Diana Anderson - Entering Southern Country 01 - Famous in a Small Town by Diana Anderson Page B

the porch. The padlock was on one of the worn, sun bleached, wooden planks. He reached down and picked it up. The shackle had been cut in two. He stood up, laid it on the porch rail, removed his weapon, and then eased the door open. He scanned the living room with the flashlight. The room was still trashed and tossed about as it had been the day the Neals’ bodies had been discovered.
    He made his way through the kitchen and down the hallway. He searched each room. Nobody was there. He felt that whoever had cut the lock had been there for the evidence that was locked away in a safe at the sheriff’s office.
    He wandered around from room to room and looked for some clue. He hoped that someone had slipped up and left something behind, but he didn’t find anything that he hadn’t seen the first day of the investigation.
    He walked out the door. The early morning sun peeked over the horizon. He scanned the area in thought and looked up over the tree line. Several buzzards circled over the wooded area not far from the trailer. It could be any number of things they were eyeing for their next meal. Animals that had been wounded, whether by a vehicle or a hunter’s weapon, often wandered into the woods and died.
    He walked down the steps and headed toward his car. After he’d given much thought over the past few days, he decided it was time to pay a visit to the Gentrys’ place.
    He took his cell phone out of his pocket and tapped in the speed dial number. A few rings later it was answered.
    “Justin, get a couple of the deputies out to the Neals’ place. The padlock’s been cut and someone’s been inside. I want it gone over again from one end to the other. Also have them take a look under the trailer where that dog was chained up.”
     

24
     
     
    Angus had been up most of the night. He couldn’t sleep. The dirt covered duffle bag he’d seen Agnes tote into the sheriff’s office had been on his mind. There could have been a number of things in that bag, but the size, shape, and color of the bag resembled the one he’d had in his closet that had gone missing. The bag was more than big enough to accommodate the money that bitch had stolen from him.
    But what was Agnes doing with it?
    From the way the bag had looked, she’d dug it up from somewhere. He had to find out, but how?
    He heard someone downstairs. He had long been showered and dressed. He made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mavis stood at the counter, preparing coffee.
    “‘Bout damn time,” he grumbled.
    “If I had known you needed your coffee before dawn, I’d have set the timer before I left yesterday.” She walked over to the refrigerator. “Would you like some breakfast?”
    “No. Just coffee.”
    She took out the cream and then closed the refrigerator. She grabbed a cup and saucer from the cabinet and turned toward him. “Would you like your coffee in the kitchen or dining room?”
    “Just fill my cup. I’m taking it outside to the patio.”
    She did as she was told and then handed it to him. He went out the French doors and sat down at the patio table nearest to the kitchen doors. His eyes wandered. He looked at nothing in particular as he continued in thought. He took a sip of his coffee and burnt the end of his tongue. He cursed under his breath. He blew across the hot liquid and brought it to his lips again. He didn’t take a sip. He set the cup down and reached inside the front pocket of his dress slacks and pulled out his cell phone. He located the number from his contacts and made the call.
    When the call was answered by a woman, he asked, “Is this Agnes?”
    “Who?”
    “Never mind, I need to speak with Callie … uh, Mrs. Wallace.”
    “Sir, she’s not available to take your call right now. I’ll be glad to take a message. May I ask who’s calling?”
    “I know she’s there. She never gets out of bed this early. Tell her it’s very important.”
    “Sir—”
    “Tell her it’s an old friend of the