Wild Hearts. Sharon Sala
been kicked in the gut. She shoved her fingers through her hair, absently rubbing the five-inch scar on the side of her head. Her hair hid its presence, but when she was upset it throbbed with every beat of her heart, and today was no exception. The shock of seeing Dick’s body had created a feeling of déjà vu, which made no sense. She’d never seen a traumatic death before.
She stood abruptly, unable to sit still any longer, and began to pace the length of the porch and back, anxious for the sheriff to arrive so she could give her statement and move on.
When her phone began to ring, she glanced at the caller ID and then let it go to voice mail. It was her daughter, Trina, and she would never be able to hide anything from her.
She heard a phone begin to ring inside the house and felt like crying all over again. Someone wanted to talk to Dick. Would they weep when they found out, or would they feel nothing more than a passing moment of regret for a good man gone, then forget he’d ever existed?
When she began hearing sirens, she actually breathed a sigh of relief. All she wanted to do was go home and be grateful for what she had.
The sirens grew louder, and she saw the officer come running toward the house. She glanced down at her blouse, and when she saw how dirty she was, she began brushing at the dust and grass on her clothes, then wondered if her hair was just as bad. After she took it down and shook it out, and then combed it back with her fingers, she once again fastened it at the nape of her neck. She was as ready as she’d ever be.
* * *
Sheriff Dewey Osmond arrived on the scene with a knot in his gut. Dick Phillips was a fishing buddy, and he couldn’t believe this had happened. When he saw the police officer waving for him to stop, he braked and rolled down the window.
“What?” he asked.
“Chief Jakes figured you would want to park up around the house so as not to mess up any tracks or stuff you might find on-site.”
Osmond nodded, wheeled up beside the city patrol car and killed the engine. He saw the woman on the porch when he got out.
“Who’s she?” he asked.
“Betsy Jakes, Chief’s mother. She came to buy eggs and found the body in the barn.”
Dewey broke out in a sweat. He was going to have to go down there, and he was dreading it in the worst way. He decided the best way to begin this investigation was to take the witness’s statement.
Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she had next to nothing to say that was going to help them figure this out. He took down her information and said for her to call him if she remembered anything else.
“Am I free to go?” Betsy asked.
“Yes, ma’am, and thank you for your help.”
Betsy shuddered. “I would give anything to have never seen that,” she said. “Will you tell my son I’m leaving now?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and headed for the barn as Betsy got in her car and drove back to town for eggs.
* * *
Trey watched the sheriff’s team work the crime scene without comment. It wasn’t his case and he didn’t want to step on toes, but he had a personal request, and as soon as the sheriff stepped outside of the barn to take a call, Trey followed him. He approached after the sheriff disconnected.
“Hey, Dewey, I need a favor,” Trey said.
Dewey turned around, eyeing him curiously. Dick had talked about Trey Jakes like he was family. He wondered if Trey felt as gutted as he did.
“Like what?” Dewey asked.
“Notifying the next of kin. I’d like to do that, if you wouldn’t mind. Dick’s daughter, Dallas, and I go back a long way, and this is going to hit her hard.”
Ah, the daughter. So that’s where the connection came in.
“I don’t mind,” Dewey said. “That’s the worst part of the job, isn’t it?”
Trey nodded. “I know the autopsy and your investigation will all play into the cause of death, but how do you want me to state it to her? Apparent suicide?”
“Yes, that’s how I read it, but make sure she knows the final ruling will depend on the autopsy. The coroner is on the way to claim the body. He should be here shortly.”
“I’ll give her your contact information if she has further questions, okay?”
“Yes, and give her my condolences. Dick and I were good friends. I can’t believe he did this. I don’t want to believe he did this,” he muttered.
“Are your men through inside the house?”
Osmond nodded. “There was no suicide note. The coffeepot was still on, and as usual, the house was spick-and-span.”
“Then it’s okay if I go inside?”
“Yeah, but why?” Osmond asked.
“I need to get a new contact number for Dallas. I haven’t talked to her in several years, not since she moved to Charleston.”
“Okay,” Osmond said, and then wiped sweat off his forehead and headed back into the barn as Trey went to the house.
Trey entered through the back door of the utility room and, out of habit, cleaned his feet on the throw rug at the threshold. The layout was exactly as he remembered, and he headed straight through into the kitchen, then into the living room to the landline by the recliner. He could picture Dick kicked back in that chair and talking on the phone with the television on mute. He’d seen him do it a hundred times. He wondered if Dallas would keep the place. It had been in the Phillips family for over a hundred and fifty years. It would be a shame for that heritage to be lost.
He sat down in the recliner to use Dick’s phone book and turned to the back page where special numbers were listed. Dallas’s number was the first one.
He started to call her from that phone, then added it to his cell phone instead and left the house. It didn’t seem right to call the daughter on her daddy’s phone and then tell her he was dead.
He got in his cruiser, reached for the radio and told Avery he would be back in town shortly, then put in a call to his mom to make sure she was okay. He drove away while waiting for her to answer, and when she did she sounded breathless.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom, I’m just checking in with you. How are you doing?”
“Honey, I’m fine. There’s a big knot in my stomach, and I wish to God I hadn’t been the one to find him, but it happened. It’s over. I’ll be sad for him and life will go on. I’m on my way home now. I went back to town to get eggs.”
“Okay, and don’t feel bad for freaking out. It rattled me, too, and don’t think it didn’t. I thought a lot of Dick, and I’m having a really hard time believing this happened.”
“Me, too,” Betsy said. “It’s unlike the man I thought I knew. Look, I haven’t said a word to anyone, and I’m not going to, but has anyone notified Dallas yet?”
“No, and that’s on me. Sheriff just gave me the green light, and I stopped in at the house to get her number. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I’m still making Italian cream cake for your birthday tomorrow,” she said.
Trey smiled. “In case I don’t tell you often enough, I think you’re the best mom ever, and I love you.”
He heard her giggle, which made him smile.
“Thank you, honey. I love you, too,” she said, and disconnected.
Trey topped a hill and drove up on an old man driving an equally old tractor in the middle of the blacktop. He couldn’t pass, so he took this as the opportunity to pull off the road to call Dallas.