Word Has It (Wordplay Mysteries Book 1) Page 4

  Chief Brooks eyed the flier. “You think there will be that much of an interest?”

  “If I didn’t, sir, I wouldn’t have spent the morning learning about it and organizing this. I already know of six people who are interested. The fliers are being distributed as we speak. We would love it if you came to the meeting, lent your advice, and met the organizer, an Officer McIntyre from the FWPD.”

  That got his attention. Of course, he would have to come. Especially if another law enforcement officer attended. Particularly if that officer drove the hour and half from Fort Worth.

  Todd stuck his tongue in his cheek and gave his aunt a small wink.

  Chief Brooks rose. “Very well. I will be there tomorrow morning at 9:45.”

  Wanda took it as a dismissal. She got up, extended her hand, and wondered if she should have brought a peace pipe from the Oakmont County Museum. Except she didn’t smoke. She hoped the chief didn’t either. Though he did fit the image of a man who liked a big stogie.

  As she walked down the hall to the exit, Todd rushed ahead to hold the front door open for her.

  “Sunday, over Scrabble, you are going to explain to me what this is really all about.”

  She fluttered her eyelashes. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  His sigh hit her ears as she scooted past him.

  Chapter Six

  To Wanda’s delight, by 9:54 the next morning, the stragglers could barely scoot into Priscilla’s to find room to stand. Office McIntyre took a position near the counter after Sally, Priscilla’s sister and owner of Sally’s Salads, found a wooden produce box for him to stand upon. He wore a wireless mike, courtesy of Pastor Bob from Holy Hill Church where Wanda worshipped.

  Wanda, Evelyn, and Betty Sue spent the previous evening making blueberry bran muffins. Hazel brought two dozen freshly made doughnuts donated by the Grocery Mart to accompany Priscilla’s famous cinnamon rolls. The ladies passed the trays and boxes through the crowd as Sally and Priscilla poured coffee into disposable cups.

  At one minute past, Evelyn whistled with her fingers to her teeth. Half the room stopped chatting. Then Pastor Bob yelled out, “The Lord be with you.”

  Murmurs of “also with you” filtered through as everyone bowed their heads.

  His gentle but booming voice lifted the meeting into God’s hands, and then Wanda introduced the police officer. “We would like to thank Officer Douglas McIntyre for driving in from Fort Worth this morning.”

  Approving mumbles waved through the gathering. Chief Brooks inched his way to the front and shook the officer’s hand, giving a small speech of gratitude. Then Mayor Porter, not to be upstaged, reiterated the same sentiments, and told Office McIntyre about their wonderful, law-abiding town . . . for the next ten minutes.

  Finally, the policeman stepped up onto the box and began. “Many of you may have heard of a neighborhood watch. But I am here to tell you why it is beneficial and how to start one. It is a well-known fact that watches not only help reduce crime, but they promote community awareness, renew camaraderie between neighbors, and have a positive influence on the youth, who are less likely to experiment with drugs, underage drinking, and reckless behaviors.”

  Betty Sue, as a retired teacher began to clap, and several of the current high school teachers joined in, along with Fred Ballinger. Wanda noticed Beverly Newby, owner of Anna’s Antiques, nodding in agreement.

  “I am sure everyone here respects and appreciates the fine police force you have here. However, it is even more solidified when citizens and police cooperate in a neighborhood watch formation and maintenance.”

  Samuel Schiller, one of the local attorneys, raised his hand. “How do we do that?”

  “Good question.” The policeman smiled. “We would recommend you have at least three groups with three to four members in each. Mrs. Warner has a fact sheet and sign-up sheet on the back table by the door. Each member simply patrols their designated area on a rotation basis, especially at night. Each team has a captain who can be contacted if anyone in the neighborhood detects unusual activity. So, as you see, the whole town becomes involved. Even if you do not want to be a patroller, you can still participate. The captains hold regular meetings and communicate often with the police department. Captains can also organize food drives, holiday neighborhood parties, cleanup crews, etc.”

  “You are saying that these watches are designed to not only protect us but bring us closer together?” Beverly stood on tiptoes to be seen.

  The officer acknowledged her. “Exactly. The more you know your neighbors, the easier it will be to not only know if they need assistance of any kind but what is or is not unusual behavior.”

  Mr. Baker dashed his gaze to the ground as several eyes landed on him. Wanda felt her cheeks heat. How many times should she apologize to the poor man? Maybe she’d take him another casserole. And a few cans of cat food.

  Carl Smithers, who owned the gas station and used car lot, raised his hand. “Do we carry guns?”

  Chief Brooks face paled.

  “No.” Officer McIntyre shook his head firmly. “Neighborhood watch patrols are only to inform, not perform, that is instigate any actions that may seem heroic. I cannot emphasize that fact enough.”

  “Who screens the reports for pertinence? I mean, this town, like every small town I’m sure, has a few, well . . . busybodies.” Aurora’s eyes narrowed on Wanda.

  Wanda harrumphed. How dare she? Then she caught Pastor Bob’s fatherly glare and bit her lip. Betty Sue patted her arm and Evelyn gave her a sympathetic smile. Wanda calmed her breathing and instead of reacting, thanked God for good friends who loved and supported her.

  Sally spoke next. “Can women patrol, or should only men?”

  Officer McIntyre cleared his throat. “Women have been effective, but I’d suggest, at the risk of sounding chauvinistic, that the men would probably be the best defense after dark. I wouldn’t mind my wife driving around in a locked car, but I wouldn’t want her on foot no matter how safe our neighborhood seemed.”

  Rumbles of opinions floated through the crowd.

  “Do you have any children?” Barbara Mills always had a heart for kids, especially those just learning to read.

  The officer blushed. “Um, yes. Two. My son is eight and my daughter is six.” He scanned the café. “Anyone else?”

  Beverly raised her hand. “I run an antique store in town. Anna’s Antiques, named after my dear grandmother who collected Victorian pieces. I have never had any troubles but should I install an alarm?”

  He scratched his head. “It is always a wise plan. Talk to your insurance agent to see if it will help lower your premiums, too.”

  She giggled. “Well, that would be easy.” She twisted and pointed. “It’s my son-in-law, Jay King. Jay, why haven’t you told me about this?”

  He opened his mouth, then shut it again, with an expression of perplexity on his face as if she’d asked him if he was still beating his wife. There was no right answer.

  Chuckles rippled through the room.

  McIntyre came to the rescue. “Anyone else have questions . . . about neighborhood watches?”

  Murmurs and head shakes answered him back.

  After a few seconds, Wanda took the mike from his lapel and spoke into it before the Mayor could begin another speech. She thanked him for his visit. Hazel presented him with a small bouquet of roses, and Betty Sue gave him a box of breakfast breads to take home.

  Everyone applauded. When the noise subsided, Wanda announced that the organization of teams would take place Tuesday evening at seven o’clock in the Holy Hill Church fellowship hall. Big B Barbecue would provide dinner. Captains would be voted on at that time.

  The meeting ended a little after eleven. Evelyn, Betty Sue, and Wanda lingered to help Priscilla clean up.

  “I think that went really well.” Betty Sue grinned as she wiped muffin crumbs from the tables.

  Wanda’s chest swelled with pride. “Maybe people in this town will now und
erstand I only have everyone’s best interests at heart.”

  Evelyn scoffed. “Well, most will. I could not believe Aurora’s comment.”

  “Forgive and forget.” Betty Sue squeezed her arm. “That is what we are called to do, even if the other person won’t.”

  “Yes, but it is hard. I so wanted to stuff a doughnut in her pie hole.” Wanda sniffed.

  The ladies crowed. Until they noticed Pastor Bob had returned.

  “Oh, sorry Pastor Bob.” Wanda lowered her eyes to the broom in her hands.

  “Confession is good for the soul.” He gave her a warm smile. “I forgot to tell you. The day care council is also meeting Tuesday evening. They usually meet on the fourth Tuesday of the month but postponed it last week when we were under that tornado warning.”

  “Will that be a problem?” Wanda stopped sweeping.

  “I doubt it. They can meet in my office. Just wanted you to know.” He tipped his hand to his forehead. “Ladies. Thank you for organizing this.”

  He snatched a cup of coffee, left two dollars on the counter, and walked out whistling “Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones,” an old English hymn from the early 1900’s.

  Todd arrived at Wanda’s house at 10:40 Sunday morning. “Walk or ride?”

  “Ride. It’s already eighty degrees out there and the humidity is about the same. If we hoofed it, I’d look like a piece of lettuce left out overnight by the time we get there.”

  He chuckled and closed the door behind them. She handed him the keys to her Hyundai, not wishing to crawl into his sardine can of a sports car. He clicked the fob and then opened the passenger door for her.

  “I hear there was quite a turnout yesterday at Sally’s. The chief chatted about it off and on all afternoon. Made it mandatory for all police officials to be available on Tuesday evening at the church.”

  “All four of you?” Wanda winked.

  He ignored her. “So why the sudden interest in a neighborhood watch?”

  “To exonerate me in the community. And to give me some credence, I guess. I want people to know I have this town’s best interests in my heart. I’m not a busybody.”

  He turned the corner. “Despite what some lady who lives by the lake says?”

  “Oh, so you heard?”

  “Aunt Wanda. It’s my job to hear.”

  She shifted her attention to the passenger side window. “And not mine, right?”

  “I didn’t say that. The four of us cannot be everywhere, even in a community of 472 souls.”

  She gasped. “Ester Mae had her baby?”

  “In the wee hours this morning. A girl. Six pounds, eleven ounces. They are naming her Lucy.”

  “Aw. Well, we will have to organize meals.”

  He took his hand from the steering wheel long enough to squeeze her shoulder. “That’s my aunt.”

  They pulled into the parking lot, and he circled to find a spot closer to the main entrance. As he opened her car door and held a hand for her to exit, he whispered into her ear. “I know this has to do with what I told you might be happening in this area. Do not, I repeat, do not let anyone else know. I mean it, Aunt Wanda. It might cost me my badge.”

  She made a zipped motion across her mouth and walked ahead of him up the steps into the church. She prayed that neither Betty Sue nor Evelyn had told anyone. Or Sally . . . Hazel . . .

  Surely not.

  Holy Hill’s education sessions were ending and people piled into the hallway between the sanctuary and the fellowship hall. Some had been to the earlier service, others were grabbing a cup of coffee to swallow down before attending the eleven o’clock one.

  Ray O’Malley, the owner of the Hook & Owl Irish Pub cornered Todd. “What’s the word on the thieves, man? I don’t want my till hit.”

  “Yeah, have you spotted them? You were on duty the past two nights, right?” Carl Smithers edged into the group of men now surrounding Todd.

  Wanda dashed to the women’s restroom.

  Chapter Seven

  The fact that today’s sermon was on being neighborly without being nosy didn’t help matters. And when Pastor Bob alluded to the fact that he encouraged the neighborhood watch, especially in lieu of the recent robbery up the way in Burleson, whose burglars were still not apprehended, Wanda sank in her pew.

  Todd didn’t speak to her all the way home. Wanda blinked tears from her eyes. He twisted his head to her, a scowl still visible, as he edged into her driveway.

  “Todd, I am so sorry. I didn’t think . . .”

  “Obviously.” He got out, slammed the driver-side door, and rounded the back to let her out.

  She pleaded with her most sincere, I-love-you dear-boy face. “What can I do to make up for this?”

  He leaned against the post to her back porch stairs. His facial features suddenly aged ten years. Deep furrows spread across his brow. “It’s bound to have gotten back to the chief by now. Why I haven’t gotten a call, I don’t know. Maybe he is waiting until Monday to fire me.”

  She opened her kitchen door. “You’re overreacting. Come, sit down. I’ll pour you a tall glass of iced tea and fix you an egg salad sandwich.”

  “Not in the mood, Aunt Wanda. Sorry. I better go.”

  “What about our Scrabble game?” She pointed to the top of the refrigerator.

  “Maybe later. I’ll call you.”

  Wanda watched him leave, his head low and footsteps heavy. What had she done? Why did her good intentions always seem to backfire?

  She closed the kitchen door with a soft click and slumped into the kitchen chair for a good cry and an urgent prayer.

  Then she washed her face and texted Evelyn.

  Her neighbor tapped on the back door fifteen minutes later. “Whatcha need?”

  “A friend, advice, and maybe a spanking.”

  Evelyn lifted one of her penciled-in eyebrows. “Start at the beginning.”

  She did, and then began to sniffle once more.

  Evelyn wrapped her in a hug. “There is still time to do damage control. Tomorrow morning march down to that police station and tell Chief Brooks it is all your fault. You jumped to the conclusion that the burglars must be around here because of the vacant Ferguson House. Which, given time, you would have. Especially after what Aurora said.”

  She dabbed her eyes with a dish towel. “Okay. I’ll do that. Should I tell Todd?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  After Evelyn left, Wanda did two loads of laundry, pulled some weeds out of her begonia bed, and practiced what she’d say to the chief in the morning. She then decided to call Todd.

  He listened. “Thanks, Aunt Wanda. But I don’t want you to fib.”

  “I won’t be. Not really. As Evelyn said, I’d have come to that conclusion anyway. If they abandoned their van near Alvarado, it only makes sense they’d head down the railroad tracks to here. No way they’d go to Keene or Cleburne. Too many people.”

  “Okay. Say, why don’t I run by Better Burgers and bring you dinner tonight about seven. We can finish our game then.”

  Warmth spread from her heart down her arms. He’d forgiven her. “Make it six. That British murder mystery series is on PBS at seven. I know you don’t like cop shows.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you a little after six. I’d like the steak fingers with country gravy, fries, and Texas Toast. Wanna split some onion rings?”

  So much for her slightly bulging waistline.

  He arrived right on time. The Warner trait for punctuality, one her sister’s husband had never learned. Now she, and the rest of the family knew why he often showed up late. The snake. She thanked the heavens that Todd had turned out right.

  Wanda’s stomach growled at the wonderful aromas seeping through the takeout sacks as he emptied the contents onto her table. She filled two tumblers with sun-brewed iced tea then sat down in anticipation.

  Her eyes rolled in delight as she bit into a still-warm onion ring. The steak fingers were season
ed just right, the gravy creamy and thick with the right amount of peppercorns. Wanda had toyed with the idea of eating half tonight and refrigerating the rest for tomorrow’s lunch. But fries rarely held their crispness. And the food tasted way too good when hot and fresh.

  She’d walk a mile tomorrow. Maybe two. Early, before the temps rose above eighty. Maybe check out that beginners’ Zumba class, too.

  After they were both too stuffed to move, Wanda and Todd resumed their Scrabble game. They’d just played the words cave, bushes, auto, and shot when Todd’s cell phone rang. He excused himself from the table and took the call.

  Wanda could only hear his voice, not anything being said. After a minute or so he came back into the kitchen. His face held a seriousness that made her neck chill.

  “What’s wrong? Can you tell me?”

  “Why not? It’ll be all over town by sunrise.” He rubbed his forehead. “Carl Smithers decided to start his own patrol tonight.”

  Wanda sighed. Carl wanted to be the first at everything so he’d get the glory.

  Todd continued, “Unfortunately he brought his deer rifle. He saw a figure dashing into the woods behind the Ferguson place, jumped the fence and followed. Shot the guy at the clearing by the lake.”

  “Oh my. Is he . . .”

  “Yeah. At the scene. Carl’s being booked. I better go.”

  He left. Wanda eased into the kitchen chair unsure of what to do―if anything. Then she glanced at the board where Todd had just played the word “shot” off her word “auto.” Carl repaired and sold autos.

  Coincidence? Hardly.