Distinguished Bumpkin

by Sam Cheever

  Ice crawled through my chest. “Maybe he was there for someone else.”

  “It’s possible, I guess. But he arrived when you did.” I could picture her shrugging, her tone filled with doubt. “It might be nothing, but I just wanted to tell you to be careful.”

  Given that she was the second person in moments to warn me, I was starting to think it was a good idea.

  “What did the car look like?”

  “Small, white. Kind of a clunker. I didn’t recognize it.”

  The ice in my chest thickened, making it hard to breathe. “Was there a sticker on the back bumper? It would have been half torn off, but there was a silver swirl and the word Success still visible?”

  “I couldn’t read the sticker, but I noticed it as headlights from the passing cars flashed over it. The silver glowed in the light. I know that sticker. I remember it from when Mayor Robb was campaigning. If I remember right, the slogan was, Safety, Security…”

  “Success,” I finished for her. Of course! The swirl I’d envisioned wasn’t a swirl at all. It was kind of an artsy-fartsy representation of a mystical Deer Hollow that existed only in the new mayor’s strange mind. When I’d first seen that logo, I’d thought it looked more like Indianapolis than Deer Hollow. Hal and I had speculated that Robb hadn’t bothered to invest in a new emblem but had just used the logo he’d created when he ran for Indy city council.

  I dropped my face into my hands. “I’m being stalked by one of Mayor Robb’s fanboys?”

  Lis laughed at my characterization. “Not necessarily.” The smile in her voice slid away. “The thing is, I think I’ve seen the driver before.”

  “Where?”

  “Do you remember when you got that phantom call from the guy who took Hal’s phone in the Bend Over and Coffee?”

  The Bend Over and Coffee was a new shop in town, owned by the wife of a proctologist. The place was wildly popular because of its funny name, great coffee, and excellent pastries.

  I thought about that guy. Arno had described him as around thirty, five eleven-ish, kind of wiry with wavy, reddish-brown hair. “Coffee house guy,” I said, frowning. “But you never saw him, did you?”

  “I didn’t.” There was a long silence. “But the description stuck with me because it was as if he was describing somebody I’d known all my life.”

  “Who?” I was getting excited. Maybe we knew the killer. Maybe we could put a pin in the investigation, and Hal could prove once again how valuable an asset he was to the sheriff’s department.

  “Joey, I can’t believe you haven’t put the pieces together. It was someone you’ve known all your life too.”

  I was tired and just wanted to go to bed. But Lis’s information was important. Still, I wasn’t in the mood to be scolded. I might have been a little curt in my response to my bestie. “How would I recognize a description of some random dude I’ve never met?”

  “Because it describes your father perfectly,” she said in a soft, achingly kind voice. “And the guy I saw in that car looked enough like your dad to be related.”

  I was suddenly cold, as if the temperature in the room had plummeted. My knees gave out and dropped me to the steps leading to the second floor. In that moment, I wasn’t sure I’d even have the strength to make it upstairs. “It was my dad?”

  “No, Joey. I’m sorry. I don’t want to give you false hope. This guy was much too young to be your dad. But, Joe, he could easily be your brother.”

  “I have a brother?” My voice was small, pathetic. “That’s not possible. My mother would have told me.”

  “Maybe he’s a cousin or something. Maybe he’s your dad’s younger doppelganger. I…” She sighed. “I hope I didn’t just make a terrible mistake. But I thought you should know.”

  “No, you were right to tell me. I’m sure he’s not related. But it sounds like he’s involved in this case somehow.”

  “Okay.” She sounded relieved. “I’ll let you get to bed. Talk soon?”

  “Of course.” I hung up and sat there, staring toward the front door with my thoughts simmering. A brother? I rolled the idea over in my mind for a few minutes and realized I wouldn’t mind it at all. Not one little bit.

  When I realized I was smiling, I shook it off. “I don’t have a brother,” I scolded myself. But I might have a suspect. Heading up the stairs to my room, I thought again about calling Hal. Again, I decided against it. He was coming to breakfast. I’d tell him then.

  And with that happy thought, I quickly got ready for bed and slipped beneath the cool, smooth sheets. Caphy jumped up and sprawled across her usual spot at the bottom of the bed. LaLee was already asleep on my extra pillow, belly up and long legs sticking into the air.

  I grinned at her, gave her irresistible tummy a scratch, and then took a deep breath, settling down to sleep.

  13

  “Thanks for breakfast,” I told my PI.

  He grinned. “It was my pleasure. I’m sorry you didn’t get more of it.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Why don’t any of the little rats beg food from you?”

  Caphy shifted on the back seat of the car and grinned at me, tongue lolling. Her muscular tail beat an excited rhythm against the back of the seat.

  Hal glanced at her sweet face in the rearview mirror, his lips twitching. “They know I won’t give it to them.” He said it smugly, punctuating it with a slight tilt upward of his strong chin. I fought a grin, not wanting to burst his smug bubble. Hal liked to think of himself as the disciplinarian of the two of us. But he was just a big softie at heart.

  I’d seen him sneaking bites of egg to Ethel and Caphy before breakfast. And LaLee had been suspiciously friendly to him when he was putting things away in the fridge.

  Friendly, like she thought he was going to feed her. Or already had. The diva was never friendly to Hal unless she thought it would buy her something.

  “How are we going to know which maid to talk to?” I asked Hal as we neared the Fawn Hotel.

  “Work schedules,” he said. “There can’t be more than two or three maids working at a time in a place this size. One of them has to be our maid.”

  That made sense. We’d discussed it over breakfast, deciding that since both the sheriff and Tiffany had mentioned a maid around the time Pam Wickham was killed, it was an open switch we needed to close.

  “What do you think about the guy who might have been following us last night?” I asked the Greek deity.

  Hal frowned. “It’s an interesting development. Especially the car aspect. Whoever this guy is, he was at the scene of Prince’s attack too. That’s too much coincidence for me.”

  “Yeah, me too. He’s part of this mess. Somehow.” I thought about it. “Do you remember a server at Robb’s party that fits the description?”

  “Not really.” He thought about it for a beat and then selected Arno’s cell number from his recent call list. The cop answered after two rings. He sounded wary. “Amity.”

  “Hey,” Hal responded, his tone light.

  Caphy barked at the sound of Arno’s voice. She shoved her squishy head over the back of my seat and rested it on my shoulder.

  “Hi, Caphy. Joey.” Arno said, a smile in his voice.

  I frowned at the screen and said nothing. I was still peeved about Hal’s ouster.

  “I was wondering if you could get me a list and stats for the catering company’s servers at the party?” Hal said. “Photos would be good too.”

  There was a beat of silence before Arno cleared his throat. “I thought the sheriff spoke to you.”

  “He did.”

  Another pulse of silence. “Okay. I’ll forward those files to you.”

  “Great,” Hal said.

  “No problem. But, listen, Hal, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you…”

  “What files?” Hal said.

  “Right,” Arno sounded relieved. “Look, I’m sorry about…” he seemed to be struggling with the words. “I should have warned you.”

  �
��Mulhern told you to keep quiet and stay away from me, didn’t he?”

  “Well, yeah, but…”

  “Then it’s best if he knows you’re staying away from me. Except on a personal level. Right?”

  Arno expelled a relieved breath. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “Don’t think anything of it,” Hal said, a wicked grin on his face. “Just make sure you’re deaf, dumb, and blind when I continue to work this case.”

  Laughing, Arno said, “Are you on a cell phone? You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you. Gotta go.”

  Hal disconnected, and we sat in silence for a moment. Despite Hal’s easy acceptance of what had to feel a little like Arno’s betrayal, I was more than a little annoyed with my friend, the cop. Despite what Mulhern told Arno, he should have warned Hal what was coming.

  Hal reached over and squeezed my hand, his grip warm and comforting. “He had to do what he was told, honey.”

  I blew air through my lips, frowning.

  “It won’t help me if he gets fired.”

  “Mulhern wouldn’t fire Arno. If he did, he might have to do some actual work himself. That’ll never happen.”

  “He could always promote one of the other deputies.”

  “If he did, his solved case percentage would plummet, and he knows it. As annoying as he is, Arno’s a good cop. And he makes people feel safe. The others are either too new or don’t have the leadership experience.”

  “Schmidt could do it,” Hal said.

  I nodded. Deputy Kim Schmidt had only been at the sheriff’s office for a few months, but I was pretty sure she’d been a cop for several years. “Mulhern would never promote Schmidt.” It was sad but true. Mulhern didn’t respect women enough to give Schmidt that kind of power. “Besides, Sheppard’s been there longer than Schmidt.”

  Hal pulled into the parking lot of the Fawn Hotel and shot me a grin. I burst into laughter with him. Deputy Mark Sheppard was a micro-cop with a larger-than-life persona. Whoever coined the term, short man syndrome must have known Sheppard. At five feet four, I stood head to head with the man, and I was pretty sure my arms were bigger around than his legs. He was a decent cop, tenacious as all get-out, but he had enough weirdness in his personality to sink a small battleship. Or a small sheriff’s office.

  “Arno’s safe for now,” I told Hal. “Unless Mulhern brings in someone with rank from Indianapolis.”

  “Yeah, that’s always a possibility.”

  Hal parked near the office and we climbed out. I stretched the stiffness out of my body and closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the morning sun on my face and shoulders. The constant rush of the Fawn River was a familiar sound that would quickly become white noise if we stood outside for long.

  The hotel consisted of two levels, all exterior doors, with about twenty rooms on each level. Though it was early summer, none of the guesthouses in town were full. That would happen in a couple of months when the weather was hot, and Deer Hollow and the surrounding towns all had their festivals.

  A door opened on the second floor and a woman came out, her white cotton uniform immediately identifying her as one of our targets.

  Hal put his hand in the small of my back, and we headed for the nearby stairs. By the time we’d reached the top floor, the woman had gone back inside the room. The sound of vacuuming filled the air. A cart filled with clean towels, linens, and extra supplies waited near the wall to one side of the open door.

  Hal knocked on the door frame and stuck his head inside. “Hello?”

  The maid came out of the bathroom, holding a bundle of towels. “Sí?”

  I stepped through the door. “Hello. How are you?”

  The woman’s round face creased with worry.

  Hal held his credentials up so she could see them. “We’re investigating the death next door. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions?”

  The maid looked from Hal to me, her brown eyes going wide as she took in his PI credentials. That tag above her left breast said her name was Alda Rodriquez. Her warm brown skin paled, and she shook her head. “I not know.”

  At first, I thought she was proclaiming that she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer questions. But, as she backed away, her pretty brown eyes wide with terror, I realized the problem ran deeper than that.

  “Alda, my name is Joey. I promise we only want to know what you saw yesterday. Can you help us? A woman died, and we’re trying to find out why and who did it?”

  Alda stopped backtracking, but she still clutched the mound of towels against her belly like a shield. After another moment of indecision, she nodded. “Sí.”

  Hal smiled. “Thank you. Can you tell us who was in the room next door around noon yesterday?”

  Alda frowned again. I was starting to suspect we might have a language barrier.

  “She can’t tell you anything,” a cool female voice said from behind us. Hal and I turned around to find a woman striding toward us from the other end of the building. She wore her straight brown hair in a sharp, chin-length bob that wasn’t very flattering on her narrow face. Her chin was long and slightly pointed, her mouth a thin slash across the bottom of her face. She had a wide nose, which turned up slightly at the end.

  The most attractive thing about her were her eyes. They were golden brown, and the lashes surrounding them were thick and long.

  She offered Hal her hand as she reached us, her unsmiling countenance swinging from him to me. “I’m Victoria Lass, the manager of this hotel.”

  We introduced ourselves again, and Hal showed her his credentials.

  After examining the laminated badge, Ms. Lass turned to the maid. “Estas personas son amigas, Alda. Por favor, responda a sus preguntas.”

  The young maid blinked rapidly and then nodded, chewing her bottom lip.

  “What did you tell her?” I asked.

  “That you are friends, and she should answer your questions.” Her narrow lips curved in a self-deprecating smile. “My Spanish is only barely passable. But I can usually get the message across.”

  I found the “friends” comment odd. “Thank you.”

  Lass inclined her head. “When I told him about the murder, Garland told me you’d probably stop by.”

  Ahh. That explained it.

  Hal turned to the young maid again. “Can you tell us who was in the room yesterday around lunchtime?”

  Lass turned to Alda. “¿Quién estaba en la habitación cuando murió la mujer?”

  The girl shook her head. “No vi.”

  “She didn’t see anybody,” Victoria Lass translated.

  “Did she hear anything?” Hal asked.

  Victoria pointed to her ear. “¿Escuchaste algo?”

  “Sí!” Alda nodded vigorously. “Música.”

  “Did you see anyone leave the room after the music was turned off?” Hal asked the maid.

  We waited as Victoria translated the question and watched the girl frown, then give us a firm shake of the head.

  “You didn’t see the woman who was staying there leave?” I asked.

  After the translation of my question, Aldo shook her head again. Her gaze wouldn’t meet mine or Hal’s, and her posture was about as closed up as it could get.

  Victoria Lass sighed. “She’s afraid of something. But she says she didn’t see anybody leave.”

  “Is it possible the killer threatened her?” I asked.

  Victoria shrugged her bony shoulders. “It’s possible. Alda’s here on a work visa, but she lives in fear she’ll lose it. She doesn’t trust authority figures.”

  “Sheriff Mulhern was apparently here to check on the noise complaint.,” Hal said. “He spoke to a maid. Was there anybody else working yesterday who might have talked to him?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mr. Amity. Only a dozen of the rooms are currently in use. I don’t need more than one maid right now. Alda is on the schedule for all of this week.”

  “Is it possible she spoke to him and doesn’t want to tell us?”
>
  “Anything’s possible. She’s a sweet girl, but she is very timid. I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help.”

  “I’d like to see the feeds from your security cameras, please.”

  “Of course. Just stop by the office before you leave. What else can I help with?”

  “Can you let us into the victim’s room?”

  Without hesitation, Victoria pulled a coil of plastic off her slim wrist and handed it to him. The coil contained several access cards. “The silver one is a master. I’ll be in the office when you’re ready to view the security footage.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “My pleasure. I love my job here, Ms. Fulle. Mr. Medford is a wonderful boss. And your mother is full of surprises.” She said that last with a fondness that told me the surprises were a good thing.

  I grinned. “Thank you. She’s definitely that.”

  As Victoria Lass headed back to her office, Hal and I went to the last room on the upper floor. A wide X of yellow crime scene tape still decorated the freshly painted navy blue door.

  Hal used the key to open the door and then motioned for me to stay back while he cleared the room. He slipped between the sections of tape, leaving them intact, and disappeared into the room, gun drawn. The care with which he’d preserved the barrier reminded me that we were supposed to be off the case.

  I stared at the boiling waters of the Fawn while I waited. The river cut a winding path through a towering cliff of rock on the far side and a verdant and well-maintained acre of grass, trees, and flowers on the hotel side. Garland had done a lot of landscaping work since the last time I’d been there.

  Well, the second to the last time. The last time had been less than twenty-four hours earlier. When we found a corpse hanging from the balcony.

  I was pretty sure that hadn’t been part of Garland’s planned improvements.

  With the river roaring past, I barely heard the shout from inside the room. Responding a beat too late, I spun and stepped toward the door.

  A figure burst from the room, smashing right through the tape, and jerked with surprise when he encountered me.

  I jolted to a stop, my eyes going wide.