Read Online Effigies by Mary Anna Evans - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mary Anna Evans
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top of that mound. Nobody goes up there but me.”
An odor like incense wafted out of the kitchen, along with laughter and the voices of a covey of old men. Could they possibly be smoking pot in there? With the sheriff in the next room?
The cabin’s windows were open. They looked out on another cabin so close that Faye could have reached out her window and snagged a piece of coconut cake off the kitchen table. Smoking pot in such close quarters was nuts.
Everybody got interested in their toes again. Faye couldn’t get a good look at Neely’s face. After a few minutes, the sheriff closed the empty jar and wiped off the spoon. Sliding them into the bag, she pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned her father’s mouth. “There, Daddy. Did that taste good?” She wheeled the old man’s wheelchair out into the night.
Fragrant smoke continued to fill the room.
It was dark and she couldn’t see his face, but Faye could tell that Joe was perturbed. His disapproval filled the still evening air.
What made him so special that nobody else could play his little lookout game with him? Anyone with eyes could see that Neely Rutland would not be spending tonight perched atop Calhoun’s mound. Nobody was superhuman, though Neely would like to be. She was probably even now lying face-down and dreamless on a cot at the Neshoba County Fairgrounds.
While Neely’s deputies would surely be arriving any minute now for another night’s watch, there could be no substitute for having a sentry on the high ground. Yet she had plainly said that nobody would be climbing the mound but her. Her deputies would need help. Joe was more than happy to provide it, but he had proved notably resistant to the idea that Faye might be able to help. Too bad. She was crouched beside him beneath a tree made invisible by the moonless night. He’d just have to learn to live with it.
Her supper roiled in her stomach. The plateful of roast beef, gravy, rice, macaroni salad, and green beans, while undeniably delicious, was not sitting well atop the afternoon’s beers. Or the afternoon’s interpersonal nastiness. She and Joe had escaped the Fair as quickly as they could manage it, without showing weakness in the face of Silver and his cronies.
Stopping at a diner where they could linger over tasty food loaded with grease and salt had seemed comforting at the time. For dessert, she and Joe had enjoyed a tremendous argument over whether he needed her to help him in his self-appointed role of Chief Mound Protector. She had won, since Joe wasn’t in the habit of telling her No, so now she sat beside him, suffering from indigestion and his festering disapproval.
A tremendous grind and roar split the night. Beams from twin headlights jiggled frantically as the tractor behind them raced across the uneven terrain between Calhoun’s house and the mound.
“He’s doing it again,” Faye said out loud, knowing that Calhoun wouldn’t hear her over the tractor’s din. “He’s stoned, and he knows Neely’s half-dead with fatigue, and he thinks he can get away with it.” She yanked her phone out of her pocket and dialed 911. “We’ve got an emergency. I don’t know the address, but we’re in a field right across the road from the Nail house. We’re on Carroll Calhoun’s land. He’s, um…he’s threatening people with his tractor.” That seemed close enough to the truth, and it should bring a prompt response. She listened a moment. “Yeah, you can send an ambulance, just in case, but what we really need are some armed deputies. And Sheriff Rutland.”
The tractor’s gears shrieked, and it took an abrupt right turn. When Faye saw where it was now headed, she hurled the phone to the ground and started running. She needed to stop this.
How could she stop it? The destructive edge of the tractor’s blade was headed for the faint remnant of one of the berms she thought she’d seen from atop the mound. A wing. He was going to scrape up one of the eagle’s
An odor like incense wafted out of the kitchen, along with laughter and the voices of a covey of old men. Could they possibly be smoking pot in there? With the sheriff in the next room?
The cabin’s windows were open. They looked out on another cabin so close that Faye could have reached out her window and snagged a piece of coconut cake off the kitchen table. Smoking pot in such close quarters was nuts.
Everybody got interested in their toes again. Faye couldn’t get a good look at Neely’s face. After a few minutes, the sheriff closed the empty jar and wiped off the spoon. Sliding them into the bag, she pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned her father’s mouth. “There, Daddy. Did that taste good?” She wheeled the old man’s wheelchair out into the night.
Fragrant smoke continued to fill the room.
It was dark and she couldn’t see his face, but Faye could tell that Joe was perturbed. His disapproval filled the still evening air.
What made him so special that nobody else could play his little lookout game with him? Anyone with eyes could see that Neely Rutland would not be spending tonight perched atop Calhoun’s mound. Nobody was superhuman, though Neely would like to be. She was probably even now lying face-down and dreamless on a cot at the Neshoba County Fairgrounds.
While Neely’s deputies would surely be arriving any minute now for another night’s watch, there could be no substitute for having a sentry on the high ground. Yet she had plainly said that nobody would be climbing the mound but her. Her deputies would need help. Joe was more than happy to provide it, but he had proved notably resistant to the idea that Faye might be able to help. Too bad. She was crouched beside him beneath a tree made invisible by the moonless night. He’d just have to learn to live with it.
Her supper roiled in her stomach. The plateful of roast beef, gravy, rice, macaroni salad, and green beans, while undeniably delicious, was not sitting well atop the afternoon’s beers. Or the afternoon’s interpersonal nastiness. She and Joe had escaped the Fair as quickly as they could manage it, without showing weakness in the face of Silver and his cronies.
Stopping at a diner where they could linger over tasty food loaded with grease and salt had seemed comforting at the time. For dessert, she and Joe had enjoyed a tremendous argument over whether he needed her to help him in his self-appointed role of Chief Mound Protector. She had won, since Joe wasn’t in the habit of telling her No, so now she sat beside him, suffering from indigestion and his festering disapproval.
A tremendous grind and roar split the night. Beams from twin headlights jiggled frantically as the tractor behind them raced across the uneven terrain between Calhoun’s house and the mound.
“He’s doing it again,” Faye said out loud, knowing that Calhoun wouldn’t hear her over the tractor’s din. “He’s stoned, and he knows Neely’s half-dead with fatigue, and he thinks he can get away with it.” She yanked her phone out of her pocket and dialed 911. “We’ve got an emergency. I don’t know the address, but we’re in a field right across the road from the Nail house. We’re on Carroll Calhoun’s land. He’s, um…he’s threatening people with his tractor.” That seemed close enough to the truth, and it should bring a prompt response. She listened a moment. “Yeah, you can send an ambulance, just in case, but what we really need are some armed deputies. And Sheriff Rutland.”
The tractor’s gears shrieked, and it took an abrupt right turn. When Faye saw where it was now headed, she hurled the phone to the ground and started running. She needed to stop this.
How could she stop it? The destructive edge of the tractor’s blade was headed for the faint remnant of one of the berms she thought she’d seen from atop the mound. A wing. He was going to scrape up one of the eagle’s
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