Inspiration 45

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Jeremiah 17:9 The heart is deceitful above all things: who can know it?

No story can be complete without an antagonist, but just who is the real bad person: Bob, Charity, Paul, Agatha?

BOB

The weekend passed. Monday brought page design. April finished her cotillion stories. She had a short section on baby showers and another on the literary club. The last story of the day was the birthday celebration of Miss Hadley Montgomery, age one hundred.

Monday night, April drove to the city council meeting. Four men and one woman sat at a long boardroom table. She listened intently, but most items were mundane and boring. Then, Bob Stockton brought up approving a dump site near The Dunes.

Drew Patterson and Stockton locked horns. Patterson was the deciding vote. The man sitting beside Stockton supported him. The other man and the woman voted negatively. Listening to the two men, April thought it good they sat at opposite ends of the table.

"I will not do it," Patterson declared.

"Quit holding up progress, Drew!" Stockton yelled.

"It's not progress. It's slow murder."

"You got no proof of that."

"Bob, the stuff leaks into the soil. Have you gone down river? Even the magnolias are wilted. Somebody's already dumping. Do you know who?"

"Don't be absurd!"

"Too many people are getting sick, hurt, or dead. Damn it! You're just looking at your bank account! You won't get my vote. Are you going to kill me, too?"

April made her way forward. She looked up, up, up at a man about sixty with salt and pepper hair who was thin and well over a foot taller than she was. "Mr. Stockton," she greeted.

"Yes?"

"April Chastain with The Bugle. I'd like to hear your side."

"You Dorian McDougal's kid?"

"Yes."

"Get a clue."

"Excuse me?"

"I have nothing to say to The Bugle. Your boss is a pain in the ass. Good night."

April and Drew Patterson met at a Shoney's on the outskirts of town where they ordered dessert and coffee.

"This seems clandestine," commented April.

"It is. Miss Chastain, didn't you pick up on the threat from Bob?"

"No."

"That old goat knows what happened to your parents."

"Surely not. He and my father were friends."

"Enemies."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Dorian stuck to his guns, like me. He was murdered."

"Are you afraid?"

"Sometimes, but I'm right."

Russell was almost killed because he took a stand. Dorian was killed because he was about to bring an indictment against Stockton's company. He had proof, but it's disappeared. Get your boss to see what really happened to Carlisle. I don't think it was a stroke, but he's out of commission. I can't believe Russell dropped it."

April jabbed her fork into her cake. Drew's eyebrows shot up at her vehemence as she hissed, "He didn't! Damn him! That's why he sent me. He wants me to investigate."

Crashing plates in the kitchen made both of them jump. April giggled at her reaction. Drew whispered, "You be careful."

"Do you honestly think my folks were killed because of this?"

"I do. And I think Bob knows. He's mean and underhanded. Even if he didn't do it himself, I think he knows who did."

"Russell says you have connections." She produced the samples from the large straw bag she carried. "Can you get these analyzed?"

"How did you get those? And where?"

"Out by the wilted magnolias."

"On private property and without a warrant?"

"Oops. I'm not a cop. Zach Logan and I took a motorcycle ride. The land isn't posted."

"Good move because I'm on the city council and couldn't get samples. And I haven't been able to get the council to order an environmental study."

"Who owns the land?"

"Paul Winchester, actually Charity, his wife. She is a bitch."

"Paul's not concerned?"

"No. He says it's coincidence. Besides, Charity wants to build a subdivision out there. If the land is contaminated, that won't happen."

"Paul? He's such a nice man."

Drew chuckled lightly, closed his eyes, and wagged his head. "Oh, naïve one."

"How so?" asked April, her jaw clenching.

"Bob Stockton is his brother-in-law."

"Oh. Still, I can't believe he would be dirty. He's been a big help to me since I retruned."

"Watch yourself. Paul might be an okay guy, but Charity would stab you in the back in a heartbeat."

Through the window, April watched as Lanelle Haymer first knelt by a bronze statue of Madonna and Child. She stayed on her knees, hand clasped firmly in front of her, head bowed. Time seemed to stand still. After a good quarter hour, Lanny gathered a bouquet from her flower garden. She came back in holding a full-bloomed magnolia blossom surrounded by various summer flowers. "Bob Stockton behind it?" she demanded, looking at the late summer bloom after most magnolias had stopped blooming.

"Why?" asked April.

"He came to see Mr. Dorian the Monday before. I heard hollerin', but I couldn't make out the words. Peete's Law Firm was gonna represent him. Young Mr. Trammel came not ten minutes later. Your momma got me to take you to the park. Four mornings later, I found 'em dead. Stockton's case got dropped, and a year later, Mr. Trammel went to jail for ten years. The new prosecutor didn't seem to want to hear what I had to say. Too much has happened. Too many folks I care about have been hurt. If it'll stop the pain, do it."

." She turned to Davis who had calmed considerably from the time he had entered her home. "Sergeant, they're the ones who killed my parents and tried to kill me."

"I need your statement," the man replied as if still dazed from the revelation. "Any idea who killed them?"

"Yes, but I don't have proof."

"Who?" Davis insisted. "No secrets, remember?"

"Either Charity Winchester, Bob Stockton or both."

"Strong accusations."

"I said I didn't have proof."

Bob Stockton and Charity Winchester stomped into the front office of The Bugle and demanded to see Russell.

Trina looked at the two with absolute contempt. Her nose wrinkled as if she smelled a foul odor. She asked, "Did you forget how to use the phone?"

"Get that asshole out here!" demanded Stockton.

Trina buzzed Russell. "Hey, asshole, you have company."

"Anybody I want to see?"

"Nope."

"Oh, hell! Send 'em back."

With her hand and a dirty look, Trina said, "You know the way."

Charity stopped at April's desk and let her large handbag slide to the floor. "You're worse than your father," she sniped.

"Thank you," said April with a gloating smile.

"History often repeats itself."

"I heard that," snapped André. He stood and glowered icily at Charity. "Was that a threat?"

Charity gave André a look of utter scorn. She looked him up and down and lifted one side of her upper lip in a quasi snarl. She asked, "Do you plan to stay near little miss 'Munchkin' all day?"

"If I need to."

"Good." She gave André a crooked smile.

"Charity!" Bob barked through a jaw so tight his lips barely moved.

With a small shuffle of her feet toward April's desk, Charity turned to go to her brother. Bob clutched his sister's elbow and whispered to her when she got to him. She said something back. His grip on her arm tightened. She jerked free.

André whispered to April, "I wish I could hear that conversation. Bob looks pissed."

"Maybe he'll strangle her," April whispered back. Both of them sniggered.

CHARITY

"Who owns the land?"

"Paul Winchester, actually Charity, his wife. She is a bitch."

"Paul's not concerned?"

"No. He says it's coincidence. Besides, Charity wants to build a subdivision out there. If the land is contaminated, that won't happen."

"Paul? He's such a nice man."

Drew chuckled lightly, closed his eyes, and wagged his head. "Oh, naïve one."

"How so?" asked April, her jaw clenching.

"Bob Stockton is his brother-in-law."

"Oh. Still, I can't believe he would be dirty. He's been a big help to me since I retruned."

"Watch yourself. Paul might be an okay guy, but Charity would stab you in the back in a heartbeat."

Russell snorted, "Damn it!"

"Something amiss?" asked the woman.

"You've been very helpful," assured Russell. "Thank you."

He dragged April away. "Adopted orphans! Son-of-a-bitch!"

"Russell?"

"I graduated with 'em. I even made pictures with Ferdinand for Lanny. Supposedly, Paul and Charity Winchester adopted two older orphans. I wonder if Mrs. Winchester knows about Agatha."

"They were kids. Were they actually married?"

"Next stop." He paused. "Marriage licenses."

They barely made the chancery building before they closed, and found nothing in Lowndes County. After a great deal of searching through the internet on April's laptop while they ate at a local mom and pop diner that offered Wi-Fi for the convenience of the students in a college town, they found a marriage certificate in Butler, Alabama. However, as intensely as they investigated, they never found a divorce decree.

"I'll be damned!" exclaimed Russell as they walked to the car when the diner closed. "Paul and Charity are not legally married. Tim, Dan, and Jake are illegitimate. Paul Winchester is a bigamist."

"Paul Winchester uses lots of carbide tools coated in cadmium," April thought aloud.

Russell shook his head. "I can't believe Paul is a killer." He chuckled sarcastically. "Apparently, he's a lover."

"Russell!"

"Oh, come on, April! The Winchesters with their money and their DAR lineage would never have accepted Agatha, the granddaughter of a sharecropper. To them she's white trash, for lack of a better word. That's not my opinion, but the Stocktons have leverage on her and Paul. Now, Charity Stockton, Bob's sister and Paul's whatever-she-is, oh, yeah. I could see her as a killer. If she had a clue she wasn't legally married, she'd start with Paul."

April started to cry. "Maybe I should never have come home."

"Yes, you should have!" Russell took her by both shoulders. "April, you're the key to solving the whole thing. That's why I'm worried about you. You're in danger. Somewhere in your house is the proof we need. I know it will incriminate Stockton. I thought, perhaps, Paul. No, it's Charity pulling the strings."

The phone rang off the hook Thursday. Most of the calls demanded legal action against Stockton Tools. However, when Charity Winchester called, her screeches could be heard throughout the building. André put her on speaker. He wanted others to witness her tirade.

"Put that bratty little girl on you dimwitted, nigger bastard!"

"Whoa!" said André. "Good day, Mrs. Winchester."

"Don't you hang up on me, André Cheeks. How dare you let that little faggot print that?"

With complete aplomb, André said, "Mrs. Winchester, you're welcome to write a letter to the editor voicing your opinion; however, you will not be allowed name calling. Good day." André hung up.

The phone rang immediately. André hit the speaker thinking it was Charity again.

The scream that came from the throat of Charity Winchester when she unfolded her copy of The Bugle made Lanelle Haymer drop the vase she had moved to dust.

"Lanny!" Charity shrieked. "Did André do this?" She stomped into the den and thrust the newspaper at her housekeeper.

Lanny looked at the headline. "André ain't in charge no more. Russell's back. Them accusations true? You that big a bitch?"

"How dare you?" Charity growled through clenched teeth.

Lanny looked at the shattered glass at her feet. She put her hands on her ample hips. "I dare because my husband was one o' them wilted magnolias." She took a step closer to her employer. They were the same height, but Lanny had fifty pounds on Charity. "I dare because April Chastain was like one o' my babies." With each name, Lanny's voice grew louder and angrier. "I dare because Chase Pickens and Drew Patterson are among the best men I ever knew." She tossed the feather duster onto the marble-topped table. "I dare because Russell Dalton is top notch." Charity took a step back as Lanny's face came within an inch of hers. "I dare because Dorian and Michelle McDougal and Carlisle Dalton were my friends." Lanny leaned into Charity's face and then popped up straight and tall. "I dare because Paul Winchester deserves better'n the likes o' you." She raked some of the glass aside with her foot. "You bossy bitch, I quit."

PAUL

The secretary came out, minus the coffee. "He'll see you. I'm surprised because he usually requires an appointment."

April went in. "April," Drew greeted. "Personal or business?"

"Russell says you have connections." She produced the samples from the large straw bag she carried. "Can you get these analyzed?"

"How did you get those? And where?"

"Out by the wilted magnolias."

"On private property and without a warrant?"

"Oops. I'm not a cop. Zach Logan and I took a motorcycle ride. The land isn't posted."

"Good move because I'm on the city council and couldn't get samples. And I haven't been able to get the council to order an environmental study."

"Who owns the land?"

"Paul Winchester, actually Charity, his wife. She is a bitch."

"Paul's not concerned?"

"No. He says it's coincidence. Besides, Charity wants to build a subdivision out there. If the land is contaminated, that won't happen."

"Paul? He's such a nice man."

Drew chuckled lightly, closed his eyes, and wagged his head. "Oh, naïve one."

"How so?" asked April, her jaw clenching.

"Bob Stockton is his brother-in-law."

"Oh. Still, I can't believe he would be dirty. He's been a big help to me since I retruned."

"Watch yourself. Paul might be an okay guy, but Charity would stab you in the back in a heartbeat."

 A tall and thin woman bearing a striking resemblance to Bob, put her hand over the top of the glass and shook her head at the bartender, causing Paul to scowl and Stockton to roll his eyes and turn his back to the two. Winchester snatched the glass from beneath the woman's hand and held it out to the bartender. The woman's eyes became slits of anger, and she mouthed something. April wished she could hear the conversation, but settled for a picture. Stockton leaned his head onto his hand and stared at the crystal chandelier above him. The woman stomped off. Paul Winchester downed his scotch and asked for another. April made sure she got a picture of all three of them together. 

"Paul Winchester," Russell said, putting his back against his chair and crossing his legs with his left ankle resting on his right thigh.

"What? She 'did' Paul Winchester?"

Russell sniggered at April's jibe before he expounded. "They seem"—Russell paused as if trying to find the right word—"Friendly," he said as if to imply much more. "He used to come in here to place his ads. Not now that she's gone. He just sends the slicks. I've never seen Agatha as a killer. A blabbermouth, but not a killer. I thought she talked too much to Paul, and I was wary of her repeating something she shouldn't to Stockton's brother-in-law."

April tittered, "So? You think maybe she really did 'do' Paul?"

I'll be damned!" exclaimed Russell as they walked to the car when the diner closed. "Paul and Charity are not legally married. Tim, Dan, and Jake are illegitimate. Paul Winchester is a bigamist."

"Paul Winchester uses lots of carbide tools coated in cadmium," April thought aloud.

Russell shook his head. "I can't believe Paul is a killer." He chuckled sarcastically. "Apparently, he's a lover."

"Oh, come on, April! The Winchesters with their money and their DAR lineage would never have accepted Agatha, the granddaughter of a sharecropper. To them she's white trash, for lack of a better word. That's not my opinion, but the Stocktons have leverage on her and Paul. Now, Charity Stockton, Bob's sister and Paul's whatever-she-is, oh, yeah. I could see her as a killer. If she had a clue she wasn't legally married, she'd start with Paul."

"Where are the twins?" asked April.

"They left town about the same time I did. Charity has to know about the twins, but not the marriage. She didn't adopt them so Paul could have his kids but as a way to manipulate him."

April rolled her lips together. "Russell, would she threaten the twins to make Agatha do her bidding? Drew called her a bitch."

"Oh, yeah. She's a bitch with a capital B."

"Then, it seems to me we have to find those documents. Perhaps, it's time to confront Agatha and, I think, Paul. Reggie, I'm sorry. I see why Russell trusts you."

Reggie asked, "Do you think Agatha Jefcoat poisoned Carlisle and Drew?"

"Yes," said April. "Perhaps she was coerced into doing it to keep her children safe, but I think she did it."

"And you think Paul Winchester knows?"

April shrugged. "That, I'm not sure about. However, I'm certain of your loyalties now. I apologize again."

"No need," assured Reggie.

AGATHA

Before she went to the paper the next day, April went to Drew Patterson's law office. A woman old enough to be Drew's mother greeted her at the reception desk.

"May I help you, Miss?"

"April Chastain to see Mr. Patterson."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but tell him I'm here."

The older woman frowned, disappeared to another area, and returned with a cup of coffee before she knocked on Drew's office door and went inside. April took in the outer office décor. It was functional without signs of wealth. She noticed through the windows beside the front oak door that the office space next door was for rent. Drew had no other business beside him, and he did not have a partner.

The secretary came out, minus the coffee. "He'll see you. I'm surprised because he usually requires an appointment."

April went in. "April," Drew greeted. "Personal or business?"

"Russell says you have connections." She produced the samples from the large straw bag she carried. "Can you get these analyzed?"

"How did you get those? And where?"

"Out by the wilted magnolias."

"On private property and without a warrant?"

"Oops. I'm not a cop. Zach Logan and I took a motorcycle ride. The land isn't posted."

"Good move because I'm on the city council and couldn't get samples. And I haven't been able to get the council to order an environmental study."

"Who owns the land?"

"Paul Winchester, actually Charity, his wife. She is a bitch."

"Paul's not concerned?"

"No. He says it's coincidence. Besides, Charity wants to build a subdivision out there. If the land is contaminated, that won't happen."

"Paul? He's such a nice man."

Drew chuckled lightly, closed his eyes, and wagged his head. "Oh, naïve one."

"How so?" asked April, her jaw clenching.

"Bob Stockton is his brother-in-law."

"Oh. Still, I can't believe he would be dirty. He's been a big help to me since I retruned."

"Watch yourself. Paul might be an okay guy, but Charity would stab you in the back in a heartbeat."

"I hear you."

"I'll get these to a friend at Ole Miss in the science department." He patted a bag. "I'll get back to you. You trust Zach Logan?"

"Yes. Please, don't tell me his dad is dirty. Zach's a good kid."

"No, Logan's on the up-and-up. But be careful. As you know, whoever went after your father has no compunction about killing kids, even a star athlete like Zach."

"I will. You too."

"I have nothing to lose, April."

"How did you know anything about Zach?"

Confirming that Zach had told the truth, he answered, "We're friends on Facebook." Drew sipped the coffee his secretary had brought him.

"I'd like to keep you as a friend as long as possible."

"Thanks, I think."

She looked over her shoulder. "Who's the mother hen outside?"

"Agatha Jefcoat."

"How long has she been with you?"

"Three years. She worked for Carlisle at the paper."

"And Russell cleaned house. He let her go?"

"Yes. What are you thinking?"

April knitted her eyebrows into a deep frown. "I don't like her. Bring your coffee from home from now on."

Drew cocked his eyebrow. April shrugged. "You said to check out what really happened to Carlisle, and, now, you're sick. She's the common denominator."

"I hear you," Drew echoed April.

She stood. "Does Winchester use carbide tools?"

"Yep. Stockton's company keeps 'em sharp."

"Coated with cadmium?"

They exchanged looks. "I'll take the samples today," Drew assured.

On Monday morning, April visited Drew with a breakfast basket. His secretary glowered at her and said, "He won't be eating much this morning. He didn't even want coffee. He says he's giving it up for his kidneys. He had chemo yesterday, the first in this new treatment. He's never much good the day after, but this is the worst I've ever seen him."

"Announce me please."

The woman buzzed Drew who instructed April to come in. Upon entering his office, she saw a man who was half the one she had shared dessert with.

"Sit down," Drew requested.

"Why not stay home on the morning after?"

"Agatha told you?"

"Yeah. I brought breakfast," she said, placing the basket on the desk.

"Any coffee?"

"You're not giving it up?"

"No. I have to have one vice, but I'm drinking it at home now, per your suggestion."

April poured coffee from a thermos and handed Drew two Little Sizzlers sausages rolled in crescent rolls. "Eat," she ordered with a point to the food.

Drew exhaled long and hard. "I'll just throw it up. This is the worst treatment ever."

"No, you won't." April wrinkled her nose. "Do I smell…?"

"Yes! It helps," he answered without letting her finish her question.

"I told you I hired her after Russell let her go."

"Tell me about her."

"Fifty-two, competent, never married, no family. She keeps to herself."

"You take creamer?"

"Yeah. I prefer milk. I'm a big baby." He swiveled in the chair. "Where are you going with this?"

"Has Agatha made your coffee since she got here?"

"Yes, of course. She got me hooked on hazelnut and amaretto creamer, though at times I like, toffee, mocha, Irish cream, or French vanilla. She says flavored creamer is one of life's little pleasures."

April drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. "What kind of creamer?"

"Liquid. She keeps some in the fridge in the break room."

"Get some. Now. Tell her it's for me."

"Why?"

"I want to analyze it."

"Do you truly think Agatha has been poisoning me?" Drew asked, his voice rising above the weak growl he had been using.

On her way out, April stopped by the front desk. "Have a great day, Miss Jefcoat."

"He's been hurt enough," mumbled Agatha.

"Excuse me?" April arched an eyebrow.

"Don't play him. He's dying, and I wish I could stop it." The older woman stifled a sob.

"Can you?" The two women locked eyes.

"Did Mr. Carlisle really have a stroke?"

"Yes."

"Was there anything unusual?" April pulled a pen from behind her ear and tapped it on the desk.

"What do you suspect?"

"Were there high levels of lead or cadmium in his system?"

"Yes, but he refused to let us investigate. He said it must've been from the chemicals used in printing all those years."

"Could it have been?"

"Possible, but unlikely," Russell said.

"Why did you fire Agatha Jefcoat?"

Russell sat back and straightened up. "I don't trust the old bat, and I discouraged Drew from hiring her. He's stubborn."

"And now…he's sick." April dragged out the words.

"You think she did it to both Dad and him?" Russell furrowed his brow.

"Yes, I do," replied April

"Why?"

"What's her relationship to Stockton?"

"She despises him."

"Really?" asked April with great skepticism. She twisted her lips to the left and drooped her left eyelid.

"With a passion," Russell assured emphatically. "I could see her poisoning him."

"Maybe he has something he's holding over her."

"She grew up here, but went off to the W and stayed away for a long time. When she came back, Dad hired her." Russell leaned forward. "I fired her because I don't trust her."

April leaned forward. "Intuition?"

Russell shrugged.

"But you trust Reggie?" she asked.

"With my life."

"Powerful statement."

"Get to know him."

"Give me more on why you don't trust Agatha. What did she do?" April leaned back and crossed her legs, left over right.

"Paul Winchester," Russell said, putting his back against his chair and crossing his legs with his left ankle resting on his right thigh.

"What? She 'did' Paul Winchester?"

Russell sniggered at April's jibe before he expounded. "They seem"—Russell paused as if trying to find the right word—"Friendly," he said as if to imply much more. "He used to come in here to place his ads. Not now that she's gone. He just sends the slicks. I've never seen Agatha as a killer. A blabbermouth, but not a killer. I thought she talked too much to Paul, and I was wary of her repeating something she shouldn't to Stockton's brother-in-law."

April tittered, "So? You think maybe she really did 'do' Paul?"

Russell half nodded.

She glanced at her watch. "When I get my pages done, want to run to Columbus?"

"Check out Agatha?"

"Yep. You want to go, or should I take Zach?"

"You definitely should not take Zach. Get busy. If you get it done today, we'll go tomorrow."

She rose and saluted him as she started out the door. "Yes, Boss."

April went to her desk and worked at a furious pace to have her pages ready. She was still working at eight when Russell came out to go home.

Reggie asked, "Do you think Agatha Jefcoat poisoned Carlisle and Drew?"

"Yes," said April. "Perhaps she was coerced into doing it to keep her children safe, but I think she did it."

"And you think Paul Winchester knows?"

April shrugged. "That, I'm not sure about. However, I'm certain of your loyalties now. I apologize again."

"No need," assured Reggie.

Russell who had been sitting with his feet on his desk sat upright and leaned forward. "Let's hold off a little on confrontation, at least until we have all the test results."

"Yes, Boss," April and Reggie said simultaneously. Both laughed, nervously. Their newfound understanding had yet to be tested.

"I've had high cadmium levels, but I've never lived down river. April has decided my secretary was poisoning me. My levels stagnated a few months back. The creamer we tested was clean." He informed the group as he scanned his file. "If Agatha was poisoning me, she stopped. Maybe her conscience overwhelmed her. These new treatments are meant to boost my immune system and the drugs are designed to draw the heavy metals like a magnet, flush then out of my system. I'm being a guinea pig in a clinical study, but if it works, I have a shot at a long and normal life."

Cover by Christopher Chambers.

Let's take a vote. Who do you think the big baddie is? Here's how I picture them, at least as close as I could find. Bob, Charity, Paul, Agatha