Callisto (13 page)

You might think I'm putting my neck in a noose talking that way, incriminating talk, but I was doing it because they would not expect someone to say something that puts him in a bad light, so it makes me look even more innocent than I am.

Lorraine said, “With the coop over it keeping the sun off, that dirt'd stay fresh-looking and moist, and if the chickens stayed out of there that explains no chicken poop.”

“Okay,” says Andy, “but it doesn't explain why the heck someone dug a grave and then decided not to use it.”

“Well, maybe it was Dean that dug it to put Bree in, then he changed his mind for some reason and put her in the freezer instead.” Lorraine was doing her best to get their attention back on Dean, who's gone missing under Suspicious Circumstances as the saying goes. Andy kept looking at the dirt being shoveled back in the hole very rapid and thinking whatever cops think, most likely thoughts about why it was done and who's the one that did it.

“I'm thinking about turning this over to Homeland,” Andy said to Vine.

“Why?”

“This Muslim connection, I don't like it.”

“It's a little vague, don't you think?”

“Anyone that can kill his aunt over a religious argument has got it in him to be a terrorist. He hasn't come back from wherever he went, so I'm thinking he's with like-minded people. Homeland will know if there's a cell operating around here.”

“Here?” Vine made it sound like Andy thinks there's fairies in Callisto, Kansas.

“Why not.”

Now there's Homeland Security involved, and that's a big agency. Dean has started something here all right, and I have gone and watered his garden so to speak with my ten percent lies, but it's too late now to be backing away from all this. I figured it'll look good if I come to Dean's defense, going against the grain of what everyone else is thinking, because once again it makes me sound innocent. “Dean wouldn't be a
terrorist,” I said, “he's too much of a friendly type guy. Look at how he trusts me to do the lawnmowing without he hardly knows me. That's trusting, not mean. Terrorists are mean.”

Andy gave me a look and says, “He was mean enough to kill his aunt. That not mean enough for you, Odell?”

I said, “Maybe it was done by someone else we don't know about yet.”

I can tell they think I'm a fool for thinking something like that, but it's okay that they think that about me because it distracts them, which is my plan and they fell into the trap I laid because there was noplace else for the conversation to go after that.

When the hole was filled again the cops started getting ready to leave. They had Dean's shotgun with them in a plastic bag. Andy had a long talk with Lorraine first, then he comes over to me. “Odell, you're a key witness in this investigation, so you'll have to stick around awhile and be available for further questioning. Special agents will take you through it all again pretty soon. In the meantime if there's anything you remember that you didn't tell me already, call me anytime, it could be important.”

“How about that chicken coop? Think I should put it back over the dirt mound?”

“No, leave it like it is for now.”

There was more talking back and forth among the cops, then they got in their cop cars and drove away. Lorraine and me watched them go, then she turned to me and said, “That was good, Odell. You acted just right. You looked so guilty there I even thought you buried someone myself, then there's nothing in the hole and all you looked like was dumb. Brilliant!”

“I have to get ready for work. There's a lawn to get mowed at eleven.”

“You want to keep doing that?”

“When Dean comes back he'll appreciate that I kept the business going, otherwise his customers are gonna hire someone else to do the job and he'll have to start all over again.” I figure it's smart to talk about Dean like he's still alive, what you might call verbal camouflage.

“Odell,” she says, “that's sweet, but you know as well as I do that Dean won't be coming back here to mow lawns, if he even comes back at all. You do understand that he's the one killed Bree, don't you? I appreciate you standing by him like that, saying those things, but it's clear as day he's the one that did it and now he's on the run with a bunch of terrorists that'll do God knows what. But you keep on mowing those lawns, there's no reason not to, it's cash money that you can keep until I talk to them at the prison about a job. You're still interested in that, aren't you?”

“You bet.”

“Because after all this terrible business has blown over there's still real life to get back to for all of us, meaning a job of work that we have to do to pay the rent and put food on the table. That's what you want, right?”

“A steady job, that's all I want.”

“Well, maybe I can get that for you.” She turned and looked at the house. “This is my place now, Bree let me know awhile back she made out a will that says it's mine and Dean's after she dies, and somehow I don't think Dean's going to be collecting his half share.” She sighed this big sigh of sadness that shows what a sympathetic person she is, which are the best
kind to know. “Meantime I'd appreciate it if you'd stay on here and look after the place till I can move in. When this gets on the news there'll be people out here busting their necks to check out the murder scene, reporters too, can you handle that?”

“I'll just say No comment.”

“That'd be the best thing.” She laid a hand on my arm. “I really appreciate this, Odell, about the package and everything else. I'd hate to be going through all this embarrassment and publicity that's going to happen now without someone to help me out like you are.”

“No problem, I like to help people.”

She took her hand away. “I have to get to work. I'm already late but they'll be okay about it when I tell them what happened. I'm going to tell them about how you're helping me out here, Odell, and that'll stick in their mind like a character witness statement and maybe make it easier for you to get the job, that's what I'm hoping anyway.”

“Okay.”

“I'll call you tonight,” she says, getting in her car.

I watched her drive away, then checked my watch. It's a cheap one, $29.95, but it keeps good time. I still had an hour and eleven minutes till that first lawn needs to get mowed. First thing I did, I washed Dean's baseball bat good with soap and water in case there's forensic evidence stuck to it so small I can't see but which those smart folk at CSI can spot under laser beam light and so forth. Next thing I did, I went in the barn and got those lawnmowing gloves again, then fetched Dean down, smelling real bad now, and carried him around back and set him gentle on the ground. Then I dug out that
hole again in record time, the dirt has been shifted around so many times now it's loose as a goose. When it's standing empty again like before, I laid Dean down inside of it. I shoveled that dirt back again till it looked like it did when the cops finished with it, and so am I. I hope I never have to shovel dirt again I am so sick and tired of it now.

All that hard work gave me an appetite seeing as it was done with only half a packet of cookies to give me strength, so I went down to the basement to grab some breakfast. That's when I find the cops have investigated the scene without putting the frozen food back in the freezer, which is still standing with the lid open while the motor's running overtime trying to cope with the situation. How unprofessional is that! I picked what I wanted, blueberry waffles, and flung everything else back in the freezer before it gets even more thawed than it is and slammed the lid. I was so mad about what they did I let it spoil my breakfast enjoyment, but then I put it behind me like you have to when things are not going the way they should.

I had another quick shower and then I'm out the door and on my way to work like a regular citizen going about his job like always. This time I locked the door with the key Dean has got on his skull'n'bones key ring so nobody can get inside. It was a good start to the day.

T
here was five jobs that day which I took care of with a smile in my heart and on my face because I am so happy. If I keep doing the lawnmowing it means I'll still be at Dean's when Lorraine moves in there, which means her and me will be there together like we're married almost. I wanted that very much, being in love with her, which I decided between jobs two and three that I definitely am, so things are looking good. It's a tragedy about Dean being a murdering homosexual Muslim terrorist but there's nothing I can do about that. I put in a good word for him with Chief Webb and that's all I can do. I didn't want to think about Dean anymore, only Lorraine. If Dean was a dark cloud then Lorraine, she's the silver lining. I had impressed her this morning with my quick thinking that I displayed and she was grateful, I could tell, plus she told me to stick around. Okay, I'd have to do that anyway because of the investigation, but she wants me to anyway so that counts for plenty.

I collected two hundred and forty bucks for the mowing and drove home (that's how I'm thinking of Dean's place now) still with that smile on the inside and the outside of me, but that went away when I got there and the yard has got a van with
Channel 7
on the door and two people waiting for me. I parked in the barn and got out and they're right in my face with the camera carried by a guy and a mike carried by a woman.

She says, “Sir, what can you tell us about events that occurred here today?”

“No comment.”

“Are you the owner of this property? We couldn't help but notice there's a recent grave dug in the back yard. What do you have to say about that?”

“It isn't a grave it's a hole, and the police already dug it up and filled it again because there's nothing there, you can ask them.”

“We're asking you, sir.”

“If it was a crime scene back there I guess you'd see some yellow police tape like they have, wouldn't you? Well, where is it if it's a crime scene, huh?”

That was a smart thing to say but it didn't stop them.

“We're told that a woman has been murdered here and her body found in a basement freezer. What can you tell us about that?”

“No comment.”

I pushed past her and headed for the porch but she kept up with me, trotting sideways to do it and the camera guy kept up too. It was very irritating the way they just wouldn't quit. “Sir, Channel Seven News has learned that a terrorist cell is thought
to be operating in this area. Can you comment on a possible connection between that and this incident of murder?”

“Nope, no connection that I know of.”

I was at the steps by then and they followed me up, only the camera guy missed his footing halfway up and tripped himself. He made a squawk as he went down, trying to keep the camera from hitting anything and getting busted, and the distraction when she turned to him was enough for me to get inside and close the door on them. They knocked and Helloed but no way was I letting them in to ask more questions. I went to the back and looked out the window but the grave was okay, they hadn't messed with it, but I bet they got plenty of footage for the evening report. Lorraine was not going to be happy about this.

They hung around another twenty minutes, then just as they're getting ready to leave another van comes up the driveway and into the yard. This one was Channel Nine. The two teams talked a few minutes then the Seven people departed the scene and the Niners banged on the door. “Hello? Sir, we're informed you're in there! What can you tell us about what's happened here? Sir?”

“I don't know a goddamn thing!” I yelled through the door.

“What did you tell that other bunch? We have a right to the same information!”

“I'll tell you everything I know for a thousand bucks!”

“Sir, Channel Nine News does not conduct checkbook journalism!”

“That's okay, cash is fine!”

“That isn't how it's done, sir, I'm sure you're aware of that!”

“Fifty bucks!”

I waited, then two tens and a twenty come sliding under the door. I picked it up and opened the door and threw the money out. “Now do you believe I don't know a goddamn thing?”

I slammed the door shut again and locked it. I could hear them talking, then their footsteps went down the steps and I knew where they're headed. I watched through the back window while they aimed their camera at the grave, then at the house, then they got tired of waiting or maybe they wanted to make the early news deadline, anyway they drove off and I could relax at last unless Channel Twelve comes around.

The phone rang. I let it ring, thinking most likely it's the news wanting to know when they can interview me, but a ringing telephone is a powerful irritation so in the end I answered it, only I didn't say anything. If it was the news, they weren't even getting a single word out of me.