“I figured there’s a slim possibility the old guy might be innocent, but that I’d check it out.” He looked around and took me by the elbow. Rascal growled. Detective Steele released my arm and stepped away. “Thought you called him off.”
“Let him sniff your hand.”
He looked incredulous and stepped backward. “Are you kidding? He’ll eat my hand and arm up to my elbow.”
“Not unless I tell him to.”
When he didn’t move, I said, “Let him smell the back of your hand and I’ll tell him you’re okay.”
He still looked skeptical. “If you’re sure. But I’m right-handed, so I’m offering my left.” He slowly extended his hand toward my dog.
I rubbed Rascal’s head. “Friend, Rascal.” I nodded at the detective. “Now you can pet him.”
He did, ruffling the fur on Rascal’s neck. “Good watchdog, Miss Cameron. You had him long?”
“Three years. He’s well trained and takes guarding me seriously.” I watched him scratch Rascal’s ears. “You should call me Heather now that we’re both midnight skulkers.”
“I’d like that. In case you forgot, my name’s Kurt.” He gave Rascal’s head a last pat. “Skulkers? Is that a word?”
“Maybe not according to Webster, but you get my meaning. Well, Kurt, I have other places to go.” I moved back toward the sidewalk, skirting the opposite side of the foundation from when I’d come, beaming my light back and forth as I walked.
“At this hour?” Kurt fell in step beside me.
“I’m retracing the route Walter might have taken, starting at the Alibi and following the sidewalk. I’ll be going home through the alleys.”
“I waited in those shrubs back there. The combined scents of honeysuckle and the insect repellant I’m wearing have almost overwhelmed me.” He slapped at his neck. “Not that the insect repellant did that much good. And I’ll probably smell honeysuckle in my sleep. When I heard you coming, I’d hoped you were a drunk who came here every night.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think anyone but Walter comes here. I should have checked last night. Today, when Walter told me he’d lost his pocket watch, I hoped maybe I could find it.”
“He didn’t mention the watch to me.” He walked a few more steps. “I stationed someone here for a couple of hours after midnight last night. No one was out.”
“You did?”
He shrugged. “We have a small police force. Can’t spare a man every night on the off chance someone might come along who might remember seeing Walter. But my guy was here a couple of hours before dispatch sent him on a prowler call.”
The information that he’d had an officer here last night and now was here himself encouraged me. If he had doubts about Walter’s guilt, maybe Walter really was innocent. I wanted to believe he was, in spite of Grandpa’s questions.
And my own. In fact, I wished I were as certain as I tried to appear to Kurt.
I glanced up at him. “I appreciate your making the effort.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am.” How could I say more without insulting him? We came to a house where light shone from several windows. “This is Mr. Denby’s place. Grandpa said he doesn’t sleep well. Thought I’d check with him during the daytime though.”
“It’d probably scare him if people rang the bell at”—he glanced at his watch—“half past midnight.”
I pointed my light at two other houses. “The Henshaws live there and the Watsons at the back. Grandpa suggested checking with them, but I know you or someone from your office already has.”
“Yes, we have,” revealing nothing.
“What did you think of their information?”
He looked at me with a half-smile. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”
“Very funny. I talked to them too.”
We turned the corner and walked toward the little park.
I avoided the lovers’ hideaways like the bandstand, and headed toward the playground.
“I live in those apartments over there across the park.”
“Yeah? Those are nice.” I was impressed. The townhouses weren’t cheap. The one I’d visited had a picturesque view of the duck pond and the park. “You know the Jamesons there?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m barely settled in.”
We reached a bench where Walter sometimes sat and watched the little pond. Tonight the moonlight glistened on the water. Sleeping ducks clustered on the shore. Kurt waited while I shined my light around the bench Walter favored.
“You know all Mr. Sims’ hidey-holes then?”
“Guess you’ll think we’re meddlers and should mind our own business, but Walter’s like one of the family. Since Nora died, he needs a little extra care. We aren’t about to let him stay out in bad weather just because he’s drunk.”
“Everyone needs friends like that.” He sounded wistful again.
I wondered about his personal life. Not that I was all that interested, of course. “You making buddies with the other nice detectives?”
He shot me an amused glance. “It’s a small force, but, yeah, I guess. Takes a while for the new guy to be accepted, especially when he started as supervisor for some of the local boys.”
“I imagine so. Came up against a little of the good ol’e boy rivalry, did you?” I thought of one officer in particular and looked at him. “Travers?”
He looked surprised. “How’d you know? Guy hates my guts.”
“He’ll never get over it either. Trust me, the guy’s always been a loser.”
“You run up against him?”
“Avoided his son in school. They’re like peas from the same pod. Don’t want anyone to do better than they do, yet not willing to do a good job themselves.”
“Sounds like the Travers I’ve come to know and not love.”
By this time we’d left the park and approached the cemetery where I’d found Walter on Tuesday. When we came to the closed gates, Kurt stopped.
“This way.” I hurried thirty feet down the wrought-iron fence to a large red-tipped photinia. I stepped behind it and through a break in the vertical bars, then held the bush aside for Rascal.
Kurt followed. “I’ll be damned. Wondered how he could have sneaked inside the place at night. Couldn’t see a drunk his age climbing the fence. He should have told me.”
“Probably afraid you’d tell the cemetery association and the hole would be closed.” The shrub’s branches stuck through the other side to conceal the lack of bars. I batted away a spider web then pulled leaves from my hair and tried to smooth escaped tendrils back into my stretchy band. “Kids partying here at night damaged the headstones.“
He said, “Happens everywhere.”
Thinking of the young hooligans made me angry. “Well, it shouldn’t. The cemetery trustees had to do something to fight the vandalism so they installed floodlights. When that only slowed the problem, the historical society raised funds to erect the fence. Walter was pretty upset when the caretakers started locking the gates at dusk.” I was still fighting a spider web that appeared to have ensnared me like a giant fly.
Kurt pulled a couple of leaves from my hair. Did he touch my hair a little longer than necessary? I flicked off the remaining webbing and brushed my hands against my jeans.
While we waited for Rascal to relieve himself by the fence, I pointed toward a path. “He would have gone this way.”
We skirted the newer part of the cemetery and headed for the older section with standing tombstones. Grandpa had let me tag along with him a couple of times when he picked up Walter, but I’d never been here alone after dark, Tonight I was glad I had an escort.
Night didn’t change the new section as much as in the old area. In spite of the moon, with fewer security lights in the back area, headstones and monuments cast long shadows. In daytime it looked serene and peaceful, but ominous now, like an old “B” horror film. Wispy clouds had drifted across the moon, increasing the eerie atmosph
ere.
In spite of the warm weather, I shivered and firmly gripped the flashlight. We reached the bench where I’d found Walter yesterday. I shined the light around it, hoping to catch a glint of metal that would signal I’d found the watch.
“Look at that.” He pointed to tire tracks off the gravel road. “My investigators’ prints all over. I gave them fits, but looks like they need to make another run at cleaning up.” He bent and replaced an imitation flower arrangement in its holder.
I thought it was nice he cared, that he was respectful of the departed. Big point in his favor.
Kurt sat on one end of the bench and Rascal plopped at his feet. “Told me his wife’s buried here.”
I beamed the light toward Nora’s headstone. “Cancer. She was a sweet woman and they were one of the happiest couples I’ve ever known. Perfect for one another. He hasn’t been the same since her death.”
“Rough. Your grandfather said that’s when he started drinking. Guess losing someone you loved would do it.” He reached over to scratch between Rascal’s ears.
I didn’t mention Rockwell’s notes and the drinking binges after Walter received them. “Um, yes, they were devoted to one another. He misses her so much.” I kneeled to shine light under the bench.
“Heather, you might want to know we searched this area around the bench. Not the break in the fence, of course. Didn’t know about that, but we covered this part thoroughly.”
I sighed and straightened. “We might as well start back.”
The few clouds parted and the moon shone brightly, illuminating the cemetery. A horned owl glided overhead and onto a tree branch. I shushed Rascal so he wouldn’t growl and scare the large bird.
We paused to watch the owl fold his wide wings before we resumed walking. Cicadas hummed, apparently as glad as I was that summer was almost here. The crunch of our feet on the gravel didn’t drown out a distant train whistle’s lonely tune.
“It’s a peaceful place, isn’t it?” Kurt’s voice was hushed.
“Yes. A bit creepy right now, but I understand why Walter often chooses this time of night to come here.”
We came to the fence and I was about to step through when Rascal gave a warning growl.
Chapter Ten
I turned quickly and silenced Rascal with a firm whisper, “Shhh, quiet, boy.” Kurt pulled me gently forward behind a cedar and shielded me with his body. Cool, I’d never been so protected before. Not that I was afraid. But beside me, Rascal stood at alert, ready to lunge at the intruders.
Three teen-aged boys sauntered into view. Two scaled the wrought iron fence as easily as if climbing the monkey bars at the local playground. I had the impression they’d done this many times before tonight.
The first boy dropped to the ground. Tall and thin, he looked about fifteen. “Come on. Won’t nobody bother us here.”
“You bring your weed, man?”
I recognized the second boy as Hector Dolan, the nephew of a classmate from my high school days.
“Got it. Wait’ll we get away from the fence so nobody driving by can see us.”
“Hey, you guys give me a hand.” The third boy, shorter and shaped like a beer keg, couldn’t hoist his bulk over the fence.
The first teen turned and scowled. “Man, Joe, you’re a shitload of trouble.”
“I can’t help ‘cause I’m shorter than you guys.”
Hector said, “And twice as wide.”
Without further comment, the first teen reached through the bars and made a step with his hands.
“Thanks, Danny.” Keg boy pushed off and thrust his leg over a bar between two of the vertical spikes. “Ow, how’d you keep them rods that stick up from scratching your balls off?”
Kurt leaned back and whispered. “Guess they don’t know about the hole in the fence.”
I moved forward, my hand pressed against his back. “I hope they don’t find out.”
I felt the outline of the gun at his waist. Why it shocked me I didn’t understand. Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t wearing a uniform. Maybe it was that I’d never been around guns.
Policemen carry guns. Get over it.
“What will you do?” I asked.
“Give them a few minutes then confront them. You stay here. I know the two thin ones.”
The teens started walking. In spite of his large size, Kurt moved silently as a phantom. One minute he was in front of me, the next he was twenty feet away. It was easy to believe he’d been in Special Ops and had spent time making himself invisible.
He stepped from a cedar in front of the teens. “Going somewhere, boys?”
All three boys jumped and one of them screeched.
“Damn, we’re screwed.” Joe appeared ready to run and glanced back at the fence.
“Shit. It’s that cop, Steele,” Hector said.
Kurt stood in front of them, hands on his hips. “That’s right, it’s Steele. Now who wants to explain what you three are doing here after the gate’s locked?”
Danny stretched out a hand. “We wasn’t gonna hurt nothing, honest. We just wanna be where nobody would pick on us.” He slipped his other hand into his back pocket.
Kurt said, “Oh? Has somebody been picking on you? Tell me who and maybe I can help you.”
The three looked at one another then shook their heads.
Danny said, “Naw. We just didn’t wanna give nobody the chance. We was just gonna sit on the bench by the fountain. Nice and quiet there. No harm in that, is there?”
“The gates are locked for a reason. So, maybe you’d like me to take you in for trespassing?” Kurt walked back and forth in front of the boys, staring at them. “Or, maybe you had in mind doing something else while you’re here? You have any controlled substances?”
The three frightened-looking teens shook their heads.
Danny’s shoulder and upper arm jerked, but he held the rest of his arm behind him. I decided he was their leader, because he answered again. “No, sir, Officer Steele. We just wanted to be where wouldn’t nobody bother us and we wouldn’t bother nobody neither.”
“It’s Detective Steele.” Kurt stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips. “Either of you see an old man here two nights ago?”
Once more the three shook their heads, but Danny and Hector exchanged a glance before Danny answered again for all of them. “No, sir, Detective Steele. We didn’t see nobody.”
Kurt pointed to the bench where I’d found Walter. “I’m talking about in the cemetery. An elderly man who was drunk and who went to the old part of the cemetery back there? He probably sat on the stone bench there at the back. You sure you didn’t see him?”
Danny looked at Hector again, then back at Kurt. He said, “No, sir. We didn’t see nobody.”
“If your memory improves and you suddenly recall you saw the guy, give me a call.” He waved them away. “Otherwise, you’d better get out of here and go home before I have to arrest you.”
The three took off. This time the one called Joe didn’t need help scaling the fence. I heard cloth rip as he cleared the spiked bars and dropped to the ground.
He cupped his privates. “Ow, ow, shit, my balls.” He was bent over as he limped after the other two.
I tried not to laugh at the young man’s uncomfortable predicament, but couldn’t suppress a giggle.
Kurt motioned me toward him while he searched the ground where the three had stood.
I turned on my flashlight and shone it on the ground for him. “I thought you’d arrest them.”
“How’d you think I was gonna get them out of here? I sure as hell didn’t want to show them your secret entrance.” He stretched out a hand. “Let me borrow your light, please.”
I handed it to him and he scanned across the area behind where Danny had stood.
He stooped and picked up a small plastic bag. “That’s what I thought.”
“Marijuana?” I asked.
Opening the baggie, he sniffed. “Not even good bud.” He rolled so
me of the bag’s contents in his fingers. “Dirt weed.”
“Dirt weed? Is that different than marijuana?”
“No. Name for poor quality stuff, called shake. Includes lots of stems and seeds. Sure not worth getting arrested for.”
“Are you going to tell them you found it?”
He exhaled. “I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow. Put the fear of the Lord and the State of Texas in them. Also grill them again about Mr. Sims. It was pretty clear they’d seen him here sometime recently.” He emptied the bag’s contents, the breeze scattering it across the lawn.
“Grass on grass?”
“No one’s catching me with the stuff.” He pocketed the empty bag and took my elbow as we walked toward the hole in the fence.
“You said you know two of them already. How long have you been on the police force?”
“One month here, three years in Dallas. They’ve been across my radar a couple of times in the past few weeks. They’re not bad boys, yet. But they could go that way.”
“Hector’s aunt and I were in school together. Makes me feel old, seeing her nephew is a teen.” I crawled through the fence. “Glad we didn’t have to scale this.” I looked at him and couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Guess you are too.”
He grinned. “You bet. I value all my parts. No wrought-iron fence climbing for me.”
We walked slowly, me keeping an eye out for Walter’s watch. We’d covered the park thoroughly before and went around it. Soon we reached the residential area. The alley was dark except for the moon. Most of the back yards were hidden from view by six-foot redwood fences. One or two had backyard lights, but the rest were dark. In this older section of town, the alley wasn’t paved or lighted.
Trash cans, some in enclosures to discourage foraging animals, sat beside most of the back gates. Only a few homeowners mowed the weeds at the edge of the access, so there were lots of places a pocket watch might lay unseen—along with creepy things like rodents or snakes.
“I’ll have to use the flashlight.” I turned it on and fanned it back and forth. “So, did you notice the two tall kids exchange a look when you asked if they’d seen Walter here?”
Digging For Death Page 9