I began my career writing short stories but I don't write them any more. This is the last one I wrote and it took me more than two months to write. In that amount of time, I can have half a book written. But here's the story for you to enjoy.
By
Janet Lane Walters
"What’s a nice girl like me doing in a dump like this?" Maude Forest laughed. Girl was pushing the envelope, but dump said it all. She shifted position on the moth-eaten sofa and grabbed her cell phone. Maybe her best friend had returned from her latest jaunt. Maude was in dire need of diversion.
Why would a self-made millionaire want to find his roots? She looked at the faded, water-stained wallpaper and prayed her husband of thirty-five years would come to his senses. He’d dragged her to this farmhouse on the edge of nowhere because his father, grandfather and who knows how many greats had lived here.
What was wrong with a cruise or a visit to Broadway? Even a golfing vacation would have been more fun. No, George had to see the home of his ancestors, his unexpected inheritance and the place his mother had fled when he was a few months old.
She dialed a familiar number and heard her friend’s voice. "Sue Ellen, regale me with tales of civilization."
Sue Ellen Pinewood laughed. "The Parker wedding was a gross extravaganza."
"Was I missed?"
"Absolutely. Without your caustic comments, I was bored. Let me tell you about the dust-up at the Women’s Club luncheon."
The phone crackled. Maude couldn’t hear her friend. "Sue Ellen, are you there?"
"Sorry. My driver hit a rut. Where was I?"
"At the Women’s Club."
While Sue Ellen gave a blow by blow, Maude felt envy blossom like the roses on the trellis outside the window. She’d give almost anything to walk on concrete instead of dirt, but budging George was impossible.
"Ma, Ma, git out here," George bellowed.
"I’m not your mother."
Sue Ellen chuckled. "Is Ma his new pet name?"
Maude sighed. "Since he’s in the hills, he’s turned us into Ma and Pa Kettle."
"Where are you?"
"Midway between Luke and Stumpy Point."
Sue Ellen giggled. "So when will you be home?"
"Who knows when Pa Kettle will find the roots his
mother severed when she left his father."
"Have you done anything interesting?"
Maude rolled her eyes. "We appeared at a strawberry festival. Shame I’m allergic."
Either Sue Ellen or the connection sputtered like eggs frying in bacon grease. Maude held the phone from her ear.
"Woman, come here, now," George shouted.
Sue Ellen giggled. "What’s got him so riled?"
"Probably a cow wandered by. Where were we?"
"Your exciting days."
"We’ve toured cemeteries and read tombstones." Though it had taken more than a year after the death, she wished the lawyer hadn’t found George.
"Maude, there’s a body on the lawn. Hurry."
Sue Ellen shrieked. "Did he say body?"
"Probably a groundhog or a possum. Call you later."
"Sure can’t wait to hear what he’s found." Sue Ellen’s voice held supercilious tones. In the past year though she’d become Maude’s best friend, Sue Ellen barely tolerated George.
Maude opened the screen door and stepped onto the weathered boards of the porch. Her portly husband clung to one of the pillars. He turned. "Maude, do something."
The panic in his voice startled her. Fear from a man
who’d defeated corporate raiders and hostile take-overs?
Her gaze followed his finger. A figure, wearing overalls and a red shirt, lay on the grass. Shaggy pale hair resembled straw. "It’s a scarecrow."
She walked down the creaking steps and gingerly crossed the rough-cut grass. She stumbled over a black rock and nearly fell. When she reached the figure, she saw the shirt had once been white. The stain looked like blood. She stared at the man’s face, felt light-headed and crumpled to the ground.
The sound of sirens roused her. She glanced at the body. Not her imagination. The dead man wore her husband’s face. Though much older than George, the shaggy eyebrows and the nose, often referred by friends and foes as "the eagle’s beak," were prominent features of the stranger.
In the middle of the man’s chest, a knife with a gold dollar sign for a handle stood erect. She knew the knife; she’d had it made for George. He had reciprocated with a similar one for her. She wiggled away from the body and rested her head against her knees. The sirens stopped.
"Ma’am, you okay?"
"In shock, but I’ll do."
"Your name?"
"Maude Forest."
He pronounced Maude as Mud. Even after she corrected
him, her name remained mud. "You know the victim?"
"Never saw him before." She looked up and, for the second time that morning, fainted.
When she roused, three men knelt around her. She blinked. "Is this some kind of joke?" Though of different ages, all bore the same genetic stamp -- shaggy eyebrows and eagle beaks. "George, are you trying to drive me crazy?"
He patted her hand. "I’m as puzzled as you are."
"Why did you drag me to this god-forsaken spot?"
"Ma’am, this is God’s country," the youngest of the look-alikes said.
"Clone County."
"No, ma’am. Wayne County." The older man grabbed George’s arm. "Come along."
The younger man jumped to his feet. "This is a matter for the Sheriff."
"Wrong, Sonny. Town has jurisdiction. And we got the lock-up."
"What?" George yelled.
"Body was found here. Anybody can see there’s a connection."
George straightened. "I have never seen this man before."
"What about the knife? Cain’t be too many like that
around."
"It’s much like the one I keep in my home office."
The officer led George to one of the squad cars. Maude struggled to her feet. "What are you doing with him?"
"Taking him for questioning."
"What about that...that..." She pointed to the corpse.
The younger man patted her shoulder. "Ambulance is on the way. You’ll be okay. Nothing much happens around here."
"You call a dead man nothing?"
The older man turned. "There’s a couple motels in town. Recommend the Cozy Nest."
His recommendation sounded like a command. Maude nodded. "I’ll go there."
"Figured you might. Be available for questions."
The ambulance arrived and the patrol cars left. Maude returned to the house and dialed her friend. Instead of Sue Ellen’s drawl, Maude heard a canned message. Of all the times for her friend to be out of touch. Maybe Sue Ellen was with the man she’d recently met, the one Maude didn't know.
In the house, Maude put the luggage on the lumpy bed. At least tonight, she wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked by bedsprings. She lugged George’s single case and her four, plus the hanging bag to the Mercedes. After all,
a woman had to be prepared for most occasions.
As she drove down the narrow road George had called a
blacksnake trail, she gripped the wheel. Every rut sent a surge of dread along her spine. The road was edged by posts and thick strands of wire she didn’t believe would keep the car from plunging down the mountain.
Her cell phone beeped. She stopped in the middle of the road.
"Hello." Her friend’s honeyed drawl sounded. "Sue Ellen, I can’t talk now. I’m on a road that makes a rollercoaster seem tame."
"Where’s George? Doesn’t he usually drive?"
She wasn’t about to tell anyone her husband had been arrested. "He’s otherwise occupied."
Sue Ellen said goodbye. Maude continued the white-
knuckle drive. When she reached the main highway before heading to town, she sat and shook.
The Cozy Nest wasn’t a luxury hotel, but was nicer than the farmhouse. The room was clean, the king-sized bed comfortable and the air-conditioning worked. She found a local phone directory and called the jail and the lawyer who’d gotten George into this mess.
While she waited for the lawyer, Sue Ellen called. "Tell me about the body on the lawn."
Maude quickly described the corpse and the other George look-alikes. Though she mentioned the victim had been stabbed, she refused to mention the knife. She kept that fact to herself. "The police took George away. Please
come. I need a friend." The long silence made Maude edgy.
Finally Sue Ellen spoke. "Not today. Why don’t you come home."
"And leave George?"
Again there was a pause. "I suppose not."
"Would you stop by the house and bring several black dresses? The way things are going, I’ll need them."
"No problem."
Maude brewed coffee in the set-up in the bathroom. She settled at the table in a corner of the room. George wasn’t a killer. He had a ruthless streak, but that was reserved for business.
She picked up the local paper and read the headlines. "County To Run Out Of Coal." The article spoke of the loss of tax revenues and mentioned potential mining sites where landowners refused to sell.
A rap on the door interrupted a sudden thought. She braced for another encounter with a George clone. Since coming here, she realized what her mother-in-law’s dying words meant.
"I left my husband because he was too busy plowing fields."
Maude had thought Estelle had meant George’s father had been too busy farming to pay attention to his wife and son.
Wrong! Maude opened the door and gasped.
"Mrs. Forest, is something wrong?"
She felt relieved. The lawyer had none of George’s features, though there was something vaguely familiar about him. "Come in, Mr. Birchwood."
"I haven’t seen your husband yet."
"Isn’t he entitled to legal representation?"
He nodded. "He’s refused to see me."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I have no idea."
"Who was the body on the lawn?"
"That’s a puzzle. Appears to be George Senior, but I saw him buried."
"Could I see a copy of the will?" She’d been George’s secretary, wife and executive assistant. He’d always seen the big picture while she handled the details.
He patted her hand. "Wouldn’t do you much good. Full of legalese."
His refusal raised her determination to find a copy. "What happens next?"
"Soon as I see Mr. Forest, I’ll plan my strategy."
Maude sighed. "I guess I must wait."
He walked to the door. "Keep your chin up."
Maude closed the door. She finished the coffee and
called the jail. "This is Mrs. Forest. When can I see my husband?"
"He doesn’t want to see anybody."
Surely he didn’t think she was involved in this mess. Of course, George was used to being in control. "Tell him I’m looking for details." She grabbed her purse and headed for the courthouse. In the record room, she stopped at the desk. "I’d like to see a copy of George Forest’s will."
The young woman looked up. "It’s not here."
"Who has it?"
The girl shrugged. "Can’t say.
"Did you happen to look at it?"
The young woman’s glance darted around the room. "Sure did. Made me mad. Left his land to strangers. A son no one ever heard of and if he was dead, to a daughter. Both strangers."
"What’s wrong with that?"
"’Cause that sweet Nell took him to her house and cared for him when he was dying."
"Where does she live?"
"Not in town. Haven’t seen her much since the old man died."
What now? Maude left the record room. She saw three men approach and for a moment, thought George was with them. Did all the men in town look like him? Though she felt
dizzy, she refused to faint again.
"Ma’am, we have some questions," one of the men said.
She nodded. "So do I. Why won’t George see me or the lawyer?"
"He has his reasons." They escorted her to an office. "Tell us about this morning," the one who looked the most like George said.
Maude complied. The men stared. She felt like a fly about to be swatted. "What’s going on? There has to be a pattern."
"Imagine you know since you called 911 to report the murder."
She shook her head. "Wasn’t me."
"You had a cell phone in your hand and you were the only woman around."
Maude swallowed. "I was talking to a friend when George called. What are you trying to say? George didn’t kill that man."
"Perhaps."
"Who was the dead man?"
"Your husband’s father."
"Then who was buried more than a year ago?"
The man who looked the most like George shrugged. "Maybe your husband’s uncle. Too late to tell, but all Forests look alike."
"Do you have any more questions?" Maude wanted to cry.
"Not at the moment. Make sure you don’t leave town."
She walked to the door. "Not while George is here. Tell him I’m looking for the trees." She stopped suddenly. Those words triggered an idea she didn’t want to believe.
"Is there something else?" one of the men asked.
"I’m not sure. I have to make a phone call." She left and walked back to the Cozy Nest.
Was there a way to find proof against the lawyer? Mr. Birchwood had to be the key.
When she reached the motel, she entered her room and reached for the cell phone to call Sue Ellen. Before she had a chance to put her purse down, someone knocked at the door. Maude answered and saw her friend. "I was just about to call you. Sue Ellen Pinewood, thought you couldn’t come today." Sue Ellen smiled and Maude swallowed a gasp. Why hadn’t she seen this before?
"I thought of you all alone and had to come." Sue Ellen breezed past a stunned Maude. "We have adjoining rooms." She opened the door that connected the rooms. "We can spend the evening talking about how you’re going to spend George’s money."
"What are you talking about?"
"He’s going to be convicted of the murder. After all, the knife was his."
Had she told Sue Ellen that? She’d only said the man
had been stabbed. "How did you know about the knife?"
"How else? She was there." Mr. Birchwood entered from the adjoining room. He smiled. "I’d like to be the first to let you know your husband’s been released. He’s on his way here."
Maude grasped her purse. "Sue Ellen, why?"
"My daddy should have left the land to me. There’s coal there and I’m going to be rich."
"Why are you telling me this?" Maude asked.
Sue Ellen laughed. "George is going to be surprised." She pulled out the companion knife to George’s and strode toward Maude.
Maude swung her purse and knocked the knife from Sue Ellen’s hand.
Someone banged on the door. On the backswing, Maude slugged Mr. Birchwood. She opened the door.
Five men entered. "Nell Pinewood, you’re under arrest for murder,"
One of them said. "And you, Mr. Birchwood as an accessory."
Once the men and their prisoners left. Maude put her arms around George. "Can we go home now?"
"After I complete a real estate deal."
She shook her head. "George, I was so busy looking at the Forests, I nearly missed the trees."
George laughed.
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