“So THAT’S where it went!” Emma Jo exclaims.
Leo looks back at her in confusion and I quickly wrap my hand around her arm and give her a squeeze of warning to shut the hell up, but she doesn’t take my subtle hint and just makes things worse.
“I mean, that’s where THEY went. The raccoons being the they in question. I haven’t seen them in a few days and I got worried. Because RACCOONS in the wrong hands could be dangerous. RACCOONS in the wrong hands could kill people,” she rambles.
Leo looks back and forth silently between us with a raise of his eyebrow while I quickly try to fix her word vomit.
“Dangerous on account of the rabies. You know, raccoons having rabies and all that and rabies being deadly,” I add with a nervous chuckle, not fixing her word vomit AT ALL.
“So, you’ve seen these raccoons before?” Leo questions Emma Jo.
“Our Emma Jo is just like Snow White! Animals from all over the land flock to her and want to be friends with her, even rabid raccoons,” I reply lamely while Leo turns away from us and squats down by the raccoons.
Jesus, STOP TALKING, PAYTON!
“Until they eat one of her pies and realize she poisoned them,” Bettie whispers from the other side of me.
I give her a quick jab to the ribs with my elbow right before Leo stands back up and turns to face us with the pie plate in his hand.
“Emma Jo, isn’t this one of yours? Looks like they ate whatever was in it and then just keeled over,” he states, bringing the plate up closer to his face to inspect it.
“What? No! That’s definitely not one of mine. It’s yellow, and I hate the color yellow,” Emma Jo quickly replies. “All of my pie plates are in my kitchen and accounted for, and I definitely don’t have any yellow ones!”
Leo flips the plate over in his hands and then tips the underside in our direction with another raise of one eyebrow, and we can all see clear as day an engraving stamped on the bottom of the plate that says Property of Emma Jo Jackson. I see Bettie shake her head and bow it out of the corner of my eye, and I wait for her to toss her hands up in the air and call us idiots.
“What Emma Jo meant to say is that she hasn’t always hated the color yellow, isn’t that right?” I ask, turning my head and widening my eyes for her to fix this before it gets more out of hand than it already is.
“Right!” she quickly pipes up. “It was more of a recent decision, actually. I read an article in Good Housekeeping that yellow dishes cause cancer, so I threw out every dish I owned that was yellow.”
“And these raccoon friends of yours just pulled it out of the trash and dragged it into the woods so they could bake their own little raccoon pies?” Leo asks, narrowing his eyes at Emma Jo and then sliding the same questioning glare in my direction.
“Right! Exactly! And look at that, they probably died from cancer. I feel so much better now about throwing out all of those yellow dishes, don’t you, Payton?” Emma Jo asks.
I just nod my head like an idiot, already feeling like the lowest of the low for not telling Leo about the pie, quickly feeling much worse about the whole thing the deeper and dumber I go with more lies, especially with the way he’s looking at me right now. Like he doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth and he doesn’t know whether to be hurt or pissed after what happened between us in the last twenty-four hours.
“Sheriff, if you’ll excuse us, we need to make sure all of the yellow dishes have definitely been removed from the kitchen, just in case. Also, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could get rid of those poor raccoons for me,” Emma Jo tells Leo with a smile as she grabs my arm and pulls me quickly toward the house.
Bettie takes one last glance at a pissed-off-looking Leo and then makes a run for it, jogging to catch up with us.
“PAYTON!” Leo roars from the woods when we get to the side corner of the house.
“SORRY! CAN’T TALK NOW! I’VE GOT CANCER TO CURE!” I shout back to him over my shoulder, watching him stand there by the dead raccoons with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, until Emma Jo yanks harder on my arm to get me to move faster and we disappear around the side of the house.
“Jesus God, how have you two not been arrested yet?” Bettie complains when we get to the front of the house.
“Shut your face, do you know what this means?!” Emma Jo asks her excitedly when we stop at the top of the front porch.
“That you probably won’t get the death penalty because you’ll fail the psych evaluation?” Bettie replies dryly.
“No, this means we officially didn’t kill my husband with a poisoned blueberry pie!” she answers, clapping her hands together like a toddler while jumping up and down happily.
Her words take a few seconds to sink in and dig their way past all the guilt and when they do, I forget about feeling bad for keeping things from Leo and I join Emma Jo in her happy dance, grabbing her hands and bouncing up and down with her.
I quickly put an end to my squeals of delight when something else occurs to me.
“Wait, but that means we’re still responsible for killing two innocent creatures,” I remind Emma Jo sadly.
She immediately stops bouncing around and her arms fall to her sides.
“They were really cute and cuddly, too,” she adds with a frown.
“They were two rabies-infested, fly-covered, rotting carcasses who were dumb enough to steal a poisoned pie from your kitchen windowsill, drag it into the woods, and inhale it!” Bettie reminds us.
A slow smile spreads across Emma Jo’s face as she turns to Bettie.
“Yes, but they gave up their sweet, cuddly lives to prove our innocence, and Payton and I need time to mourn them. Also, they were not a thirty-two-year-old abusive man and former mayor of this town, which means Payton and I aren’t murderers!”
We give each other a high-five and Bettie sighs loudly, shaking her head at us once again.
“So, that means there’s still a killer out there, walking the streets of this Podunk town. I don’t know what scares me more, thinking you two idiots could have killed someone or not having any idea if some random stranger I met in town did it. I need a drink,” Bettie grumbles, moving away from us to open the front door.
“I’ll get the wine!” Emma Jo announces as we follow Bettie inside the house. “Every time someone says the words dead raccoons, everyone drinks!”
CHAPTER 30
Recorded Interview
June 5, 2016
Bald Knob, KY Police Department
Deputy Lloyd: Franny, you can’t just go around changing official documents from the County Commissioner’s office. Do I need to remind you this is a murder investigation?
Franny Mendleson: And do I need to remind you there are thirty-seven questions the good people of Bald Knob deserve to know the answers to?
Deputy Lloyd: About Sheriff Hudson’s love life?
Franny Mendleson: It’s the most horrible thing to happen to this town in my sixty-seven years!
Deputy Lloyd: The murder of Mayor Jackson wasn’t horrible?
Franny Mendleson: I meant, horrible for the single women of this town, obviously.
Deputy Lloyd: Franny, Sheriff Jackson and who he may or may not be seeing has nothing to do with our investigation, and I can’t have you messing things up with your need to know all the happenings in this town.
Franny Mendleson: It has everything to do with this investigation since he’s seeing a murderer! Or is it murderess? I can never remember which one.
Deputy Lloyd: Nothing has been confirmed and Payton has not been charged with any crime. You know that, since you work here and have typed up all the interviews, notes, and paperwork. We need to be focusing on the crime, not pointing fingers or wasting time with something that has no bearing on this case. I’m completely shocked that you would do something like this and not see the seriousness of the situation.
Franny Mendleson: Of course what happened to Jed Jackson is serious and terrible, but I have complete faith in the c
ompetence of this wonderful law enforcement agency that has employed me for forty years. With only one raise. And two measly weeks of vacation. I’m sure I won’t make the same mistake again, or do something silly like contact the County Commissioner’s office and tell them what’s going on.
Deputy Lloyd: I’ll speak to the sheriff about getting you a raise and another week of vacation time.
Franny Mendleson: While you’re at it, make sure he answers those questions. The people of Bald Knob need to know.
CHAPTER 31
I love people who make me laugh, make me think, and make me coffee. Not necessarily in that order.
—Coffee Mug
My eyes fly open when I hear a noise, immediately regretting that decision when the morning sun blinds me and my head starts to pound, reminding me I once again drank too much wine last night. I’ve officially corrupted Emma Jo and turned her into a wino, bringing me down with her.
I groan in pain as I roll from my stomach to my side and turn my head away from the window.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” I scream, bolting upright when I see Leo sitting silently on the edge of the bed, staring at me.
I bring my hand up to my aching head that hurts worse after being startled, sitting up too fast, and the ear-piercing sound of my own shout.
Thankfully, after Bettie, Emma Jo, and I disappeared into the house yesterday morning and started down the dark path of celebratory day drinking, Leo disposed of the dead raccoons and left without coming back in the house. He sent me several texts throughout the day and last night about how we were going to talk first thing in the morning, but I didn’t think he actually meant first-first thing in the morning. I thought he’d be nice enough to let me wake up first, grab some coffee, and get rid of my hangover like a decent human being. When I didn’t reply to any of his texts because…day drinking, which led to afternoon drinking, which then led to night drinking, followed up by a return of my guilty conscience, he sent one last cryptic text. Right before I dragged my drunk ass upstairs and passed out and after Bettie, Emma Jo, and I went over our murder suspect list and added a few more names now that we knew we weren’t guilty, I got a message from Leo that just said, “Know where I can get a good piece of pie?”
Let’s just say, it’s a good thing wine makes me sleepy and Emma Jo said the words “dead raccoon” enough times that the three of us went through an entire case of the stuff, otherwise I would have tossed and turned all night worrying about that damn text.
And now, here Leo is, sitting on the edge of the bed looking way too edible in his crisp, clean sheriff’s uniform, staring at me without saying a word until it starts getting uncomfortable.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I ask, trying to be annoyed so he doesn’t know I’m two seconds away from shitting my pants.
“Would it creep you out if I said yes?” he asks in his deep, baritone voice that makes my insides all melty and my ovaries start handing out invitations for another party.
“Probably,” I confirm with a nod, pulling the sheet up to cover my chest since I feel too exposed sitting this close to him wearing nothing but a black lacey bra and matching thong.
Which is stupid, considering this man has seen me naked several times, but not in his sheriff’s uniform and not when he was acting like a sheriff. He was just Leo then. Now I feel like I’m in trouble with the way he’s looking at me all seriously in that uniform, and at least with a little bit of cover from the sheet I don’t feel so powerless. I know, it’s stupid, but sheets have power, trust me. The only reason no one has been attacked by the monster under their bed is because they were covered up with a sheet. It’s science, people.
“Then no, I wasn’t watching you sleep,” Leo finally responds. “I was listening to you TALK in your sleep.”
I scoff, tucking the sheet tighter around my chest.
“I do NOT talk in my sleep.”
“You talk a lot about pie in your sleep,” he confirms with a grin, making my stomach flop nervously. “Should I be concerned you’re dreaming about pie instead of me?”
The only thing that stops me from breaking down into a puddle of tears across his lap and begging him to forgive me is the cup of coffee I spot in his hands that he’s holding down by his knees.
“You should only be concerned if that cup of coffee in your hands isn’t for me,” I speak with false confidence, nodding in the direction of the cup instead of meeting his eyes.
He laughs softly, handing over the coffee. I forget about my need for sheet protection, letting it drop to my waist as I greedily grab the warm cup from his hands, moaning with satisfaction when I take my first sip.
“I know, it’s delicious. But don’t go falling in love with me just yet. I have to come clean. Bettie tried to show me how to work that machine, and I screwed it up so many times that she finally shoved me out of the way and made it herself. She scares me,” Leo admits with a shudder.
I don’t hear a word he says because I’m too busy focusing on the whole “falling in love with me” comment, wondering why in the hell I’m not making a run for it and jumping out of the second-story window to safety. I don’t want to fall in love again. Love is dumb. Love makes you do stupid things like spend five years with a man who doesn’t understand your passion and then won’t take no for an answer when you try to end things. I don’t want to be in love again and it should be the funniest idea in the world that Leo would suggest such a thing, even if he is joking.
Why isn’t it funny? WHY ISN’T IT FUNNY, DAMMIT?! And why does my heart start beating faster when I think about how easy it would be to fall in love with him?
“That really is the best coffee I’ve ever had. I’ll get the hang of Baby Cecil, don’t you worry. We’ll get to know each other, build some trust, and he’ll be pouring out your Liquid Crack for me in no time,” Leo reassures, making my inside do that melty thing all over again because he understands Baby Cecil’s temperament and understands the importance of using him for decent coffee and he just plain understands me. Benjamin used to roll his eyes whenever Bettie and I referred to the coffee machines by their names, refusing to use them himself because it was “juvenile”.
“Speaking of Bettie, where is she? I usually hear her banging around and screaming about being up at an ungodly hour whenever she has to help me open Liquid Crack,” I tell him with another sip of coffee when I notice how incredibly quiet the house is.
“Beats me,” Leo says with a shrug. “Emma Jo opened the door and then dragged Bettie outside after she let me in saying they had something important to do. They looked like they were up to something, but I didn’t have time to chase after them and demand answers. I’m too busy doing that with you.”
I slowly lower the coffee cup from my mouth guiltily and lean over to place it on the nightstand, realizing the time has come to spill the beans. Well, the pie, if you want to get technical.
“Before I say anything, can you please remove the Taser from your utility belt and place it a safe enough distance away?” I ask him.
He laughs, but quickly stops when he sees the serious look on my face.
He sighs, looks up at the ceiling quietly for a few minutes, probably praying to God for more strength to deal with my crazy, then removes the Taser gun from his belt and slides it onto the nightstand next to my coffee.
“Good?” he asks.
“It’s still within reach, but you’d have to lean forward and that will give me at least a few seconds head start,” I shrug, staring over at the Taser like it’s going to jump up from the table on its own and attack me.
“Payton, look at me. What’s going on?”
Taking a deep breath, I force my eyes to his. He scoots closer to me on the edge of the bed, grabbing both of my hands from my lap and tugging me toward him.
“Talk to me. I know something is going on with you. No more avoiding me. Talk,” he orders in a soft voice, letting go of one of my hands to brush a few strands of hair out of my eyes and tuck them behind my ear. br />
“So, the pie plate you found in the woods by the dead raccoons yesterday really was Emma Jo’s, but you already know that since her stupid name was stamped on the bottom of it,” I explain with a roll of my eyes, remembering how ridiculous we behaved yesterday in the woods.
Taking another fortifying deep breath, I spit out everything else in one never ending sentence before I lose my nerve and try to distract him with sex again. Something tells me it might not work this time. Leo is in uniform and he means business.
“We baked a blueberry pie in it the night Jed was killed, but not just any blueberry pie. It might have had an entire bottle of Lysol Toilet Bowl Cleaner mixed in, and we had a lot of wine that night and left it on the kitchen windowsill to cool, and the next morning it was gone, and then Jed’s body was found in the backyard, and we freaked out thinking he took the pie and ate it and then died in the backyard, and then Buddy came over and said it smelled like someone had baked a blueberry pie, and we freaked out even more, and then the whole town started blaming me for the murder, and we heard some rumors about people in town getting into arguments with Jed, so we made a list of other possible murder suspects in case it turned out we didn’t really kill him with a poisoned pie, but I couldn’t get any of the suspects or anyone else in town to talk to me because they hate me, and then you found the dead raccoons and the pie plate, and we were so happy to find out we didn’t kill Jed with a poisoned pie that we drank way too much wine last night while going back over our murder suspect list,” I finish, taking in a gasping breath of air and letting it out with a whistle. “Whew, so, that’s that. Want me to make you some breakfast?”
I look at him hopefully, realizing quickly when I see a muscle tick in his jaw that I won’t be able to distract him with sex OR slop. He’s back to staring at the ceiling and he does it for so long that I start to worry his head exploded or his heart gave out, going by how silent and still he is.