Nuts and Buried (25 page)

“Billy got out three months ago. Could there be a connection between them?” I asked.

Hunter shook his head. “This Voorhees was in Folsom, making license plates, I guess.”

“And the sheriff?” Meemaw asked in a hurry, almost out of breath. “What's he want us to do?”

“He says there is no ‘us.' He wants you two women to go home and let me take care of it from here on in. He's calling in backup.”

“You call him right back and tell him these ‘two women' aren't pulling out now. Whatever we've got to do, we'll do it together. We've come too far—”

Meemaw was mad. “Could be Elizabeth's already dead. Then we've got to get out to the Chaunceys'. Jeannie's next.”

Hunter looked from Meemaw to me. I could see by his face that he knew he didn't have a choice.

“We better get going,” he said, gathering the box of cartridges and the papers he wanted to take along. He tucked the rifle case under his arm. “You have to drive, Miss Amelia. Can't get up that drive of the Chaunceys' without a cloud of dust warning them somebody's coming. Don't want this Voorhees guy to see us in a police vehicle, if that's where he's at.”

We stopped at his car long enough for him to get his own rifle from the rack behind the driver's seat. He called Harner back and told him to get somebody over there to pick up his squad car and said where we were headed.

“Here!” Hunter shouted at me when we were half a mile in on the Chaunceys' road. “Let me out. I don't want 'em knowing I'm anywhere around.”

I slowed, so as not to be seen stopping.

“We'll call if his car's up there,” Meemaw promised as Hunter slid out of the backseat, through the half-opened door and to the ground, kind of rolling down into an arroyo. I started moving just a little faster, giving him more dust for cover.

Meemaw reached over and put her hand on mine. “I hope we're not too late. God only knows how many people he could have killed by now.”

I looked back at her, my throat tightening. “We've got his gun.”

“You think killers only have one?”

“What else can we do?”

She shook her head. “We could wait until the sheriff gets enough deputies together to come out and surround the
place, but by that time he'll be gone, if he's here. By then he will have killed everybody he came to town to kill, plus a few more—like us, I'd say.”

I didn't have anything to add, just drove slowly until I could see the house, standing on its rise backed by the pecan groves. There was a car in front. Franklin's white rental. Meemaw saw it at the same time and ducked down to call Hunter.

“You think he brought Elizabeth with him?” I asked Meemaw.

“Kind of feel that's the way it's going to go now. Two birds with one stone. The last of the Wheatleys.” When she turned back to me, there were tears in her eyes. “Oh, my child, I wish I could go in there alone.”

I had no voice. My throat was tight. I could only croak out, “I've got the same wish, Meemaw. Wish I hadn't gotten you into any of this.”

We got out of the car, but before we could get on the porch, the door opened and Melody stepped out. As I started up the steps, I not only tried to read Melody's face, but was also looking around for Hunter. He'd been running the last I saw him. I'd driven slowly. He should be somewhere close by.

“Land's sakes, come on in, you two. We was just sayin' we thought somebody was coming up the road.”

I tried to read the elderly, wrinkled face and got nowhere. She didn't seem to be looking directly at us, kind of off to the side, saying things to be saying things.

“See you got company, Melody.” Meemaw walked close beside me.

“Sure do. Just serving everybody a cold drink and cookies. Come on in. Come on in.” Melody turned to wave us into the house, and as she did, she rolled her eyes at me. Some kind of signal, but I had no clue what it meant.

Melody held the door open. “Elizabeth Wheatley's here. And that friend of hers, Peter Franklin. You know, that scientist. Guess
you
know him, don't you, Lindy?”

I nodded, not ready to trust my voice.

Before I went inside, I looked around at the empty land in front of me, hoping to see Hunter. It seemed nobody was out there for miles and miles.

Melody went on talking at a great rate as I walked in and got a load of who was gathered around the twins' table. Billy Truly sat at the far side and I was happy to see him though his face was grim. Jeannie sat close beside her brother. At one end of the table, chairs pulled together, sat Peter Franklin, one hand wrapped in a bloody towel, with Elizabeth, eyes wide and scared, next to him. At the other end of the table, Miranda kind of lounged, her arm stretched out across the wooden tabletop, fingers beating a quick melody. Her other hand was hidden beneath the tabletop.

“Come on in, Blanchards. Take a look at what we got here.” Miranda didn't sit up at first, just kind of half lay there as if somebody just woke her.

Meemaw and I stood inside, taking stock of what was in front of us.

“Happen that Hunter come out with you?” Miranda demanded.

I shook my head, not ready to give him away since I didn't know what was going on.

“I'll get the both of you something to drink,” Melody said and headed around to the kitchen. “Not often we get this many visitors, I'll tell you.”

I started to stop her, thinking maybe refreshments weren't in order at this kind of party.

“Let her go.” Miranda lifted the hand on the table. “Better she stays out there.”

Miranda leaned back in her chair, drawing her other hand out from under the table, holding the biggest, blackest, oldest pistol I'd ever seen in my life.

Meemaw gasped. “What the devil's going on, Miranda?”

“Bet you know some of it.”

“I don't think I know anything right now,” Meemaw answered and pulled a chair out from the table to sit.

“Well, I'll tell you. That pair over there—” She waved the gun at Elizabeth and Peter, who kept their eyes fixed on the barrel.

“Hope one of you people notices I'm bleeding over here,” Peter moaned and held up the bloody hand.

Miranda fixed him with a look and went right on. “They came to get Jeannie, sayin' she had to sign some important papers quick. All Jeannie said was she didn't think she'd be goin' anywhere. What Jeannie was tellin' them, nice as can be, was that Eugene's lawyer called Ben and Ben called here. Eugene did have that family trust business taken care of before he was killed. Was in Dallas the very day of the party. Not with their family lawyer. Had one of his own. She was tellin' them she was happy everything was settled and Elizabeth didn't have to worry anymore, the court would take care of it.”

She waved at Peter Franklin, or Voorhees, or whoever he was. “That one went straight out to his car and got a gun. Tried to bring it into my house. Can you imagine? Shot it right out of his hand. Think it's somewhere out in the weeds. Hunter can find it when he gets here.”

She sighed. “We all been sitting quiet ever since. I called the sheriff's office over and over, tried to get ahold of Hunter. Couldn't get anybody so I told that deputy what answered, that I was holding a gun on these two and I think he's tearing out here all by himself.”

All I could do was put my hands to my mouth. Meemaw looked like she'd had the wind knocked out of her.

“Ever since then Elizabeth, there, has been talking about how she doesn't even know Dr. Franklin and he forced her to come out here with 'im. Thinks he's going to kill her, she said. Like I didn't see the two of them whispering on the way out of that car.”

Billy cleared his throat and jumped in. “'Course, that man—his name isn't Dr. Peter Franklin after all—says she's a liar and he's a private detective come here to prove she had her brother's wife and then her brother killed, all to keep their fortune in the family. Man, they both got big stories to tell.”

Meemaw almost laughed, but not quite. “Bet they do.”

I got up and headed back to the door.

On the porch I looked for Hunter, then called out his name.

I saw the gun coming around the corner before I caught a glimpse of him.

“You nuts? Yelling my name out like that?” He was in a half crouch, which looked uncomfortable for a man Hunter's size.

“Come on in. It's all over. Miranda's got her gun on 'em.”

“What the hell!” He came running up on the porch. “You don't say. Miranda? Well, who would've figured . . .”

“Anybody who knows Miranda.” I led the way back into the house.

Hunter, after taking in the two cowering at one end of the table, patted Miranda on the back. “He have a gun on him?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Blew it outta his hand. Should be in the dirt in front somewhere. That's why he's bleeding.”

Voorhees held up the bad hand and was whining about brutality and needing to get to a hospital. Then he put his good hand up to his head and said he felt dizzy.

Hunter went back outside, and then in, carrying a rifle with the stock damaged.

“Guess this is yours,” he said to Voorhees. “Got the one from your apartment. Looks like the gun that killed Henry Wade, and the gun you took a shot at Lindy with.”

Hunter glared. “What in hell's your real name, fella? Voorhees. That it? Got out of prison what? Three months
ago? Guess where you're going back to. For the rest of your life.”

He turned to Elizabeth, who sat with her head down now. “And you, Miss Wheatley. What the heck's going on?”

“She's the one got me mixed up in it,” Peter snarled before she could speak, his face dark and furious. “Set up the whole thing. First it was with my friend, Henry. Got him to do her dirty work—kill her brother's first wife to keep her from going into the will. Offered to pay Henry fifty thousand for the job. We were Marines together. Marksmen. Henry called me, said he fell into a money pit and got me to come out. He was blackmailing Elizabeth, here. Thought she'd never stand up to two of us. But what do you know? Out of a clear blue sky she called me. Wanted him gone. Offered me a hundred thousand to take care of it. Had to get rid of Henry. So don't believe her now, that she had nothing to do with it. Got e-mails back in my room. Gives you the whole story. This woman's mean as they come.”

At the insult Elizabeth got her haughty look back fast, sneering, “Do you really think these people will believe an ex-con like you? They know who I am. They know the truth when I speak it.”

“That's what I was figuring,” Meemaw said. “I thought you had to be at the center of things, Elizabeth. Who else had to worry about losing the family money to one of Eugene's wives? Who else was on the scene of both killings? First Sally, but that wasn't enough. You had to have Eugene killed, too. Tell you the truth, Elizabeth, I didn't want to believe it of you, but here it is.” Meemaw swept a hand out and around the people seated at the table.

“Yeah, Miz Wheatley,” Hunter said. “Sure believe every word you say. You told your brother you were sending out a tray of food for him, didn't you? There at the party. I think Lindy mentioned it. Nice sisterly thing to do. You had Henry Wade brought on to be a waiter so he could get in the gun
room and shoot Eugene. Your brother, expecting the food, got up to open the door and went back to sit where he was working. Eugene took a blast straight through the body. He didn't know what was coming. I guess you figured you couldn't just keep killing any wife he took so you might as well stop him.”

Hunter stretched, seeming to enjoy his place in the sun.

“Just heard back from our computer man while I was out there waiting to come in the house. Found e-mails to you from Henry Wade on the hard drive of Wade's computer. He must've copied everything then thought he'd erased it all—I'll bet you ordered him to do that, get rid of evidence. The whole plan was all still there. People sure are dumb about computers.”

I could hear sirens in the distance. I had to know. “Why shoot me?” I turned to Peter. “You almost killed me.”

He got a cruel smile on his face, though he still held the bleeding hand up so everybody could see. “If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. It was Elizabeth.” He tilted his head toward her. “First she had me do this scientist stuff for cover. Made me the kind of man who could hang around her. Then, when she heard you were going to be published, she thought it would be fun to mess that up for you. I don't think Elizabeth, here, likes you too much.”

“Feeling's mutual.” I glared at the flushed woman, who glared back at me.

“All her idea.” He moved his head again. “I went along with it. Stealing your book. She thinks she's so smart. Was going to write the article to show you up. After she looked it over, she told me to toss it. Elizabeth thought it was good enough just to mess with you, for sticking your nose in her business.”

The sirens got closer.

Meemaw stared straight at Elizabeth Wheatley. “Looks like the place you're going won't be half as big as that house you wanted to hold on to so bad.”

“Shame on you, Miss Amelia. Turning on someone of your own class, like this,” Elizabeth spit back.

“Why, bless yer heart, Elizabeth. If I know anything about me and my life, it's that I don't belong to a class of people who kill off their own kin.” Meemaw sat back, looking pleased with herself.

That was the moment when deputies poured into the house with their guns drawn and all hell broke loose until everybody knew what was going on and Elizabeth Wheatley was off to jail. Peter Voorhees kept yelling “brutality” and waving his bloody hand as they took him to Riverville Memorial Hospital while I hugged my bandaged shoulder and thought how winning was a good thing even though it could hurt like hell.