A Burned Out Baker: Classic Diner Mystery #7 (The Classic Diner Mysteries)
Page 17
“We just wanted to let you know that we’ve just about caught our killer,” Moose said.
That got Mike’s attention. “How did you manage to do that?”
Moose explained his trap, and the murder victim’s brother looked a little troubled by my grandfather’s explanation. “What makes you think you’ll be able to identify the arsonist if you can’t see who it is now?”
“My friend has some specialized equipment that can light the dark up like it’s daytime.”
“You know, whoever torched your truck might not have killed Barry,” Mike said.
“What are the odds of that? It would be too much of a coincidence otherwise,” I said.
“Maybe so. Well, good luck. I have to get back to work.”
After we left his place, I asked Moose, “What do you think?”
“Too soon to say,” my grandfather replied. “Let’s move on to Sandy.”
We found her waiting tables, but she was due for a break, and she reluctantly agreed to spend part of it talking to us.
Before Moose could tell her his cover story, she said, “Sorry to hear about your truck.”
“How did you know about that already?” he asked her.
“The fire chief came by this morning, and I overheard him talking about it.”
“Well, it might not have been in vain,” my grandfather said, and then he told her the story we’d agreed on.
“I don’t know,” Sandy said. “It sounds kind of iffy to me.”
“My friend is confident that once he works his magic tonight, we’ll be able to see who burned up my truck.”
“Maybe,” Sandy said, and then she glanced at her watch. “Listen, my break is almost over. I have to get back to work.”
“That was less than a spectacular result, too,” I said as we headed to the business where our last suspect was.
“I know,” Moose said with a frown. “No one seems all that interested in our story. This might just turn out to be one big bust after all.”
“At least we’ve got one more trap to set. Who knows? Maybe this one will be the winner.”
It wasn’t.
Rob Bester barely spoke three words to us before he dismissed us out of hand. He was too busy to be bothered with our promises that the killer would soon be caught, and he barely took the time to listen to the details of our elaborate plan before he walked off.
“What now?” I asked my grandfather. It was clear that the idea, though not without merit, had pretty much failed to arouse anyone’s sense of guilt, suspicion, or fear of being caught.
“What do you think? We need to go to my place and start watching that garden shed. At least we’ll be able to do it from the kitchen table. It’s about as comfortable a place to sit and watch for hours that I can think of.”
“How long do we give it?” I asked.
“At least four hours,” Moose said as he glanced at his watch, “or until we catch someone.”
An hour later, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.
I answered my phone, and Sheriff Croft identified himself immediately. He sounded triumphant as he explained, “Just thought you should know. We got him.”
“Who are you talking about?” I asked him.
“Mike Jackson,” he answered. “Something must have spooked him today, because he drained Barry’s account and then tried to take off. After one of my officers caught him speeding, we got a warrant and searched his house and his garage.”
“Did you have any luck?”
“Absolutely. We found two identical cans of gasoline that were used in the bakery fire, and both of them were full to the top. At least he didn’t get a chance to use those, too. I wonder why he ran?”
“Maybe Moose and I had something to do with that,” I said.
“What are you talking about, Victoria?”
I explained our plan to him, and after a moment or two, the sheriff said, “That’s not bad. It looks like you made him run.”
“When did you catch him?” I asked.
“Just a few minutes ago, as a matter of fact.”
“Has he confessed to killing his brother and torching the bakery?” I asked.
“No, he’s demanding to see a lawyer. He won’t say a word to us,” the sheriff said.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s guilty, though.”
“Why else would he run?”
“I don’t know. You’re probably right,” I said.
“Trust me, he did it, and it’s just going to be a matter of time before we can prove it. In the meantime, we’re holding him on the speeding violation. You and your grandfather helped out a lot on this case, Victoria.”
“It doesn’t feel like we did much of anything,” I admitted.
“You found the main source of evidence, and you goaded the killer into panicking. That sounds like an awful lot to me. Maybe you didn’t participate in the arrest, but you can’t have everything. At least now you should sleep better at night.”
“Thanks for calling,” I said.
“I just thought you had a right to know,” he said. “I’m going into the interrogation room right now, so my phone will be turned off, just so you know.”
After I caught Moose up on what the sheriff had told me, I asked him, “What do you think? Did Mike really kill his own brother for money?”
“It sure sounds like it,” Moose said as he stood and stretched. “I guess we should get you back to work so I can collect my wife.”
“I guess we should,” I said.
I walked out the door to Moose’s truck, with my grandfather right behind me.
We didn’t make it, though.
“Stop right where you are. I’m going to need that DVD before your friend sees it,” the killer said as he pointed a gun at my grandfather and me, and I wondered if this was going to be the end of us.
Chapter 18
“Take it easy, Rob,” Moose said as he glanced over at me. “There’s no need to do anything rash.”
“You know what? You don’t get to tell me to do anything, Moose,” Rob said. “I can’t afford to have you show that evidence to the police. I’m just glad that it wasn’t being digitally recorded. I would be in jail by now if it were.”
I was about to confess that there wasn’t a DVD, but Moose answered before I could. “It’s in the garden shed,” he said. “Let me go get it for you.”
Moose took a step toward the shed when Rob said, “Stop right where you are, unless you want me to shoot your precious granddaughter.”
That got Moose’s attention, and he stopped dead in his tracks. “I’m not going anywhere. Listen, without the DVD, we don’t have any proof that you torched my truck, or killed Barry Jackson. Once you have that, there’s no need to kill anybody else.”
“What am I supposed to do, take your word for that?” Rob asked. “If Mike finds out that I’m the one who killed his brother, he’ll never sell the lot to me.”
“Mike’s in jail right now himself,” I blurted out.
Rob looked at me. “Mike? Why?”
“The police think that he killed Barry, not you,” I said.
Rob frowned. “That was a backup plan that I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to use.”
Moose asked him, “What good did it do for you to frame Mike if you needed him to sell you that land? You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?”
“The cops weren’t meant to find that gasoline,” Rob said. “I just wanted to show Mike that if he didn’t behave, he might be next.”
“Behave in what way?” I asked.
“That was the beauty of it all,” Rob said, clearly admiring his own work. “He still doesn’t know that I’m behind everything that’s been happening lately. I suppose they got the note, too?”
“What note are you talking about?” I asked.
“Don’t worry, they’ll find it soon enough,” Rob said.
“Why don’t you enlighten us?” Moose asked as I saw him take a slow step toward Rob.
“Wouldn’t that tell him that you were the one who did it?” I asked.
“Selling the land to me wasn’t the only thing on the list of demands. I told him that he had to pay Cliff back what his brother owed him, and find a way to help Sandy get over his brother, or he’d die the same way.”
“Cliff hasn’t been a suspect in the police’s eyes for quite a while,” I said.
Rob shrugged. “Who cares? It was just meant to divert suspicion away from me, and evidently it worked.”
“Is that why Mike ran today?” I asked.
“Probably,” Rob said with a chuckle. “After he got my note and found the gas cans in his garage, I can’t really blame him for panicking, though I should have seen that coming. I was threatening him, plain and simple. I never thought about making him my scapegoat, but I like it. If he’s convicted, that land will be auctioned off, so I’ll just buy it then.”
“How do we fit into your little plan?” I asked. “I’ve spoken with the sheriff about him arresting Mike, so he’ll know that Barry’s brother didn’t kill us.”
Rob frowned. “Who’s to say that he didn’t have an accomplice?”
“Like you?” Moose asked. “Is that really smart?”
“Stop saying that!” Rob was clearly getting rattled by Moose’s comments. Was my grandfather just being ornery, or was there method to his madness? Maybe if he got Rob upset, he wouldn’t think straight, and we could use it to our advantage.
Then again, it might get us both killed sooner, and in much worse ways.
I wasn’t thrilled with the gamble that my grandfather was taking, but now that he had, I had to back him one hundred percent. “He’s right, Rob,” I said, adding a little twist to my own words. “Nobody with any sense at all would hurt us now. If you let us go, it’s your word against ours, but if you do something to either one of us, the law is going to come crashing down on you like a house made of stone.”
He didn’t like that. “Shut up, Victoria! I need to think!”
Moose wouldn’t let up, though. “How long do you think you’ve got before someone sees us together out here? The clock’s ticking, Robbie Boy. You’d better make up your mind quickly.”
Rob Bester looked wildly around, and I thought about jumping at him since I was closer, but Moose must have had the same idea. As my grandfather started to move, Rob lashed out and grabbed my arm, jerking me closer to the gun he was holding in his other hand. “Don’t do it, Moose! I’m warning you!”
My grandfather held his hands up high in the air. “I’m not doing a thing, Rob. Just let the girl go. That’s all that I ask.”
He didn’t though, and instead pulled me closer to him. “Do you want to die today, Moose?”
“No, not particularly,” my grandfather admitted.
“Let me ask you something, then. Which would be worse, me putting a bullet in you, or your granddaughter?”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you shoot me and leave her alone,” my grandfather said without hesitation. I hoped with all of my heart that it didn’t come to that, but I was proud of his request nonetheless.
“How about if you don’t shoot anybody,” I said. “Let me go get the DVD for you, and then you can decide.”
“You’re staying right where you are,” Rob said as he jammed the gun into my ribs.
“Ow, that hurt!” I said.
“It’s going to hurt a lot more if I pull the trigger,” Rob said. “Moose, you go get it. I’m warning you. If you try anything funny, she’s going to die before you can ever get to me.”
“I won’t do anything but what you ask,” Moose said woodenly. It sounded as though my grandfather had lost his fighting spirit with my life in jeopardy.
I wasn’t about to give up, though.
I stared at my grandfather as he looked my way, and I nodded slightly, blinking as I did so. I just hoped he realized that I was telling him not to waste this opportunity to fight back. Sure, I might die in the process, but there was a possibility that at least he could get away. If he gave Rob the dummy DVD, we were both dead, so why not take a chance that at least one of us might live through this?
Moose started to go into the garden shed when Rob stopped him. “Not so fast. Take out your cell phone, and put it on the ground.”
“What makes you think I have one on me?” Moose asked.
Rob jabbed me harder in the ribs, a move that caught me by surprise. I gasped as it dug in, and without another word, Moose pulled out his phone and did as he was told.
“Good boy,” Rob said. “Now smash it with your foot.”
Moose frowned for a moment, but he did as he was told, and the phone was rendered useless.
“Now go do what you’re supposed to, and nothing more,” the killer commanded. It was clear that he was enjoying ordering us around.
As Moose disappeared inside, I asked Rob, “Why the hard push for Barry’s land, anyway? Do you want to expand so much that you’d kill for the opportunity?”
“You still don’t get it, do you?”
“Tell me,” I said, hoping to distract him enough for Moose to make his play.
“None of it was my idea,” Rob said, spitting the words out as though they caused him pain. “From the beginning, good old Cliff has been pulling my strings.”
“What?” I asked, clearly surprised by the statement despite my predicament.
“You and your crime-solving grandfather didn’t think of that, did you?”
“If Cliff wanted Barry to sell you the land, why didn’t he just make him do it?”
“He tried,” Rob said, “but Barry wouldn’t follow instructions. Cliff got tough with him, and when I found Barry in the bakery that morning, he was already beaten up pretty thoroughly.”
“But he wasn’t dead yet, was he?” I asked.
“Who can say that he wouldn’t have died eventually from the beating? I just sped things along, that’s all. Barry was never going to cave in to Cliff, and I needed the loan shark off my back. The only way I was going to do that was to take care of Barry myself.”
“Why the fire, though?” Had Moose frozen in the shed trying to decide what to do next? No, knowing my grandfather, he was still trying to come up with a plan to save us both.
I just hoped that he hurried.
“What better way to torch a bakery? I was going to burn the place to the ground to change Barry’s mind, but when I found him inside, he was barely able to hold his own head up after the beating he took. In the end, it just seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“And you did that all because Cliff told you to?” I asked. What was keeping Moose? I was running out of ways to distract Rob short of directly attacking him, and that wasn’t really an option, given the fact that he was holding the gun on me.
“Why wouldn’t I? We’d be square then, and I could go back to running my own life. Moose was right, by the way. I was just bluffing about my grandfather leaving me any money. It was going to be Cliff’s cash all along. He was going to use my operation as some kind of drug distribution center.” Evidently Rob had had enough of waiting for my grandfather, and my distractions hadn’t worked after all. He called out loudly, “Moose, you’ve got ten seconds to come out with that DVD, or I’m shooting Victoria, and then I’m coming in after it myself.”
“I’m right here,” Moose said as he emerged from the shed. He was cupping the DVD in his hand in an odd way, keeping it flat as though it were some sort of offering. As far as I could see, there were no weapons anywhere on him.
It appeared that the counterattack was going to be up to me.
I braced myself to move quickly, knowing that Rob would have to pull the gun from my side or release me to take the DVD from Moose.
Either way, we still had a chance, but I had
to time it perfectly.
Moose got within two steps of us both, and I noticed that something was on top of the DVD.
Before Rob could see it, I jerked a little, bringing his attention back to me.
“Stop squirming, Victoria,” he said as he looked over at me, easing his grip just a little bit.
Moose acted then, blowing the substance on top of the DVD directly into Rob’s face. The killer screamed as he clawed at his eyes with one hand, the gun still clutched in the other, and I jerked away from him as I stomped down on his foot. I was wearing tennis shoes, but it still caught him off guard, and he finally dropped the gun.
I went for it, but not before Moose knocked me away and got it himself.
“Get down on the ground, Rob,” Moose ordered.
“The lye blinded me! My eyes are on fire!” he said, whimpering in pain.
“Victoria, get him some water,” Moose ordered. “There’s a bucket by the shed.”
I started to go toward the water when I heard something behind me.
Evidently Rob wasn’t nearly as blind as he’d claimed to be.
When I looked back, I saw my grandfather and him locked in combat for control of the gun. While Moose was as strong as most men in their prime, Rob was evidently a little stronger.
And the bad guy was clearly winning.
Rushing over and reaching inside the shed, I pulled out a pitchfork, the first thing I could get my hands on. Racing back to the men, I circled around to get a clear strike at Rob when he finally wrestled the gun out of my grandfather’s hands.
The look of triumph on his face lasted only an instant as I stabbed him with the pitchfork, embedding it directly into the arm that had just moments ago been holding a gun.
Rob screamed in pain as he dropped the gun and tried to free his arm from the garden-tool-turned-weapon, and I picked the handgun up and pointed it straight at his heart.
“Pull it out!” he screamed as he tried to pry the pitchfork out with his good hand.
Moose started to move forward, but I put a hand on his arm.
“He’s not faking this time, Victoria,” my grandfather said.