Charlaine Harris - Poppy Done to Death

“Yes, absolutely.”

“You think I need a lawyer before I go in?” he asked, which was the most sensible thought he’d voiced.

“I think it wouldn’t hurt,” I said slowly.

“I’ll call Bubba,” he said, and whipped his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Oh no,” I said without thinking.

He stared at me.

I shook my head vehemently.

“You just call someone else, not Cartland Sewell,” I said. I was hoping the earth would open up and swallow not me but John David.

If he could look any worse, he did. “All right,” he said after a deadly silence. “I’ll call Bryan Pascoe.”

Bryan Pascoe was the toughest, meanest criminal lawyer in the county. I don’t know how much that was saying, but Bryan was local, and he was tough, and he knew his law. He was around Avery’s age, I thought, which meant he was a year or so older than I. I knew him only by sight. Many of the Uppity Women hoped that Bryan would become a judge in the next couple of years.

Luckily, Pascoe was not in court, and his secretary put John David through. John David tried to explain the situation, but he broke down in tears. To my acute discomfort, he pressed the telephone into my hands.

“Mr. Pascoe,” I said, because I had no choice. “This is John David’s sister-in-law, Aurora Teagarden.”

“Of course, I remember you. I hope your mother is well?” The lawyer had one of those wonderful voices-deep, smooth, authoritative.

“She’s fine,” I assured him. “But we have trouble.”

“People who call me always do. What can I do for you on this beautiful fall day?”

“Um. Well, this is the situation.” I explained it to him as rapidly and concisely as I could while John David lay over the hood of my car, weeping. I was so glad Romney didn’t come out of her duplex that I could hardly contain myself. Staying inside was incredibly smart of the girl, because I would have pounded her into a pulp. I didn’t have any sympathy or tact to spare.

“Good summary,” Bryan said, and I felt like he’d poured syrup on my pancakes and cut them up for me. “Lucky for both of us, I just had a client cancellation. I can meet John David at SPACOLEC in forty-five minutes.”

I started to ask Bryan Pascoe what the hell I was supposed to do with my brother-in-law in the meantime, but that was hardly the lawyer’s problem. “See you there in forty-five minutes, right outside the front doors,” I said, and hung up.

“Okay, John David.” I tried to sound bracing and authoritative. I turned off his phone and stuck it into his pocket. “We need to get into my car, now.” I worried about leaving John David’s car where it was, but I figured I couldn’t take care of every little thing. I’d have to get Melinda or Avery to come pick it up pretty quick, because as soon as the news of Poppy’s death was widely known, that car in that location might as well have a big scarlet A printed on the trunk. I fished John David’s keys out of his pants, got his car key off his key ring, and slipped it under the floor mat on the driver’s side. Then I called Avery and gave him the heads-up on the car. At least Avery understood completely without me having to explain every little detail.

I wrangled John David into the front seat of my car, fastened his seat belt, and ran around to get in the driver’s seat. It would take me all of fifteen minutes, if I drove slowly, to get to the SPACOLEC complex. What could I do for thirty minutes?

“I need to go by the house,” John David said. “I need to see where it happened.”

“No,” I said. “You don’t need to go there right now. For one thing, the police are sure to still be there. For another thing, the site needs to be cleaned up before you get in. I can tell you about it. It happened in your patio doorway. Someone came to your back door. He probably got into your backyard through one of the gates.” Or maybe Poppy was trying to flee into the backyard when her attacker caught up with her, having entered from the front door? But wouldn’t she have pitched forward in that case? She’d been lying on her back with her legs outside the door. No, the attack had come from in front of her when she was facing out the glass door. “She died real quick. She was stabbed.”

John David insisted again that he wanted to go home, and I told him flatly that I wouldn’t take him, that the first place he was going was to SPACOLEC, and that he better tell them all the truth. I listened to the words coming out of my mouth, and to my terrified delight, I sounded exactly like my mother.

“This will ruin Romney,” he said, speaking so quietly, it was almost to himself.

“Poppy is more important right now than Romney Burns’s reputation.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, placating me with a gesture of his hand that meant, Level out.

I had taken so many deep breaths, I thought I might hyperventilate. I drove very slowly and took the longest route I could imagine, but still we arrived at SPACOLEC before thirty minutes had elapsed.

Scared a policeman would spot John David in my car before the lawyer arrived, I drove out to Fuller Gospel Church and parked for a moment under the huge live oak in the old church’s parking lot. The sun danced through the changing leaves as they flickered in a chilly wind. It was an oddly beautiful moment, and one I knew I would never forget-the grieving and faithless man beside me, the country church, the light among the dancing leaves.

Bryan Pascoe wasn’t at all what I’d expected. Since everyone seems tall to me, I was surprised to notice that next to John David, he was actually a small man, perhaps five seven. He shook hands with me gravely and then turned all his attention to my brother-in-law.

While the lawyer listened to John David, I was able to examine him more closely. Bryan Pascoe had ash-blond hair and light blue eyes. He had the narrowest, straightest nose I’d ever seen in my life; it made him look sharp and arrogant. I didn’t know him well enough to know if that was true. Right away, he told us to call him Bryan, and then he asked John David to tell him exactly what he’d done today.

“Got up at six-forty-five, usual time,” John David began. His voice was dull. “Poppy stayed in bed until Chase started crying about seven. She fed him and changed him and packed his diaper bag for the day. We didn’t talk much. She wasn’t much of a morning person. I knew I was supposed to take Chase over to Melinda and Avery’s, because it was Poppy’s club day. Poppy asked me if I was going to be home on time today, because she was thinking of fixing pork chops for supper. She didn’t often feel like that.” For a minute, John David’s mouth twisted. “She took Chase in to brush his teeth; he doesn’t have many, so it just takes a second.” He clamped his lips shut, and his eyes, too, holding the memory in or blocking it out-I wasn’t sure which. “Poppy said since she didn’t have to get ready until nine, she might get back in bed and snooze awhile longer. Since I was taking care of Chase this morning, I had to leave at seven-forty-five to get to work before nine, so I had to go then. I put Chase in my car-we’ve got a car seat in both cars- and I dropped him off at my brother’s house. You know Avery and Melinda?”

Bryan Pascoe nodded. “I’ve met Avery,” he said. “Go on.”

“I talked to Melinda for a minute. Avery had already left for work. Melinda was worried because the sitter was late, and she couldn’t leave the kids alone long enough to shower. I drove into Atlanta to work, usual terrible traffic. I got to work right at nine. I worked until about eleven.” His faced reddened. “Then I told them I was feeling sick and needed to go home, so I drove back to Lawrenceton. I didn’t go home. I went over to Romney Burns’s house. She’d taken the afternoon off, too. I’ve been there ever since I got back to town, which would have been about eleven-forty-five, give or take a little. Traffic was a lot lighter coming back.”