Drop Dead Sexy(68)

“He finally decided on Taylorsville as the place he could restart his life. Thankfully, Ronald was so hell-bent on taking revenge on Randy himself that he never put a hit on Randy. He was also so embarrassed by what happened that he didn’t tell too many people how he lost his pecker. He led a lot of people to believe he got it shot off in combat during the first Gulf War.”

“Ugh, what a slime-ball to pretend to be a wounded veteran,” I remarked.

Olive sighed sadly. “Although he was supposed to be in for life, I guess ol’ Ronald musta got out of the big house and finally found poor Randy.”

Catcher and I both sat in a stupefied silence, overwhelmed by what all we had just heard. The main question in any murder investigation was motive. You needed a reason to kill. In many cases, it’s revenge. Sometimes it’s revenge for an affair or revenge for ruining a person’s business.

And now we knew that revenge was the motive in Randy’s case. Revenge for a man’s penis being blown up after taking a homemade male enhancement drug. Although I didn’t have all the facts and statistics, I was pretty sure that in the annals of legal history, there had not been another case prosecuted over an exploding penis. Yet here we were.

After everything we had been through, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Yet, I was completely bamboozled. I really don’t know who I thought would be Randy’s killer, but a penis-less member of the Dixie Mafia hadn’t even been on my radar.

Olive rose out of her chair. “You two look like you could use a drink. I’ve got a little White Lightning up at my work shed.”

I held up a hand. “That’s awfully kind, but I wouldn’t care for any.”

When Olive turned to Catcher, he shook his head. “I appreciate it, Mrs. Thornhill, but I’m not permitted when I’m on the clock.” He stood up. “I would love to take a look at your work shed though.”

With a flick of her wrist, she motioned us to follow her. I wasn’t too keen on seeing inside her work shed, but I didn’t think I had much of a choice. So, I got up off the couch and followed her and Catcher out the back door of the cabin. Olive grabbed a cane that was leaning against the porch railing before hobbling down the stairs.

Once again I was amazed that someone her age and in her physical condition could make it up the steep embankment behind her cabin. But she did. The work shed was actually a one-room cabin that I’m surprised hadn’t been condemned.

The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. The sawdust-covered floor didn’t look like it had been swept in years. At least one corner of the room was well kept. It had floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves that overflowed with small bottles and fruit jars.

“You two got any stomach ailments? Don’t sleep? Need energy?” Olive asked.

I could have used something to sleep better, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. I wasn’t quite sure if I believed in the validity of Olive’s powers. More than anything, I wasn’t convinced her yarbs weren’t toxic.

As Catcher was eyeing the concoctions on the shelves, Olive picked up a small, blue bottle with a corked lid and handed it to me. “But I—”

“You don’t get enough sleep.”

“How did you know that?” Catcher asked.

“Probably from the bags under my eyes,” I suggested.

Olive harrumphed at me. “I know from what you were thinking.”

The hairs at the back of my neck rose at her words. “You can read my mind?”

Shaking her head, Olive replied, “I can feel your thoughts.”

Aaaand, things had officially gotten too weird for me. It was time to get the hell out of there. I waved the bottle at her. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

“I can’t just take this.”

“Yes. You can.” She jutted her chin out. “My payment will come when you realize the power of hoodoo.”

Yep. Definitely time to go. “Well, thank you.” I turned to Catcher. “Agent Mains, I need to make a phone call. I’ll be in the car.”

His forehead lined with confusion, but I didn’t stop to explain anything. I just powerwalked right out of that hellhole before sprinting to the car. When I got inside, I locked the door. With one fleeting glance at Olive’s yarb, I tossed it into my purse. Although I wanted to chuck it out the window the first chance we got, the curious part of me wanted to give it a try.

Thankfully, Catcher wasn’t far behind me. He had his phone in his hand, and I could hear the conversation inside the car. “Yeah, it’s Mains. I need you guys to run a check on a man named Ronald Krump. He had been doing time, so you might want to start with the prison records. Thanks.”

After Catcher hung up, he opened the car door and slid inside. “Now it’s time to hunt down our suspect.”

“At least finding out a name was one good thing to come out of this trip,” I grumbled.

“Miss Olive spooked you a little, didn’t she?” Catcher asked as we started down the hill.

I turned in my seat to pin him with a stare. “You mean you weren’t freaked out with all the hoodoo craziness?”

Catcher chuckled. “I’ll admit it was a little freaky, but whatever power she has, Olive uses for good.”

Wanting a subject change, I asked, “Now the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, can you tell me why you were investigating the Dixie Mafia?”