Jed Had to Die

Deputy Lloyd: Does she still exhibit this type of behavior as an adult? If someone were to do something to upset her or make her angry now, do you think she’s capable of doing them harm to, as you said, get back at them?

Ruby Lambert: Well, I guess it depends how bad it upset her or made her angry. And then you have to think about whether or not she’s got any coffee in her system. That child is hell on wheels without her coffee, let me tell you. During our phone call the other morning, you know, when I called to tell her what a horrible child she was for not calling her mama first, she told me she would go on a murderous rampage if she didn’t get her coffee.

*Light chuckling*

Deputy Lloyd: Ma’am, you do know your daughter is a suspect for the murder of Jed Jackson, correct?

Rudy Lambert: Lord Almighty…How many pumpkin rolls do you think it takes to fix something like that?

Deputy Lloyd: Mrs. Lambert, we’re talking about the murder of one of our most prominent citizens and the mayor of Bald Knob. I don’t think pumpkin rolls are going to fix anything.

Rudy Lambert: Have you tasted one of my pumpkin rolls, young man? I don’t need an exact number, just a ballpark figure. What do you think, forty? Forty-five? You know what, I’ll just make fifty to be on the safe side and drop one off to you tomorrow morning. How does nine o’clock sound?

Deputy Lloyd: Ma’am, I think right now you should be more concerned with getting your daughter a lawyer.

Rudy Lambert: Don’t worry, I already called Billy Ray Lewis.

Deputy Lloyd: Ma’am, I think Payton will need someone with a little more experience in criminal law. Billy Ray Lewis has never even stepped foot in a courtroom and only handles divorces and the occasional traffic violation.

Rudy Lambert: And he did a wonderful job for Andrea Maynard when that good-for-nothing husband of hers left town a few years back and got himself a new family over in Lexington. Plus, Billy Ray loves my pumpkin rolls.

CHAPTER 11

I haven’t had my coffee yet. Don’t make me kill you.

—Coffee Mug

“I’m just saying, is it too much to ask for a little compassion? It’s not like I need him to fawn all over me, but how about asking if I’m okay or checking to see if I need anything?” I complain to Emma Jo as we sit huddled next to each other on the hanging swing on her front porch.

After I threw up the contents of my stomach and finally got Emma Jo to stop screaming about how we killed her husband, we’d spent the last hour sitting on the front porch with our arms linked, watching Leo, Buddy, and Billy Ray Lewis go back and forth between their cars parked in the street and the backyard. The only reason I was able to get Emma Jo to stop freaking out and announcing to the entire town that we were murderers, was the appearance of Billy Ray. Sure, he’s the coroner for Bald Knob and that would make some people nervous who may or may not have baked a pie filled with toilet bowl cleaner for the man who is currently lying dead in the yard, but it didn’t make us nervous. Billy Ray is also the town lawyer, a bagger at Knob Grocery, runs the feed store at the edge of town, and dumber than a box of rocks. How on earth he ever got a law degree and was appointed as Bald Knob’s coroner is beyond me. Billy Ray was the guy in high school who ate his own boogers and drew penises on everything he could get his hands on – textbook spines, lockers, desks, chalkboards, and every piece of homework or test he turned in. Billy Ray Lewis being the one in charge of determining how Jed Jackson died makes me feel a lot better about my chances of wearing prison jump suit orange for the rest of my life.

“You doing okay, Emma Jo?”

I try not to huff when Leo pauses at the base of the porch steps and directs his question at Emma Jo, just like he’s done every time he’s passed by us. Emma Jo gives him a tight smile and a nod, and he returns both before going on his way to the side of the house.

“Seriously? Am I invisible? I could be having a nervous breakdown right now, and he wouldn’t care,” I complain when he’s out of earshot, getting more and more annoyed every time I see him smile sympathetically at Emma Jo, give Emma Jo a hug, or check on her wellbeing.

Sure, he’s closer friends with Emma Jo since they’ve lived in the same town together all this time, and sure, he’s still irritated I didn’t recognize him and probably still has a bug up his ass about how I ignored his crush on me back in high school, but give me a break. I just saw my first dead body too, you know. I wouldn’t turn down a hug or a reassuring pat on the back. Hell, I’d even take one of his stupid winks or smirks at this point.

“You look perfectly calm. I’m sure that’s the only reason he hasn’t said anything to you.”

“I could be crying on the inside. He has no idea, the jerk,” I grumble.

When Emma Jo doesn’t respond, I turn my head and look at her profile. Her face is still pale, her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy from crying, and now I’M the jerk in this situation and it doesn’t feel good.

“God, I’m such a bitch. Your husband is dead in your backyard and here I am complaining about some guy not paying me enough attention. And a guy I don’t give two shits about, at that,” I mutter softly.

Whatever. I’m not lying, YOU’RE lying.

“You definitely don’t give two shits about him. I think you’re probably up to about twenty shits, by my last count,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder into mine.

“Can you keep your voice down? Next thing you know, it will be all over town I take twenty shits a day,” I complain, nodding in the direction of Starla and half the people who live on this street, huddled over in Starla’s front yard, whispering and pointing in this direction.