Hey Diddle Diddle, the Corpse and the Fiddle, page 12
part #2 of A Callie Parrish Mystery Series
"Maum wants you to come home for a minute," Tyrone gasped.
"What's wrong?" Rizzie's eyes panicked. "She hasn't fallen or anything, has she?"
"No, she just wants to talk to you. Told me to ride Sugar to find you, then let you ride her home. Said for me to walk." He dismounted and handed the rope to Rizzie.
"I don't know why Maum needs me, but I gotta go," Rizzie said as she jumped onto the horse and turned back the way Tyrone had come. "I'll catch up with you later."
"Wait, let me pay you," I called.
"Pay me for baskets, pay me for food when I'm in business, but you don't pay me for helping look for a blind woman," Rizzie shouted.
"I gotta get back, too," Tyrone said and ran off behind her.
Big Boy settled down, and I said, "There went our guide."
"You don't need a guide. I know this island," John bragged.
We continued circling the island along the beach, but I thought we might find more clues if we were walking at low tide. When we returned to the campground end of the island, John suggested I show him where we'd found Jane's cane. That proved to be impossible because the waves of high tide covered the area.
"Do you know where you are?" John asked.
"On Surcie Island," Daddy answered without giving me a chance.
"Yes, but do you realize this is an inlet?" John asked. "At low tide, and I mean all the way at low tide, not just when the tide's going out, it's possible to walk across the inlet to Flower Island. There's a bridge from there to the mainland, so even with the Surcie bridge blocked, it would have been possible to remove Jane without a boat by crossing the inlet."
We looked across the water to the opposite shore.
"They're building condos on the other side of Flower Island," Daddy said. "Lots of traffic and new businesses going up over there."
"And maybe lots of places to hide a kidnap victim," Andy added.
Food for thought to me, but Daddy was having thoughts of food.
"Where can we get something to eat?" he asked.
"Two food stands between the music arena and the campground," Andy said.
"We might as well head over there," John said. "Can't see much at high tide."
Both Bob's Best Barbecue and Marie's Grill had reopened for business. The men decided on barbecue and were immediately handed baskets and drinks, but I stepped up to Marie's window and ordered a hamburger, which the server said she'd put on the grill immediately. I took Big Boy to John, Daddy, and Andy. Daddy tied the leash to the table leg. Back in line at Marie's, I heard a familiar voice.
"Whass up?"
I knew that phrase well enough to recognize Bone before turning around.
"Any luck?" he asked.
"No, but did you know that the spot where we found the cane is in an inlet and Jane could have been removed from the island there during low tide? Flower Island is on the other side of the inlet, and Daddy said there's a lot of construction going on over there."
"Yeah, I worked over there some," Bone answered.
"Water witching?" I asked.
"No, I do construction work as well as dousing. Was
helping build a crab restaurant, but the investors backed out of the deal." He lit a cigarette. "The ocean was almost at low tide not long before the storm. Jane could have been taken across or could have walked it herself."
"Not likely she could have gone by herself without her cane."
"Don't forget that storm."
I squeezed my eyes shut to stop tears from coming. If Jane had been walking across the inlet by herself during the storm, she might have been washed into the ocean. She might never be found.
"Hey, I didn't mean to make you cry," Bone said, then ordered two hot dogs. He leaned over me and asked, "Think there's any chance I could comfort you?"
"You're disgusting at times," I said and thought, Most of the time.
"In that case, double the onions," Bone said to the server. "Never can tell." He turned back to me. "Used to be a man who stood by the door at June Bug's club and asked every female to go home with him. 'Course, he said it a lot cruder than that. He swore he got lucky more often than he got slapped." He grinned. "Did you know June Bug's place burned last year? I heard his widowed wife set it on fire."
I made no comment, but I wondered if the guy by the door was one of the reasons Daddy and The Boys had forbidden me to go to June Bug's when I was younger. They hadn't wanted me there after I grew up, either, though I'd been there one time. By the way, I lump my five brothers together with the expression "The Boys." They're all older than I am, but aside from John, they'll probably be "boys" until they're all potbellied and grayhaired or bald.
Since my hamburger had to be cooked to order but Bone's hot dogs came from a rotisserie, he received his order before I did mine. "Want to sit with me?" he asked.
"No, I'm with them," I replied and motioned toward the
table with my father, my brother, my dog, and my hopefully maybe someday boyfriend.
"Good, I'll join 'em," Bone said and headed toward the table.
By the time the server handed me my hamburger, the others had finished eating. "In olden days, dowsers located lots more than water," Bone was saying. "I'm partial to water and usually limit myself to dowsing for water. Water is clean. In my opinion, water is godly. Bread may be the staff of life, but water is the stuff of life, especially ocean water with the salt in it."
My brother John raised his eyebrows and looked at me. I knew he was thinking Bone was "another of Callie's weird friends," not knowing that Bone and I had just met and he certainly was not a friend of mine. At least Bone wasn't a friend of mine, until he added, "Yeah, I don't normally dowse anything except water, but I'm considering using rods to try to locate Jane."
"I'd like to see that," Daddy said. John agreed that he and Daddy would follow Bone to his camper for the "witching" equipment.
"I might try to catch up with you later," I said as they walked away. Like Daddy, I wanted to see Bone dowse for Jane, but I didn't have any faith that he could do it, and I was sick and tired of Bone's obnoxious ways.
"I'll stay here with Callie," Andy said, making Big Boy happy by scratching behind his ears and making me very happy just because he wasn't leaving with the others.
"Tell me more about how you developed your act . . ." I began, but was immediately interrupted by the popping and snorting arrival of the Profits' beat-up Chevy truck pulling in between the two food stands and parking dangerously close to the table that had replaced the plywood Gastric Gullah stand.
"Hey, Callie," Rizzie called as she climbed down from the driver's seat.
When I was a little girl and said "Hey," my brothers always told me "Hay is for horses." A semantics professor at the university taught that "hey" for hello is a southern colloquialism while most northerners say "hi." In Southernese, that term refers to a state of moderate intoxication, by way of either alcohol or drugs. When I was young and said "Guess what?" my brothers answered "Chicken butt." I don't recall the professor ever mentioning that.
"I've brought my cookers," Rizzie said. "Maum wants me to cut the prices and sell as much as I can. Shouldn't refreeze fish." Andy helped Rizzie unload the truck.
"Maum wants to meet you, Callie, so ride back to the house with me, okay?"
"I can't," I answered. "I've got my dog with me."
"I'll dog-sit," Andy offered.
"Not necessary." Rizzie looked at him. "You and the dog can ride in the back, and Callie can sit up front with me."
"Isn't it against the law to ride in the open back of a pickup?" Andy asked.
"Not on this island, it's not," Rizzie told him.
My first reaction to this was horror and fright. My Big Boy had never ridden in the back of a truck. What if he tried to jump out? Ridiculous. I was letting my fear for Jane color all my thoughts and emotions. I rode in the open back of Daddy's pickups all the time growing up. Andy was an adult man, perfectly able to hold Big Boy's leash tight enough to keep the dog in the truck. Besides, if I suggested that Andy ride in the truck cab with Rizzie and I sit in the back with the dog, I'd probably insult Andy's masculinity.
It was just as well that Rizzie didn't say much during the ride because the truck made so much noise, I couldn't have heard her anyway. We left the campground, what Rizzie called the developed end of the island, and rode in the truck over the rutted roads we'd walked on earlier. She turned off onto a track I hadn't noticed before and parked in front of one of the better-looking houses I'd seen on the island. The front of the building was bricked while the sides were wooden. That's common in this area. Azaleas planted right below the porch were in full bloom, plastering the foundation in dark pink.
"Keep Big Boy in the truck," I called to Andy when I saw several hens and a rooster pecking around in the unfenced yard.
"Don't worry. He's already seen them," Andy replied and laughed.
I looked up, expecting to see the dog pulling at his leash to get himself a chicken. I'd intentionally never taken him anywhere near fowl of any kind. In rural areas, a chickeneating or egg-sucking dog is sometimes put down if he can't be broken of bad habits.
Instead, Big Boy had his tail between his legs and was backing away from the side of the truck bed. Rizzie picked up a plump hen and held it toward Andy. Big Boy whimpered, cringed, and tried to hide behind Andy's legs. My big puppy, who weighed more than I did, was scared of a chicken, yet he'd felt brave enough to challenge a horse.
"He's quivering," Andy said.
"Put him in the front of the truck," Rizzie offered.
Andy tried, then I tried, but we couldn't coax Big Boy out of the back of the Chevy. He just cried and backed away.
"I'll sit here with him," Andy said.
Rizzie led me into the house, where her gray-haired grandmother sat in an old mission rocking chair in front of blazing wood in the fireplace. She clutched a quilt up to her chin. I could tell that though tiny and wrinkled now, in her younger years, she'd been a beautiful smaller version of Rizzie.
"Maum, this is Callie. You asked to see her," Rizzie said.
"Hello, Mrs. Profit," I said.
"Hello. I wanted to tell you that I've been praying for your blind friend to return," the elderly lady said. Her voice was tinier and even more frail than her body seemed.
"Thank you," I said.
"I apologize for it being so hot in here with the fire going, but old bones are cold bones. They need lots of heat."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I wanted to talk to you about something else, too. At first, I thought I should wait until your worries about your friend are over, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see you today. As old and cold as my bones are, I don't want to wait too long."
"Yes, ma'am," I repeated. I had no idea where this was going.
"Rizzie," she said and motioned toward a chair, "bring that seat here for your friend."
I sat beside Rizzie's Maum and waited for what she wanted to tell me.
"Rizzie says that what you do is make people look nice after they die."
"Yes, ma'am." I fully expected Mrs. Profit to object to some aspect of the preparation methods, to forbid some procedure.
"What I want . . ." She paused. I waited.
"What I want," she repeated, "is for you to paint my fingernails when I die. I always wanted them red, but my husband didn't like red. I'd do it myself, but my eyes have grown so old that I don't see well enough."
"Maum, why didn't you ask me to do that for you?" Rizzie asked.
"You're working so hard to start your food business. I didn't want to bother you, but when you told me what Callie's job is, I knew she's not afraid of death and thought maybe she'd paint my nails red for me when I die."
"Mrs. Profit, I will be pleased to give you a manicure and polish your fingernails just as red as you like, but let's not wait until you're dead. I'll do it as soon as I can, so that you can enjoy them yourself."
"Bright red," she said.
"When the sheriff lets us leave the island, I'll put what I'll need into my purse, and when I come back to Surcie, I'll do your fingernails," I promised.
Mrs. Profit turned toward Rizzie. "I don't care what your grampa thought. I like red."
"What about your toenails?" I asked. "Want them red, too?"
"Sure do," the tiny voice said. Rizzie's grandmother smiled, and her face belied the years.
The lady was beautiful.
Chapter Seventeen
We were barely a half mile from Maum's house when
Andy beat on the window of the truck cab, and Big Boy set up a long howl. I turned and looked out the back windshield. Andy was pointing over toward the driver's side.
Beyond the pitted road, Bone walked slowly over the marsh with his head thrown back and both arms jutting straight out in front of him.
"Rizzie," I said, "there's Bone. Let's see what he's doing and ask him about John and Daddy."
Rizzie hit the brakes, and the Chevy lurched to a stop. Andy and Big Boy piled out the back while Rizzie and I climbed down from the cab.
"Hey, Bone," I yelled, and he headed toward us, maintaining his slow, steady speed with his arms directly in front of him. As he neared, I saw that he held a smooth, forked branch at a direct ninety-degree angle from his body. The dowsing tool did look like a giant turkey pulley bone with Bone holding both sides and a long tail jutting away from him.
"Whass up?" Bone called when he neared us. "Any news on Jane?"
"Not that we know of," Rizzie answered him.
Big Boy jumped up on Bone and sniffed the branch.
"Down, Boy, down," I said, and miracles never cease, the dog actually sat. Like some of my former five-year-old students, Big Boy doesn't always follow my instructions.
"Thought you were going to water-witch for Jane," Rizzie said. "This grass isn't high enough to conceal a fullgrown woman."
"I'm dowsing for anything related to Roxanne," Bone said.
"Roxanne? Who's Roxanne?" Andy asked.
"Oops, slip of the tongue," Bone mumbled. "I meant to say Jane."
Wanting to redirect the conversation, I said, "Where are Daddy and my brother? I thought they were with you."
"The sheriff 's lifting the roadblock," Bone said, still walking slowly around us. "Your brother said they were going to take their boat back to the mainland and get your car to pick you up when the bridge opens."
"Sheriff Harmon's letting people leave? Has he arrested someone?"
"Don't know about the arrest, but he's releasing folks."
I turned toward Rizzie. "Let's get back to the campground," I said. "I want to find out what's going on."
Just as we climbed into the truck, Bone called, "Look here."
He'd stopped and stood perfectly still with his arms parallel to the earth. The long "tail" of the branch pointed to the ground. When he stepped away, the branch rose back horizontal in front of him. He moved back, and the stick again seemed to reach for the dirt.
"There's something here," Bone shouted with excitement. "Andy, dig around where the branch is pointing."
Andy handed me Big Boy's leash and stooped in front of Bone. He sifted through the earth with his fingers until he found something. A hot pink cubic zirconium earring, an earring just like the ones Jane was wearing when she disappeared.
Buh-leeve me. This was confusing. If Jane lost her cane on the beach near the inlet, how did her earring get on the dirt road on the other side of the island? Was it even my friend's earring? Jane didn't own any expensive jewelry. Most of her pieces came from discount stores or flea market sales. It was entirely possible that this earring wasn't even hers. Entirely possible she still wore both of her pink baubles.
"What do you want to do now?" Rizzie asked. "Follow Bone or go back to the campground? I've gotta get to the concession area and decide what to do with those coolers full of shark. I really wish everyone had to stay here at least through tonight, so I could sell some food."
"I'll go with you," I said. "I want to know about the one more day of the festival. Maybe the sheriff is letting people onto the island but not off."
Andy climbed onto the truck bed with Big Boy. Rizzie and I got back in front. Bone ran to my window.
"Here," he said, handing me the earring. "Give it to the sheriff and tell him I'll mark the place I found it."
Everyone seemed to be packing up when we reached the campground. Bob's Barbecue was gone, and the Marie's Grill folks were closing.
