A Vision of Murder (13 page)

“It’s chilly now, but it
will heat right up this afternoon. The weatherman said so. My goodness, Sissy,
you’ve lived in the South your whole life. Don’t you know the weather by now?”

Sissy stared at Mrs. Dodd,
her mouth slightly open.

“I believe I know the
weather quite well…” she began, but the older lady interrupted her again.

“Then you know someone of my
age shouldn’t be out in such heat,” Mrs. Dodd replied shortly. She settled her
handbag on her lap and stared straight ahead. Her conscience bothered her for a
minute. She did hate being so unkind to poor Sissy. But the only way to get her
to do something she didn’t want to do after she got that determined expression
on her face was to keep her distracted.

“Oh, this is a bad idea,”
Sissy fretted, turning the car on without noticing. “I
promised
Lorene I
wouldn’t let anything happen to you while she was gone. I feel so responsible.”

She started down the road out
of force of habit, still muttering to herself, “We should just go back in the
house and fix something to drink. I have a nice mystery that I brought. We
could watch it together.” She looked hopefully over at Mrs. Dodd.

“How would you feel about
being in a real mystery?” Mrs. Dodd asked, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh, now, I wouldn’t like
that. I wouldn’t like that at all!” Sissy’s voice rose almost to a wail and a
panicked look on her face.

Mrs. Dodd’s face held an
expression of disgust.
“Why not?”

“Because!
Oh, so many reasons.
Danger, scandal, gossip, and policemen!”
Her eyes widened
with each word. “You know how scared I am of policemen.”

Mrs. Dodd nodded. “That I
do. You mention it nonstop. You don’t seem to be scared of any of the local
policemen. Can’t this car go any faster?”

Sissy stepped on the gas,
urging the old car on down the road. “They’re not real policemen!” she
protested.

“You’re right about that.”
Mrs. Dodd muttered.

Sissy rattled on, “I’ve
known most of them since they were in diapers and the new ones aren’t that
scary once you get to know them.” Sissy made it a point to try at least once to
get to know anyone that ventured into her small town.

“Let’s just go back in the
house,” she pleaded.

“Why don’t you want to go to
the jail?” Mrs. Dodd asked, searching her purse for a mirror.

“Well, for one thing, there
are quite a bit of policemen there!” Sissy exclaimed. “And for another, it’s
almost in Chattanooga. That’s
miles
away.” Her soft voice was
distressed. Mrs. Dodd felt guilty again.

“I remember when you were
young. Why, you used to go to Chattanooga all the time.”

“Well, it’s changed since
then. There’s so much traffic now. They just whiz by me. It makes me so
nervous.” She scratched at her neck, shifting nervously in her seat as if
expecting a car to run them over that very instant. “And Lorene…” she finished.
She had held a deep seated fear of Lorene for years now.
Ever
since the child was born, in fact.
She thought it was because Lorene had
always seemed older than Sissy somehow. Sissy always felt she was struggling to
keep up.

“Did Lorene tell you
not
to go out of town with me?”

“
Noooo
…”
Sissy said, as if Mrs. Dodd were dragging it out of her.

“Well, then,” Mrs. Dodd
replied.

“But I’m sure it’s only
because I haven’t gone out of town in years! She didn’t think of it.” Sissy
turned wide, frightened eyes towards Mrs. Dodd.

“Then she can’t complain of
it, can she?” Mrs. Dodd said shortly. “Why, are you
scared
of Lorene,
Sissy?
A grown woman like you.”

“Why, yes, I am. And I’m not
too embarrassed to admit it.”

“I’m not,” Mrs. Dodd said
shortly.

“That’s because she’s your
daughter,” Sissy replied, smacking one hand against the wheel.

“No, it’s not,” Mrs. Dodd
said.

Sissy stared at her a moment
before jerking her eyes back towards the road. “I guess you’re not.” She said
softly.

Mrs. Dodd sensed the shame
in her friend’s voice. “Do you know,” she asked Sissy, “one way I’ve dealt with
Lorene all these years?”

“What’s that?” Sissy’s voice
was quiet.

“For one thing, she doesn’t
know half the things I do!” Mrs. Dodd said triumphantly, grinning at Sissy.

Sissy felt a chill run down
her spine. Mrs. Dodd’s grin looked borderline evil. The older lady cackled
suddenly, her elfin face cracking in two with laughter.

Sissy stared back at the
road for a moment before joining in. “Are you saying you won’t tell her if I
don’t?”

“That’s what I’m saying,”
Mrs. Dodd laughed.

Sissy smiled, then began to
giggle. “You know I can’t keep a secret, Velma!” Her friend’s penchant for
trouble was showing again. It reminded her of when they were young.

“I know!” Velma hooted.

“But maybe I’ll be able to
if my butt is on the line!” Sissy said shortly. The two old women laughed for a
good mile.

“Distracted not by one”

“What am I supposed to do?”
Sissy wailed as Mrs. Dodd closed the door. She leaned down, peering through the
window.

Sissy was clenching the
steering wheel, the panicked look back on her face.

“Just wait here,” Mrs. Dodd
said.

“But…” Sissy started to
protest so Mrs. Dodd unclasped her handbag and dug inside. Extracting a mystery
from its depths, she tossed it to Sissy. “Here, read this until I get back.”
Turning, she marched away quickly.

It took several minutes of
convincing, but she was finally able to get through with a few well-placed
fibs. She waited impatiently for the prisoner to be ushered through to the spot
in front of her.

He settled into the seat
across from her. Although his hair was cut short, it still managed to have a
scraggly air about it. His eyes were a dark brown and hollow, with dark circles
smudged underneath. He settled wearily in the chair, facing her with a
calculating expression.

“Who are you?” he asked
curtly.

“Mrs. Dodd,” she replied
shortly.

A small grin began at the
corner of his mouth. “Mrs. Dodd?
Never heard of you.”

“I’m here investigating.”

“Investigating what?” A
sardonic humor seemed to have overtaken him.

“Murder.
Several
murders, in fact.”

The grin fled from his face,
wiped off cleanly. “What do you want with me then?” Although he was still
slouched in his chair, he was now paying attention. That was exactly what Mrs.
Dodd wanted.

She stared at him and he
continued, “I haven’t had anything to do with any murders. If you’ve noticed,
I’m already in jail.”

“I want to ask you some questions.”

“About
what?”
Suspicion gleamed in his eyes.

“About
your wife.”

He swallowed, glancing away
from Mrs. Dodd.

“I don’t want to talk about
her,” he said. His hands were fidgeting. He strove to keep them still after he
noticed Mrs. Dodd glancing at them.

“This is quite important,
Richard.”

“I don’t talk about it,” he
said, starting to rise.

“Two girls have been found
dead.” He froze, staring at her. “I’m not accusing you of anything, but if you
answer a few questions for me, it might help catch the killer.”

He stood still, one hand
grasping the back of the chair.

“Don’t you owe it to her?”
Mrs. Dodd asked quietly. She hoped fervently that he would stay.

He stared down at the floor
silently before slowly lowering himself into the chair. “What do you want to
know?” he asked quietly.

“What happened the night
your wife died?”

“It’s in all the records.
You should be able to find it.”

“I want you to tell me.”

He shrugged, still staring
at the floor, his head hanging, “I drank that night. I get real mean when I
drink. Just like my daddy used to.” He smiled again, a twisted, ironic smile.

Mrs. Dodd waited while he
sorted through whatever demons were haunting him. Studying his hands, he
finally continued, “I drank a lot. She used to beg me not to.”

The second hand ticked
slowly around the clock overhead, “And then?” Mrs. Dodd prodded gently.

“We got in a fight. I don’t
remember what it was about. I beat her up… pretty bad,” he choked out the last
part of his sentence. “I didn’t mean to,” he hurried to add.

I’m sure you didn’t
, Mrs. Dodd thought,
you’re
the type that never does.

“Then I left and went to the
bar. I stayed there for… a while.” He studied his hands again. “I meant to come
home earlier. I was worried about her.” He glanced up at Mrs. Dodd.

Lying
, she thought, studying his
eyes. They were shifty. He couldn’t hold her gaze. She suddenly felt
sympathetic for him in some way. He was
wishing
he had felt that way. He
was wishing that he had come home earlier, wishing that he had cared.

“But on the way home, I ran
out of gas. I stayed on the side of the road for a long time. I don’t know how
long exactly, before someone came by. I think it was a farmer or something, but
he had some gas in the back of his truck. Not much, but it was enough to get me
home. I came in and I almost went straight to the couch to sleep.
But…
I called for her. She didn’t answer. She was…” his
voice cracked slightly again, “she was dead.
Laying
in
our bed… dead.”

“What did you do then?”

“I… I got real scared. I
waited awhile, thinking about it. Then I called the police.”

“What time did she die?”

“They said she had been dead
about an hour.
From a head wound.”
He rubbed the side
of his head absently. “There was blood.” One hand reached out as if he was
pointing to it.
“All over the pillow.”

“Why did they suspect you
then?”

“My friends vouched for me.
They said I had just left the bar. But when the cops started asking them,
questioning them separately, they all admitted I had left much earlier. I
shouldn’t have ever said that.”

“Then you told them you ran
out of gas?”

He nodded. “Yes. But I
couldn’t provide a witness, could I? I don’t remember speaking to the guy that
stopped to help me.”

“What did he look like?”

Richard shrugged. “I don’t
remember. It was the middle of the night, raining a little. He was all covered
up. Most of the time, the lights from the truck were blinding me.”

“Why didn’t you tell them
that to start with?” Mrs. Dodd asked.

Richard just stared at her
angrily. “I was drunk.
Very, very drunk.

Mrs. Dodd cleared her throat
and tried another tactic. “Why did your friends cave?”

“A psychic said they were
lying. They admitted then that I wasn’t there.”

“What else did she say?”

He paused, no longer meeting
Mrs. Dodd’s gaze. “She said that I had run out of gas and that someone had come
by and helped me. She said I wasn’t lying. It was hard for her to read because
I had been drinking so much.”

“Did she say that you did
it?”

“She said that I had abused
my wife earlier and that my abuse had led to her death. I had been drinking a
lot. It had happened more than once.
Twice in public.
The police were called. One of them even
said,
when he
saw her… he said… that it had only been a matter of time.”

Mrs. Dodd nodded. “Do you
believe now that you killed her?”

“I do.” He
nodded, biting his lip. “I did hit her in the head a
few times that night. I… I had blood on my sleeve. The wound must have opened
later and she died in her sleep. I could… I could have
laid
down in that bed and slept next to her.
If I hadn’t turned on
the light.
I could have woken up next to her… like that.”

“You deserved it,” Mrs. Dodd
said shortly. “I think that psychic was right. You abusing her led to her
death.”

“How is this helping you?”
he asked angrily.

“What do you know about John
Carson White?”

“The serial killer?” he
asked, confused.

“Yes,” Mrs. Dodd said
stiffly. She didn’t like how he was looking at her, like she was an old fool.

He shrugged and slouched
back in the chair. “He killed a bunch of girls. I think he hid them in parks or
something.”

She nodded encouragingly at
him.

“What does that have to do
with me?” he said. His eyes narrowed and a challenging look came onto his face.

“Well, it looks as if your
wife died somewhere around the end of his crime spree. Did you ever wonder if
she was a victim of his?”

He stared at her a moment,
his mouth open and his eyes wide. After a momentary silence, he began to laugh,
low and long. “You must be crazy. My bed wasn’t exactly a state park, was it?”

“No, it’s not,” Mrs. Dodd
admitted. “But if the same person killed your wife as committed those murders
then she would have been the last victim. Until recently that is.”

“Where were those girls
found?” He raised his eyebrows curiously. He was interested now.

“I’m not supposed to reveal
any information,” Mrs. Dodd said pertly. She hoped he didn’t notice how white
her knuckles were on her purse straps as it rested in her lap.

He leaned forward, gazing
intently at her with a small smile around his lips. “Does anyone know you’re
here? Questioning me?”

She cleared her throat and
thought of Sissy out in the car.
“Yes, someone
does know I’m here.”

Richard scratched his beard,
then
leaned forward, his elbows resting on the long
shelf that divided him from Mrs. Dodd. “What do you think I’m doing? You think
I’ve got a partner out there, killing girls for me
?
Or that I know who it is? Maybe I even paid him to kill my wife for me?” He
grinned at her. “If that’s your theory, then it looks like I sure didn’t get my
money’s worth.”

“You’re up for parole in a
few years, aren’t you?” Mrs. Dodd asked. “Didn’t you do a plea? If you could
give more information to the police on another matter, it might help you to
your freedom a bit earlier, mightn’t it?”

Richard smirked and rubbed
his beard again. Leaning in close, he lowered his voice, “Listen, lady, I want
out of here.
Bad.
Anyone would want out of here. But
as far as I’m concerned, I killed my wife that night. Even if I don’t remember
much, I remember that we had quite a fight. That makes me a murderer, doesn’t
it?” He stood and beckoned a guard over. “I hope that helps you.”

She stayed seated, watching
him leave. He turned at the door and smiled grimly at her. “Whether it weighs
heavy on my conscience or not, if it makes me lie awake at night, well, that’s
none of your business, is it? You have a nice day.”

The sympathy she had felt
for him earlier vanished.

Mrs. Dodd marched stiffly
across the hot pavement to the waiting car. Her green skirt and matching
sweater were too warm for the midday sun. Sissy had rolled all the windows down
and propped her door open. She was turned sideways, facing away from Mrs. Dodd
with the paperback in her hand. She jumped and suppressed a small scream as
Mrs. Dodd wrenched the door open and tossed her purse angrily on the floor.
Pulling her sweater off as fast as her old bones would allow, she threw it
alongside the purse.

“What’s got you so tore up?”
Sissy asked around the hard candy she had been enjoying. Carefully, marking her
place, she put the book down and turned to face Mrs. Dodd.

“Sissy, I may as well admit
it to you.” Mrs. Dodd turned towards her old friend, grasping her arm with one
bony hand. “I am working a very important case. It’s more difficult than I ever
thought it would be. There are some things I just can’t seem to figure out.”

Sissy stared at Mrs. Dodd.
“I’ve always heard that Velma Dodd had quite a temper when she got riled up,
but in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you this upset. Not
since…” Sissy’s voice trailed off. She turned sharply to face ahead, unsure of
what to do.

“I know what you were going
to say Sissy. Not since Mary.” Mrs. Dodd waved her hand towards the road.
“That’s all in the past. Let’s go. Let’s find somewhere to have a bite to eat.
I’m tired and my brain isn’t working.”

“Why don’t you tell me? I’ll
help you any way I can,” Sissy added, happy that her friend had not reacted
negatively at Mary’s name. It hadn’t seemed to bother her at all.

Mrs. Dodd hesitated at this.
She knew how talkative Sissy was. Maybe if she just told her bits and pieces….

Mrs. Dodd decided to go over
the local murders, but left out the parts involving the serial killer.
If that got around town….
At the café, over tomato
sandwiches with chips, she went over her meeting with Richard.

“… and then he admitted he
murdered her. He left in a hurry after that. He said he didn’t know anything
about… anything else.”

“How
exciting?”
Sissy’s eyes sparkled. “There I was, reading a mystery in the car, while you
were inside talking to an actual murderer.” She lowered her voice and glanced
around suspiciously.

“No one here cares, Sissy.”

“But what’s so confusing?”

“It just doesn’t make
sense.”

 “It makes sense to me.
And besides, I know my cousin died like that. Head wound.” Sissy shook
her own
head despairingly. “She was hit in the head really
hard when she dived in the pond.
Smacked right on a rock.
We all thought she was fine, but she died hours later. I mean
hours
.”