is dead. Somebody shot her. But not Daddy.”
The child fell asleep in her arms and she gently laid him on the bed and covered him.
After Immy’d seen the grotesque body of Zack’s father, skewered through the shoulder onto a meat hook and swinging slightly from the breeze of the open smokehouse door, she’d shoved the heavy door shut and run back to the house. The thought had flitted through her head that she should take her time and investigate the scene of the crime, but she was afraid she might throw up all over the evidence if she lingered.
After a whispered consultation with Tinnie, they’d agreed Immy would take Zack to her house immediately while Tinnie phoned 911. Tinnie had relayed a message to Immy that she should be ready to give a statement later that day or the next.
It didn’t occur to Immy until much later, after Drew’s party that night, that Tinnie hadn’t seemed grief-stricken about her husband being dead.
Mother was now watching a lawyer show in the living room.
“I think I’ll call Tinnie and see what happened after I left.”
“Why? Was something happening?”
“Oh!” Immy hadn’t had a chance to tell her mother about Rusty. “Yes, something was happening. Or had already happened. Let me make sure the kids are sound asleep.”
She peeked in and they were sleeping like a pair of rosy-cheeked cherubs. The room was sweet with bubble bath smell.
“You would think three recitations of Goodnight, Moon would induce somnolence, wouldn’t you?” said Hortense when she returned.
“I don’t know. Drew usually takes four.”
“But tonight it was five. My word, I almost fell asleep myself.”
“Mother, that Rusty Bucket is dead.”
“Yes, I know. I noticed a hole in it the last time I watered the irises. Just throw it away.”
“No, not our rusty bucket, Zack’s father, Rusty Bucket.”
“Zack’s father is dead? Heart attack?”
“Not exactly. I found him...hanging in the smokehouse. On a meathook.”
Hortense’s eyes grew to their fullest, then spilled tears. “Oh, my poor baby. You had to find him?” She rose and pressed Immy to her bosom. “Life is not fair.”
When Hortense returned to her television viewing chair, Immy said, “He was murdered, Mother. He had to have been.”
“I don’t suppose one could commit suicide that way,” said Hortense.
“Well, he should have killed himself. You know who else was in there?”
“Two people were hanging from meat hooks?” Hortense muted the television and set her iced tea on the wobbly table next to the recliner. She must have been feeling a tad better because a thick layer of sugar lay on the bottom of her glass.
“No, the other body was on the floor. Not a person. Gretchen. The pig that got shot. She hasn’t been skinned yet. I could see two bullet holes in her dear head. Poor thing. It looked to me like Rusty was thinking of making jerky out of her. Can you believe that?”
“I presume his spouse doesn’t know of those intentions.”
“Zack just told me that she does. I’m going to call Tinnie to see what’s going on and how she’s doing. Unless she’s left for her mother’s.”
“Offer her a casserole, dear.”
“Of course.”
The phone at Tinnie’s house rang and rang. Immy didn’t have a cell phone number for her. “I guess I’ll ask Ralph. Oh gosh! I’ll bet the chief and Ralph had to go there to suss out the scene.”
“One would hope so.”
“But they both got food poisoning too.”
Hortense had gotten up and dipped a finger in the icing of the left-over cake. If she was feeling better, maybe the other two were recovered. “Maybe you should offer to bring them the rest of my Kaopectate.”
“Mother, you drank it from the bottle.”
She nodded. “Yes, I’d forgotten about that. You should wipe the brim.”
Hortense unmuted the drama and Immy went outside to call Ralph. She knew that he and the chief would be handling the call since they had jurisdiction for Cowtail, which
The child fell asleep in her arms and she gently laid him on the bed and covered him.
After Immy’d seen the grotesque body of Zack’s father, skewered through the shoulder onto a meat hook and swinging slightly from the breeze of the open smokehouse door, she’d shoved the heavy door shut and run back to the house. The thought had flitted through her head that she should take her time and investigate the scene of the crime, but she was afraid she might throw up all over the evidence if she lingered.
After a whispered consultation with Tinnie, they’d agreed Immy would take Zack to her house immediately while Tinnie phoned 911. Tinnie had relayed a message to Immy that she should be ready to give a statement later that day or the next.
It didn’t occur to Immy until much later, after Drew’s party that night, that Tinnie hadn’t seemed grief-stricken about her husband being dead.
Mother was now watching a lawyer show in the living room.
“I think I’ll call Tinnie and see what happened after I left.”
“Why? Was something happening?”
“Oh!” Immy hadn’t had a chance to tell her mother about Rusty. “Yes, something was happening. Or had already happened. Let me make sure the kids are sound asleep.”
She peeked in and they were sleeping like a pair of rosy-cheeked cherubs. The room was sweet with bubble bath smell.
“You would think three recitations of Goodnight, Moon would induce somnolence, wouldn’t you?” said Hortense when she returned.
“I don’t know. Drew usually takes four.”
“But tonight it was five. My word, I almost fell asleep myself.”
“Mother, that Rusty Bucket is dead.”
“Yes, I know. I noticed a hole in it the last time I watered the irises. Just throw it away.”
“No, not our rusty bucket, Zack’s father, Rusty Bucket.”
“Zack’s father is dead? Heart attack?”
“Not exactly. I found him...hanging in the smokehouse. On a meathook.”
Hortense’s eyes grew to their fullest, then spilled tears. “Oh, my poor baby. You had to find him?” She rose and pressed Immy to her bosom. “Life is not fair.”
When Hortense returned to her television viewing chair, Immy said, “He was murdered, Mother. He had to have been.”
“I don’t suppose one could commit suicide that way,” said Hortense.
“Well, he should have killed himself. You know who else was in there?”
“Two people were hanging from meat hooks?” Hortense muted the television and set her iced tea on the wobbly table next to the recliner. She must have been feeling a tad better because a thick layer of sugar lay on the bottom of her glass.
“No, the other body was on the floor. Not a person. Gretchen. The pig that got shot. She hasn’t been skinned yet. I could see two bullet holes in her dear head. Poor thing. It looked to me like Rusty was thinking of making jerky out of her. Can you believe that?”
“I presume his spouse doesn’t know of those intentions.”
“Zack just told me that she does. I’m going to call Tinnie to see what’s going on and how she’s doing. Unless she’s left for her mother’s.”
“Offer her a casserole, dear.”
“Of course.”
The phone at Tinnie’s house rang and rang. Immy didn’t have a cell phone number for her. “I guess I’ll ask Ralph. Oh gosh! I’ll bet the chief and Ralph had to go there to suss out the scene.”
“One would hope so.”
“But they both got food poisoning too.”
Hortense had gotten up and dipped a finger in the icing of the left-over cake. If she was feeling better, maybe the other two were recovered. “Maybe you should offer to bring them the rest of my Kaopectate.”
“Mother, you drank it from the bottle.”
She nodded. “Yes, I’d forgotten about that. You should wipe the brim.”
Hortense unmuted the drama and Immy went outside to call Ralph. She knew that he and the chief would be handling the call since they had jurisdiction for Cowtail, which
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