Stillborn Armadillos (John Lee Quarrels Book 1) (7 page)

Chapter 13

There wasn't much more that Shania Jones could tell him, but he found himself reluctant to part company with her. By the time they were finished it was after 5 o'clock.

"I really appreciate everything you've been able to tell me," John Lee said. "I never thought spending an afternoon looking at old bones could be so fascinating. Enjoyable, even."

Shania laughed and said, "I've found that sometimes the dead are some of the nicest folks I've ever met. They don't put many demands on you, and they always tell you the truth. That's more than I can say for a lot of people."

"You got that right," John Lee said as they took off their gowns. "Look, please don't take this wrong, but I'm starving. Would it be weird if I asked you if you'd like to get a bite to eat someplace?"

"Well, let me think, a white, how did you say it, 'backwoods boy' deputy sheriff wanting to take a black woman to dinner in the deep South? What could possibly be weird about that?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, shut up," Shania said, laughing. "I was picking on you. I'm hungry, too. What's it going to be, barbecue or fried chicken?" She saw the look on his face and laughed again. "You really don't get out of the woods much, do you, Deputy Quarrels?"

He laughed with her and said, "Just call me John Lee, okay?"

"John Lee it is. How do you feel about sushi?"

He didn't feel very enthused about sushi at all, so they settled for a Chinese place a few blocks from the lab. Sipping hot tea while they waited for their meals to be prepared, John Lee asked her, "How does a nice girl like you end up spending her days looking at bones?"

"My daddy dropped out of school when he was fourteen to help support his family. After he and Mama got married, he drove a garbage truck. Mama made money on the side fixing ladies' hair. They had seven kids. We never went hungry, and they always made sure we had clothes to wear, but it wasn't like we were
The Jeffersons
or had a lot of money to spend, either. The one thing they impressed on all of their kids was that an education was the key to a good life. All but one of us got a college education. Let's see, one of my brothers is an attorney, another is a schoolteacher, and one is a major in the Army. My older sister runs a community outreach center over in Pensacola, and my younger sister will graduate with a degree in chemistry this year. I started out wanting to go to medical school, but the first time I saw a surgery I passed out. The next time, I lost my cookies. I decided I'd rather work with bones than bodies."

John Lee laughed, then said, "You said all but one of you has a degree."

Her face grew serious, and Shania said, "My brother Jerome was killed in an accident when he was fifteen."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It happens. He was hanging out with a rough crowd, and no matter how much my folks tried to keep him on the straight and narrow, he kept getting himself into trouble. One night Jerome and a couple of his buddies stole a car and the police were chasing them. They wound up crashing into a guardrail doing over 90 miles an hour. Jerome and his buddy Terrance were both killed instantly. Leon, the third boy, the one who was driving, wound up a quadriplegic."

"I'm so sorry," John Lee said.

"Yeah, me, too. But it is what it is, right?"

"I guess."

"Okay, your turn. How did you come to be a deputy sheriff in Somerton County? Do you come from a long line of Southern lawmen?"

"No, though I married into one. My father-in-law is the sheriff over there."

"Oh, I see." There was a subtle change in her body language. "You don't wear a ring."

"My wife and I have been separated for quite a while now."

"I guess it's my turn to say I'm sorry."

"It's complicated," John Lee said.

"Those kind of things usually are."

"It's not like we didn't get along, we very seldom argued about anything. But she always said there was something missing in her life. How did she say it? She felt stifled. So one day when I came home from work she had moved out. Now she's living with another woman."

"Ouch, that must hurt."

He chuckled and said, "I'm not sure what would be worse, being left for another man or for another woman."

"You seem to have a sense of humor about it."

"What was it you said a minute ago? It is what it is."

"Any children?"

"No, closest thing I have to a kid is a big old German Shepherd named Magic. He looks like he would eat you alive, but the most he would do is smother you in kisses."

That wasn't entirely true. Though Magic was as gentle as could be, he was also protection trained, and could easily take down a two hundred pound man if the need arose.

"I like him already."

"Anyway, I never really knew my dad, and my mother is... my mother's a flake. She didn't raise me, she was too busy going off to find herself. She'd pop back into my life now and then for a day or two or a week, and then she was gone again."

"It sounds like your wife and your mother have a lot in common."

"You know, I never thought about it that way," John Lee admitted.

"So who raised you, then?"

"My grandparents. My mother's parents. Paw Paw and Mama Nell."

"Now those sound like good old Southern people."

"You'd be wrong there," John Lee told her. "They don't fit any kind of stereotype you've ever heard of."

"Okay, you piqued my interest. Tell me about them."

The waitress brought their food, and after she left John Lee said, "They're like nobody you've ever met. Mama Nell, I call her that because if I ever called her Grandma she'd wash my mouth out with soap, she's been in love with Elvis Presley since she was little girl. Now, I'm not talking about some teenage crush. I'm talking head over heels in love. She has every record he ever made, not only in vinyl, mind you, but also on 8-track, cassette, and CD. Same with every movie he was ever in. VHS and DVD. Along with dozens of magazine and newspaper stories, and enough souvenirs to fill a WalMart. She makes a pilgrimage to Graceland every year, and if there's an Elvis impersonator playing anywhere from Miami to Biloxi, she's going to be in the front row. Hell, she even named my mother Lisa Marie, just like Elvis did his daughter."

Shania laughed. "And Paw Paw?"

"Let's put it this way. I stopped by their place yesterday and he's growing marijuana in his greenhouse."

Shania laughed so hard she choked on her house fried rice. She held her hand over her mouth and coughed, tears streaming down her cheeks, then took a long drink of water.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God, you white folks are funny! Are you serious, Paw Paw is a pothead?"

"I'm serious as a heart attack. Those plants are three or four feet tall!"

"And you're a deputy sheriff!"

"Yeah, we weren't exactly
The Waltons
. More like a cross between
Rosanne
and
Hee Haw
."

"So how does the progeny of a free spirit like your mother who was raised by Mama Nell and Paw Paw end up being a deputy sheriff? Because I still don't get that."

"To be honest, it was just a job, and jobs aren't all that plentiful over in Somerton County. All I've got's a high school education, and I never really wanted to be anything or do anything special. I certainly didn't plan on becoming a cop but it beat driving truck or working construction or anything like that. I just fell into it."

"Was that before or after you married the sheriff's daughter?"

"Before. I knew Emily before I got the job. It's a small town, everybody knows everybody. But we didn't start seeing each other until after I'd been a deputy for a year or so."

"And how does your father-in-law feel about the fact that the marriage is... whatever it is?"

"He doesn't really understand it. He's a small town politician. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, but his world ends at the county line. He and I get along okay for the most part. I don't think he blames me for the separation. He just wants things to go back to the way it used to be."

He didn't tell her about D.W.'s reaction to finding his younger daughter at John Lee's house the other morning. He felt very comfortable with Shania, but that would have been too much information to share.

"And how about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do
you
want things to go back to the way they used to be?"

John Lee had to think about that for a moment before he could answer. "To be honest, I don't know. There was a time when I was crushed, when I'd have done anything to get her back. And she has come back a time or two and spent the night, then she just disappears again."

"Do you still love her?"

"I love her, but lately I find myself wondering if I'm still
in love
with her."

That was true. How could he go to bed with Beth Ann if he was still in love with Emily? It was a question he had asked himself more than once.

"Okay, you've given me the third degree. What about you? Is a jealous husband going to be coming through the door any minute now with blood in his eyes?"

Shania laughed and shook her head. "Nope, no need to worry about that."

"No husband?"

She shook her head.

"No boyfriend?"

Again with the headshake, but before he could ask anything else, she added, "And no girlfriend either, just in case you were wondering."

This time they both laughed.

"So how come a beautiful, intelligent, professional woman like you is still single?"

"Why, thank you sir," Shania said with a smile. "I don't know. I was busy with school and getting established in my job. I never had time for a serious relationship. I mean, I've dated a few guys, and there have been a few sleepovers in my life, but not many. I'm not saying I wouldn't want to find the right man someday. But he hasn't come along, and I haven't been out looking. Like I said, it is what it is."

They chatted through their meal, talking about everything from their work to the kinds of music they enjoyed, to their favorite movies and books. Finally, they realized that it was getting late and they were the only people still in the restaurant except for the staff, who occasionally looked at them, wondering how much longer they would be.

Shania wanted to split the bill, but John Lee wouldn't let her. They had walked to the restaurant, and when they got back to the parking lot at the state crime lab, he opened her car door for her and said, "Thank you, I really enjoyed tonight. And thanks again for all the information on the skeletons and all that."

"No problem, John Lee. I enjoyed it, too. You're a nice guy. For a good ol' boy white deputy sheriff, that is."

They laughed and he extended his hand to shake hers. Instead, Shania, leaned forward and hugged him.

"You drive careful going home, John Lee. And if you ever get back this way again, look me up. Here's my card. My cell number's on the back."

"I'll do that," he said with a big smile. "I'll darned sure do that."

Chapter 14

He took the slower route home, US Highway 19 to Perry, where he picked up US 27 and then turned east on local roads into Somerton County. It had cooled off enough that he could drive with the windows down, and as his headlights cut through the dark he thought about his dinner with Shania. She was one of the most interesting women he had met in a long time. He was glad to have had the opportunity to meet her.

Driving through Somerton he saw Emmitt Planter sitting in his city police car in the parking lot of Dogs-N-Suds and pulled up beside him. Somerton only had four officers on the city police force and they worked closely with the sheriff's department.

"What's up, Emmitt?"

"Nothin' but the cost of livin' and my cholesterol level. How ya' doin', John Lee?"

"Fine as frog's hair."

"That's a nice Charger."

"Thanks. I sure do like it after that old Ford I've been driving the last two years."

"Any news on those bones you fellas found out there on Turpentine Highway?"

"I was just over in Tallahassee at the State Crime Lab. We don't know much more than we did to start with, except that they were black."

"That don't surprise me at all. Lots of niggers got killed around here over the years. Either killin' each other or gettin' out of line and the Klan takin' care of business."

John Lee didn't appreciate the slur but he had learned a long time ago that old prejudices were still alive and well in many people, including some of those who wore a badge. And while the Klan was still around, for the most part, they kept their identities secret. He wouldn't be surprised if more than one person who wore a uniform during the day put on a white hood and sheet at night.

"Yeah well, it's been a long day. I'm gonna head on home. You have a good night, Emmitt."

"You too, John Lee."

He drove away, angry with himself for the fact that he accepted the way people like Emmitt talked. Didn't that make him just as bad? Would he have ignored it the same way if Shania had been with him? Then again, why would she have been with him? That was a can of worms he didn't even want to think about, let alone open.

He was dreading who he might find waiting for him at home. He wasn't looking forward to seeing either Emily or Beth Ann, and he was relieved to have only Magic greet him when he pulled in the driveway.

John Lee felt guilty for being so busy that he had been ignoring the dog lately and spent half an hour in the yard throwing a big rubber Kong toy across the yard so Magic could retrieve it and bring it back to him. Then they would tussle over control until the dog would relinquish it and John Lee would throw it again.

Magic was still going strong, but John Lee was tired and ready to call it a night. They went in the house and he fed Magic, then went into the bedroom to hang up his gun belt and change out of his uniform. As he was going through his pockets he felt the small evidence bag and realized that he had forgotten to show the disk they had found at the crime scene to Shania. He glanced at his watch. It was after 10, but he took a chance and called her cell phone anyway.

"Hello?"

"I hope I didn't call too late. It's John Lee."

"Wow, you don't waste any time, do you?"

"No, it's not like that..."

"It's not? I'm disappointed."

"Really? I mean..."

He heard her laughing over the phone, a sound he had come to enjoy since he first met her earlier that day.

"You white boys are so uptight. What do you need, John Lee?"

"There was something else we found at the crime scene. And I keep forgetting about it."

"Okay, what was it?"

He could tell by the tone of her voice that she was all business again.

"I don't know, exactly. It's a round metal disk, about the size of a fifty cent piece and I think it's brass. It's still got a lot of dirt on it so I can't really tell you much else about it."

"My specialty is bones, but I'd like to see it. Can you take a picture with your phone and send it to me?"

"Yeah, hang on just a minute." He took the disk out of the evidence bag, set it on the kitchen table and took photographs of both sides and sent them to her number.

"It's hard to say," Shania told him after looking at the photos. "Why don't you try to wash some of the dirt off of it and see what you get?"

"Okay."

He went to the kitchen sink and ran some water, doing his best to scrub away the accumulated dirt.

"It's got a hole on top, and then in the center are the letters SL and the number 428 below them on the front. There's nothing on the back side."

"Send me another picture."

He did and waited while she retrieved it.

"I don't know, I've never seen anything like that. At first I thought it might be a token of some kind, but with the hole in it like that, it could be a tag that went on something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything from an animal trap to a dog tag. Who knows?"

"You said something about a token. What did you mean?"

"There was a time when businesses issued tokens. They called them trade tokens. They were usually good for a discount on something. Like a bar might give them out for a free drink, or a free sandwich if you bought a drink. Almost like they do with coupons today."

"Interesting."

"Believe it or not, cat houses even issued tokens."

"Cat houses? Like brothels?"

"Yes. Do you have any brothels in Somerton County, John Lee?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"I'm sure if there were, you would know about them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh don't get all defensive and start telling me you're one of those guys that never has to pay for it because you get plenty of it offered free. I just meant, you being a cop and everything."

"I wasn't getting defensive, I was just..."

"So do you, John Lee?"

"What do I what? Do I know of any brothels here, or do I get plenty of it offered for free?"

"Your choice, answer whichever one you want."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Your choice, choose whichever question you want."

She laughed again and said, "Oh, I don't think you have to pay for it. I think there's a whole bunch of little gals running around over there in Somerton County that you could have at your beck and call. All you'd have to do is ask."

"If nothing else, you're good for my ego."

She laughed again, and then she said, "My friend, you have no idea how good I am."

He did know how to reply to that, and he heard her laughter over the phone again. "Good night, John Lee. Sweet dreams."

And then the call ended.

***

Cradling the old Remington Mohawk Model 660 bolt action rifle, the sniper hidden in the thick stand of pine trees across the street had watched John Lee playing with the German Shepherd. He was easy to see in the security yard lights. Centering the Bushnell 4X scope's crosshairs on his chest, finger inside the trigger guard, all it would have taken was a light pull on the trigger. It would have been so easy to send a 180 grain bullet tearing through his chest, the soft exposed lead tip and notched copper jacket expanding inside and transferring its energy into a destructive force destroying everything in its path. So very easy.

But what would it accomplish? The damage had already been done, thanks to the road grader, and killing the deputy would only bring more attention to the case. Someone else would just replace him. Shooting at the police car the first time had been a stupid mistake that the sniper now regretted. It would have been better to let it be and see if the whole thing would just blow over. It had been so long ago, what could they have discovered? But there was no use crying over spilt milk. What was done was done.

Who knows? Maybe they would decide that the shots fired at the police car had come from somebody target shooting at a distance. Some careless shooter who didn't even know where his bullets were going. Or maybe a crank. A kid out playing a dangerous game for kicks. The sniper took one last long look through the scope at the deputy. Yes, it would be so easy, but all it would do was complicate things. Still, it was good to know that if it came down to it, taking John Lee Quarrels out would be easy. As easy as shooting fish in a barrel.