze drawn inadvertently back to the body. I wished at that moment that I had not listened to Juliet.  I should have stayed a nice girl with her nose buried in her books.