In Hell: When Love Kills A Small Town Mystery

Chapter 1

 The sound shattered the festive atmosphere, causing Cash Matstock to jump out of his skin and then laugh hysterically. Dixie dropped to the floor of the stage on her hands and knees. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes bulging with fear. Seeing the grand dame fall, several others in the crowd flattened out, too. Screams were heard. Shouts were uttered. Panic descended upon the crowd. Nobody knew where to run or where to hide. It was a blur of uncoordinated movement and mayhem. Sheriff Brand drew his service revolver, brandishing it left and right. It was impossible to know where the sound originated. His face was pale, his eyes wide, his senses on overload, but no target was registering. Babies were squalling, and for a sickening few seconds, it seemed Doomsday had arrived.

Seconds before, Life seemed normal.

Main Street was a hum of happy chatter and people milling about. The high school band was playing, only slightly out of tune, and the sheriff was shaking hands like a man running for President. The air was electric. There was cause for celebration. Dixie Ashlon was making a rare appearance.

Right on cue, she stepped onto the makeshift platform. Like a silver sequin, her white hair caught shimmering glints of the sunshine. Her simple, elegantly expensive dress accentuated the still graceful lines of her slim body. Confidence exuded from every pore of her body. She stood on the podium, smiling and waving to the crowd. The donation she'd given to spruce up the small library on Main Street was cause for celebration. She could afford it, they said. And filthy lucre was like expensive perfume where Dixie was concerned. She wore both well.

Her sharp vision scanned the crowd. There were many faces she recognized, nodding slightly to acknowledge one here or another there. The people staring back at her lapped up her attention like dogs at a creek in a drought.

The liberal amount of makeup she used created the illusion that she was still one of the most beautiful women in five counties – if the light hit her face at just the right angle. But who cared? The townsfolk surely didn't. Dixie was made for these occasions. Why hadn't she gone to Hollywood and made her mark, they wondered?

But everyone knew why.

Dixie moved closer to the microphone, tilting her head enough so the light made that shadowy little butterfly show up under her nose. Her movements were deliberate and sure. The crowd watched intently. This was the belle they remembered. Haughty. Deserving. And tough as nails.

She tapped the microphone, jumping back with a weak smile on her face at the loudness of the sound she'd produced. Her cheeks colored, but she quickly regained her composure. The townsfolk responded to her cues, stopping in mid-sentence to hear what she had to say. Everyone nudged a bit closer. It had been a long time since their queen had ventured from the estate. She opened her mouth to speak and calamity struck.

Cash got out of his battered pickup and slammed the door with such force that many wondered if he'd shattered the hinges on his rusty heap. His eyes glittered. His white teeth sparkled. His blonde hair caught the wind and glistened in the sun. He was laughing hysterically.

"What the hell's the matter with you? It's just a backfire," Cash said. "Holster your gun, Sheriff, before you shoot somebody! You'd think I was Jesse James riding in to shoot up the town and rob the bank! Do I look like somebody stupid enough to risk serious jail time for fifty cents?"

His laughter sounded like pork fat slipping into a blazing fire. He had made a fool of them all. Faces were scarlet. Frowns and scoffs and muffled words filtered throughout the crowd. Low curses were muttered.

Suddenly, the throng parted, and a balding, overweight young man barreled through. Leland Lassiter lumbered like an angry bull, charging Cash and swung blindly. Cash dipped to one side and flicked a hard left, and Lassiter dropped to the ground with a hard thud. He awkwardly rolled over, sat with his legs spread before him, and wiped at his face with the back of his hand. Through thick lenses, Lassiter glared up at the handsome, young man who was still laughing.

"That's assault, Cash Matstock! You hit me! You mark my words, I'm gonna file a complaint! I will! I'll have your butt in court!" Lassiter said as his nose bled profusely.

For an instant, it looked like Cash would spit on the pudgy man on the ground.

"No, you won't," said Cash, grinning. "You charged me and swung first. I was only defending myself. Everybody saw it. Even Miss Dixie."

"Cash Matstock! Have you lost your mind? What do you think you're doing? Imbeciles like you should be throttled at birth!" Dixie said, sitting indignantly on the stage. "You aren't fit to be seen in decent company. Did they just release you from the zoo? Noble. Do your job! Restore order immediately!"

"Somebody give the old gal a hand up, will ya?" Cash said. "You look ridiculous, Miss Dixie. Nobody will take you seriously while you're sitting on her ass. I wish I had a picture of you, by the way, Miss Dixie."

"Allow me," an elderly gentleman said.

He smiled, gallantly extending a knotty hand to Dixie.

"Than ..."

Dixie turned to the man. A dark cloud passed over her face. She frowned, slapping the offered hand away with unnecessary force.

"Nonsense," she said. "Keep your grimy hand to yourself! I certainly don't need it. I am perfectly able to get up on my own. What do I look like to you – a feeble, slobbering invalid who's ready for the nursing home? Stupid cretin. Leave me alone! I didn't ask for your help, and I certainly don't want it!"

The old man's jaw dropped, but only for an instant. He looked at Dixie, his half-lidded black irises burning with rage. Suddenly, the corners of his mouth curled into an angelic smile. The dark veil that shadowed his brow lifted. His hand dropped to his side.

"As you wish," he said, bowing his head and tipping his soft flat hat. He walked away, disappearing into the sea of townsfolk.

Dixie impatiently brushed at the dirt smudges on her coat.

"Such impertinence!"

Cash Matstock was flashing his most charming smile.

"I ought to arrest you for breathing," said the Sheriff.

"You ought soak your fat ..."

"Hey," Leland said, "watch your mouth. There are ladies here."

"Ladies?" Cash's eyes scanned the crowd. "You use the term loosely, don't you, Leland?"

"Do us all a favor, Cash, and go get drunk," Leland said, holding a blood-stained hankie to his nose.

"A great idea," said Cash. "See you later, Bud."

Cash was still laughing when he got back in his truck. He knew all eyes were on him, so he tried to act like he didn't have a care in the world. For a sick, sinking second, he felt a wave of nauseous heat flow over his body. After the show he'd just given, he hoped like everything his old junker would crank. If it didn't, he'd be the one everyone was laughing at. He turned the key. The engine caught, and he revved the motor.

"Later," he said, spinning his bald tires and taking off as fast as the pickup would manage.

Leland was right about one thing, Cash thought, He needed a drink. Bad. He thought about swinging by the shack he shared with his elderly uncle and grabbing a swig from one of Clifford's bottles he kept hidden about the place but decided it wasn't worth the hassle. Clifford was one mean bastard sober, but at this hour of the day, the old man was sure to be drunk. It was early in the morning, but it was late enough in the day for Clifford to be well on his way to wasted. Clifford, like his nephew, liked to get an early start on the things that really mattered. No, Cash thought, he'd skip the drive home. A waste of time and gas. He decided to head over to Mickey's instead.

"You should have arrested him," said Dixie Ashlon.

"On what charge?"

"How should I know? You're the sheriff. Disturbing the peace. Making me look like a fool. Anything that would get that head lice off the street. I'm sure you could think of something."

"I already have," said Sheriff Noble Brand. "I'm giving the boy just enough rope. He'll hang himself with it. You'll see."