Gone to Ground by Brandilyn Collins Page B

area. Before Cotter's arrival, his son, John, was already an established officer on the town's five-man force, and thereby protected via the escape clause in the state's nepotism law. Adam Cotter could not have hired his own son, but since that son preceded his arrival to the force, they can now work together hand-in-hand. Or fist-in-fist, as some in the town claim. The three other officers, Orin Wade, Ted Arnoldson, and Chris Dedmon, together total 29 years of serving as Amaryllis's finest. Wade and Dedmon are African-American, the two-to-three ratio a little under the town's demographics, which run almost an even fifty-fifty between whites and blacks.
    Since the Closet Killings began, opinion on the effectiveness of the town's police has also split down the middle, although not along racial lines. Some Amaryllis citizens will tell you their law enforcement is doing all it can to solve a string of murders with little to no evidence. Others will point to the chief's ego as the main stumbling block to finding a suspect. Their view is based on one indisputable fact: the chief has refused to ask for outside help from the Mississippi State Police, who have more equipment, manpower, and training.
    Here, too, the historical tenacity and separateness of Amaryllis plays a part. In the past the town's citizens wouldn't have wanted the rest of the world "barging in and telling us what to do," as one business owner put it. Chief Cotter, along with his close friend Austin Bradmeyer, owner of Bradmeyer Plastics and mayor for fifteen years, have enjoyed free rein to run the town as they see fit. But the desire for separation has begun to slip. Talk to people on Main Street today, and you're likely to hear folks question why national media hasn't paid more attention to the serial killings in their tiny town. "You can turn on a cable news channel and watch 'em run video of some fight on a school bus," said Curtis Paltrow, owner of the town's only gas station. "But they're not interested in five people dead?"
    As for Chief Cotter's investigation, talk to anyone in law enforcement, and in their honest moments they'll admit egos abound in the field. Each jurisdiction has their own way of doing things. One doesn't want the other "butting in." Chief Cotter points to his own years of investigative experience and the paucity of evidence in the Closet Killings, and says, "What do you expect the State Police to do that we haven't done? We've collected every piece of evidence there is—and that hasn't been much. We've canvassed every street numerous times. We have the files; we know the details. They don't. Plus, the State Police don't know our people, our town. They aren't equipped to handle this case as well as we are."
    And some whisper, "They couldn't handle it any worse."

Chapter 17
Cherrie Mae

    The Scotts' phone rang as I stood on my stool to dust the top a their bookcase in the front room. Two more minutes, and I'd be done with another work week, thank the good Lord. A tangy smell cut the air. Laverlle Scott did love her Lemon Pledge.
    It would be another half hour before Laverlle got home from her job at the bank. And Tony Scott would be busy for hours at his work in Bay Springs. The Scotts was one a my three black families in town. Ever week I let myself into their house with my own key. My check always waited for me in the big bowl on the counter, on top a the bananas.
    The phone rang a second and third time before the answer machine come on. I heard Tony's voice greet the caller, then a long beep.
    "Oh, Laverlle, I forgot you ain't home yet." The wispy voice of Laverlle's mother, Trixie, come from the machine. "I wondered if you heard bout Stevie Ruckland bein arrested for Erika's murder."
    I dropped my dust rag.
    "This time I hear the po lice say they got some good evidence. They'll probly end up chargin him with all the murders."
    My tired feet hopped me off the stool and into the kitchen.
    "And tonight they's—"
    I snatched up