All Natural Murder

by McLaughlin, Staci

  I shut the door, grumbling to myself about my unwelcome afternoon plans as I walked around the car and got in. Sweat gathered along my hairline before I’d even settled into my seat.

  Horace leaned between the two seats and tried to hit the buttons on my console. “Good God, woman. Turn on the air conditioner.”

  “You trying to kill us?” Darlene asked. She removed her gold sweatshirt, revealing a purple T-shirt with a picture of a cheese wedge on the front.

  I turned the key in the ignition and started the air conditioner full blast. We headed out, Darlene fiddling with the air vents so that they pointed directly at her.

  She spent the ride complaining about the weather, complaining about the cost of food and gas, and complaining about the long plane ride ahead of them. Horace would occasionally grunt his agreement from the backseat. By the time I pulled into the fairgrounds parking lot, I was wishing that we were headed to the airport instead, so they could get started on that plane ride.

  The fairgrounds looked completely different on this visit compared to the last. On Saturday night, the parking lot had been packed with monster truck fans all jazzed up for the rally. Today the parking lot was one giant, empty expanse, save for a lone truck over near the buildings. As I pulled into a slot a few spaces away, I glanced at the green paint job and did a double take as I bumped the curb with my car. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was Todd’s truck. What was he doing here? Retrieving something from the scene of the crime? Had he lied about his alibi after all?

  I shut off the engine, and we all piled out of the car. Darlene fanned herself with her hand, then reached down and retrieved her cane from the car.

  “Hotter than blazes out here,” she said. “Did you pack any drinks?”

  “No, but you’ll find vending machines over there.” I pointed to the nearest building, where a Pepsi machine glowed.

  “I didn’t bring my purse.”

  Horace patted the pockets of his plaid shorts and shrugged.

  This customer satisfaction was for the pits. I fished around my console until I found a few dollar bills, then held them out to the Steddelbeckers.

  Darlene snatched the bills from my hand and scowled. “Guess this’ll be enough.”

  Gee, you’re welcome.

  I leaned against the car and watched them step onto the curb, cross the sidewalk that ran before the building, and approach the soda machine apprehensively, as though it might spring to life and steal their money. Well, my money.

  A door in a nearby building opened, and Todd emerged. He was studying the screen on his smartphone and didn’t look up until he reached his truck. When he spotted me, I gave him a little wave.

  He lowered the phone. “You still following me? Waiting to plant that evidence?”

  Here I thought we’d moved past that, but apparently not. “I’m working. How about you?”

  “None of your damn business,” he said.

  Testy, testy. “Have the day off?” I persisted. Why else wasn’t he at work on a Tuesday afternoon?

  “I don’t have to answer your questions.” He yanked his truck door open and hopped inside, slamming the door and starting the engine. But instead of driving away, he sat there, texting.

  Fine. I didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

  I glanced over at the Steddelbeckers, but they seemed to be arguing over what kind of soda to purchase. From the looks of it, they might be there a while.

  As I tried to think of something more to ask Todd, I heard a truck horn. I looked toward the sound and saw Crusher motoring across the lot toward me. He made a U-turn, pulled up near the building, and leaned out the driver’s-side window, gesturing to me to join him.

  The Steddelbeckers were still in the middle of what appeared to be a Pepsi versus Dr. Pepper debate. I trotted to Crusher’s truck.

  He ran a hand through his blond hair. “I don’t know how you found out about my practice, but I definitely appreciate the show of support, especially with this being my last day and all.”

  I jerked my head toward the Steddelbeckers. “Actually, I’m here to look at some tractors. So are you heading back to San Diego tomorrow, or are you off to another monster truck rally?”

  “Home to San Diego. I don’t want to compete again until I’ve signed some deals. I’m not giving my kind of talent away for free.”

  How quickly commercialism entered the picture. But after losing sponsors before, Crusher probably wanted to lock them in while he could.

  Crusher flashed that grin that could thaw a walk-in freezer. “I figured I’d practice that trick a few more times to make sure it was perfect before I head out tomorrow. Why don’t you skip the tractors and come watch me?”

  Not a bad idea. If he was heading out in the morning, this might be my last chance to get some insight into his knowledge of Bobby Joe. Plus, it might be fun. I glanced at the Steddelbeckers, who had apparently settled on their drink selection and were now trying to feed a dollar bill into the machine. Gordon had only said I needed to drive them to the fairgrounds, not babysit them once we got here.

  “Let me show those two where the tractors are located, then I’ll break away,” I told Crusher.

  “Great, that’ll give me time to suit up. See you at the track.” He drove toward the other end of the lot.

  I returned to the sidewalk, glancing at Todd’s truck as I went by. He was still engrossed in his phone and didn’t look up. Or else he pretended not to notice me.

  At the soda machine, I took the dollar bill from Darlene and stuck it into the slot. The dollar disappeared.

  “Guess I smoothed that out for you,” Darlene commented.

  After we’d inserted more dollars and purchased their drinks, I walked the pair behind the building and into a fenced area. The large enclosure was full of dusty tractors, parts, and plow equipment. Not much to look at, from my perspective, but I saw Darlene smile for the first time since I’d met her.

  “Look at all these treasures. Why, I feel right at home.”

  “Yup, yup,” Horace said. “Best part of the trip, by far.”

  If I’d known they liked tractors so much, I could have left them here all weekend. “Guess you two have lots to look at. I’m going to run over to the arena for a few minutes.”

  Horace and Darlene showed no response as they fondled a fender together, so I headed back across the parking lot, which was at least the length of a football field. With the sun beating down, I felt like I was crossing the Sahara.

  By the time I found an open gate outside the arena and stepped into the dirt enclosure, Crusher was already dressed in his jumpsuit, helmet in hand. His monster truck sat in the middle of the circle. He must have parked his regular truck around back.

  “I can’t wait for you to see me practice.”

  His enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I really enjoyed watching you at the rally on Saturday night.”

  He reached out and took one of my hands in his. I resisted the impulse to pull my hand away from this unexpected gesture.

  “I’m not used to girls who don’t fall all over me,” he said. “The way you ran away after our date, you made it pretty clear you’re not into me.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me,” I blurted out, then winced. This wasn’t even a breakup, and it still sounded trite. “What I mean is that I’m already seeing someone, someone I care about.” Even if we butted heads sometimes.

  Crusher released my hand. “I was hoping for one more chance to impress you with my trick, but I guess I’d be wasting my time.”

  Ugh, I hated turning guys down, especially when I’d only gone out with Crusher for information. “I’d still love to see you practice.” As an added bonus, that’d give me more time away from the Steddelbeckers.

  Crusher offered another smile, though it wasn’t as radiant as the others, and donned his helmet. He climbed into the truck cab, and a moment later, the engine roared to life. The truck lurched into motion and sped across the dirt. I watche
d as he did a series of jumps, followed by a doughnut, amazed at the difference my new perspective made.

  When I’d been sitting in the stands on Saturday night, watching the trucks perform had been much like watching them on TV, only louder. Down on the floor, level with the enormous truck, the experience was downright terrifying. Those giant inflated tires could squash a man flat without even slowing the truck down.

  After another doughnut, Crusher drove to the far end of the track and sat for a moment. Was the big trick coming? Was he psyching himself up?

  As I watched, the truck raced forward, gaining speed as it approached the ramp. I waited for him to ease off the gas as he went up the incline, but he never slowed down.

  The truck went airborne. It soared to impossible heights for such a heavy machine, then dropped back down and landed with a heavy bounce. The truck tipped on two wheels and fell over on its side, then onto its roof.

  The momentum carried the truck forward a few yards before it rolled back up on the other two wheels. After a moment, the truck righted itself completely. I wasn’t a monster truck fan, but even I felt my mouth drop open as I watched.

  Crusher braked and killed the engine. He jumped from the cab and removed his helmet, his gaze never leaving my face as he trotted toward me. He was obviously waiting for me to rip off my clothes and throw myself on him. But my amazement had turned to confusion. That trick seemed so familiar. Where had I seen it before?

  Crusher clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Well, what did you think? That’s the best trick you’ve ever seen, right?”

  I nodded slowly, still searching my memory archives. “I can see why the scout was so excited. It’s just that I’ve seen that somewhere. Only in drawing form. It was at . . .” I slammed my mouth shut before I could finish the sentence.

  I’d suddenly remembered where I’d seen the sketch. On Bobby Joe’s desk the night I’d searched his room.

  So why was Crusher the one performing the trick?

  33

  Crusher’s grip tightened on my shoulder. “This is my special trick. It belongs to me. Only me.” His voice took on a pouting tone.

  Had Bobby Joe stolen the drawing from Crusher in hopes of perfecting it himself, or had Crusher taken it from Bobby Joe? Bobby Joe was the dead one, so the odds were pretty good that Crusher was the thief. And possibly the killer.

  I needed to get out of here.

  “You’re right,” I said, trying to come up with a plan as I spoke. “I saw a similar trick somewhere, but it was nowhere near as cool as this one. You’re definitely the king of monster truck tricks.”

  I stepped to the side and turned so Crusher would have to let go of my shoulder. Maybe it was my imagination, but I’d swear he was eying me like a fox would eye Berta and the other chickens.

  “Thanks for letting me watch your practice. It was fun,” I said. “I should find the Steddelbeckers now. They’re going to wonder why I’ve been gone so long.”

  Crusher stared at me so intensely that I had to force myself to break eye contact and stare at the dirt.

  “It’s my trick,” he repeated. “Mine.”

  “Of course it is. And you did a great job with it.” I backed toward the exit, watching Crusher for any sudden moves. He seemed more confused than anything, and I used his uncertainty to slip through the gate, careful not to walk too fast and spook him.

  Maybe I was off base. Maybe Crusher performing Bobby Joe’s trick had nothing to do with Bobby Joe’s death. But Crusher seemed to need this sponsor deal pretty bad. Bad enough to kill for it? He certainly overreacted when I mentioned having seen the trick already. I needed to find the Steddelbeckers and get back to the spa, so I could pass this information on to the police.

  I stopped at the edge of the lot and looked across the expanse of asphalt to where my car waited, baking in the sun. Todd must have left while I was watching Crusher, because his truck was no longer parked near mine. Darlene and Horace were still looking at tractors, since I didn’t see them either. They’d be sure to kick up a fuss when I insisted we return to the spa, but what choice did I have?

  I heard footsteps and knew I’d hesitated too long. A cough came from directly behind me, and I jumped as I whirled around.

  “Crusher, aren’t you going to practice some more?”

  “Why are you so nervous?” he asked, ignoring my question. “I haven’t done anything.” The way he said it left no question that he had, indeed, done something.

  Well, crap.

  I tried to rearrange my face to appear innocent, but I’d lost all control of my facial muscles. I’m sure my expression shouted my panic.

  I tried for the bluff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m late, that’s all. The Steddelbeckers will want to go back to the farm soon.”

  He reached up and brushed at a strand of my hair. I flinched when his fingers grazed my temple.

  “No, something’s up,” he said. “You’re acting funny. Maybe you’re not the cool chick I thought you were.”

  I held up my hands. “I don’t know what’s happening here, but I need to get back to work.” I had a sudden flashback to four days ago, when we’d been in this exact same position, only then I’d been trapped in his cabin. Why hadn’t I noticed how scary he was? How could I have been so easily blinded by his charming smile?

  “You’re not leaving until I figure out what you know. Do you think Bobby Joe did this same trick?”

  “I’ve never seen any of Bobby Joe’s tricks.” At least that was the truth, and my voice held conviction.

  Crusher jutted his face toward me, as if trying to peek inside my thoughts. “I hope you don’t think I killed Bobby Joe. I couldn’t have. I went to bed early, like I always do before a rally, like I told you.”

  Only he hadn’t gone to bed early. He’d been at the fairgrounds the night Bobby Joe was killed. Ashlee mentioned how she’d been tempted to flirt with him to get back at her straying boyfriend. How could I have missed that before?

  “Yes, I remember,” I lied, my mind screaming that I needed to run, to get the hell out of here. “I know you’d never hurt Bobby Joe.” I clutched my St. Christopher medal, a source of comfort. “Now excuse me. I have to find the Steddelbeckers before they make a scene.”

  Before I could move away, he grabbed my arm. A jolt of fear seared my insides.

  “You don’t know what the last couple of years have been like,” he said. “I lost that sponsor deal and gambled away everything I made and then some. All these guys keep chasing me, wanting their money, and I don’t have it. But this is my big chance to make it all right. Get everybody off my back.” He grabbed my other arm, pulling me close. “I can’t let you ruin this.”

  Almost by instinct, I brought my knee up to his groin, using every ounce of energy I could muster. Crusher released his hold and doubled over with a grunt.

  I placed both hands on his head and shoved. Hard. He fell to the pavement. I turned and sprinted across the parking lot, knowing my lead wouldn’t last. I aimed for my car like a bullet for a target. If I could only throw myself inside and lock the door, I’d be safe. My feet pounded on the pavement, my car a seemingly impossible distance away.

  I wondered if Crusher was chasing me, but I didn’t dare take the time to look. I’d swear the parking lot had doubled in length and my car was now two football fields away instead of one. I felt drenched in sweat, the smell of the heat on the asphalt heavy in my nose. My sides heaved, and I gasped for air as I closed the gap between myself and my Honda.

  Behind me, an engine fired up, the sound growing louder. This time, I glanced over my shoulder and saw my worst fears materialized.

  Crusher swung out of the gate in his monster truck, the giant boulder fists painted on the hood ready to pound me. The noise grew to an excruciating level as he hit the gas and bore down on me.

  I faced forward, refusing to watch Crusher advance. If the truck ran me over, I’d rather not see it coming. My car was only a few feet away.
/>   I lunged and grabbed the door handle.

  Locked.

  No time to dig the keys from my pocket. By now, the truck engine was so loud I was surprised my brain hadn’t shattered.

  Abandoning the car, I jumped onto the curb and looked back. Crusher’s truck was headed straight at me, only yards away. I crouched before the front fender of my car as he launched the truck onto the curb and squealed to a stop. I was lucky he hadn’t decided to flatten my car with me in front of it.

  I stood up, ready to run to the nearest building, but then froze. The Steddelbeckers were headed my way, halfway between the tractors and my car.

  They were still a good thirty feet away, and I flapped my hands at them like a panicked chicken. “Go back! Get out of here!”

  Horace put a hand to his chest and looked behind him like I might be yelling at somebody else. As I opened my mouth to shout again, I heard the truck door open. Crusher was coming.

  I raced to the Steddelbeckers and grabbed Horace’s shoulders. “We have to hurry. I think Crusher killed Bobby Joe. He’s after me now.” I glanced back and saw Crusher running full steam in our direction.

  Horace said, “What the . . .” as Darlene asked, “Who’s Bobby Joe?”

  I gestured to the dumbfounded Steddelbeckers as I fled toward the tractors. “I’ll explain later. Come on.” Maybe I could hide them behind some machinery and go for help. With Darlene’s bad leg, she couldn’t possibly outrun Crusher.

  When I reached the entrance to the tractor area, I stopped. Darlene and Horace stood in the same spot. Crusher had almost reached them.

  “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!” I shouted at them. They still didn’t move. Then again, I wasn’t even sure Crusher had noticed them. The fury on his face as he stared at me made my body turn cold all over, never mind the scorching heat.

  He reached the pair without slowing. Horace stepped in front of Darlene as if to protect her.

  Crusher pushed him, and Horace stumbled back.

  “Outta my way,” Crusher snarled.