I’m Fixin’ To Play Dead (Part 52)
I knew right off the bat that whoever was ringing Sissy’s front doorbell probably wasn’t going to be the bearer of good news, coming up from the street on the white strip of concrete that no one ever used. The look on the faces of Louise and Sissy weren’t very reassuring either. They both went stiff and turned toward the chiming sound.
“You expecting anyone?” I asked Sissy.
“Un uh,” she said as she shook her head, “no body.”
Suddenly I had an image of Red, dripping wet and dead, standing outside the front door. That’s also when I remembered I had lost my pistol. It had gone down in the lake inside the Dodge.
I looked at Louise desperately and said, “I lost my pistol. You don’t happen to have one handy, do you?”
“Yeah, but it ain’t handy,” she replied. “It’s back in my bedroom stuck between the mattresses.”
I was halfway out of my chair when Louise continued, “Y’all are too jumpy. It’s probably just someone trying to sell something. Just relax. I’ll get rid of them and be right back.”
Reluctantly, I watched while she walked out of the dining room with her sandals making flapping sounds on the tile floor. They went silent when she reached the carpet in the living room. A moment later I heard the metallic sound as she unlocked the front door, then her voice when she said, “Can I help you, sir?”
Sissy and I leaned our heads toward the sounds coming from the front door and heard the following exchange:
“My name is Howard Wilson, with the Alabama Bureau of
Investigation. Are you Louise Bedwell?”
“Uh, yes sir, that would be me.”
“Please step outside. I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Leon Martin.”
Sissy and I looked at each other, mouths agape. We both stood up at the same time, but she placed a finger on my lips and whispered, “Sssss, don’t say a word. You stay here. I’ll deal with this.”
I whispered back, “But I can’t let them take her when I know—-”
She pressed harder on my lips and softly said, “It’s better to wait until we can sort things out. I’ll follow them and make sure she’s all right. This is no time for you to be talking to the cops. Please, promise me you won’t leave the house until I get back!”
As I listened to the official vehicle out front leave, I imagined poor Louise locked in the back seat, handcuffed and frightened. A few moments later I heard the garage door open and the purr of the Lexus’ engine as Sissy pulled away in it, and then I was alone again.
Not knowing what else to do I went to my bedroom and began straightening things up. That’s when I looked at the suitcase and began to feel guilty. I placed it on the bed and opened the lid.
Gazing down at the rows of bills I wondered if it was worth possessing. Two men were dead and an innocent woman was in jail because of that stack of money and my crazy plan of playing dead.
I closed the suitcase and retreated into the living room to wait for Sissy. During the wait my resolve faltered again. It seemed that one incident after another caused that to happen, but I was getting accustomed to it now so I persevered and hung on until the feeling passed, knowing that I could and would be here when Sissy returned.
Two hours later she came home. I was outside the open garage door pacing in the driveway. I followed the car inside and opened the door for her. She looked up, extended her hand and said, “You’re here! I was afraid you would run away.”
“No, I couldn’t do that. I have to figure out a way to clear Louise.”
As soon as we got inside Sissy said, “It’s my fault she got arrested.”
“How in the world could it be your fault?” I asked.
“Because I had to give my name and address when I bailed her out after she was arrested for car theft, so they knew exactly where to find her. I should have had someone else bail her out. Let’s make some coffee. We’re fixing to go to work and do some planning.”