Joan Hess - Misery Loves Maggody

"Is Brother Verber still in his room?" I asked.

"How should I know? I am not his keeper any more than I'm your private secretary"

I took a breath. "Estelle says she can see a body on his balcony."

Mrs. Jim Bob's eyes widened, but before she could sputter a response, Mackenzie said, "This is not confirmed, ma'am. Miss Oppers has been seeing all sorts of things today. I will not be surprised when she claims to have encountered Elvis in the stairwell."

"Actually, he's out in the parking lot," I said, then went into the room that had originally been assigned to Stormy and Cherri Lucinda. Estelle was slumped on a bed. Cherri Lucinda was on the balcony, holding up a flickering cigarette lighter as if she were a human lighthouse. As I joined her, I noticed Rex leaning against the rail.

"What do you see?" I asked.

"I'm darn near positive that's a shoe," Cherri Lucinda said. "Where there's a shoe, there's apt to be a foot and a leg and… so forth."

I could make out a mound next to the sliding door. I went back into the room and said to Mackenzie, "I can't tell from here. It could be an overcoat, or it could be a very inert person."

"Oh, dear God," gurgled Mrs. Jim Bob. "It's Brother Verber, isn't it? He went out for a breath of air, then fainted and froze to death. I feel like I'm being visited by the plagues of Egypt. Are frogs gonna start raining down on my head?"

Mackenzie tried the door that adjoined the two rooms, but it was indeed locked from the opposite side. "I guess we'd better take a look," he said to me.

I told Estelle to restrain Mrs. Jim Bob, who was gulping noisily and carrying on about lice, locusts, and flies. I trailed Mackenzie out into the hall and waited while he unlocked the door.

"I didn't think anybody was staying here," he said as we went inside. "Who's Brother Verber?"

"I'll explain if necessary." The room did not appear to have been disturbed since I'd been in it earlier. It hadn't been tidied up, either. The whiskey bottle was still half full-a promising sign that Brother Verber had not come back for his purported solitary prayer vigil.

Resisting the urge to allow Mackenzie to do the dirty work, I opened the sliding door. "There's a body, all right," I said over my shoulder. "I feel as though I should consider him an old friend, but I don't know his name."

Mackenzie nudged me aside. "Well, Miss Hanks, you're not quite as paranoid as I'd assumed. He most definitely is bald."

"He was bald. Now he's dead," I added, gazing at the wire that had been twisted tightly around his neck.

"Is Dahlia home?" said Kevin as he and his pa drove away from the county jail.

"You plannin' to show her how purty you look in lipstick, boy?" growled Earl. "When this gets out, I'll be ashamed to show my face at the feed store. Everybody's gonna assume you're a faggot. Why'd you have to go and put on lipstick before you stole the four-wheel?"

Kevin cringed against the door. "It's kinda hard to explain. I dint want Dahlia to recognize me if she looked in the rearview mirror. If I caught up with her, I mean. Is she back home?"

"No, your ma was still over at your house when you called. You're damn lucky you're not spending the next five years in jail for grand theft auto-and if you'd taken anybody else's vehicle, you would. Despite being kin, Canon was ready to press charges. He finally backed off when I reminded him of the money his pa still owes me for that parcel of land down by Boone Creek. I ain't never gonna get it now."

"I'm real sorry, Pa," Kevin said, staring at the dashboard. "I was trying to keep my family together. I guess Dahlia's run off with another man. I should have seen how tired she was and figured out a way for her to rest up until she was her regular sweet-natured self again. The doctor called it something fancy, but I just thought of it as the baby blues times two."

"I can't see her running off," Earl said. "Buchanon women don't do that. Well, there was Maizie Grace, but she was always flighty. You recollect her?"

"Yeah, Pa. " Kevin turned away to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

Earl cleared his throat. "Quit your sniveling and see if you can get a ball game on the radio. You're stupider than cow spit, but you ain't a faggot-okay?"

The Reverend Edwin W. Hitebred's eyes flew open. It took him several seconds to remember where he was and, more important, why he was there. The Mount Zion Church was under siege by satanists, and he alone was willing to risk his life to defend it. He'd armed himself with a Bible, a crucifix, and the vial of holy water he'd purchased at a tent revival back in 1967.

But he couldn't allow himself to nod off again. No matter how uncomfortable the chair, no matter if his back started aching and his knees began to throb, no matter if the satanists set fire to the church, he would be ready.

He started as he heard a creak. It seemed to come from overhead rather than out in the main room. Could that be how they were breaking into the church? Hitebred held his breath and strained to hear the sounds of footsteps on the roof.

After a good thirty seconds, he exhaled. He'd pretty much convinced himself that most likely it had been nothing but wind when he heard a hoot from outside. It could have been an owl-but it could have been a signal. He forced himself to go over to the window and peer out. If they were crawling on their bellies like the serpents they were, they were staying too low to be seen.

He'd just resettled in the chair when he heard a car drive by. Either folks down the road were on their way home-or the satanists were making sure the church was empty before coming inside.

It occurred to Hitebred that he might be in for a long, cold night.

Mackenzie was calling Chief Sanderson as I left the room and went next door. "There is a body," I announced, "but it's not anyone you know. Estelle, let me have your room key. I need to make a call."

"You're sure it's not Brother Verber?" whispered Mrs. Jim Bob, who was calmer but still trembling.

"I'm sure." I went to Estelle's room and called the hospital. "Dr. Deweese, please," I said.

"He left about an hour ago for Memphis. He'll be back on Monday. If there's an emergency, you're supposed to-"

"Is Carlette there?"

"She damn well better be. Hang on and I'll transfer you to the nurses' station."

I recognized Carlette's voice when she answered the phone. I identified myself, then said, "How's Ruby Bee?"

"Just doing real well, honey. She passed an enormous gallstone. It wasn't like a basketball or anything, but it was big enough to have caused all her misery. She's out of pain and sleeping like a baby. Dr. Deweese said she can go home in the morning."

I fell back on the bed as a knot of anxiety three times bigger than a basketball began to unravel. "She's okay? Her fever's down?"

"Coming down. Her head'll clear up now that she's off the pain medication. She told me to tell you to leave her be so she can get a decent night's sleep. She'll expect you at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, and she wants biscuits and gravy for breakfast."

I forced myself to sit up. "Thanks, Carlette. I'll tell Dr. Deweese how supportive you've been. I hope you get a raise or something."

Carlette laughed. "About all I can expect is to be named employee of the week. That's means I get to decide what kind of pizza we'll order on Friday. Other than that, I'll be making minimum wage till I retire in forty years."

"I need another favor," I said. "I left Ruby Bee's bag in the closet in her room. Could you find a safe place to keep it until tomorrow, preferably a locked cabinet or store room?"

"Somebody hot to steal her nightgown?"

"Just do this, please, and don't mention it to anyone else. I'll explain in the morning."

"Whatever," she said.