"Caesar?" Puzzled, I looked over at Phyllis Raynor, who was clerking for me. "I thought the complainant's name was Jasper Something."
"No, no," said the defendant. "Caesar. Like in 'Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's.' Worldly stuff. The laws of man. That's what Jesus wants straight."
Laughter rippled along the attorneys' bench.
"Any other worldly charges against you scattered around the country?"
"No, ma'am, Your Honor. I had a policeman friend run me through his computers."
"Very well," I said. "Since Jesus has done a better job with you than jail ever did, I'll vacate this warrant. Go and sin no more."
He was followed by an elderly man and the man's even more elderly neighbor, two old white men who'd been feuding for thirty-five years from the testimony I heard. The first accused the second of killing his dog. No, he hadn't seen the act; no, the dog's body hadn't been found; but the accused had threatened the dog's life and now the dog was gone. And yes, ma'am, he'd agree that dog might've barked a lot, "but King was a pure-out scairdy cat and he'd never leave the yard on his own, so what else could've happened to him?"
Even though he brought along a second neighbor to witness the accused's threats, the witness hadn't seen or heard anything except threats either.
I had a feeling that the only reason the DA had calendared the case was because the complainant was his wife's uncle and he was tired of trying to explain probable cause to the stubborn old coot. Let me do his dirty work.
"Sorry," I said, "but until you get more proof, I have to rule no grounds for complaint." * * *
The waiting room at Chapel Hill's North Carolina Memorial Hospital looked and smelled like a family reunion without the laughter when I got there that evening.
Daddy wasn't there, but all my local brothers and their families were. Most of my sisters-in-law held public jobs these days, but the habit of comforting with food was so strong that they'd all brought along buckets of take-out chicken and bottles of soft drinks to supplement the waiting room's coffee urn.
Herman and Nadine's other two children, Edward and Denise, had come in early this morning.
"They let us see him twice," said Nadine. "But he's so groggy I don't know if he knew it was us." She looked haggard after a night on the hospital couch and Annie Sue was trying to persuade her to go lie down a few hours in one of the motel rooms various family members had rented.
"It's not going to do Dad a bit of good if you wind up in the hospital, too!" she declaimed. "I'll come get you the minute there's any change. And you don't have to worry about me. Paige says she'll stay over and keep me company. You've just got to lie down."
"We'll see," was all Nadine would say. "Settle down, child."
The bruises had come up good on Annie Sue's face and arms, but the scrape was healing properly. Except for worrying over Herman and Nadine, she seemed almost back to normal. Of course, dramatic worry was natural for Annie Sue, especially with someone as solicitous as Paige Byrd to hover and worry with her and hold her hand. I was surprised not to see the third member of their trio.
"Cindy's sister heard about what she was doing with Carver Bannerman," Annie Sue whispered, "and told Miss Gladys and Miss Gladys went nuclear! Thank the Lord for Paige! I couldn't stand it without her."
Paige turned bright red under her strawberry bangs, but I could see she was happy Annie Sue felt that way. * * *
As the evening wore on, some of those who'd come directly from work were replaced by those who'd come from home. Seth and Minnie drove over with Andrew and April, but they'd worked in tobacco all day and were physically drained. Too, they needed to get home early to check on their bulk barns. One of Andrew's was nearing the point where he needed to run up the heat to set the leaf's golden color, so they left before eight, just as Dwight Bryant and Terry Wilson arrived.
Both lawmen had been in and out of our lives so long, they felt like family, too.
The seriousness of Herman's condition preyed on us, but human nature always bubbles up at even the most solemn wakes, and conversation went from dark to light in looping circles.
Aunt Zell asked me about the pup, which led her to tell the others about Miss Sallie's missing beagle, her strayed Goldie, and Alice Castleberry's registered bull terrier. I told her about the dog feud I'd had in court that morning, and we debated the possible reappearance in Dobbs of the dogman.
Reese's girlfriend ignored the fact that most of the family didn't approve of her and talked about the time her cat got inside a friend's van and went home with them. That put Terry in mind of his second wife's cat.
"Big old gray fuzzball," he told us. "Every time I'd leave the car window down, the dang cat would crawl inside to sleep. Cat hairs everywhere. And of course she said if I'd keep the windows closed, the cat wouldn't get in. She was just scared that someday I'd drive off with the thing and lock it inside and it'd suffocate to death. Reckon you could see how me and that cat ranked in her affections."
My brothers grinned and Will's Amy asked with great innocence, "Well, Terry sugar, which one of you was most faithful?"
He gave her a mock scowl and continued. "So this one day, I came out in a hurry, jumped in my car and ran down to the grocery store for a jug of milk. When I was coming back across the parking lot, I saw something under my car—that big old gray fuzzball. And yeah, I'd left my windows down again. First off, I thought I'd just drive away and leave it there and act dumb whenever she missed the stupid thing; but being an upright righteous husband—"
"Yeah, sure!" everyone hooted.
"—I decided I'd better try to catch him. Now that cat and me, we never did get along too good, and I called till I was purple before he came out from under my car. Then I had to chase him all over the parking lot and when I finally grabbed him, he gave me such a scratch it dripped blood all the way home. But I'm a special agent for the SBI, right? And he was just a dumb old cat, right? So I did eventually throw him in the car and off we set. He stomped back and forth on the backseat and snarled at me the whole way home. Well, we get home and I pull into the driveway and there's the real old fuzzball sound asleep on the roof of my wife's car."
Before he could tell us what he did with the feline doppelganger, a white-coated doctor appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Knott?" he asked. "Mrs. Herman Knott?"
Instinctively, we fell silent and clustered around Nadine.
"We've confirmed the cause of your husband's condition," he said briskly. "It isn't his heart or a stroke."
"Then what?" asked Nadine.
"Chronic poisoning," said the doctor. "Somehow or other, your husband's ingested a good deal of arsenic over the past week or so."
CHAPTER 14
SAFETY RULES
"The posted or promulgated rules for the safe operation of all power equipment must be strictly followed, unless an unavoidable suspension of a rule is authorized by proper authority. The suspension must end as soon as the necessity for it has passed."
"Arsenic?"
The word ran around the room and bounced off the ceiling.
Nadine seemed bewildered. "Where would he get arsenic?"
The doctor flipped to Herman's admittance chart. "His occupation is listed as an electrician. Is he also engaged in farming where he might handle insecticides or other poisonous chemicals?"
Nadine shook her head. "Sometimes he has to crawl up under old houses where they've put out rat poison. Maybe—"