Edward Lee - The Backwoods

“Oh, I’m so glad you two could meet.” Judy emerged from the crowd and squeezed between Patricia and Felps, draping an arm around each of their shoulders. “Mr. Felps is the man I was telling you about, the construction man.”

“Yes. We were just having a chat,” Patricia said.

Judy was obviously in her cups, stooping over a little. But at least the tears had dried. She hugged Patricia harder. “Oh, and it was Gordon who supplied all the liquor for Dwayne’s reception. Wasn’t that kind of him?”

“Yes, it was.” But then Patricia thought, Probably hoping you’d get drunk and sign a bad purchase agreement.

“It was nothing, Judy,” Felps said. “For the short time I’ve been here, you and Dwayne have been good friends, and my heart goes out to you now in this sad time. I hope it goes without saying, but if you need anything—anything at all—just ask.”

“Thank you, Gordon.” Another tear now; then she looked glitter-eyed to Patricia. “He’s such a sweet man.”

He may be a con man, but I don’t know how sweet he is, Patricia thought. She was just being protective, of course. Felps was probably a fine person and a legitimate businessman, but since lawyers tended to despise businessmen, and vice versa, she supposed her guarded reaction was normal.

Felps stood his ground in spite of the sudden discomfort. Judy was close to drunk now, and she was a sloppy drunk. Was she clutching Felps so hard on purpose? Was she deliberately pressing her left breast against him, or was she just unaware of it in her inebriation? The stooped pose lowered the vee of her black dress, showing a depth of cleavage. Could my sister possibly have a crush on this guy? came Patricia’s off-key thought. Judy’s bosom was almost as formidable as Patricia’s. She watched Felps’s eyes, hoping to catch them straying to the cleavage . . . but it never happened.

Then Patricia berated herself. My head has been in the gutter since the minute I came back here. I’d better straighten up.

“I’ve got to visit the ladies’ room, but you two keep chatting,” Judy slurred next. She gave Patricia a kiss on the cheek, then a squeezy hug to Felps, and she was gone.

“I’d better get going myself,” Felps said, glancing at his watch. “Early day tomorrow. But it was very nice meeting you.”

“You, too.”

Interesting, she thought after he’d left . He could be the greatest guy in the world, but . . . I don’t think I like him.

It was just more attorney cynicism, but what did it matter? When she looked back into the dining room to see if Ernie was still there, all she caught a glimpse of was his back as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Was she suddenly obsessed with him? Had returning here sparked some until-recently-dormant middle-aged biological clock? We weren’t even high school sweethearts, she reminded herself . He wanted to be but I didn’t. Was some fossil of regret inching out of her soul?

Ridiculous, she dismissed the thought. Even in her darkest and most personal hours, she knew she’d found total happiness—as well as sexual satisfaction—with Byron. When she’d called him on her cell phone just before the services, simply hearing his voice had sparked a few sexual wires. Her nipples had hardened even as she related her very dull goings-on thus far. I don’t know what this Ernie thing is, but it’s stupid and nonsensical, so I’m going to put it out of my mind , she determined.

“Howdy, Patricia. My condolences, a’ course. Sorry it took me so long to welcome ya back to town.”

Another startlement as she’d been musing. It was Chief Sutter who’d approached her. She’d always thought of him as a clichéd country-bumpkin-type chief, complete with the suspenders and big belly, but she’d always remembered him as a considerate man who very much cared about the residents he was employed to protect. She remembered how gentle, how caring he’d been in the aftermath of the rape, as well as the delicacy with which he’d handled her during the grueling but necessary questioning.

She smiled warmly, shaking his hand. “Chief Sutter. I’m happy to see you. In fact, I waved yesterday when I was coming into town.”

He winked. “The Qwik-Mart. Yeah, Trey ‘n’ I caught a glimpse of ya in that shiny new car of yours. Judy’s always tellin’ me how well things are going for you ‘n’ your husband up in D.C. We’re all so happy for ya.”

It was just small talk, but Patricia appreciated it, and it truly was good to see him. “Thanks, Chief, and I hope things are going well for you, too.” She quickly glanced around. “Where is your deputy, by the way? I know I saw him at the service.”

“He had to go back out on patrol, but he sends his condolences as well.” Suddenly something like concern touched the chief’s face, and she noticed that he was holding a dark plastic bag with some official-looking seal on it. “But if I could trouble ya for just a minute? Could you take this and see that Judy gets it when the time is right?” He held up the bag. “It’s from the country police lab, and they’re done with it now.”

“What is it?”

“Dwayne’s personal effects, stuff he had on him when his body was found. They released it me today, but it ain’t really appropriate to give it to Judy just yet.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Just his wedding band, watch, wallet ‘n’ all.”

Patricia opened the bag and looked inside. “Did the crime lab find anything in the way of evidence?”

“Unfortunately, no. And there’s some cash in there too, just so ya know. A goodly amount.”

Watch, wallet, gold wedding band ? Patricia thought, thinking it odd. She opened the wallet, saw some cash, but also noted five hundred-dollar bills in the bottom of the bag. “That’s strange, isn’t it, Chief?”

“You mean that whoever killed him didn’t take his valuables and the cash? Yes, it is. A’ course, anyone’s first guess is that Dwayne was murdered, ya know, on account . . .”

“On account of him losing his head, sure,” she finished.

“Right. But, uh, the cause of the decapitation itself was officially labeled as ‘undetermined.’ In other words, the coroner wasn’t convinced it was a murder. Could’ve been a fluke accident, who knows?”

Patricia withheld an overt frown. Instead she asked, “Is it true that no one ever found . . .”

“Dwayne’s head? Yeah, that is true, I’m afraid.”

Patricia doubted it was an accident, but the point wasn’t worth belaboring. Oh, well. An “undetermined” decapitation. “I’ll put this in a safe place, Chief,” she assured him, “and show it to Judy when the time is right.”

“Thanks much, Patricia. And thanks for comin’ all this way. It means an awful lot to Judy.” He shook her hand again. “But I’d best get along now. I’m sure I’ll be seein’ ya again before you leave.”

“I hope so, Chief. Good-bye for now.”

Chief Sutter wended off through the crowd. I guess I’ll put this in the den , Patricia concluded of the bag, but in her mind it kept occurring to her that the only thing stranger than the notion of the decapitation’s being an accident was Chief Sutter’s sudden uneasiness when talking about it at all.

Like something bothered him more than the obvious facts. Dwayne’s death was indeed a mystery, but . . .

It’s almost like the chief knows more than he’s telling, she thought. she looked into the living room and was content to see Judy on the couch, surrounded by friends. She’s getting drunk again, but she’s more than entitled to do that today. Then she slipped off down the hall and switched on the light in the small den that Judy used for an office.