daughter had sinned by cheating on
her husband and had compounded the matter by taking her own life.
“I can’t make head nor tails out of
it, Henry.” He dropped his cigarette on
the ground, stamped it out. “Now, the
medical examiner hasn’t finished all the toxicology tests, but I tend to think
the simplest explanation’s the best and that gunshot wound in the head’s as
simple as it gets. I’ll know more in a
few days, but for now I’m telling the district attorney it’s an open murder
investigation. We got no useful
fingerprints and no weapon.” He
hesitated a moment, then looked at Henry. “Did Tammy own a gun?”
Mr. Teasdale nodded as he flicked his cigarette away. “She had a twenty-two. A pistol.”
“Hmmm, ‘at’s the caliber what killed her, but there weren’t no gun at the house. That’s what got me thinking it was a murder. You know, like someone broke in the house and
found the gun and then Tammy walked in on him…” He rolled his shoulders to say ‘you know the
rest.’
Mr. Teasdale looked off at the horizon and squinted. “You said you got evidence of suicide
too. What’s that about?” Henry thought he’d cleaned things up pretty
good. He didn’t like hearing the word
‘evidence.’
The sheriff folded his arms and looked to the ground for a
moment. “Well, like I said, I was
thinking it looked like an open-shut murder case right up until we found some
clippings from a magazine in the trash can, then we found the magazine with
letters cut out of it, you know, like a ransom note situation? Once we figured out what letters were
missing, we pieced ‘em together and came up with some options, but do you know
the only one that made any sense was the word ‘depressed’? That’s what got me thinking about suicide.”
“Is that right?”
“Henry, I know it’s happened before in your family and I
just want you to know that I’m not saying it was suicide because, well, like I
said, this one ain’t on all fours. I
don’t wanna be calling it something’s it’s not, especially if it’s gonna hurt
your family.”
“I appreciate that.”
“So I’m trying to figure out why an intruder would cut out a
bunch of letters from a magazine to spell the word ‘depressed’ but then not do
anything with it. Know what I mean? On the other hand, if Tammy cut out the
letters for a suicide note and then killed herself, where’s the note and
where’s the gun? I suppose an intruder
could have stumbled into the house after she killed herself, if that’s what
happened, and he’da taken the gun, but why take the note, assuming there was a
note, you know?” The sheriff shook his
head. “Like I said, it’s got me
stumped.”
“That’s a mess all right. Just don’t make much sense any way you look at it.”
“No. It don’t .” The sheriff
turned to go back inside. “I’ll let you
know soon as we find anything out.” He
stopped and put his hand on Mr. Teasdale’s shoulder. “Henry, I’m real sorry about all this. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Henry nodded, said thanks, and went back inside.
A few hours later, when most of the mourners were either
gone or drunk, Eddie and Henry were off to the side of the living room having a
heart-to-heart. “Son, I’m hurting pretty
bad,” Henry said, “and I suspect you feel the same or worse. I wish there was something I could say, but I
can’t improve on anything the preacher said and he didn’t do much to make me
feel any better.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Teasdale. I’m real sorry I was gone. Maybe if I’da been here, none of this
would’ve happened.”
Henry put his arm around Eddie. “Don’t do that to yourself, son. If you’da been here, you might be dead
too.” In truth he was thinking that if
Eddie had been here, then whoever it was Tammy had been sleeping with might be
the one who
her husband and had compounded the matter by taking her own life.
“I can’t make head nor tails out of
it, Henry.” He dropped his cigarette on
the ground, stamped it out. “Now, the
medical examiner hasn’t finished all the toxicology tests, but I tend to think
the simplest explanation’s the best and that gunshot wound in the head’s as
simple as it gets. I’ll know more in a
few days, but for now I’m telling the district attorney it’s an open murder
investigation. We got no useful
fingerprints and no weapon.” He
hesitated a moment, then looked at Henry. “Did Tammy own a gun?”
Mr. Teasdale nodded as he flicked his cigarette away. “She had a twenty-two. A pistol.”
“Hmmm, ‘at’s the caliber what killed her, but there weren’t no gun at the house. That’s what got me thinking it was a murder. You know, like someone broke in the house and
found the gun and then Tammy walked in on him…” He rolled his shoulders to say ‘you know the
rest.’
Mr. Teasdale looked off at the horizon and squinted. “You said you got evidence of suicide
too. What’s that about?” Henry thought he’d cleaned things up pretty
good. He didn’t like hearing the word
‘evidence.’
The sheriff folded his arms and looked to the ground for a
moment. “Well, like I said, I was
thinking it looked like an open-shut murder case right up until we found some
clippings from a magazine in the trash can, then we found the magazine with
letters cut out of it, you know, like a ransom note situation? Once we figured out what letters were
missing, we pieced ‘em together and came up with some options, but do you know
the only one that made any sense was the word ‘depressed’? That’s what got me thinking about suicide.”
“Is that right?”
“Henry, I know it’s happened before in your family and I
just want you to know that I’m not saying it was suicide because, well, like I
said, this one ain’t on all fours. I
don’t wanna be calling it something’s it’s not, especially if it’s gonna hurt
your family.”
“I appreciate that.”
“So I’m trying to figure out why an intruder would cut out a
bunch of letters from a magazine to spell the word ‘depressed’ but then not do
anything with it. Know what I mean? On the other hand, if Tammy cut out the
letters for a suicide note and then killed herself, where’s the note and
where’s the gun? I suppose an intruder
could have stumbled into the house after she killed herself, if that’s what
happened, and he’da taken the gun, but why take the note, assuming there was a
note, you know?” The sheriff shook his
head. “Like I said, it’s got me
stumped.”
“That’s a mess all right. Just don’t make much sense any way you look at it.”
“No. It don’t .” The sheriff
turned to go back inside. “I’ll let you
know soon as we find anything out.” He
stopped and put his hand on Mr. Teasdale’s shoulder. “Henry, I’m real sorry about all this. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Henry nodded, said thanks, and went back inside.
A few hours later, when most of the mourners were either
gone or drunk, Eddie and Henry were off to the side of the living room having a
heart-to-heart. “Son, I’m hurting pretty
bad,” Henry said, “and I suspect you feel the same or worse. I wish there was something I could say, but I
can’t improve on anything the preacher said and he didn’t do much to make me
feel any better.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Teasdale. I’m real sorry I was gone. Maybe if I’da been here, none of this
would’ve happened.”
Henry put his arm around Eddie. “Don’t do that to yourself, son. If you’da been here, you might be dead
too.” In truth he was thinking that if
Eddie had been here, then whoever it was Tammy had been sleeping with might be
the one who
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