Habeas Corpus

Evidence is in the eye of the beholder

…continued from yesterday. Three hours earlier

KAREN AND GEORGIA didn’t want to do a live show in Butte Fork, Texas, but they couldn’t ignore their fans’ petitions. Every woman in Butte Fork — 240 of them — and thousands of women who relished the irony of Karen and Georgia appearing in a town with the billboard: “Butte Fork. Where the little ladies let their men support them.”

The petition by the women’s husbands to keep My Favorite Murder’s liberal male bashing out of Butte Fork had sealed the deal.

Despite their producer Steven’s warning that Butte Fork might not be the best venue, they booked the gig, not realizing they’d face a real-time home town murder.

During their show.

Not only during the show, but just outside the stage door entrance where Karen and Georgia’s cab would collect them. And, it turned out, two-thirds of the Butte Fork police force — the sheriff and his night deputy. They hadn’t cordoned off the body, hadn’t secured the scene for evidence, or even done any investigating. Instead, they were leaning against the deputy’s patrol car when Karen and Georgia stepped into the alley.

Despite their producer Steven’s warning that Butte Fork might not be the best venue, they booked the gig, not realizing they’d face a real-time home town murder.

Karen and Georgia had no problem telling which was the deputy’s car and which was the sheriff’s. The sheriff’s had his name — Billy Bob Broncomeister — painted around the star on the door and longhornsmounted on the hood.

“Why do they call it Butte Fork when there are no buttes and no fork between them?” Karen had asked as they opened the doors, and Georgia had replied, “I think it refers to the crack in all the men’s asses because their guns pull their pants too…”

She never finished her sentence because the two policemen approached them, and announced they were under arrest for murder. Georgia yanked away. “Really? On what evidence?”

Karen gripped Georgia’s arm to make sure she didn’t add resisting arrest to the charges.

Georgia never finished her sentence because the two policemen approached them, and announced they were under arrest for murder.

The sheriff ground his jaw back and forth as though gnawing on shoe leather. Then he grinned and spat a gob of tobacco juice all over the Jimmy Choos Karen got Georgia for her birthday after Georgia’s husband Vince didn’t get the hint. The sheriff nodded his head, as though struggling to find a thought, then he grinned. “We’ll we don’t know him, and we don’t know you and y’all three’re in the same alley.”

As the deputy loaded them into the back of his squad car, Karen leaned toward Georgia and whispered, “Gee Toto, I guess we’re not in LA anymore.”

continued tomorrow…

The characters in this story are fictional and not to be confused with real persons named Karen and Georgia, alive or dead.