Norton was a couple of inches shorter than Kelly, but stout. He was dark, and had the beginnings of a dark shadow of beard.
"Looks like a mean one," Cas thought.
He addressed them both. "Are you members of this club I've heard about here at school? Before you answer, I have talked to other people and it will be a mark against you to lie about it."
Cas looked them in the eye, Todd, then Sid, letting his words sink in.
Todd returned the look Cas gave him for a few seconds. He seemed to want to look away, but couldn't.
"He's scared right down to his socks." Cas knew it. The boy dropped his eyes, not answering the question.
Cas looked at Sid. "And what about you?"
Sid seemed more worried about what Todd would say than what Cas might think. He watched him warily a few seconds before answering Cas. "I've ah, been to a couple of meetings," he admitted, his eyes going back to Todd.
"Todd?"
"I've been to a couple of meetings too." The answer was a little too quick.
"What kind of club is it? You say you've been to the meetings, tell me about it." Cas leaned back in the principal's swivel chair and waited.
"Nothin' to tell," Sid answered for them. "Some people getting together, friends having a good time."
Cas leaned forward, eyes nailing Sid. "You call trashing a cemetery and killing chickens a good time?" Cas was grim.
Sid was no longer so sure of himself, not certain how much Cas knew.
Todd spoke up. "It's only a club, I don't know why you want to ask about it, Sheriff." Todd's voice was a desperate whine.
"I'm asking about it because it came to my attention when I was looking into something else. Nobody ever paid for cleaning the cemetery up on Peaceful Ridge. It took some trouble to clean up the grounds and set up the tombstones that were turned over. Did you use that big flat one to kill the chicken on?" He shot the last question at Todd quickly, watching his reaction.
"Ch-ch-chicken?"
Sid quickly came to his defense. "We told you we went to a couple of meetings. That doesn't mean we went to any meeting at a cemetery or know anything about one, or no chicken either," Sid spat the words angrily.
"Okay, let's talk about the meetings you went to. Who was there? Who was in charge? And what did you do and talk about?"
"There wasn't anybody in charge. It was just friends getting together." Sid's flushed face dared Cas to prove otherwise.
"When I get around to the others on this list," Cas gestured at it. "I wonder if they'll be as reluctant as you to give me your names and tell me about your part in this club."
"It was Darrell! Darrell Spruce," Todd blurted out.
"Shut up, you nerd!" Sid glared at Cas, blaming him for Todd's lapse. He backed off a little, lowering his voice. "I think Darrell was there, but nobody was in charge. We were just there," Sid tried hard to sound convincing.
"Don't get in a lather. I already knew Darrell was in charge. You'd do well to tell me whatever you know that might help keep your own buns out of trouble," Cas pointed a finger at Sid.
"I'm not in any trouble!" Sid was vehement. "I haven't done anything to be in any trouble. I'm going to tell my folks about you coming down here and talking to me like this. You've got no right!"
The more Sid talked, the more excited he got. His voice rose to a shout.
Cas stood up, leaned across the desk and spoke to him. His face was mere inches away, his words coming out like a low growl between his teeth.
"You set your smart ass back down in that chair and speak with respect or we'll finish this little chat in my office. After which, we'll bring your parents down there to talk about it, too, if that's what you want."
Todd's mouth gaped open at this exchange. There was no doubt to anyone in that room that Cas was not impressed, much less intimidated, by these two roughnecks. The rest of the interview didn't net Cas much more in the way of information than he already had, but it ended on a more cooperative note, grudging or not.
Cas dismissed the boys and waited to thank John Squires before he left.
"The main thing I got out of this session was to put a fear in those two," he thought as he left." I wonder how much of this pressure is getting back to Darrell? I'm going to talk to everyone else before I tackle him, let him get good and worried."
Chapter 9
"Missy! Missy! Wait for me!"
Dana caught up with Missy after class. She tried to catch her breath and ask questions at the same time. It didn't work. She put her hand on Missy's arm to slow her down.
"Oh, I know what you're going to ask me. Yes, Chuck and I broke up. I don't want to talk about it." Missy pulled her arm free and hurried on.
Seated on the school bus, she gazed out the window, face averted from her schoolmates, seeing only the events of the day in her mind's eye.
"I guess I'll have to tell Dana. About me and Chuck. I hurt her feelings, and she means well. There's no way to explain how you feel seeing you've been mistaken about someone you thought you knew."
* * *
A wonderful aroma greeted Cas as he opened the kitchen door.
"Umm, something smells good, onions too." He moved toward the stove as if drawn by an irresistible force.
"Don't touch! It's about ready anyway. We're having steak smothered in onions and mashed potatoes to go with the good gravy," Connie told him as she set the table.
Cas stopped, looking into the hallway. "Where's Missy? Is the help on strike?"
"Upstairs. She seemed to have something on her mind, or maybe a lot of homework. So I went on and set the table myself. I'll call her if she's not down here by the time I get things on the table."
Cas went to wash his hands and met Missy as she came down the stairs. "Smells like a good dinner waiting for us in there, better go help your mother."
"Just in time," Connie greeted her without turning around. "Everything's ready. I'm taking things up now." She set the potatoes on the table as Cas came back in.
"Remind me not to fix anything with onions on Saturday," Connie told them.
"Why not?" Missy asked absently, placing kitchen ware beside the plates.
"You told me not to go so heavy on the onions when you're going out, remember? And you have a date with Chuck."
"Oh. Well, don't worry about it. He's not coming." She was facing away from Connie, still arranging things on the table.
"Not coming. Oh. Well," Connie swallowed the questions she knew would be labeled nosy. "That's one less worry about the menu. And onions, then."
Cas sat down and picked up his napkin, raising his eyebrows at Missy.
In the silence, Missy tilted her head, looking from her father's raised eyebrows to her mother's concerned but sealed lips.
"I just said I don't have a date with Chuck, Saturday. I didn't know it was going to be such a shock." She reached for a roll.
Connie laughed, realizing how overdrawn their reactions had been. "It's not really shocking. I only wondered what happened to make you cancel your date. And was trying not to ask any of those nosy questions I'm so famous for," she added.
"Thanks," Missy giggled. "I know that must have been a strain. Truth is, I didn't exactly cancel it. It was sort of a, ah, mutual cancellation. Then afterwards, I decided it was best anyway. I don't think I know him as well as I thought I did." She turned to Cas.
"And dad, I think where he wanted to go Saturday may be connected with Darrell Spruce's weird club and their wild and free meeting or whatever it is."
Cas put down his fork beside his plate. It's not every day your daughter gets invited to an orgy, or a meeting for planning one.
"You said any kind of information or talk might help, didn't you?"
"Don't tell me he wanted you to go to one of those meetings?" Cas's dark brows drew together darkening further an already stormy frown.
"From what he said, I think so. Anyway, we were talking between classes about our date for Saturday and he started talking about doing so
mething different. That's what he called it, something different. He seemed excited about whatever it was. I still don't know for sure if that's what he was talking about. But he said this group he wanted to go somewhere with was doing a lot of fun things and they were soon going to have some kind of big party. With people from other counties coming to it too. Then he said something about Darrell Spruce being in the group."
Missy glanced at Connie, taking them both into her confidence. "You should have seen the look on his face! That's what made me see him as not too bright. You'd think he'd been invited to have lunch with the governor or something. I didn't say anything to that. I mean about Darrell coming. And he rattled on until I could see it must be one of those screwball meetings he wanted to go to. I was so disgusted with him! But by then he was so wound up about it I had to say something to make him understand what I thought of that. He was so excited it hadn't even dawned on him I wouldn't want to go. I told him I wouldn't go to one of those meetings if everything else in the county was closed."
"Good for you," came out in low growl between Cas's teeth.
Missy shrugged. "I guess we both sounded off. I said not to bother coming over Saturday, and that was that."
She tossed her head for emphasis and grinned at Connie. "I'm glad of it. So, bring on the onions!"
Cas resumed his dinner. "It sounds like Darrell Spruce is trying hard to impress everybody and set himself up as some kind of leader. Did Chuck tell you where the meeting is going to be?"
"From what he said they must be going up on Peaceful Ridge again. He told me they had met there before but this time, they're going to be careful not to leave any signs they've been there. He said there was plenty of room and privacy, no one around for miles, which sounds like the cemetery. You said they left trash and turned over some tombstones last time. So that must be where it's going to be since he mentioned it being so private, and cleaning up this time, don't you think?"
Cas nodded. "Yes. It's Peaceful Ridge, you can bet on it. That they're planning on cleaning up after themselves is a dead give-away, pardon the pun," he chuckled. "Thanks for the tip."
The smile quickly disappeared. "Missy, have you heard anything at all about Denise? Anyone hint there was anyone who didn't like her or jealous of her? Even a remote reason mentioned about why she was killed?"
"No, dad. I haven't heard anyone even mention her name. It's as if she's been forgotten in the excitement Darrell Spruce is stirring up with this club of his. Poor Denise," she added sadly.
"I know it must seem that way, but we've not forgotten her. Right now my office has more reports coming in about cattle thefts and related things than anything on the Davis case. There doesn't seem to be any place to start unraveling what happened to her." He noticed Connie's glum expression and helped himself to more meat.
"This good dinner deserves better conversation. This is good, Connie. I'm glad you're not driving to Fort Craig now, or is that selfish?"
"No, it's not." Connie perked up, "I'm glad too. I'd have missed this sale for one thing and we wouldn't be having this good dinner. Not to mention I enjoyed shopping with Miss Mayme and Miss Minnie."
* * *
At work, Cas jumped back into his jumble of unfinished cases and problems, following up on the reports of cattle thefts. He reached for the phone. When he got to feeling his problems were coming in bunches like bananas he called his fellow disciple of law and order, Harlan for a conference.
"Harlan," Cas said, pleased Harlan had answered the phone. "I've got those printouts you sent in front of me. There are several dates where these so-called supernatural doings and the suspected cattle thefts were either the same date or only one or two days apart. I noticed the goat, too. So Tinwhistle's wasn't the only goat stolen."
"Yeah, I remember that. And the farmer who owned it was just as mad as Matthew Tinwhistle, too. I don't have to tell you how much fun it is to have these farmers breathing down your neck when you don't know which way to turn or what to look for."
"I've not had any success on the Davis case either but I've got a chance to try something that might help. Will you do me a favor?"
"Anything I can do, what is it?"
"I've got hear-say information there's going to be one of those suspected devil worship meetings up on Peaceful Ridge tomorrow night. Have you got a man who could go and watch? He could report what's actually going on and maybe pick up something about the murder, since a lot of the school students will be there. I need someone who can pass for a high school student or someone close to their age, since they're trying to drum up members for their group."
"You need someone about eighteen with twenty years experience like all the other local employers?" Harlan laughed at his predicament. "Being that young he might need more experience than he's had a chance to get for going undercover. But it might work."
"Yeah, experience would be nice. But from what I hear these club members are doing, they're beating the bushes, trying to get everyone they can to come. So I don't think it will be dangerous unless he would stand out as way too old for this crowd and been in law enforcement long enough to look like a policeman. My youngest deputy is pushing the thirties, poor old guy."
Cas grinned into the phone, picturing Doug Freeman. "You got any young blood in Marble County?"
Harlan laughed again, "I've got just the man! He's new. My newest deputy. He's trying hard to fit in, in spite of being the rookie and teased, and called 'kid' by the others. He'd be perfect."
"Sounds like just what I'm looking for."
"I'll get hold of him and call you back. Just between us old folks, he'll be tickled to death to get this chance at something the others can't do. Let him get in a little teasing of his own. It'd be a bit of justice. Besides which, if the others let him live, I think he's going to be a good man. I'll get back with you soon as I can."
"Thanks. I'll be right here waiting for your call. We need a break of some kind, maybe this will be it."
* * *
Missy saw Casey out of the corner of her eye as she stood in front of her locker. He was coming down the hall toward her but walking slowly, as if he hadn't made up his mind whether to come and speak to her or not. She picked up two of the books she had put into the locker then replaced them, moving a bookmark in one of them. When he got closer, she looked around and smiled.
Casey smiled back, his lip was about healed.
"Hi," he said, stopping about three feet away from the locker door.
"Hi, yourself. I see your lip's almost healed now. And your yellow and green eye, too," Missy giggled.
She moved a little closer to look at it as she reached back to close the locker door.
"Yeah...." Casey grinned, touching the lip lightly. "It really stood out, didn't it? But I think I'm going to live, even if I can't play the grand piano."
"Oh well, I'm not all that hung up on piano music anyway," Missy dismissed that.
Encouraged by her grin he went on. "There's a new movie on at the theater in the Mall, or there will be Saturday. Would you like to go? I've got my car fixed so we'll have transportation," he added hopefully.
"Sure, I'd like to go. I heard about what happened to your car," she said carefully. "I'm glad your mom wasn't hurt." She gave him a serious look. "That's unofficial, off the record, and all that good stuff."
"Yeah, I understand that. Your dad's pretty sharp. You know, he got there almost as fast as I did to see what happened to the car."
Missy nodded. "I know. He doesn't usually talk about things at the office at home. But that made him so mad, for someone to do that. Your mom could have been hurt or even killed."
"That was the scary part, all right. The car's fixed now." He glanced at the closed locker. "I'll take you home if you're ready, unless you're going to ride with someone else?"
"No, this is one of the times I'd be riding the school bus. I'd be glad to have a ride home. Thanks."
Outside, "Someone's waving at you." Casey pointed. "Over there."
&n
bsp; "Oh, it's Dana. Dana Green." Missy smiled and waved to Dana as they walked toward Casey's car. "I guess she can get off the panic button now."
* * *
"Hey! Take a number!" Connie called a halt to the chaos at the dinner table.
"I think," she decided, "Since your father is the Head of the House, he should go first. The floor is yours, Sheriff Larkin."
They had just sat down to dinner and all of them seemed to be bubbling over with news.
"Thank you, Judge Connie," Cas winked at her. "Listen up, troops. We may be on the verge of getting lucky. The meeting that's going to be held Saturday up on Peaceful Ridge, reported by Deputy Missy, here." He grinned.
Missy tossed her head as if it had grown two hat sizes and broke out in a pleased smile as he continued.
"The meeting will be attended by someone who will be listening and watching to find out what goes on at the meetings and anything else he can find out about the club or anything else of interest. Maybe someone will mention Denise, maybe not. We can hope. We'll at least have first hand information on their activities and any plans for further mischief they mention they're planning."
He tried to look like the FBI and CIA combined as he added officially: "Never mind, of course, about the ID, gender, or where the undercover officer will come from." He put on his Mission Impossible face, trying not to spoil it with a grin.
"That might be hard to figure out for someone who doesn't know you and Sheriff Harlan Glover are joined at the hip," Missy observed with altogether too much amusement.
"Lord!" Cas was floored. "When she gets a little older and heaven forbid, smarter, I'll either have to shoot her or hire her!"
He looked to Connie for advice. "Which do you think it should be?"
Connie cast a perplexed eye on her offspring. "How long have I got to think it over?"
"Mom!"
It was Cas's turn to laugh. "Come on back down to earth. I've questioned nearly everyone on that list Muriel Davis gave me, some of them twice, and haven't turned up a thing. All we've got right now is, she is known to have gone to some of those club meetings. This is not to be discussed, as you already know."
The Devil in Maryvale Page 10