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  “No, we are so new here and haven’t been spending any time thinking about dying. Who is the best?”

  “When Louise died, I called Arthur Dobbins. I’ve known Art forever. He was the only one I considered to take care of Louise.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry, I had forgotten. We had heard your wife had died. Cancer, right?”

  “Yes. Would you like for me to call Art for you? He’ll handle everything tonight, and you can go see him tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Clay, I appreciate all you’re doing.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Clay left the office, and from the kitchen used his cell phone to call Art Dobbins.

  When the arrangements were made, he went back to Harry’s office.

  “All set, Arthur said anytime tomorrow you can come by and work through everything. If you can, I would like to talk to you about tonight.”

  Harry drained the last of the bourbon in his glass and said, “Fine.”

  “Let me tell you what we know. The two men are bad guys, long records. What I don’t know is why. Why you? Why this house? What’s the motive?”

  Harry interrupted, “I think I may have the answer.” Harry stood up and motioned to Clay to follow. They walked out of the office through the kitchen to an open area between the dining room and great room. As a break between the two spaces, there was a large walnut table with antique porcelain candle holders on each end. The centerpiece of the table was a golden box with a glass centerpiece revealing large gold coins; it was the prize from the Literary Association. The box and coins were worth $125,000.

  “Clay, this has been in every newspaper and on every TV station in America. All the local news folks covered the reception at the county. Probably not many people in the county that don’t know about this.”

  Clay placed his big left hand over his mouth, raised his eyebrows and stared at the box. He finally looked at Harry, “I’m sorry, I had assumed the coins would have been in some secure place. But you’re right, strong motive.”

  The two men looked up as Deputy Morris Canady, and a new deputy, much older, walked up to the table.

  “Harry, these are my deputies, Morris Canady and Al Johnson. Al was the former sheriff and is now my assistant.”

  “Gentlemen, the motive,” and he pointed to the golden box.

  The deputies nodded affirmatively, and Harry said, “Why don’t one of you pick it up.”

  Morris pointed at Al and said, “Age before beauty.”

  Al leaned over, put one hand on each side of the box and did not move it.

  “What the heck, it’s fastened to the table.”

  Harry smiled, “I assure it is not.”

  “Move, old man,” Morris said as he grabbed the box and moved it about an inch.

  “Gentlemen, everything but the glass is solid gold. Do you know how much it weighs, Harry?”

  “I’m told close to 100 pounds.”

  The two deputies were speechless.

  “Morris, stay in charge out here. Make sure we get plenty of pictures. When Dobbins gets here, let me know. Harry, would you mind if Al sits with us while we talk?”

  “Fine.”

  The three men went back to Harry’s office.

  “Harry tell us what happened here tonight.”

  Chapter 3

  It was two in the morning, and the house was finally empty. Harry was flat worn out and felt very alone. The times that Maggie had traveled without him, there was always Belle as his constant companion. The only time he could think of, that he had been entirely alone, was when she took Belle to the vet.

  The hard fact of the matter was he had better get used to being by himself because he was more than likely going to be by himself until he died. He just could not go back to their bedroom now. He loved his big leather recliner, so many good naps there. Then his thought was maybe a second bourbon would be in order. He retrieved his glass, filled it to the halfway mark and sat and leaned back as far as the chair would go. He closed his eyes. He truly was exhausted, but he could not sleep.

  He thought about his kids. Should he call them now? No, let them sleep. It was going to be a hard day when they found out she was gone. Sally and her husband Troy were already planning to be here anyway. Sally was their youngest and their only natural child. His mind jumped to when they first married and put their two families together. He had two boys, four and six, and she had a boy, six and a girl, eight. Their commitment to each other was, there would never be his or hers; they would always be ours. In spite of many other issues in their marriage, they had done a pretty good job with their children. None ever in any real trouble, no drugs, alcohol in moderation, and best of all, they were all believers. All five were settled, married, and doing well, even though three were in second marriages. The kids’ choices, the second time around, were far better than their first.

  He wanted to sleep; it just wouldn’t come. His mind was racing. Clay Hardaway, he really liked the man. He was considerate and kind, but there was never any doubt about who was in charge. Respect, you could see he had it not only from his employees but also the EMTs, the coroner and even the man from the funeral home. Maggie, my Maggie. What a life we have had! How our relationship had evolved over our 46 years of marriage. His mind wandered, Clay had lost his wife, so they had one thing in common. He had to go to Clay’s office today and to Dobbins Funeral Home. Maybe he would wait on Sally before he went to Dobbins. They were low on food. They were going to shop this morning before Sally arrived. Could he get that done? They would need more now. Everyone would be coming, Johnny, Paul, Pete and, of course, darling Millie.

  Those sons of bitches who came in and killed Maggie and Belle. All they had to do was ask, and I would have given them the gold and anything they wanted. Just ask and go and leave us alone. But no, scum bags, no thought of life. Damn, I wish I could shoot them again. One reckless act is going to cause so much pain. Bastards. He sat up and drank about half of his bourbon. He leaned back again, closed his eyes and slept.

  The back of the house faced his gazebo, docks, and Pine Lake. When the sun started rising over the trees on the other side of the lake, its bright early morning rays came through his porch and enveloped his recliner. He slowly opened his eyes and realized that all of his joints ached. With great effort, he stood and thought, Where is Maggie? Then the events of the night before hit him. He needed coffee. The Keurig in the kitchen was his quick answer. He needed coffee before he made his first call.

  Halfway through his second cup, he called Sally. She was devastated. Once she regained her composure, she said she would repack and that they would be on the road within the hour. He was crying again. He would need more coffee and some time before he called Millie. He needed to be strong for his family. So, stop the damn crying. After a few minutes, he called Millie. She was stunned, but more in control than Sally. Millie asked if he knew where her mother was, and he told her, Dobbins Funeral Home.

  “No, Dad,” she replied, “she is with our dear Lord.” He didn’t know why, but he could not control himself. He began to sob. Neither one could speak, they just cried together for what seemed like a long time. She finally spoke.

  “Dad, I have things to do, but I will be there by dark. I love you, Dad.”

  He tried to tell her he loved her too, but it was lost in his moan.

  Millie had agreed to call Pete and Johnny. Sally was calling Paul. He knew his phone would be ringing soon, so he poured more coffee and took a quick shower, hoping to regain his composure. The problem was, at every turn, her things were there. Everything appeared the same except she and Belle were gone.

  For some reason, the damages to the house began to weigh on him. They had to be repaired and quickly. When he and Maggie had moved in, they had met a handyman named Ed Tuttle. He was a short man with a big barrel chest and thinning grey hair which was almost always covered by an ‘NRA’ baseball style cap. Ed was in his mid-fifties and was more than competent in carpentry, plumbing, electrical and mos
t things that might need to be done in a house. He had done a lot of work for them and had spent much time in their home. Ed and Maggie had bonded. He had to call Ed.

  “Ed, Harry Blake.”

  “You up mighty early, ain’t you, Mr. Harry?”

  “Got some bad news, Ed.” He then proceeded to give Ed the details of the previous night.

  “That ain’t very funny, Mr. Harry.”

  “I’m not kidding, Ed, it’s true.”

  “Naw, naw, not Mrs. Maggie, No, Mr. Harry, no!”

  “Ed, I need your help. My front door is blown all to hell so is the porch door to the bedroom. I don’t want my family to see it longer than they have to. I hate to ask because I know how busy you are, but is there any way you could handle this quickly for me?”

  “Consider it done. I’ll be at y’all’s house within the hour.”

  “Ed, I have things to do in town. If I’m gone, you know what to do. As always, everything first class. I trust your judgment.”

  “Yessir, Lordy, I can’t believe Mrs. Maggie’s gone!”

  In the next thirty minutes, he talked to all three boys. After their calls, there were just no more tears. He felt drugged. His phone was ringing again. This time neighbors. He did not answer; he wasn’t ready for those calls. He needed to get out. He headed for Clay Hardaway’s office.

  Chapter 4

  Polk County had one big county government building. All the county government offices were there, including the sheriff’s office and the county jail. Harry pulled into the parking lot and saw the big black SUV in its reserved parking place. He and Clay had arrived at the same time.

  Clay escorted Harry into his office while they exchanged nods. Neither man spoke. Clay left and came back with Al Johnson and coffee. Al closed the door and spoke first, “Mr. Blake, we have typed a statement recapping what you told us about the events of last night. We would like for you to read and sign if you agree it is true and accurate. Why don’t you read it, but before you sign, we have one other point we need to talk about.”

  Harry read the statement, laid it on the desk and said, “I think this is fine. Now, what else do we need to talk about?”

  Al looked at Clay, waiting for him to speak. “Harry, we didn’t mention this last night, but Jesse, the coroner, said the families of the two men might question this.” There was a pause, but Harry did not speak.

  “The shots in the face at point-blank range, could you explain?”

  Harry stared at the floor with a blank expression on his face. He finally raised his head and looked right into Clay’s eyes. “When it was over, I moved Maggie off the table, and I saw how bad the shotgun had violated her body. I went to each one of the bastards, and I screamed obscenities and shot each of them in the face. I wanted whoever saw them know they had been violated the way they violated my Maggie. As I have gotten older and have seen how this world has evolved, I have begun to hate evil with a passion. I used to think it was bad, but it didn’t bother me the way it does now. I hate it. If someone wants to sue me over it, screw them. Bring it on. Then I can say what’s on my mind. The evil bastards didn’t ask for the gold. I would have given it to them plus everything else they wanted. No, the evil sons of bitches killed my Maggie and Belle without even trying to get what they wanted without killing. Clay, Al, I would have given it to them.” He was sobbing again, not for sadness but mad again. “I wish I had reloaded the shotgun and blown their heads off. They took my Maggie for no cause. May they rot in hell forever.” Harry stood up walked to the window in Clay’s office and tried to stop shaking and regain his composure.

  After a few minutes of silence, Clay spoke, “Al, you have any more questions?”

  Al stood up, stared at Harry, “None, Mr. Blake. I understand.” He left the office.

  Clay stood up, “Coffee has gotten cold, Harry. I’ll get some fresh; be right back.”

  Clay returned in a few minutes with fresh coffee, and Harry spoke first, “Clay, I want to apologize. I lost it. I’m trying to figure out how to deal with this. I’m not doing real well with it so far. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “No apologies necessary. I think you are doing fine under the circumstances. Why don’t you sign the statement and let’s move on. This should be the only thing you have to do. You are not charged with any crime. The intruders have been taken care of, at least there is nothing else my office can do. What could I do to help you?”

  “Clay. Nothing. You have been very kind. My family is on the way, so some sad days are ahead.”

  “Harry, what did you do with the box of coins?”

  “Nothing, still where you saw them last night.”

  “How did you secure your front door?”

  “I didn’t, but Ed Tuttle is coming out to replace or fix everything.”

  “Harry, we need to talk about this. There are more than two bad guys in this county, and everybody knows about the gold.”

  “You may be right, let’s talk after the family leaves.”

  “If I can do anything for you or your family, let me know.”

  “Thanks.”

  When Harry got to his car, his phone rang; it was Sally. They were 30 minutes out, and they agreed to meet at the funeral home. At the funeral home, the arrangements were made. Maggie’s body would not be ready until that evening, so the decision was made for a family viewing only on the following day. Maggie had insisted on cremation and family viewing only.

  With the arrangements made, Harry, Sally and her husband left to do a big grocery shop with the rest of the family on the way.

  They were surprised when they stepped into the funeral home parking lot to find two different TV vans plus a half dozen of reporters, all wanting to get interviews with Harry. It was a reminder of the publicity he had received with the literary award he had won. The award ceremony had been covered by all the networks and cable news. He had actually appeared on one of the morning business shows.

  Sally turned to Harry and said, “Dad, you and Troy go to your car and let me handle this.” Sally was a VP for one of the big tech companies and was comfortable dealing with the press. Troy and Harry trotted to the car, while Sally called all the reporters to gather round. “Please respect the privacy of my father and our family during our time of grief. He will provide a statement to you within a few days. I will not be taking any questions at this time. I am Sally Smith, the youngest daughter of Harry and Maggie Blake. Thank you.”

  All the reporters began shouting questions, but Sally moved quickly to her car and off to meet her father and husband at the grocery store.

  Chapter 5

  In the grocery store parking lot, Harry called Clay and told him what happened at the funeral home. They discussed the possibility of what could be happening at Harry’s house. After considering the options, Clay agreed to send a deputy to screen visitors to the house. Plus, Clay decided to draft a statement that he would release to the press. They would talk when Harry returned home.

  After purchasing a massive amount of groceries, Harry, Sally, and Troy returned to the house, where they were met by several news trucks and other cars on both sides of the road. A sheriff’s sawhorse barricade blocked the driveway, so no one could enter. Immediately the press vacated their vehicles and headed for the driveway. As the two cars started down the long steep driveway, they saw two pickups and a utility trailer. In the doorway was Ed Tuttle and two helpers installing a new front door. Harry pulled his car into the garage. Sally and Troy pulled in close to the garage door opening. When they got out, Ed came walking over to Sally and Troy, “My name is Ed Tuttle, and I can look at you and know for sure you belong to Mrs. Maggie.”

  At the sound of her mother’s name, Sally began to tear up.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Sally waved her hand in front of her face and choked out, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Harry walked out of the garage to join the group and Ed with tears in his eyes, took off his sweaty NRA cap revealing his thinni
ng gray hair plastered against his head. He grabbed Harry and began to cry, “Mr. Harry, I am so, so, so sorry. You know I loved Mrs. Maggie.” He immediately thought he had made a mistake. “I mean, I really liked her a lot. I shouldn’t of said love. I’m sorry.”

  “Ed, it’s alright, you said nothing wrong; she loved you too.”

  “Mr. Harry, what in the world happened?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later, but first, how’s the work coming?”

  Sally now composed said, “Dad, you go on with Mr. Tuttle and Troy and I will unload everything.”

  “It’s Ed, ma’am. I ain’t no mister,” he said with a sheepish grin as he replaced his hat. Harry and Ed walked to the front door and Harry could see they were almost finished.

  “It’s different than what you had, but it was the nicest one I could find.”

  “It’s beautiful, Ed; Maggie would have loved it.”

  “You think? Well, it ought to be, it cost enough. Let’s go see how the others are doing.” They went through the great room to the porch and the doorway to the master suite. There were two more men who were finishing their work.

  “Ed, where did you get all the help on such short notice?”

  “Ol’ Ed can still make it happen, Mr. Harry. We’ll be out of here in about ten more minutes, and you can be alone with your family. Your daughter is beautiful like Mrs. Maggie.”

  “Thank you, Ed, now let’s settle up.”

  “Mr. Harry I’m just charging you for materials, the labor is my gift to Mrs. Maggie.”

  “No way, Ed. Maggie would have my head if I did that.”

  Ed stared across the edge of the guest room through the porch and out across the lake. After a minute he said, “I would really like to do it.”

  “Ed, Maggie would never have it.”

  Ed finally reached in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his little notebook and a wooden pencil. He put the dull lead point in his mouth, scribbled several things on the page tore it out and handed it to Harry.