“Forewarned is forearmed.”
“What about your lady friend? She’s also in harm’s way now. ”
“Not for long. She was due to leave anyway. I’ll just speed it up. I appreciate you putting a guard on her. He’s a good cop.”
“Melore’s my best,” she said. “But I’m glad she’s leaving.”
Deerly-Johnson didn’t look happy.
“You suspect three of the most prominent men in this town, including the President of the Town Council, who just happens to be my boss.”
“Like you said, maybe they only ran their mouths off. But I’m pretty good at reading people. They know something.”
***
My Santa Fe was part of a crime scene investigation, so I made a call from the police station to a rental car agency in town. They didn’t have anything with bullet-proof glass or side-mounted machine guns, so I settled for what I hoped was an inconspicuous Toyota Corolla. As a favor to Deerly-Johnson, the agency said it would have someone drop the car off at the station.
“I don’t know when we can release your car,” she said.
“I’m not sure I even want it back.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Still, I know a good body shop. Want me to send it there to get cleaned up? You will need new glass, too.”
I took her up on the offer and then called my insurance company. When my rental came, I thanked the Chief and left.
Back at the Elson place, Officer Melore and Gunner answered the door. The cop had his gun out. He holstered it when he let me in and went back to the island in the kitchen, where he was drinking coffee with Alice. There were empty plates in front of them.
“The lady was nice enough to make me a sandwich.”
“I made a couple for you,” Alice said, going to the refrigerator.
I bent down to hug Gunner and check his wounds, which were superficial. I wondered how much of the blood I’d seen on his coat earlier had been from Lucas.
“The vet said he will be fine,” Alice said. “She gave me some antibiotic pills just in case. She also said he’s the nicest dog she’s seen in a while.” Alice bent down for a doggie lap. “Isn’t that right, Gunner?”
“I guess I can run along,” Melore said. “I checked all the doors and windows. Chief will have a car cruise by just enough so that anyone watching will notice. No set pattern, so they can’t be sure when we’ll be around. We’re shorthanded, so it’s the best we can do. I’d stay alert, if I were you.”
“Would you mind sticking around a few minutes and then escorting Alice out of town?”
Alice looked at me. I knew the look. Every man does.
“I’m supposed to leave tomorrow,” she said. “And I’m not sure I should leave at all.”
“You are going now. And Gunner is going with you.”
“The hell you say.”
I looked at Melore. He took the hint.
“I think I’ll check the perimeter one more time,” he said. As he walked past me he whispered, “Probably safer outside now, anyway.”
After he left, I turned to Alice.
“I can’t do what I have to do if I’m worrying about you all the time.”
“And just what do you plan to do?”
“Find out what the hell is going on around here. Find out who killed that boy.”
“You mean find out who is trying to kill you.”
“It’s the same thing, Alice.”
“I don’t think Laurene Robillard, or Elson, whatever the hell her name is, sent you down here to get killed. Why don’t you let the police do their job. They will eventually get to the bottom of it.”
Alice was angry, and worried. That wasn’t a good combination. I took her in my arms. She stiffened.
“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Alton.”
I pressed her closer.
“Look. I think that the police chief is a good cop. But I also think she doesn’t know what ‘it’ is. And she might be hamstrung. She has to answer to the Town Council, whose president may be involved. If that’s the case, you can bet she’ll be kept shorthanded. You yourself said that there is something fishy in this town. Something that Colver Elson’s murder is bringing to the surface. Laurene asked me to find out who killed Elson. I don’t think I can do that without finding out what else is going on. I’m not that easy to kill, especially when I’m on my guard, looking out only for myself. But if I have to watch out for you, too, it makes me more vulnerable. It increases the chance that I will get killed. You must see that.”
Alice buried her head in my shoulder. I could tell from the way her body relaxed that I’d gotten through to her. She leaned up and kissed me, hard, and then gently, on the mouth.
“I love you,” she said. “I’ll go pack.”
I went outside. Melore was leaning against his patrol car.
“Must be weird staying inside a house where there was a murder,” he said.
I thought back to what had happened in my own basement back home.
“You get used to it.”
“It is a beautiful place. Boys back at the station raved about it.”
“Weren’t you here when they found the body, or during the investigation?”
“Nah. I was tied up the night of the murder. Found some crazy woman walking naked along the road and spent most of my shift getting her settled in a hospital. Then I went off duty. Got called back in, of course, but the Chief had me doing regular patrol work. Most everyone else was at the crime scene. I think I was the only car out and about.”
The door opened and Alice came out with her small suitcase. Gunner trotted after her.
“Just follow me, Miss,” Melore said as he got into his squad car.
Alice settled Gunner in her Volvo and then turned to me.
“You will be careful, won’t you?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“You are such a ball buster.”
“Look who is talking.”
We kissed and and she left.
I went back inside and called Laurene. I told her everything that had happened. She was not pleased, and as I expected agreed with Alice.
“I want you to get out of that idiot town!”
“My car has been impounded for evidence.”
“Don’t be a wiseass.”
“Don’t you want to find out who killed your grandfather?”
“I hardly knew the old bastard,” she said. “He dumped me, remember? Maybe if he was still alive we could have built up a relationship. But it’s no skin off my nose. Sure, I’d have liked to find out what happened, but not enough to get you killed. I feel bad enough about that boy who got shot. I won’t have you on my conscience. My lawyers will straighten out the legal stuff. I’ll sell everything down there and I’ll move my mother up here. I don’t need this crap.”
I repeated the arguments I used on Alice. Then, I added something that Alice knew instinctively.
“I don’t like it when people try to kill me. And I particularly don’t like it when an innocent kid gets killed in my place. Somebody is going to pay.”
Laurene must have heard something in my voice. There was a long pause.
“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do,” she said resignedly.
“Something like that.”
“I could fire you.”
“I’ll sue.”
Laurene laughed.
“This is one weird conversation, considering how we met.”
“No argument there. I’ll keep you informed. Don’t even think about coming to Atlas. I got rid of Alice so I wouldn’t have keep an eye on her. I don’t need you here complicating things. Don’t worry. I’ll be around to walk you down the aisle.”
It wasn’t late, but I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I hadn’t eaten all day. But I had no appetite and I wanted nothing more than a few stiff drinks and a bed. I shook off my lethargy and began to search the house, room by room. It was a big house and I didn’t finish until after midnight. I
assumed that all the previous searchers, both legal and illegal, had done a thorough job and looked in all the obvious places for anything hidden. So, I looked in the not-so-obvious places. The backs of toilets, the toilet tanks, behind every picture, in every lamp, through the pages of books and magazines. Old houses have a lot of nooks and crannies. The damn Elson house was probably in the Nooks and Crannies Hall of Fame. Even the best searcher may miss something, so after I finished my own effort, I went back and went through the obvious hiding places. Other than a lot of recently dead insects and a desiccated mouse behind an old chest of drawers that the cleaning service missed, I found nothing interesting. Not that the bugs and mouse were interesting, but at least they were a change of pace. By the time I got to Judge Elson’s huge liquor cabinet, which I left for last for obvious reasons, I was bleary-eyed. I had visions of taking out a bottle from his small-batch bourbon stash and finding what I was looking for, whatever it was. I moved all the bottles, looked behind them, and then held them up to the light. Nothing.
I sighed and reached up in the cabinet for a glass. Most of the bourbon bottles had been opened, and any one of them would have been fine. I think I would have drunk single-batch Sterno at that point. But there was an unopened bottle of “Jefferson's Presidential Select 21 Year Old Bourbon” that wasn’t getting any younger, so I cracked the seal. The whiskey probably went for a hundred bucks a bottle but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about pouring myself a stiff drink. Nor the next one.
CHAPTER 15 - HOUSEWARMING GIFT
I woke up with a well-earned hangover the next morning. My mouth felt like it had a dead aardvark in it. I looked at my watch. It was just past 7 A.M., which meant I only slept about four hours. Resisting the temptation to roll over, I put on some running clothes, then went to the kitchen and drank some orange juice, which gave me heartburn but restored some much needed electrolytes. I headed out the door and ran the perimeter of the property under the watchful eyes of farm animals who undoubtedly thought I was nuts. I know I did. My gun kept digging painfully into my waist and I constantly had to shift it. But running without a weapon was no longer a viable option. Of course, I knew that a sniper with a telescopic scope would make my precautions moot. But it would take a pretty good shot to hit a moving target. I thought about zigging and zagging, but didn’t want to look ridiculous. That kind of maneuver may work for ships trying to avoid U-Boats; a hung-over runner would probably break an ankle.
The first part of my run was excruciating. I started sweating and grunting like a professional women’s tennis player. My tongue was dry and my eyes burned. I was sore in places I didn’t know I had places. I began to root for a good sniper. But I soon got into a rhythm and my body began to purge the previous night’s 90-proof poisons. I circumnavigated the property twice but still wanted more, so I headed down the path that led into the woods behind the old well that Lucas Browne never got to fix. The mist clung to the trees, giving the forest an eerie cast. The going was slippery. I estimated that I ran about a quarter of a mile before coming out to a road. A road I recognized. Clayton Turnpike. I ran along Clayton and turned back up Chandler Lane. All tolled, I’d been gone almost an hour. Physically, I felt much better and pretty good about myself as I neared the house.
Until I saw a white minivan parked in front.
Someone was sitting in one of the rockers on the porch. I took out my gun as a man stood up.
“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Maks Kalugin said, picking up a small duffel bag next to the rocker. “Where am I sleeping?”
***
We sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. Maks hadn’t said more than two words since we entered the house.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Arman sent me. Alice called him.”
“I told her that I didn’t need any help.”
“You always need help. But I didn’t come to help you. I want to find out who shot Gunner.”
“It was only a couple of pellets, Maks. Barely broke the fur.”
“Alice also said that you might do something stupid, as if that would be the first time. What do you want me to do?”
I knew Maks. The subtext was “who do you want me to kill?” It was useless to argue with him. If he had to, Maks would sooner kill me than let me turn down his and Arman’s offer of help, especially if it was prompted by a request from Alice. And the more I thought about it, having the Rahm family’s pet assassin watching my back probably wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Eventually, of course, I’d have to figure out how to rein him in. To Maks, the slight wounding of a Russian puppy was cause for eliminating half the adult males below the Mason-Dixon Line. I pointed down the hall.
“You can take the first bedroom on the right.”
He grunted and picked up his duffel.
“You travel light,” I said.
“Weapons are in the van.”
Anything and everything up to an anti-tank gun, I assumed.
“Whose van is it?”
“I rented it at the airport. Vans sometimes come in handy in my line of work.”
“How did you get the weapons through security?”
“Arman arranged a private jet. Enough with the 20 fucking questions!”
He unzipped the duffel and brought out two bottles of Kalashnikov Vodka. They bore the visage of the Hero of the Soviet Union who designed the AK-47 assault rifle.
“Housewarming gift,” Maks said, with a frosty smile.
He went back outside and returned with four large shopping bags and started unloading a wide assortment of eggs, meats, cheeses, sausages, vegetables, loaves of thick black bread, condiments and some items I didn’t recognize. As he filled cabinets and the refrigerator he looked at me.
“Walmart,” he said.
“You know, Maks, there are several good restaurants in town.”
“People get shot in restaurants.” Another cold smile. “Occasionally by me. I’ll cook. Make yourself useful and put on some more coffee. Then tell me what kind of fucked-up situation you are involved in while I prepare zavtrak. Alice gave Arman only the bare details.”
Zavtrak is the Russian name for breakfast, and I knew my recently cleansed arteries were about to be clogged again. Sure enough, he soon piled my plate with heaps of eggs, sausage, cold cuts, cheese and bread.
“I think I’ll let them just shoot me,” I said.
I told him everything during the delicious meal. He listened, ate and grunted occasionally. When I finished, I started to clean up.
“Leave it,” Maks said. “Go take a shower. You smell like a dead raccoon.”
When I got back to the kitchen, Maks was at the stove and the only smells were the sweet pungent odors of Russian cooking.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Beef stroganoff, Chicken Kiev, stuffed cabbage and blini.”
“Why are you making so much?”
“Who do you think I am? Martha Fucking Stewart. I’m not cooking every night for you. We will have leftovers that will last us a few days.”
My cell phone beeped. It was Evelyn Rogers.
“I heard what happened. And Laurene Robillard called me. She asked me to give you any help I can. Although I don’t know what that would be.”
I thought about it.
“I’m probably going to be pretty busy the next few days. I’m not a farmer. Without Lucas this place will go to seed pretty quickly. I’m concerned about the animals.”
“That, I can help with,” Rogers said. “I can get a kid out there tomorrow for sure. Can you manage until then?”
“Sure,” I said, although I wasn’t all that sure.
I hung up and looked at Kalugin.
“I don’t suppose you know anything about a farm.”
Maks snorted.
“I was raised on a kolkhoz farm collective in Magnitogorsk. Go put on some work clothes.”
“I just took a shower.”
“Hurry up.”
We s
pent much of the rest of the day doing farm work, breaking only for lunch. To be fair, Maks did most of the heavy lifting, and seemed to enjoy it. We fed horses and cows, mucked out the stable, collected eggs, mowed grass and did all sorts of things new to me. I knew I would never again complain about my yard work back home. When we finally finished we both needed a shower. But my head was clear and I felt I’d earned a good dinner, which I got, along with a couple of vodkas I could have done without. But one doesn’t eat with a Russian without drinking vodka. We finished up with some strong coffee that Maks insisted on brewing. I could have spread it on a blini it was so thick. But it negated the vodka.
After dinner, I called Chief Deerly-Johnson for an update.
“The coroner, Blaloch, released Lucas Browne’s body. To himself, basically. He’s handling the funeral arrangements at his own place. The wake starts tonight. I hear he’s donating his services to the family. The father is out of work and the family doesn’t have much in the way of money.”
“Blaloch probably feels guilty,” I said. “I’m sure he’d rather be laying me out.”
“You don’t know he had anything to do with anything, Rhode. Watch what you say.”
After I hung up I told Maks what the Chief said.
“This is one fucked up town,” he observed.
CHAPTER 16 - FAMILY
I felt I had to attend the wake for Lucas Browne. The boy died in my stead. I didn’t know what the police told his family, but I wanted to face them. I thought Maks would disapprove, on security grounds, but he surprised me.
“I don’t think anyone will try to kill you in a funeral home,” he said. “And you owe it to the boy. It would be nice to see Blaloch’s reaction when he sees you.”
We drove in my Toyota rental. The Blaloch Home for Funerals was on Main Street in downtown Atlas. Outside on the street Chief Deerly-Johnson and a cop I didn’t know were directing traffic. There were cones in front of the driveway leading to what I assumed was a parking lot in the rear of the funeral home. When the Chief saw me she waved me over and said something to the cop, who moved the cone. Then she got in the back seat.
THE ELSON LEGACY (Alton Rhode Mysteries Book 6) Page 9