Free Home Is Where Your Boots Are by Kalan Chapman Lloyd

figured I’d ask you to see what you could find out before we went and made a big stink for the family.” He finished and waited as I quickly processed.
    Dead body missing vital organs and stuffed with plastic? Check. My childhood friend’s father wanting me to investigate instead of the police? Check. Overwhelming sense of nausea and ickiness. Um, yeah.
    I smiled more reassuringly than I felt.
    “Why me, Mr. Ronnie? I’m an attorney, not a detective.”
    “True. But I know how important the truth is to you. And how clever you are. I figured if anyone could figure something out, it would be you.” This was true. And sounded like a detriment to my health. “And maybe it’s nothing. But I want to make sure.”
    “I’m sure Scotty could help, under the table, if you asked him,” I advised, avoiding agreeing with Ronnie.
    “Maybe. But I don’t want to put him in that predicament. Don’t want him to have to be faced with the ethics of that.” I laughed.
    “But me you’re okay with?” He had the good sense to look chagrined.
    “I know you lawyers say you have ethics, but aren’t the lines a little blurry?”
    “No.”
    “Lilly.” He frowned at me. “Come on.” I conceded.
    “Unspoken, of course, but yes, they’ve been blurred a time or two on certain things.”
    “See!” He crowed, happy with himself and relieved he hadn’t offended me.
    “Fine.” I told him. I couldn’t tell him no. He was Amber’s dad. And he was right. I did have a problem with making everything right. And it sounded a lot more fun than dealing with Cash.
    “Great. Um, I know Raylene would have my hide for asking up front, but how much are we talking here?” I shook my head, embarrassed.
    “Nothing. This isn’t really legal work. You can’t hire me for this. I’ll see what I can find , and if something comes to fruition and you need to sue, you can retain me for that and we’ll talk about dollars then. Maybe.” He nodded knowingly.
    “Right. Okay, then, what else do you need from me?”
    “Let’s go over the details one more time so I can get it all down , and then we’ll see what we can do.” He nodded gratefully and took a drag from his styrofoam cup. I started to write.
    “Okay, now where was the body before it came to you? Did it come straight? Or did y’all pick it up?” I asked.
    “The hospital.” A light bulb brightened over my head , and I sighed with relief.
    “The person was probably an organ donor, Ronnie,” I told him, relieved. He was shaking his head before I could finish.
    “That was my first thought. I called the widow. That wasn’t the case.”
    Shit.
    “Oh, and something else. He was missing his fingernails.”
    On a stick.

Chapter Twelve
     
    I had decided to bite the bullet. It had been seven weeks since I’d had an overpriced haircut , and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I figured a trip to the hairdresser might take my mind off the swirling thoughts and ugly images that were keeping my mind busy. After Ronnie Duvall had come into the office yesterday, I’d spent the rest of Friday splitting my time between addressing letters to advertise my legal services and trying to explain away the possibility that someone had taken a femur bone from a dead man’s leg and replaced it with something you could buy from the lumber yard. I’d had to fight against my instinctual urge to tell someone .
    Nonnie would have herself down to the hospital sniffing around faster than goose grease. Fae Lynn wouldn’t be able to keep from questioning every 911 caller. Tally breaks out in the hives at the very mention of dead people . Mama had been a better option, but when I dialed the number, I thought better of telling my mother that someone wanted me to investigate an illegal activity. No doubt she’d lecture me and then be worried as all get out. The lecture wasn’t an issue, but I’d worried her enough in the past two months to last a lifetime. After the disaster named Van, it was probably a good