The Baying Witness
Anna Drake
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2009 Anna Drake
This short story is a work of fiction. All characters and most locations within this short story are fictional.
* * *
Sheriff Delton Ross shifted in his chair. Through his office window, he watched late-August heat waves rise from the department parking lot. Half-heartedly, the sixty year old Ross listened to the improbable tale coming from the mouth of Ennis Archer.
She was a local woman, a sister to Dave Fairmont, the man who had recently run off and abandoned his wife of the last thirty years.
The whole town of Willow Grove had heard that story. Dave had left a letter for Lila upon his departure, and she'd cooperatively run around showing the entire town its contents. Case closed to his mind; had been for months: except for Ennis.
"I'm telling you Delt, my brother wouldn't take off like that. Not without getting in touch with one of us . . . the ones he really loved . . . somehow, sometime."
That was a fact, Ross thought. The Fairmonts had always been more of a clan than a family. They were a tough bunch to get inside of. Still, it was odd that the man hadn't been heard from. "
And then there's Edgar," Ennis said with a firm nod.
"Edgar? Edgar who?"
Ross couldn't believe Lila had taken up with another man. She hadn't seemed the type. Besides he couldn't think of a single man in Hartford County named Edgar. Where'd this guy come from?
"He's the neighbor's dog," Ennis added, as though she'd read his thoughts. "That poor thing sits and howls over that rose garden of Lila's day in and day out. Lila's even built a fence to try and keep the beast away from her land. But the dog just sits on the other side of that fence and howls anyway."
Ennis's hard, gray-green eyes gave the sheriff a look that said, "There, now. What do you think of that?"
Ross blinked before leaning forward in his chair. Ennis now had his full attention.
"What kind of dog is it?" Ross asked, taking care to keep his deep voice neutral. An avid sportsman, Ross knew his dogs. This could mean something, but he sure didn't want to get this woman any more riled up than she already was.
Oh, heavens," Ennis answered. "How on earth would I know?"
Ross bit back a sigh and slumped back in his seat. "Which neighbor of hers is it that has this dog?"
"Ed Bracken; house just behind Lila's."
Ennis studied the sheriff a moment, then said, "You gonna go out there? You gonna follow this up?"
"Yeah, Ennis. I'll go have a talk with Ed. See what's going on. But I'm not promising a thing. You saw that letter your brother left behind, right?"
“Yeah, but I didn't believe a word of it.”
* * *
“So has Lila filed a complaint against my Edgar?” Ed Bracken asked some twenty minutes later. With a worried frown, the old man swung the screen door open to admit the sheriff into his small, Beaumont City house.
"No. But I've heard your dog is giving Lila fits," Ross said, following his comment up with a chuckle.
"That he is. I don't know what's got into that dog."
Just then, as if on cue, Edgar made his appearance. The white, tan, and black dog sniffed the sheriff's pant legs, then stepped back and emitted a single woof.
"Good lookin' hound," Ross told Bracken.
"Yup, not bad. Got him from a breeder over in Hendrickson County. Good price, too. It was of a bit of a drive, but it was worth it."
Bracken led the sheriff into the tiny living room and waved a hand at the sagging couch. Ross sat, holding his hat between his knees. The sheriff was located directly in the path of a current of air being pushed his way by an old fan, but the breeze didn't help much. The room was still hot and muggy.
What's goin' on then?” Bracken asked. He eased himself into a small armchair; the dog settled himself beside his master. "Is Lila all that riled up that she called you?"
"Nope. I haven't heard one word from her."
"Then how'd you come into it?"
"If you don't mind I'd just as soon not say. But I would like to know when all of this started.”
The old man closed his eyes and thought a bit. “Best I can remember it was when Lila put in that rose bed of hers. Before that, she and Edgar were thick as thieves. Had me a little concerned, that did. Bassets are loyal dogs. I didn't want his loyalties confused, you know?"
Ross nodded. It reminded him of his ongoing tug of war with his wife over their Brittany spaniel. Damned dog absolutely adored Tabitha for feeding him so well. Talk about dividing the dog's loyalties.
"So Edgar's still at it, then? The howling?"
“Yeah, he would be if I let him. I walk him on a leash now, and keep him a good distance away from Lila's. Still, if I'm careless, and he gets the chance, he's right back at it.”
* * *
A few minutes later, Ross was out the door of Bracken's house and headed down the sidewalk. The way the sheriff saw it, he had two moves. He could go to the State's Attorney, hat in hand, with this tale of a howling basset and push for a search warrant to dig up the rose bed. Or he could go talk to the woman. He'd had a lot of luck over the years with his little chats. He kinda liked the latter option.
Best as he could recall, Lila had always been a quiet person: meek and mouse-like, a go-along-to-get-along type of woman. She seemed an unlikely candidate for a killer. But the more he thought about what he'd heard, the less he liked it. And after talking with Bracken, Lila now seemed to have jumped from one side of his balance sheet to the other. Things just didn't sound right.
Ross pulled a deep breath. Only three more years before retirement, he reminded himself as he trod through the sodden air. Then, he'd take to the woods and fields and local ponds and leave the crazies for somebody else to deal with.
Removing his hat from his head, Ross mounted the three wooden stairs to Lila Fairmont's porch. Two more strides and he was at her door. He reached out and gave the door five, firm raps. It wasn't long before the inside door swung open, and Lila Fairmont stood before him, looking bedraggled and a wee bit guilty.
"Yes?" she asked tentatively, her free hand fluttering about her throat. She was a tiny woman. Not much meat on her bones.
“I'd like to come in a minute, if you don't mind." Ross took a step forward toward the doorway.
Lila nodded and unlatched the screen door before turning and making her way into the living room.
Ross stepped slipped through the door and followed her. "That sister-in-law of yours came by my office today. She said nobody's heard hide nor hair of Dave since he took off. She thinks that's odd. I think so, too. Any chance I could see that letter of his again?"
"Of course."
"I'll wait out in the kitchen, Lila. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not."
Like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought.
The woman headed toward a hallway which led to the east side of the house. The sheriff made his way through the living and dining rooms to the kitchen. He walked to the back window along the far wall and studied the backyard stretched out before him.
At the sound of Lila's footsteps, he turned, saying, "That's some rose garden you've got there. Tabitha, my wife, has been after me for years to put in one of those. I'd like to take a better look at it. How about we go outside. That okay with you?"
Lila looked down at the letter in her hands, then glanced back up at the sheriff.
"It's okay. You can bring the letter with you," Ross said, not unkindly.
The woman's shoulders sagged, but she followed the sheriff outside.
Once on the back porch, Ross pulled his hat from under his arm, and lifted his right arm high into the air.. His move was the agreed signal for Ed Bracken to turn Edgar loose.
Together, Ross and Lila crossed the lawn to the flower bed. but Edgar reached it long before they could. The plaintive howl of the basset hound broke the quiet of a hot, oppressive, August afternoon.
"I wonder what's setting that dog off like that?" Ross asked.
"It was my husband's arrogance," Lila said, her gaze fastened on the ground. "He was going to leave me. But before he left, he expected me to fix his dinner. So I did."
"You poisoned him, then?"
She nodded.
"I'm gonna have to take you in, Lila."
"I know." She stretched forth her slender wrists. "I'd always wanted children," she said pulling her gaze up to the sheriff's, "but we couldn't have any. He wouldn't adopt. Said they wouldn't be true Fairmonts."
"Better you don't tell me anything more, Lila," Ross said, before launching into a recitation of the Miranda warning. Afterward, he placed the cuffs about her wrists, more to meet her expectations than from any concern on his part. He doubted he had much to fear from this woman.
Sometimes the meek just got tired of sitting around, waiting to inherit the Earth--especially if somebody pulls the rug out from under them. And suddenly, an otherwise mild-mannered person cracks.
He reminded himself that he was just the hunter. He rounded the people up who broke the law and left it to others to deliver the justice. Lila's future, whatever it was, was now in the hands of a jury or of a judge--a fact for which he was grateful.
He thought of his impending retirement again. It was looking better and better.