Circles in the Snow

by Patrick F. McManus

  “None.”

  “Okay, consider this. Say Hillory Fester left for Mexico the same day Morg disappeared and, according to your estimate, the same day he was killed.”

  “Yeah, based on Pap’s and my estimate of the time of the first snowfall on the knoll and what the foreman at the ranch told you.”

  Lurch sat for a long minute, apparently thinking the theory over. Then he said, “Does this mean I get to fly to Mexico, Boss?”

  “It means exactly that, Lurch.”

  “Good. I can use a vacation. Besides, I’ve never been to Mexico. You got any idea who the accomplice was?”

  “Jeff Sheridan.”

  “That would be my guess,” Lurch said. “Maybe Sheridan was the shooter. Maybe Mrs. Fester wasn’t there at all. But I think the tracks indicate they were made by either Jeff Sheridan or Mrs. Fester, someone with fairly small feet.”

  Lurch appeared lost in thought for several seconds. Tully wondered what aspect of the crime concerned him. Then Lurch said, “I can’t wait to try an authentic Mexican taco, Boss.”

  Tully sighed. “I’ll make sure you have a good time in Mexico, Lurch. You deserve it. But a gringo like you should never eat anything in Mexico that comes wrapped in a tortilla, at least not something from a street vendor. My first trip there I ate a taco from a street vendor as soon as I got off the plane. It was so delicious I scarcely minded the month I spent in a hospital afterward. So don’t eat anything from street vendors.”

  Lurch jumped up from his chair. “I’d better go home and pack.”

  “There’s no rush. I’ve got another irritation I have to take care of first.”

  Chapter 20

  Tully stopped by the district attorney’s office. “Hi, Opel,” he said to the head secretary, who had her own two secretaries. Someday he had to figure out how to get a setup like this. “Leroy available?”

  “Gosh, Bo, he’s out of the office. He should be back soon. Grab a chair, and I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Cream or sugar?”

  “How about both?”

  “You got it.” Opel walked into a little room off the DA’s office and soon returned with a tray containing a cup of coffee, a doughnut, cream, and sugar. Yes, he would definitely have to work on a setup like this. He watched her set the tray on the edge of her desk, walk around to her chair, and sit down. She was quite attractive. Tully pulled his chair over to the desk and sat across from her. “Opel, you want to do another favor for me, while I’m waiting for Leroy?”

  “Anything, Bo.”

  “Call the prison in Boise and tell them that if they’re looking for an escaped convict by the name of George Mahoney, I have him locked up in Blight County Jail.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yep, no kidding. I locked George up here yesterday.”

  She made the call and told whoever answered, “Yes, George Mahoney. Sheriff Bo Tully is sitting right here, if you wish to speak to him.” She looked at Tully. “He wants to speak to you.”

  Tully took the phone. “This is Sheriff Tully.”

  “Bo, this is Frank Pile. I’m a captain of guards here at the prison. The lady says you have George Mahoney locked up for us.”

  “Yes, I do, Frank. He’s kind of a threat to me personally, running around loose. If he gets out again, I’ll probably just shoot him and put an end to the nuisance.”

  “You won’t hear any complaints from me if you do. I’ll have a couple of guards come up and relieve you of him. After this breakout, I don’t think he’ll see the light of day for a very long time.”

  “Good to hear it, Frank. He’s got kind of a grudge against me, I don’t know why, and I have enough trouble watching my back as it is.”

  “I know the feeling well. Thanks for your help, Bo.”

  “No trouble.”

  He hung up. “Thanks, Opel. I guess we’ve got that little problem taken care of.”

  Just then the district attorney walked in. “Bo! Good of you to stop by. Step into my office. I’ve got some stuff to discuss with you.” He held the door for Tully and closed it behind him. Sitting down at his desk, he leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. Tully pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the desk. “Guess what,” Fagan said. “The FBI has sent some agents in to check on rumors that our judges have been taking payoffs from lawyers.”

  Tully shook his head. “What on earth is wrong with the feds? They know this is Blight County. Have they no respect for our traditions?”

  Fagan frowned at him. “This is serious, Bo.”

  “I suppose it is, Leroy. You would think the FBI would have better things to do than get involved in such trivial matters. I certainly have no personal knowledge of our judges throwing cases because of payoffs. Do you?”

  Fagan frowned but didn’t answer. “This could be serious, Bo. People could go to prison.”

  “I suppose. It so happens I know one of the FBI agents sent here to check on the rumors. I’ll ask her what she thinks of such suspicions and what nut is raising them. As a matter of fact, I will stop by and talk to old Judge Patterson, to see if he has any suspects among his fellow judges.”

  “Patterson! He would be my most likely suspect!”

  “Mine, too. There’s no point in questioning people you know are innocent. They never have a clue. Patterson may at least point me in the right direction, should the FBI lean on me to get involved. You sure you’re clean, Leroy?”

  “The cleanest DA Blight County ever had.”

  “That leaves a lot of room.”

  “I suppose, but I’m happy with my salary,” Fagan said. “My wife and kids would flip if I ever got involved in any dirty stuff, tempting as it might be.”

  “Wife and kids can be such a pain. As you know, Leroy, I don’t have any. I do miss my wife, though.”

  “You’ll never find another woman like Ginger, Bo.”

  “I suppose they’re out there, but I’ve never come across one. By the way, Leroy, do you know what gives the FBI an angle on our judges?”

  Fagan frowned. “I’m not sure. The agent in charge says they’ve turned up a secret bank account belonging to a lawyer, and the cash in the account has never had taxes paid on it. Don’t ask me how they figure out something like that. On the other hand, what do lawyers need secret accounts for, except to pay off judges?”

  “Take the family to Disney World?” Tully said. “A vacation in Hawaii? Simple things like that?”

  “Yeah, right. The lead agent tells me she’s worked with you before.”

  “A couple of murders. Nothing serious, but you know the FBI.”

  “She’s very attractive.”

  “Oh yeah, there’s that. I probably should go track her down, before she gets some of our citizens in trouble. She’s quite tenacious.”

  Chapter 21

  Tully pulled up in front of Judge Patterson’s house and got out. Patterson’s Cadillac was in the driveway. Tully shook his head. Judges should not drive Cadillacs, particularly in Blight County. They are a dead giveaway. He walked up on the porch and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Patterson answered.

  “Why, Bo! So good to see you. You need to drop by more often.”

  “Been busy, Mildred. Up to my neck in crime. Is His Holiness in?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry to say. Otherwise, you and I could have a high old time. He just replenished his secret stash. I’ll whip us each up a martini.”

  “Better make one for the judge, too. Otherwise, he’ll get suspicious.”

  “You think so, Bo? Aren’t you ashamed, trying to flatter an old lady like me? I do love it, though. And you, too, of course.”

  “I’m getting old, Mil, but my eyesight is good. You’re still as beautiful as ever. Don’t know how you do it.”

  “Magic, Bo, magic. You go in the study, dear, and rest yourself in your favorite chair, and I’ll run down the judge.”

  Tully had scarcely eased himself into his favorite rocker in the judge’s study when the old man came bustling in.

 
“Bo! Bo! What’s this I hear about the FBI’s being in town?”

  “Nothing for you to concern yourself about, Judge. The agents have just turned up some nonsense about a secret bank account.”

  “Oh, good heavens!” The judge slumped into a chair and put his hands to the sides of his face. “How on earth did they find out about something like that?”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t have a clue, but I suspect they leaned on one of the bank managers or picked up a rumor of some kind that apparently led them to the bank account. You know bank people can’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut. They’re always blabbing about something, and apparently the agents picked up a lead of some kind. Nothing for you to worry about, Judge.”

  “Easy for you to say, Bo.”

  Tully smiled. “The FBI thoroughly disapproves of the Blight Way when it comes to law enforcement. They always want me to stick to all the piddling rules. Which reminds me, I’ve got a couple of our citizens in jail on a minor-endangerment charge. That situation has now passed, because a few days in jail should have taught them a lesson. They also helped relieve me of a dangerous threat to my well-being, in exchange for an offer I made them.”

  “And that offer is?”

  “I told them I’d talk to you about dismissing the charges. Sure, there were about thirty witnesses to the knife fight, but maybe we could view the knife fight as just playing around. What do you say, Judge?”

  Mildred scurried in with three martinis on a tray and passed one each to Tully and the judge. She then took hers and seated herself in an easy chair in the corner.

  The judge said, “Is this, by any chance, the incident I heard about where you knocked both fighters cold with a single swipe of your blackjack?”

  Tully took a sip of his martini. Perfect. One thing about Mil, she knew how to make a drink. A few sips by the judge and the old man should give him anything he asked for.

  The judge sipped his drink. “So what’s the minor-endangerment situation, Bo?”

  “That knife fight down at Slade’s Bar & Grill.”

  The judge stared at him. “Oh yes, the knife fight. In this day and age? I can’t believe it. They must be stupid.”

  “Of course they’re stupid, Judge. If stupidity was a crime, half the people in Blight County would be locked up. But one of these guys told me the whereabouts of an escaped convict who had threatened to kill me.”

  “Good heavens, Bo! How did you find out about the threat?”

  “From my fortune-teller.”

  “Oh, Etta Gorsich! She’s one of the best. I use her sometimes when I have a tough decision to make.”

  “You can’t go wrong with Etta, Judge.”

  After the judge had finished his martini, Tully handed him the release forms he had made out and the judge scrawled his signature on them without bothering to read either the fine or large print.

  “Thanks, Judge. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me about a hundred, but keep me informed about what those FBI agents are up to. I’ve never trusted the feds.”

  “Me neither, Judge. Anything turns up, I’ll let you know. Of course, Leroy Fagan is involved, too.”

  “The DA? Is he a suspect?”

  “Just an intensely interested observer, I think, but who knows?”

  Later that day, Tully stopped by the jail. “Lulu, please haul Milton and Felix out here for me.”

  “You gonna work ’em over, Bo?”

  “Naw. We made a deal and they kept their part of the bargain, so I’m keeping mine. I’ve got an order from the judge here dismissing the charges against them.”

  Lulu laughed. “Bo, if you ain’t got that old man wrapped around your little finger, I don’t know what.”

  Tully smiled. “I know that, Lulu, and you know that, but let’s just keep it a secret between you and me.”

  Lulu drew a finger across her lips to indicate they were sealed. She yelled at Bert and the big assistant jailer came rushing over. “Haul them two knife fighters out here, Bert. Bo got them released.”

  Bert shook his head. “I don’t understand, Bo. You’re the one arrested them.”

  “Yeah, but they did me a big favor, maybe saved my life. So I’m just paying them back the favor.”

  Bert walked back into the block and said something to two of the occupants. Seconds later Felix and Milton came scurrying out. “Sheriff!” Felix blurted. “You kept your word!”

  “Yep, I always keep my word. You perhaps noticed a new resident in the cell block.”

  “Yeah! Ole Fletch. I hope he don’t know . . .”

  “You won’t have to worry about Ole Fletch for a very long time. Some prison guards will be picking him up soon and hauling him back to the joint. By the time he gets out again, we’ll all be too old to care. So pack up your stuff and clear out of here.”

  Tully watched them scurry back to their cells to pick up their belongings. He sighed and shook his head. Then he glanced at Lulu. She was watching him, smiling and shaking her head.

  Chapter 22

  Daisy was busy on her phone when Tully walked in. “Hank Schmitt on line one for you, Boss.”

  Tully walked into his office and picked up the phone. “Hank, good to hear from you. How are our criminals doing?”

  “They’re hard as nails, Bo. Spent the day pulling ten-inch planks off the green chain and never took a break. I took them out to breakfast the other morning and asked them about their plans. All three are headed back to college. May even try out for the football team. Or at least wrestling. Be a shame to waste all that new muscle.”

  Tully nodded. “Nothing like the green chain to fill a young fellow full of enthusiasm for college. I wish someone had put me on it when I was their age. Too late for that now.”

  “It’s never too late for college, Bo. Hardly a day goes by I don’t think about going back.”

  “You’d probably major in forestry, Hank, something practical like that, where you could ride around the woods in a green pickup truck all day. I regret not majoring in forestry myself, instead of art.”

  “Well, I heard from Daisy a while back you just sold a painting for twelve thousand dollars! That sounds pretty dang practical to me.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. I don’t know how practical painting pictures is, but I’m going to retire from sheriffing pretty soon and give it a shot full-time, eight hours a day. Maybe after that I’ll want to hit you up for a job on the green chain.”

  Hank laughed. “I doubt that. First you may want to ask these three boys about it. Here’s an odd thing about that. This pudgy little fellow by the name of August Finn showed up, interviewed me about how you arranged the job for the boys and like that, took pictures of me and the three boys, each of them standing down by the green chain. You know this Finn fellow, Bo?”

  “Yeah. Anyway, Hank, thanks for taking care of our three criminals. I appreciate it.” He hung up.

  He glanced across the briefing room. Lurch was hunched over his computer, typing madly away. Probably an email to some girl. He punched a button on his phone. Lurch answered. “Yeah, Boss.”

  “Get your butt in here. I have something to discuss with you.”

  He watched as his CSI unit calmly shut down his computer and sauntered across the briefing room. Somehow he had never been able to instill fear in any of his staff.

  Lurch opened the door, walked in, and grabbed a chair across from him, spun it around, sat down, and propped his elbows on its rounded back. It seemed as if none of his staff, except maybe Daisy, could merely sit in a chair. “Yeah, Boss?”

  Tully stood up, turned, and stared out over the lake for a minute. He could see the two fishermen hunched over a hole in the ice. Lucky devils. He hoped they both froze. He turned back to Lurch. “Pap gave me a rundown on how you and he figured the murder of Morg Fester. I don’t like it, but I think you may be right.”

  “What don’t you like, Boss?”

  “I don’t like Hillory Fester being the killer. Or J
eff Sheridan, either, for that matter.”

  Lurch nodded. “We didn’t like it, either. But the boot tracks of the killer indicated a small foot, a woman’s foot. What other woman was involved with Fester?”

  “Dozens of them. Some had boyfriends, some had husbands. Any one of those women might have done him just to shut him up about their affair.”

  Tully sat back down in his office chair and turned it around to face the Unit. “But you and Pap may be right, Lurch. A woman could have killed him, all right. She would have to be fairly sturdy, to pull a forty-pound bow and hold the arrow squarely on the target. Some cooks and waitresses have arms like that.” He didn’t mention one particular chef who came to mind.

  “Yeah,” Lurch said. “And the arrow was of a length commonly used by a woman.”

  “I know. We have no proof, of course, that Hillory was involved. The fact she left for Mexico the same day Fester disappeared is an odd coincidence. I did check her closet for a pair of hiking boots and didn’t find any. Jeff Sheridan told me she had a pair that she wore on her hikes in the woods, and he thought she must have taken them to Mexico with her. Apparently, she likes to explore the desert next to the ranch and probably wears them then. She might even have worn boots to drive that pickup to Mexico. We seem to have some convergences here, Lurch.”

  “Convergences?”

  “Never mind. Maybe I meant coincidences. You can’t base a murder on coincidences, though. How do you feel about taking that trip to Mexico we talked about before?”

  “I’d love it! Anything in particular I’d look for?”

  “A three-quarter-ton four-wheel-drive pickup with a tread that matches the tracks on the skid trail.”

  “And I’d find it where in Mexico?”

  “Either in the parking lot of a fancy hotel in Cabo San Lucas or on a huge ranch east of Cabo a couple hundred miles. Let’s hope you find it at the Cabo hotel. Otherwise, you’ll have to take the ferry across to the mainland.”

  Lurch stood up, a big grin on his face. “When do I leave, Boss?”

  “Go home and start packing. First, have Daisy check with the airlines to find out what’s required for you to carry a firearm on a plane as a law enforcement officer. Also, find out from the border patrol what you need to carry a firearm into Mexico.”