We patrolled Sugar Creek from my porch. Amos and I. Oh yeah, and little McGruff the Crime Dog. Porgy’s ears shot up from time to time. With his tummy full of Kibbles ’n Bits, thanks to Amos, he seemed at peace despite being in a strange home. I wish I felt a bit peaceful.
My eyes wandered up the hill wondering what evidence the investigators had found. The card from Detective Wilkes sat near my phone in the hallway. Who knows? I might think of something else. I already knew sweet dreams wouldn’t be visiting me.
It was still muggy even though the sun had dipped lower in the sky. Every once in a while a breeze caressed my skin. To keep us cool, I’d fixed some fresh brewed sweet tea. I said brewed not that powdered stuff. You can choke and die on that nasty concoction some folks liked to call tea.
I was still trying to get myself used to Splenda. It ain’t half bad.
I kicked my foot to get the rocking chair to glide back and forth. The chairs were old, but comfortable. With a recent coat of white paint, thanks to my oldest son, the chairs looked brand new.
Amos still wore his denim overalls, but at least he’d retired his hat onto his knee. He looked content. I didn’t want to disturb him, but I needed advice and he seemed like the logical place to start. Plus, it gave me a chance to actually talk to him about something besides the weather and the grass.
I knew he’d worked in law enforcement in some type of capacity. Today, he’d managed to get the necessary authorities to Mary’s house in no time and seemed to be quite friendly with the crew traipsing around behind the crime tape.
“Amos, you know about the neighborhood association?”
“Yeah, the group is a good idea. Now more than ever. People are getting stranger and stranger.”
Tell me about it. Signs of the times for sure. “I can’t help but think how none of us helped poor Mary. What can we do to prevent this from happening again?” Better yet, I wanted to find the culprit. All afternoon I’d watched neighbors come and go. I didn’t realize how many folks I didn’t know. The neighborhood had changed, and now a new crop of young couples and their children lived here. A few retirees like me, Louise and Amos were scattered here and there.
Amos and his wife were from the crop of northern folks who chose to retire on the coast of South Carolina instead of Florida. Charleston was a town rich in history, some bad and some good.
Amos stopped rocking. “I’m still new here, has anything like this happened before in the neighborhood? I was reading the other day; North Charleston had been ranked the seventh-most dangerous city in the nation back in 2007. In recent years, the crime rate decreased. I believe we are around sixty-three now. That’s a definite improvement.”
“Yeah, I saw that list.” I shivered. “Still Jesus must be coming back soon. The world has clearly lost it.”
There were rumors about young men selling drugs out of their home. The house was three doors down from mine. Both young men waved when I passed by, but they did have an awful lot of folks in and out their house at night. They suddenly moved. Nobody knew where they went or where they came from.
Then, there are the robberies. Poor Annie Mae and Willie Mae Brown, the two sisters who lived a few doors down came home one night from playing bingo only to find many valuables stolen, including their television. For days those two old women couldn’t stop talking about missing their stories. Now who would’ve thought the world would come to an end when you couldn’t see your soap operas? Even though I was here during the day now, I still couldn’t bring myself to get attached to television actors and their imaginary problems.
Now Dr. Phil. I can watch that man all day. He tells it like it is. Just the way I like it.
Amos held up his index finger. “You know what you need is to get some history. Police reports are public record you know.”
I raised an eyebrow at Amos’ suggestion. “Really? I know they have a database for sex offenders. Do I need to be checking all that out?” I can’t believe the word sex came out of my mouth in front of this man. When he was alive, I don’t think my own husband heard me say that word. Ever.
“If you want to make this neighborhood association stronger than those signs y’all got up and down the street, you need to know what you are up against.”
“Can you help with some of this?”
Amos grinned. He still had all his teeth. They didn’t appear to be dentures either. “I will be happy to help where I can.”
That made me feel a tad bit better. I’ve wondered how Amos spent his retirement days in an empty house, a predicament I was still adjusting to myself. The more I thought about what happened to Mary, the more I started to fathom my own lonely state.
I had Cedric’s steel baseball bat. But what good would that do me if someone walked in on me with a gun?
And Mary. I sucked in a breath. Maybe I shouldn’t leave that butcher block of knives sitting around on my kitchen counter.
A noise broke through my worry session. I looked down at my feet where the dog laid. His eyes were closed tight. I listened. Well, Porgy was no guard dog that’s for sure. That little mutt had the nerve to be snoring. We can’t have that. I’m the only one who snores in my house. Sometimes I woke myself up.
I would lie awake for sure. Visions of murder and mayhem would assail me for the rest of the night.
“Eugeena.” Amos had stopped rocking. “I believe you’ve got company.”
Sure enough, a car had slowed down in front of my house. I know I needed to work on being more hospitable, but it was getting late in the day.
I eased my hips out of the rocking chair to get a better look at the vehicle. Dusk had arrived quickly, casting a reddish tone across the landscape. The car turned into my driveway. When I caught sight of the old Nissan Altima, I wasn’t sure if I should shout for joy or slump in misery. My prodigal daughter had returned.