style="font-size:15px;"> “Mom! Is that you? What’s wrong? Where are you? Mom? Mom! For the love of God, what’s wrong?”
It was Trey’s voice that finally pulled her back.
“I need you. You have to come. Oh, dear Jesus,” Betsy moaned, and then got out of the car and dropped to the ground, putting her head between her knees to keep from passing out.
Earl Redd had already come rushing into the room, alerted to the emergency by what Trey was saying.
“Where are you? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Trey asked, heading for the door on the run.
“Dick Phillips! Come to his farm! Oh, my God, hurry.”
“Mom! I need to know what happened so I can dispatch emergency vehicles. Who’s hurt? What happened?”
“Dick. He’s dead. Oh God, oh God, he’s dead.”
Trey slid to a dead stop on the sidewalk, and Earl stopped right along with him.
“He’s dead? Are you sure?” Trey asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. He’s hanging from the rafters in his barn.”
The moment those words came out of her mouth, she dropped the phone and started screaming again.
Trey clenched his jaw as he made a U-turn and headed back into the office with Earl at his heels. He found his day dispatcher, Avery Jones, cleaning dead flies off the windowsill.
“What’s up, Chief?” he asked.
“I need you to get on the phone, not the radio, and tell the county sheriff’s office there’s a death at Dick Phillips’s farm. Give them directions and ask if they want you to notify the coroner or if they’re going to do it. Then I need you to call in Carl and Lonnie and tell them I want them on patrol in town until further notice.”
Avery’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question the orders. “Any details you want me to pass on?” he asked.
“Tell the sheriff a man was hanged. We don’t know if it’s a murder or a suicide and I damn sure don’t want that to get out. Dick has a daughter who deserves to know all this first.”
“Yes, sir,” Avery said, then grabbed the phone and a list of numbers. He began making calls as Trey and Earl left on the run.
“God Almighty,” Earl said. “This is awful.”
Trey nodded. “Follow me,” he said, and jumped into his cruiser and ran hot all the way to the Phillips farm.
His phone was still connected to his mother’s call, and he could still hear her screaming, but as he drove the sound became fainter, and then finally it stopped. Even though he kept yelling in the phone for her to pick up, he got nothing.
He was worse than worried. He’d never heard her like that. And even more upsetting, he was going to have to contact the only woman he’d ever loved and tell her that her father was dead. This day just kept getting worse.
Ten minutes later he arrived at the Phillips farm to find his mother in the fetal position next to her car, her hands over her head as if trying to ward off a blow. He knew what she’d seen was shocking, but this reaction was not like the woman he knew. He got out on the run, then scooped her up into his arms and sat her on the hood of her car.
“Mom! Talk to me. Are you okay?”
She was limp, her eyes wide and fixed, and when he spoke, she didn’t respond. He shook her, then put his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
“Mom, Momma, it’s me, Trey. I’m here. I need you to talk to me now.”
He felt her shudder, then take a slow, deep breath. Relief washed over him when her arms snaked around his neck. She was back.
“Mom?”
She pointed toward the barn.
“He’s in there,” she said. “I saw him. Why would he do that? Oh, my God, why would he do that?”
He could hear Earl’s siren.
“I don’t know, but I need you to wait here. Since you’re the one who found the body, you can’t leave. The sheriff will want to talk to you.”
She blinked. “I need to go home. Tomorrow is your birthday. I wanted to bake—”
“Hey, Momma, you know I love you, right?”
She nodded.
“So don’t worry about a cake, okay?”
She clutched the front of his shirt in panic.
She almost looked like a stranger to him.
“Okay, Mom? You have to stay here, understand?”
“Yes. No cake. Stay here.” Then her face crumpled as a fresh set of tears began to roll. “Poor Dick. My heart hurts for him.”
Trey sighed. “I know, but here’s the deal. No need to hurt for him. He’s past concern. You need to be feeling sorry for Dallas. She’s the one who’s been left to suffer.”
And just like that, the mother in Betsy stepped in.
“Oh, Lord, Dallas. I didn’t even think.”
Trey turned around, wondering what had taken Earl so long, and how much of the crime scene his mother might have disturbed.
“Here comes Earl. We’re going down to the barn, and I need you to stay here, remember?”
“Yes, of course I remember,” she said shortly, and combed her hands through her hair. The hysteria was gone, and she was digging out a tissue to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.
“I need to ask you something,” he said.
“Ask.”
“Did you drive your car down to the barn?”
“No. I was heading toward the trees, looking for him, when I passed and saw him. I didn’t even go all the way in.”
“Okay, good,” Trey said, and then added, “Oh, don’t call anyone. I don’t want any locals out here in the middle of this investigation.”
“I won’t. I understand,” she said, and then slid off the hood, stumbled up to the house and sat down on the porch in the shade.
Trey frowned. He should have told her to go wait in the car, but it was too late now.
“Hey, Mom, don’t go in the house, just stay on the porch. I don’t want anything else disturbed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” she said.
“It’s my fault. Just don’t go any farther,” he said.
She
