Murder on Edisto by C. Hope Clark

Author:C. Hope Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.
Published: 2021-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

CALLIE MOVED DOWN two more of Papa’s steps. Pauley climbed two, his grin widening. The son held none of the humor or manners of the father, but something about his wide face and rounded features reminded Callie of the senior Beechum. She’d always felt sorry for Papa living alone, his son never visiting. Maybe that’s why Papa had shared so much of his love with her.

She cursed herself about the keys. “Let me pass, Pauley.”

“Nope, I’m holding you at bay,” he said.

At bay? “Let me by, I said.”

“Don’t even try it. Hold it right there, or I’ll have to pin you down until the authorities arrive.”

Callie sized him up. Pauley wasn’t a young man, maybe early-fifties. Scrawny. She held onto the railing and came down another riser in the fifteen or so that led to his landing, the wood smooth and sanded from Papa’s attentive carpentry. Glancing down, she counted five steps between her and Pauley.

Then she took them fast.

He grabbed her arm as she tried to pass. She welcomed it.

Controlling his fall as he stumbled backwards down the steps in her grasp, she reached bottom and torqued his wrist to put him down. His scream seemed over the top, but she didn’t care, because it stopped as soon as his face hit the sandy ground.

A county patrol car pulled into the drive behind Pauley’s dated green Mazda. Great. It had to be Raysor. The chunky deputy got out, donned his hat, and strode over to them, fisting a hickory billystick with a leather binding. She hadn’t seen one of those since Boston’s police museum. Why was she not surprised?

Callie tightened her hold as Pauley writhed.

“Arrest her!” Pauley yelled, squirming. “She’s trespassing! And she attacked me.”

Raysor studied the predicament. “Ms. Morgan, don’t make me yank you off him.”

She released Pauley and stepped back in case the guy ached for redemption. She didn’t want to give Raysor an excuse to dramatize the situation with physical intervention. Somebody would get embarrassed.

“What the hell happened here?” the deputy asked, tapping his leg with the stick.

Raysor should have specified one of them to go first, to avoid competition between the arguing sides, but she let Pauley speak uninterrupted. Her story could counterpunch his more easily that way.

“She was trying to break in,” Pauley said, almost wheezing with exasperation. With a taut arm, he pointed to the top of the steps. “Told her before not to mess with my house. She used to watch it for me, but when I suspected she was stealing, I banned her from the premises.”

Callie crossed her arms, fighting not to react to the man’s lies.

When Raysor just listened, not responding in the positive or negative, Pauley surged onward to fill the void. “She thinks because her father is a mayor and she’s a cop, that she can get away with breaking and entering, but I told her I wouldn’t stand for it, regardless of her threats.”

Callie leaned back, impressed at the detailed fabrication. She’d heard many a story explode with creative prowess when a cop walked up, and Pauley was giving it all he could.

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