Johnny stroked his chin, pacing back and forth between the two spots where Caledonia said he fell and where they found him dead.

  “That’s what happened, Chief. I swear.”

  He raised his voice to call for Mary Alice. “Mary Alice, can you come over here now?”

  When she joined them, Johnny said, “Can you show us what you saw transpire between Virgil and Caledonia?”

  “Sure, Chief. I saw Caledonia standing right about here.”

  “Where were you when you saw her?”

  Mary Alice pointed toward the row of bushes she’d hid behind. “Over yonder behind the bushes.”

  He nodded at Hank, and Hank began walking toward the bushes she’d indicated.

  Johnny turned back to Mary Alice. “Okay, continue.”

  “Well, I saw him reach for her, and her arm shot up and the next thing I know, she bonked him on top of the head, and he fell right at her feet.”

  Johnny nodded, and Caledonia clapped her hands together and went to Mary Alice. “Thank you so much for telling the truth.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Mary Alice snapped.

  “I just mean thank you for validating my story.”

  Mary Alice had a perturbed look on her face. “Sure. No skin off my nose.”

  Johnny approached her. “One more thing, Mary Alice. Can you show us what transpired once you got here?”

  Mary Alice took them through her argument with Virgil, and she told them how he’d made her so mad she tried to hit him but missed. She said it was then that she realized what she was doing.

  “I snapped out of it, I guess. Or at least I came to my senses. I walked away. Chief, he was still alive when I left him.”

  “Well if you only hit him once,” Johnny turned to Caledonia, “and you didn’t hit him at all,” he turned to Mary Alice, “then who the heck hit him the second time?”

  Twenty-six

  A liar’s worst enemy is someone with a good memory.

  –Dodinsky

  Wednesday, nine a.m., five days after Dead Virgil

  “Chief, Caledonia Culpepper is here to see you.”

  “Send her on back.”

  Caledonia swept in wearing a bright yellow dress and a concerned expression.

  “What’s up, Caledonia? You come to confess again?”

  “Hush it, Chief. I was only doing what I thought was right.”

  “I’m sorry, Caledonia. I’m just teasing you. You look too serious.”

  “Well, I remembered something that’s kind of got me puzzled.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “I do say. Last night, I was sound asleep until I wasn’t.”

  Johnny laughed.

  “What I mean is that something woke me up in the middle of the night, and my eyes flew open, and I suddenly remembered that Virgil had brought a racket with him that night. But nobody’s mentioned anything about it. I remember seeing it on the bench next to where my stuff was. It was there when I left that night. It may be nothing, but it kept nudging at me, so I thought I should tell you about it.”

  Johnny sat perfectly still for a few moments. Suddenly, he jumped up, rounded his desk, and planted a kiss on Caledonia’s cheek. “I’m glad you did. Thanks for coming in.”

  He hurried behind his desk and called Bernadette. “Are Officers Witherspoon and Beanblossom here or out on patrol?”

  “She’s here, Chief. Hank got a call from Louis P. He drove over there to talk to him. He said you knew he was supposed to talk to him anyway, so he didn’t run it by you first.”

  “Excellent. Ask Velveeta to come to my office, please. And find Hank and tell him not to waste any daylight getting back here.”

  Caledonia hovered at the door, not sure of what to do. “Do you need me for anything else, Chief?”

  Johnny looked up and smiled. “That’ll do, Caledonia. You have a real good day.”

  “I’ll try, Chief. You do the same.”

  Just as she walked out of Johnny’s office, Velveeta hurried in. “What’s up, Chief?”

  “Did we get the fingerprint results back on the tennis racket yet?”

  “Yes. Caledonia’s were the only ones on it. Why?”

  “What if there were two rackets there that night?”

  “What are you talking about, Chief? You been dipping into the Goose Juice? You know there was only one racket at the scene.”

  “Yes, I do. But I now also know there were two rackets at the court that night.”

  Velveeta’s mouth fell open, forming an O shape. “Is that what Caledonia was doing here?”

  “Yep. She said she remembered seeing Virgil bring a racket with him and set it on the bench next to where she had her stuff. She said it was niggling at her because nobody had mentioned two rackets.”

  “Nobody mentioned two rackets because there was only one.”

  Johnny pointed at her with a flourish. “Which means the one at the scene isn’t the murder weapon.”

  “So the one that’s missing is the murder weapon, and it’s still out there. And we gotta find it.”

  Johnny slammed his hand on the desk. “Booya.” He turned to the dry-erase board and studied it. “Go find Hank. Both of you come back here. We have work to do.”

  Hank pulled into the parking lot of Louis P’s office and noticed Jack’s car also parked there. His brow crinkled as he entered the building and walked into Louis P’s outer office.

  “Jack. I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  “I didn’t expect to be here. Louis P. called and asked me to come over.”

  Mabel the receptionist hung up the phone. “You can go on back, Mr. Wright.”

  “Hank, you come with me. This should be interesting.”

  Hank and Jack went in the office and settled into the chairs in front of Louis P’s desk, both waiting expectantly for what the attorney was going to say.

  Louis appeared uncomfortable, and it took him several moments of small talk to get to the point.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly, Officer. I called Jack here to give him the name of the owner of the LLC that bought his property, and I have some information for you, too.”

  “I thought that was privileged information,” Jack said.

  “It was. But it’s come to my attention that the LLC has been registered in the state of Tennessee–”

  Jack interrupted him. “Which requires the names of all owners and is public record.”

  “Correct. I had originally been instructed to wait until after the election and then to file in Tennessee. So this morning I began to register it in Tennessee, and lo and behold, I found that someone else has already filed. My name is listed as organizer, but the sole living owner is also now listed.”

  “Sole. Living?” Hank repeated.

  “Yes. Buford Goodwin is now the sole owner. Virgil had been an owner, and I assume this will be a hornet’s nest trying to get all the legalities ironed out for his beneficiaries. It was at least half his money, after all. But it would appear that Buford has decided to try to bypass that and claim sole ownership. In any event, I think that’s the information you needed. Since Virgil is dead and the LLC is now public record, there’s no need for me to remain silent.”

  Hank let out a snort. “I’d say not.” He thought for a moment and continued. “So . . . what you’re saying is Buford and Virgil were in on this together? Did they have anything to do with the Goose Juice or was that just an unhappy coincidence?”

  “I rarely believe in coincidences. But that brings me to the piece of information I have for you, Officer.” He pulled a piece of paper out from under a pile. “Before Virgil died, he said he had a bad feeling. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, only that is was spelled out in this document which Virgil left with me as a precaution.”

  Jack spoke up. “You’re sounding cryptic.”

  Louis handed Hank the piece of paper. “This is a sworn statement that was sealed until this morning. I’d forgotten about it, but something jogged my memory today. I was told to open it and divulge its contents only in the event of Virgil’s death.”

  Hank read the document. “It says here he had knowledge of Buford deliberately poisoning the Goose Juice.”

  “Yes. Virgil said in the statement that Buford thought he had to do that in order to make Jack’s property . . . uh . . . available. They fought about it several times. Virgil was against hurting anyone but felt powerless to stop him. However, he was nervous enough about Buford’s’ extracurricular activities to write this statement just in case something happened to him.”

  “He coulda come to the law!” Hank’s hand slapped the desk.

  “Yes, but then he would be indicting himself in a way,” Louis supposed. “His scheme to cheat Jack out of the land would be exposed. Everything he had was riding on getting that hotel built. It was his sole focus. Becoming mayor would have been advantageous, but he didn’t really care about it. He was here to develop tourism. And become rich.”

  Hank looked from the document to Louis. “So Buford set up the still and the poisoning? Over a lousy hotel? Did he intentionally kill those people? Did he kill Virgil?”

  “That, I don’t know. All I know is what Virgil put in the statement.”

  “Did Buford threaten you to vote yes on the zoning change?”

  Louis’s face hardened, but he nodded. “Yes. Yes, he did. He threatened to expose a fact about my past that I’d just as soon not make public. He had something on three of us, and Virgil paid off the fourth. I’m sorry, Jack. My hands really were tied. I was Virgil’s lawyer for the LLC, and Buford had me dead to rights.”

  Jack sat back and crossed his arms. “You can make it up to me by drawing up papers to buy back my land.”

  Hank’s cell phone buzzed. He glanced at a text and stood. “And Buford Goodwin can sign them behind bars. Thank you, gentlemen. I got to get going.”

  Twenty-seven

  Things come apart so easily when they have been held together with lies.–Dorothy Allison

  Wednesday, nine-thirty a.m., five days after Dead Virgil

  Back at the station, Velveeta resembled a tennis match spectator as she watched Hank and Johnny talk over one another. Each was chomping at the bit to tell what he knew.

  Johnny whistled and made a timeout hand signal. “Hold up, y’all. Slow down. Let’s do this step by step. We have six deaths. Five of them were homicidal poisoning or by accident—we still don’t know for sure. And we don’t know for sure if Virgil’s death is connected. So let’s compare notes and narrow this list down.” He pointed to the dry-erase board with the list of possible suspects.

  Hank let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, we do, Chief. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “We do what, Hank?”

  “We do know the five deaths were homicidal poisonings. They were intentional.” Hank filled in Velveeta and Johnny on what Louis had just divulged. He handed Johnny the document, which was now in a plastic evidence bag.

  “Holy moley,” Johnny said.

  Velveeta was incredulous. “He killed people in order to get the land? That’s cold, dude.”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Johnny read the document Hank had given him. “All of this is from the mouth of Louis. How do we know he’s telling the truth? How do we know he didn’t work up this little document after Virgil died?”

  “It says the notary was Mable Davis, Louis’s assistant,” Hank pointed out. I checked with her on my way out of Louis’s office. I didn’t ask any leading questions, but her recollection matched what Louis told me. She confirmed notarizing it.”

  Johnny turned to Hank. “She could be in on it with Louis. Or maybe Louis threatened her.”

  “Johnny, she was believable.”

  “Did Louis implicate Buford in Virgil’s death too?”

  “No. He didn’t go that far. But evidently that’s why Virgil went to the trouble to draw up that document. I guess their relationship was getting contentious. And since Virgil had knowledge about Buford, he was probably a little worried about his own safety.”

  Velveeta crossed her arms over her stomach. “But if Buford killed Virgil, why wouldn’t he just give him some of that dad-blamed Goose Juice? Nobody would have been the wiser.”

  “I’d say that’s a question for Buford.”

  Hank nodded. “Or something that will be answered by the coroner’s tests.”

  “That certainly puts a halt to our meeting. Let’s go get Buford and bring him back for questioning. And let’s go loaded for bear. The man’s killed at least five people. Who knows what this lunatic is capable of.”

  Noon

  Buford wasn’t at his office, so the three officers went to his home. Buford lived alone, and his car was in the drive. Johnny knocked.

  Buford answered the door with a friendly welcome. “Hey, y’all. Come on in. How about a drink of something or other? I got Coke, Sebnup, Mtn Dew–”

  The officers exchanged a look, and Johnny declined for all of them.

  “Well, come on back and keep me company while I finish my last supper.” Buford gestured with exaggerated arm movements and led them to the kitchen. His gait was a little wonky, and he plopped down at the table where there was a giant cupcake from Killer Cupcakes on a plate and a glass three-fourths full of a clear beverage. The cupcake had one bite out of it.

  “I’d offer you a cupcake, but this is the only one I got. If I’da known you were coming . . .” He laughed and took a bite followed by a big sip.

  “But you did know we were coming, didn’t you, Buford?” Johnny said quietly, sliding into a chair beside him at the table, keeping his hand on his holster. Velveeta remained behind Buford, and Hank stood to the side.

  Buford nodded. When he spoke, he slurred his words. “I got kind of close with an assistant over in Louis P’s office. She told me you–” he indicated Hank, pointing haphazardly, “and Jack had been at the office this morning, and she let it slip about Virgil’s letter. The whole office is talking about it. I put two and two together.”

  “So this is your last meal before you go to jail?” Johnny said.

  Buford downed half the glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yup. Something like that.” Buford grabbed the cupcake and took another bite.

  “Why don’t you give us your side of the story?”

  “Well, I ‘spect y’all think I’m the one behind the Goose Juice. But Virgil made me do it.”

  “That’s your word against a dead man’s,” Johnny pointed out.

  “True. And if I’m responsible for five deaths, what’s another lie or two, huh?” He took another bite of cupcake and wiped the frosting off his mouth with his shirttail.

  “Are you revising your previous statement?”

  He hung his head. “I guess so. I was just so jazzed about that darn hotel, y’all. And Jack’s land was the perfect spot for it. The view over there, mmmm, mmm.” He gazed out the window dreamily and shook his head. “It woulda been perfect.”

  “Did you intentionally kill those people, Buford?”

  “Not at first. They shoulda all ended up in the ER if they’d had a lick of sense.”

  “I expect they got drunk, fell asleep, and never woke up,” Johnny surmised.

  “Could be. I will admit to killing the last two on purpose. I needed a way to scare old Virgil in line. It worked too. He got scared. Maybe too scared.”

  “Did you kill him too, Buford?”

  “Naw.” He took another drink, finished the glass, and stood. He refilled the glass from a pitcher in the refrigerator and sat back down. “I didn’t kill him. And I’m not lying. I really didn’t.”

  “Do you know who did?” Velveeta asked.

  “Naw. I don’t.”

  “Did you involve anyone else in this scheme?”

  “Well, I hired some people to set up and run the still. But they didn’t know about the poison. And no, I won’t tell you who they are.” He raised his voice. “I’ll take that to my grave.”

  “Why’d you register the LLC so soon? Why not wait and let things die down?”

  “Hmpf. I miss-calca . . . calcu . . . calculated that.” He hiccoughed. “I didn’t count on Louis being so on the ball. I figured I could do it and nobody would know until later. I also didn’t count on Virgil being dead.”

  “Did Buck have anything to do with this?”

  “No.”

  “Louis?”

  “No.”

  “No one else? It was all you?”

  “Yes. Allllll me. Jusht me.” He poked his finger into his chest.

  “Buford, you’re sloshed, aren’t you?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. I am.” He giggled.

  Johnny looked at Hank. “Call for a bus. He needs to get to the ER.”

  Hank reached for his shoulder mic but asked, “What for?”

  Johnny addressed Buford. “Because you’re drinking some of your special Goose Juice, aren’t you?”

  Buford’s giggles subsided. He raised his glass in mid-air. “I sure am. And I made this batch extra potent. Cheers.” He’d downed the whole glass before Johnny could snatch it from his hand.

  He stared at Johnny for several seconds, his empty hand in the air, and then he slumped forward, his face landing in the remaining portion of cupcake.

  Velveeta stepped forward, swiped her finger through the icing, and said, “They say these cupcakes are to die for.”

  Twenty-eight

  I have trust issues because people have lying issues.

  –Anonymous

  Wednesday, five p.m., five days after Dead Virgil

  They got Buford to the hospital, but the doctor thought it might be too late.

  “His kidney function is already faltering, and he hasn’t regained consciousness. Frankly, I doubt he will.”

  “Keep me posted,” Johnny ordered.

  Back at the station, Hank, Velveeta, and Johnny reconvened to discuss Virgil’s murder.