Free Thistle and Twigg by Mary Saums Page A

he left his vehicle, he did only two things. He made one sweep across his field of vision, taking everything and everyone in, then he locked his sights on Phoebe as he strode directly to her side. His impassive expression transformed instantly into a friendly smile, in the space of a snap of a finger, when Phoebe saw him.
    They spoke at once. “Miz Twigg. You all right?” He placed his big hands on her shoulders. Phoebe brought her own hands down from her face and said, “Daniel, son, I’m so glad you’re here. It was the awfulest thing but I’m okay now.” His head bobbed as he spoke reassuring words. Then he turned his attention to me.
    “Miz Thistle?”
    “Yes. Jane Thistle. How do you do?” I said. “I’m the one who called.”
    “Detective Dan Waters, ma’am,” he said as he shook my hand. “You told the dispatcher you found a body?”
    “Yes. Not far from here.” I pointed toward the road leading into Cal’s land.
    He nodded, still holding onto my hand, still looking directly into my eyes. When he said nothing more, I felt compelled to continue. I gave him a brief account of our ordeal in a few sentences. He nodded again when I finished. “Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like you ladies to walk with me a little ways.”
    I had no objections and Phoebe, though still a bit rattled, had calmed considerably since Detective Waters’ arrival. When we all passed Cal’s gate and his “Keep Out” signs on the way to the body, the detective said, “You were on Prewitt land?”
    “Yes,” I said. “With permission. He said we could use the firing range this morning. Phoebe and I had done so when we saw him.”
    “Saw Cal?”
    “No, sorry. The deceased person.”
    “Cal wasn’t with you?”
    “No. Just the two of us.”
    “And have you seen Cal this morning, ladies?”
    “No,” Phoebe and I said together.
    At the boulders, Detective Waters stood looking in all directions, turning slowly as he surveyed the area. He squatted next to the still form and reached into his own jacket pocket. He took out a pair of rubber gloves, pulled them on, and lifted the deceased’s shoulder a few inches, just where I had put my hand earlier. To my surprise, Phoebe edged forward as close as she could to the body to see. Her squeamishness had turned into fascination.
    The poor man looked very young, in his early twenties, I’d say. I realized the green and brown coat was one a hunter might wear. I shocked myself when the idea that Cal might have shot him for poaching popped into my mind. I didn’t believe it for a moment and dismissed the thought. Cal had shown himself to be a careful shot thus far.
    Detective Waters stood and spoke to his men. “Everyone, stay alert. Keep in mind where we are. Cal is usually armed, usually drinking, maybe pointing a shotgun at us right now. Let’s be careful. See if you can find him and bring him to me, would you please.”
    The flat tone of his words sent a chill down me. I felt sure Cal wouldn’t have killed someone, accidentally or otherwise. Of course, since he was one of the very few people I’d met in Tullulah, I wondered if perhaps I’d assumed too much in thinking he would be innocent. It was, after all, unlikely for anyone other than himself to be on the property. But then, why was this young man here?
    “The house is that way,” Detective Waters continued. Two officers headed in the direction indicated. “The rest of you spread out. To the edge of the woods and back here first, please.” Detective Waters turned us. “So you haven’t seen him today?”
    “Nope,” Phoebe said. “Not hide nor hair.”
    I hesitated. “No.” I didn’t like to talk about him. I don’t know why. I understood that from the authorities’ point of view, Cal would certainly be the first to question since the body was on his land. I felt terrible for him. Hearing Cal talk on the porch may have brought out a motherly instinct, perhaps too much of one.
    The policemen’s