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it’s official enough to drag her out of her sickbed. Maybe you can help me out, Rudd. Considering how fast news travels around here, I’m assuming you know that Aaron Scott showed up in town yesterday?”
    “Yeah, we heard.” Uncle Rudd’s thick eyebrows knitted together. “But it’s not likely we’d invite that little troll overfor a nice chat over Sunday dinner.”
    “Wouldn’t expect you to.” Otis chuckled. “My questions concern a phone call I got last night.”
    Otis suddenly stopped talking and sat there slouching in his chair like the urge to contemplate the mysteries of the universe had just overtaken him. I wondered if he used that “suddenly silent” technique on any of the criminals he arrested. I know I felt compelled to fill in the silence with everything I knew. It was only the fear of being thrown out of the family that kept me quiet.
    Uncle Rudd got up and poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back down. “Now, Otis, you gonna tell us about this phone call, or is this one of those things you ain’t allowed to talk about?”
    “Guess it won’t hurt none to say.” Otis shrugged. “Around nine o’clock I received one of those anonymous phone calls, you know, where the person disguises their voice. The caller said that I should hurry down to the Red Carnations Flower Shop because there would likely be some fireworks between Connie and Aaron. Then the caller hung up. I don’t put a lot of stock in those kind of calls, but I thought maybe Connie might still be of a mind to throw a flowerpot or two at old Aaron, so I headed out to the flower shop.”
    Otis stopped talking again. They must teach that stuff in some kind of sheriff’s seminar. The suspense was almost too much for me. I could feel the tic near my left eye start to thump. I had no idea what time Uncle Rudd found AuntConnie and Aaron, but Otis must have just missed them. Otherwise all of them would be in jail by now, and I would be scraping up bail money. It also hit me that whoever murdered Aaron had called Otis to try and frame Aunt Connie. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. For the first time since Uncle Rudd called, I began to entertain the idea that he was right about going after the killer ourselves. Of course, I have entertained bad ideas before.
    Uncle Rudd shook his head slowly. “I reckon it was just some joker trying to cause a little trouble. But I can honestly say that Connie didn’t throw any flowerpots at Aaron. No, sir, somewhere between nine and nine thirty last night we were heading home with her. We must’ve just missed you.”
    “Naw,” Otis drawled, “we missed each other by quite a bit, since I never made it to Connie’s place. I was on my way, when I came up on an accident. Old Dennis Reager had a row with his wife last night and was heading out to stay at his brother’s trailer until Rosa May cooled down. He forgot we put a stop sign up on Lincoln Street not too long ago. Truman Spencer was behind Ed Baringer at the stop sign, when Dennis smacked right into Truman’s new SUV, forcing Truman to smack into Baringer’s truck. No one was really hurt, unless you count the swollen lip old Truman got from Dennis throwing a punch at him.”
    “Is that a fact?” Uncle Rudd grinned.
    “Yeah, it was somethin’ all right.” Otis grinned back. “By the time I got there, Truman was fit to be tied. He startedpokin’ his finger on Dennis’s chest and threatening to sue him. Told Dennis he’d own that new tractor of his. ‘Course, you know Dennis, he’s more partial to farm machinery than he is to Rosa May, so he just up and let Spencer have it right in the kisser.”
    Uncle Rudd chuckled. “You know as well as I do Truman has always had a big mouth.”
    “Suppose so. Anyway, I didn’t get through settling them down and filling out all the paperwork till near eleven that night. I figured if there was any trouble between Connie and Aaron, I would’ve heard about it by then, so I just