Nobody Can Say It's You

18

Hadley was wiping the tears from her eyes.

"That's a funny story, Anna," she said.

"I know," said Anna, "but if I publish it, Old Pa's going to be irate. There's only one man called 'Old Pa' within 50 miles of here. Everyone will know it's Reedy Lanier."

"I don't think Old Pa will ever see that story on your website," said Hadley. "Besides, I don't think neither he nor Verla Amile nor Wilbert can read."

"But some of their family can," said Anna.

"All right," said Hadley, "just leave out 'Old Pa' and replace it with 'Pap.' We got a million Paps around here. Probably half of them still use the outdoor john. Just put this story in the fiction category. I wouldn't mess too much with it. We don't want to spoil this child's creative efforts. And I got a sneaking feeling you're going to get more stories along this line."

"Me, too," said Anna. "I think they are charming and funny. I'm just worried that there will be some folks out there who won't see them that way."

"There's always going to be naysayers and party poopers," said Hadley. "I think you're off to a great start. Just eat some pie. Things will look better afterward, I promise."

"I wish all our problems could be made better with pie," said Anna, making sure not to leave one crumb of Hadley's delicious crust. "You really should open a restaurant, Hadley. People would flock for miles to eat your cooking."

"I would," Hadley said, "but it would cut into my other extracurricular activities!"

Both women laughed.

"Keep me posted on this project," Hadley said.

"I will," said Anna.

Hadley cleaned up the dishes and wiped down the counters. She was still smiling as she thought about Old Pa running out of that weather-beaten, old outhouse thinking he'd been shot.

***

Her cell rang.

"Hadley."

"Yeah, Sis."

"Don't say anything," Maury said.

"I won't. What is it?"

"Bill let it slip, accidentally on purpose, that the blood on that butcher knife wasn't human."

"That relieves my mind."

"I know. I think Bill was afraid that you and I would freak out at the thought of being so close to a dead man who also had human blood on his butcher knife."

"Nightmare on my street, all right," Hadley said. "Did he say anything else?"

"No," said Maury. "He hurried off to the office. Plans to be there all day doing paperwork. Unless something comes up, that is."

Hadley rang off. Good thing she'd stocked up at Pixies.

She started in making Bill's favorite for lunch – homemade chicken salad. She'd worked nonstop, but by lunchtime, it was ready. She dished it up and headed into town. She pulled up in front of the little shingle that said, Sheriff's Office.

"Well, this is a surprise," Bill said. "I hope nothing's wrong, Hadley."

"Right as rain with me, dear brother-in-law. I just had way too many leftovers, and I needed a little help getting rid of them."

"Hadley, I don't care how many times you use that worn-out line, you know that I am just the guy for that job."

"Is Elwin or Wayman in? There's plenty here for everybody. You'd think after all this time, I'd have figured out how to cook in small batches."

"I, for one, am glad you haven't," Bill said. "No. It's just me. They're both out on patrol."

"Wipe your face, Bill. You look like the bad end of a chicken-salad eating contest. The butt end, not the beak end."

"Thanks, Hadley, but I can't help myself. I always have to dive in face first. This stuff really hits the spot."

"Well, when you've finished with that, there's chocolate cake in that sack, too," Hadley said. "And don't tell Maury, but I've got some homemade donuts in there for all of you boys."

"Did I ever tell you that you were my favorite sister-in-law?"

"At least a million times. And the fact that I'm your only sister-in-law has nothing to do with it, huh."

"Nothing a'tall."

Bill looked at Hadley sitting there looking like an innocent dropped down from the clouds. He wasn't fooled at all.

My guess is," said Bill, "that you didn't just make this chicken salad to drop by and see my gorgeous face."

"What do you mean?" Hadley asked.

"The chicken salad's not leftover," Bill said. "It's still warm."

Hadley's cheeks flushed.

"The cake's leftover, though," she said. "I forgot you're a trained lawman. Should have known you'd catch me in that little white lie. Maury told me that the blood on the knife wasn't human," Hadley said.

"It's not, I'm happy to say," Bill said. "Did my lovely wife tell you anything else?"

"No," said Hadley.