~ Finding Elmer Lee ~
by
Ben Douglas
“Are you Detective Lieutenant Lanny Boone?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. What can I do for you?”
“I want you to find my husband and shoot him.”
She stood an even six feet, I’d guess, and with her three-inch heels she had an inch on me. She had broad shoulders and muscular arms and calves, would weigh in at about one ninety. I had her by about twenty pounds. Mine’s all muscle, too, or at least that’s what I tell my girlfriend. Still, I’d hesitate to climb into the ring with her and I’d fought some pretty good light heavyweights during my days in the army and my Golden Gloves days.
“Ma’am?”
“I said I want you to find my husband and shoot him.”
She was an attractive woman, mid-forties, with curves in all the right places. Her short, straw-colored hair, carefully applied makeup and smooth, evenly tanned skin gave her a sex appeal that would cause a man to look twice.
“Yes, ma’am, I heard what you said.” I pointed toward one of the empty chairs in front of my desk and invited her to sit. She did. “But we don’t ordinarily shoot husbands on request. If we did we’d probably have to increase the size of our police force to accommodate all the requests.”
“That’s funny.”
“I thought so.”
“Captain said you’d help.” She folded her arms across her ample bosoms.
“He did? What exactly did the captain say?”
“He said you’re a pain in the butt but you get things done.”
“The captain is one of my biggest fans.”
“So are you going to help me?”
“If it’s truly a case of a missing person, we’ll do what we can to find the person that’s missing.”
She looked at me as if she pitied me because I couldn’t understand her request. “He’s gone, disappeared, vamoosed. What else can I say? I know he’s off somewhere doing God knows what, or else he’s turned up at the wrong place at the wrong time and gotten himself killed. I’m so mad at him right now that I could find him and shoot him myself but that would be illegal. You can legally shoot him.”
“Not without a reason.”
“You have plenty of reason. Says so in the Bible.”
I believed she wanted her husband found but I really didn’t think she wanted me to shoot him, or did she? She certainly seemed angry enough to do him harm, but kill him? You never know. “The Bible?”
“Yes, the Bible. First Timothy, chapter five, verse eight says, ‘But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.’ Now, do you know anybody needs shooting more than an infidel does?”
I decided not to answer her question directly. “I’ll have to look that up in our policies and procedures manual... So he’s not providing for you?”
That look again, like I just didn’t get it.
“No, he’s not providing for me. How could he? He’s gone. Been gone two weeks. Didn’t leave me a dime. Hasn’t sent me a dime. Like I said, he’s off doing God knows what, else he’s gotten himself killed.”
“You suspect foul play then?”
“Foul Play? You mean like being kidnapped, or robbed or something? Maybe. He took off on his own. He’s doing some foul things all right, may the Lord forgive him, but if he’s met with foul play, I haven’t heard about it. If he’s off spending our money, he’s going to meet with foul play when I get my hands on him.”
“Spending your money?”
“Is there an echo in here? Yes, spending our money. And he has plenty. Got hurt working on an offshore oil rig. That’s what he used to do. Got a big settlement for that. Got some timber money.”
“Timber money?”
“There’s that echo again. Yes, timber money. His parents worked all their lives to buy land. They raised pine trees. You have any idea how much money a thousand acres of pine will bring?”
I decided not to repeat, “A thousand acres?” Instead, I shook my head.
“A lot, that’s how much and they split it two ways. Parents kept half, gave their darling only son half. Top of that, they recently leased the land to an oil company for the drilling rights. Split that money, too.”
“Your husband is an only child?”
“Guess they decided one like him was enough. You going to help me find him?”