Fran Rizer - Callie Parrish 06 - A Corpse Under the Christmas Tree (24 page)

I asked Otis and Mrs. Corley to step over to the side and told them about Rizzie’s offer to set up a road-side stand and serve miniature Shrimp Po Boys to the people in Patsy’s funeral procession. Mrs. Corley glowed, and Otis beamed.

“Can we have the funeral day after tomorrow?” Mrs. Corley asked. “I want to use your chapel, but have my pastor and our church organist. I called both of them before we came over here, and each of them can do the service on January third.”

“What time?” Odell asked.

“About eleven?” Mrs. Corley said. “That way we’ll be passing Gastric Gullah around noon. Tell the owner I’d like each person served a soda also.”

“Would you like to have a visitation? We could do that at ten if you like.”

“That will be fine. Do I need to go by there and pay Gastric Gullah in advance?”

“Not necessary,” Odell assured her. “We’ll pay Miss Profit and add it to your funeral bill. I’ll call her and work out the details. The insurance policy you showed me will cover everything.”

The Corley family left with what passes for smiles on the faces of people who’ve lost someone they love.

“Callie, didn’t you say you’ve got today off?” I was in no mood to answer Frankie’s question. He’d called while I was in the shower, and, thinking it might be Patel or Dean, I’d jumped out and tracked water from the bathroom to my phone on the nightstand.

“Yes, but I’m not doing anything for you today. I’m taking the day for myself. There are things I need to do, and I’ll be working tomorrow at Patsy Corley’s funeral.”

“I don’t want you to do anything
for
me. I want to
give
you something.”

“What?”

“Remember I said I’m going to school today?”

“Yes, and then you acted like a jerk and wouldn’t tell me what kind of school.”

“Well, I’ve been worried about you and Jane finding a dead body on your porch, and even before that, it seems like you get into trouble all the time.” The hair on the back of my neck hackled at that comment, but I didn’t say anything. “Well, I knew you nor Jane would want me staying overnight with you, even though I’m hoping Jane and I will wind up back together. I’ve been rigging up a hammock in the back of that old van Pa has down by the barn.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I’m going to sleep in the hammock in your front yard, so if anybody comes to bother you or Jane, I’ll be there to protect you.”

“I don’t think Jane will like that, but I still don’t know what it has to do with school.”

“Well, I figure I need to be able to carry a gun to protect you and Jane, so I’m taking the class to get a CWP.”

“What’s that?”
 

“Concealed Weapon Permit. South Carolina requires a day-long class before anyone gets a permit. My friend Ralph and I signed up and paid to take the class.”

“So what does that have to do with me being off today?”

“Ralph got arrested for DUI Tuesday night. Nobody’s bailed him out, so he can’t take the class.”

“I doubt they’d let him take it with a DUI hanging over his head even if someone got him out of jail, but I still don’t know what that has to do with me.”

“The class we paid for requires ten people to be signed up or they put it off. The instructor called and said our class would be postponed unless we find someone to take Ralph’s place. It cost a hundred dollars, and Ralph says if you’ll go, you won’t have to pay him back. In fact, he said if you’d take his place, he’ll treat you to dinner one night when he’s out of jail.”

“Oh, no!” I knew Frankie’s buddy Ralph. He’d asked me out before, and I’d always declined. Adding a DUI to his previous list of accomplishments did nothing to change my mind about dating him.

“Think about it, Callie. I don’t know what you did for the day or so you were working with Wayne, but as much as you stick your nose into the sheriff’s business, it might be to your advantage to have a Concealed Weapon Permit. What else did you have planned for today?”

“I need to clean the apartment.”

“And you’d rather do that than go shooting at the indoor shooting range with everything already paid? Ralph even ordered the catered lunch, so you’ll eat free, too. Besides, you’d be doing a really big favor for your favorite brother.”

That was an outright lie. Frankie is closest to me in age, but my favorite has always been my oldest brother John. I didn’t agree until after some real bribery in the form of Frankie promising to take down my Christmas tree and clean my apartment.

We had to be at the indoor shooting range by nine o’clock, so I told him, “If I don’t get off the telephone, I won’t be ready.”

“You have to wear pants with loops and a wide belt so the holster will fit. I’ll bring everything you need—gun, holster, and ammo.”

• • •

Frankie showed up driving the beat-up van from Daddy’s yard. I didn’t even know it would run. He’d made some efforts to turn it into a camper with a portable gas stove, an ice chest, a lantern, and that hammock he’d told me about.

When I got in, Frankie handed me a brochure. “Read this.” I began looking it over silently. “Read what we get for our money out loud,” he instructed.

“What do you mean
our
money? I’m not spending any.”

“I told Ralph that after you saw what a good day this will be, you might decide to reimburse him, but you don’t have to.”

“I’m not. Here’s what it says we’ll be learning:
firearm construction and operation; ammunition construction, identification and ballistics; safety rules; fundamentals of firearm shooting and storage; South Carolina firearm laws and use of deadly force restrictions; range instruction and demonstrations.
Then they offer assistance in filling out the application for the permit.”

“All that and free lunch. What more could you ask for on your day off? Besides, this will be a breeze for you.”

Frankie was probably right. I’d been brought up around guns in a family of hunters, and though I hadn’t been hunting since the first time I’d seen a deer killed, I enjoy target shooting.

When we pulled into Hoyt’s Indoor Shooting Range’s parking lot, Frankie and I locked our holsters, guns, and ammunition in the truck and joined a group of people just inside the door. I silently counted them—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. I thought they had to have ten. Then I realized that I was number ten.
Duh.

I was surprised to see Walter Corley in the group. I waved at him. He waved back and then stepped over to where Frankie and I stood.

“Guess you might think it’s a little unusual for me to be here taking this class the day before my sister’s funeral, but I’d signed up before any of that happened. It’s probably a good idea anyway. I keep wondering if Snake’s family is going to come after any of us Corleys since Patsy killed him.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” I answered. “It’s not like Patsy shot Snake and she’s out dancing and having a good time now. She’s dead, too.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to believe she’s gone forever. Maw was so afraid we was gonna have to have a closed casket, but you fixed Patsy up fine.”

“Otis and Odell always do their best.”

“Her pink suit looked fine, too. Maw let me pick out what Patsy would wear, but, of course, when I picked it, we didn’t know anyone would get to see her.”

“You did a good job. The outfit’s very pretty on her.”

The instructor called us into a classroom. I was kind of glad that Walter didn’t sit near Frankie and me. I didn’t want to think about the reconstruction of his sister’s head anymore. In fact, I’d like to think about it less. Classes filled the morning and ended with a written test. As we finished our answer sheets, we dropped them off with the teacher and went back into the lobby where those who’d ordered them picked up box lunches. Some folks had brought their own meals, and I was envious of those with fried chicken when I opened the box and found we had an apple, a bag of baked chips, and a sliced turkey sandwich. I like turkey okay, but we’d just eaten a whole lot of it at Christmas. I wondered if these sandwiches were made out of somebody’s Christmas leftovers.

The afternoon raced by like Dale Earnhardt on a Nascar track. First, we received our scores on the written test. Only one person had failed and couldn’t continue with the course. Everyone went to their vehicles and returned with weapons. The instructor inspected each gun and ammunition before we were allowed back into the facility. Individual firing evaluations followed range demonstrations and instruction. Both Frankie and I passed. I declined the offer of help with the CWP application. I spend a lot of time at work completing applications for death certificates and filling out insurance forms, and I didn’t really think I cared to spend fifty dollars to actually get a permit anyway.

I saw Walter Corley across the lot as Frankie and I walked to the van. Walter speed-walked over to me.

“Callie,” he said, “was Jeff Morgan’s funeral handled by Middleton’s?”

“Yes, it was last Saturday, the day it snowed.”

“I don’t read the newspapers much, and I didn’t know about it until yesterday. That’s sad that Jeff and Patsy died so close together.”

“Were they connected in some way?”

“Yes, Jeff dated Patsy while he dated Amber Clark. Patsy was heartbroken when she found out she wasn’t the only one he was seeing then.”

“You know Amber’s dead, too, don’t you?”

“My sister Penny told me she was found dead on your front porch. Reckon whoever killed her put her there so you’d see that she got to the funeral home?”

“I don’t know why she was on my porch. So Jeff dated both of them at the same time?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if Amber knew about Patsy. I doubt my sister even knew Jeff Morgan had died. That business with Jeff was years ago, and, irregardless of how it turned out, Patsy was better off not to get tied up with Jeff Morgan. He drank too much, and me and my sisters and brothers had enough of that from Paw.”

“I guess so,” I said and cringed at his use of the non-word
irregardless.

I stuck my foot in my mouth big time with my next question. “How did Patsy and Snake get along?” The words were barely out of my mouth before I realized what a ridiculous question that was. She shot the man, killed him. That sure didn’t mean they had a peaceful, loving relationship.

“They fought all the time. I don’t mean like hitting each other, but fussed and argued about everything. Patsy was always a little round, but she was a pretty woman with a sweet personality. Back when Paw had the club open, Patsy worked there on weekends and met tons of men. She dated a lot of them. I don’t know for sure if she and Snake hooked up back then and got back together after her divorce or ran into each other when she was here visiting and started something new. After they began staying together, I hated to go to family dinners and reunions because no matter where they were, they’d wind up screaming at each other. To be honest wid’ja, I wasn’t surprised one of them murdered the other. I just never figured Patsy would kill him. I thought Snake would get fed up with the hollering and do something to my sister one day. I used to worry about that sometimes.”

I said what I’ve been trained to say: “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You people at Middleton’s did a good job. Maw was really afraid there was no way to fix Patsy decent enough to be seen.”

“We always try. No matter how much somebody talks about closure, there’s no real closure when someone dies a violent death, but Otis and Odell feel strongly that seeing their loved ones looking peaceful helps survivors through the ordeal.” I sounded like a grief brochure. Probably because I’d learned that from one of them.

Frankie interrupted with, “We’ve gotta go. Pa’s expecting us to eat leftovers from yesterday tonight.”

Normally, I’d object when one of my brothers intruded when I was talking, but I was glad Frankie’s interruption gave me an excuse to leave Walter. Being with him made me so sad.

I called the animal ER as we left Hoyt’s and asked about Big Boy.

“He’s much better. Dr. Kirk said you can pick him up whenever you want.”

Now it was my turn to plead. “Come on, Frankie, I gave you my day off. Take me to Beaufort to pick up Big Boy. He’ll be more comfortable in this van than in my car.”