The Traveling Corpse Read Free Page B

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    It was a great relief to both women when they
finally drove under the shelter of Vigeaux’s carport. There was
enough room on the wide cement drive for Barb to pull her golf cart
alongside Von’s Lincoln Town Car. They were happy to be protected
from the heavy rain as they wiggled out of the side curtains. They
had to pound hard on the side door of their friend’s manufactured
home to be heard over the storm. When Von finally came to the door,
he hurried them inside away from the stiff wind that was now
blowing the rain sideways into the carport.
    â€œQuick!” said Annie to Verna and Von without
waiting to greet her friends, “May I use your cell phone. Please,
it’s really an emergency!”
    The Vigeauxs looked at Barb for an
explanation, “She needs to call the police. She really does.”
    â€œYou’re welcome to use it, but it’s in my
car. We’ll have to go outside. And, oh, you need to call the
sheriff, not the police. BradLee’s in the county, not the
city.”
    â€œYou’re right, Von,” Annie said. “I grew up
in a city, and I always think of police before I do the
sheriff.”
    Verna, whose northern Maine accent was
stronger than her husband’s, tried to get them to wait until the
storm eased, “You’ll both get soaked if you go outdoors now. It’s
raining way too hard to go out there, even undah the cahport.
Surely, it won’t hurt to wait a few minutes. These kindar storms
nevah last too long.”
    â€œPlease, this is an emergency. I really need
to call for help right away,” Annie pleaded.
    Von ignored his wife. He’d been a lumberman
for many years, making his living in the rough, wild Maine woods,
and he wasn’t about to let a Florida rainstorm keep him from going
out to his car when it was parked in his own carport. He pulled his
car keys out of his pocket ready to go outside. “I’ll bring it in.
No sense both of us getting’ wet.” He thought to ask Annie, “Do you
know the phone number?”
    She shook her head.
    â€œWell, while you look up the number, I’ll run
out and fetch it. I keep it in the car just for emergencies.”
    Verna pushed her glasses up on her nose, then
reached for the phone book. As she was looking for the number of
the sheriff, she asked, “Why do you have to call the police? I
mean, the sheriff?” It was a natural question for a law-abiding
woman to ask.
    â€œJust give me the number,” Annie begged.
“Barb can tell you more.”
    Von’s shirt was damp by the time he arrived
back in the house. He turned on the cell phone and dialed the
number then handed the phone to Annie. She raised it to the side of
her head. Von explained, “Just talk into it like you would on a
regular phone.”
    She thanked him and mouthed to he and his
wife both, “Listen and you’ll get the whole story.”
    She expected to be calm and collected, but
when the dispatcher at the Sheriff’s Department answered, Annie
blurted out, “There’s a body, and it’s dead, and it’s in a drawer,
and…”
    The dispatcher interrupted, “Ma’am, I’ll put
you through to Sergeant Menendez.”
    When the sergeant came on the line, Annie was
surprised to hear a woman’s voice. The officer suggested that Annie
take a deep breath and then begin. Annie told her story—that she
had seen and felt the right arm and hand of a dead woman wearing
jewelry, red fingernail polish, and light blue denim jeans and that
it was in a drawer in BradLee’s Old Main Clubhouse.
    When she finally gave the phone back to Von,
Annie said with relief, “It took awhile, but I finally convinced
that woman sergeant that she needs to come out here to BradLee and
check this out.”
    Von shook his head in disbelief, “Annie,
you’ve had a horrible experience. You know Verna and I will do
anything and everything we can