Desperate Crimes (The Bill Travis Mysteries Book 11)

by George Wier

  “A corpse,” I said.

  “ '—a dead body. Somebody already embalmed.' Are you sure you're not on an adventure?”

  “Hot damn,” I said. “Another one down.”

  “I don't know what that means,” Penny said.

  Jennifer continued brushing her teeth, watching me and listening.

  “Never mind. I was thinking out loud.”

  “Okay, I'll let you go, sir.”

  “Bye, Penny,” I said, and hung up. I fished my wallet out of the nightstand, fished through it until I found Corinth County Sheriff Delores Clayton's card, then dialed her.

  “Clayton,” she said.

  “Sheriff, this is Bill Travis.”

  “You got my message?”

  “My secretary relayed it to me just now. This is good news.”

  “No, it's still bad news. The charge is no longer mayhem, for whoever committed the act. It's now Abuse of a Corpse.”

  “I need to know something. Your deputy. The one who walked by and saw the finger in Ms. Sands's car. That was Deputy Brand, right?”

  “Yeah, that was Matt.”

  “Can you find out whether he was tipped off or not?”

  “He's not on duty today. It's his day off. But I'll call him. It's not like him leave off that kind of information.”

  “Sometimes you get a tip, and you have to promise people they won't be pulled into things before they'll give up information, right?”

  “It's been known to happen.”

  “See what you can find out, pretty please.”

  “Okay. I'll call him, see if he answers. My deputies know to turn their phone off when they're not on duty, otherwise they end up spending their lives on duty. But, who knows, we might get lucky.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  “This is your cell phone, right?”

  “It is.”

  “I'll save your number and call you back on it. When you left, you were headed for San Sebastian. Is that where you are now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Watch out for Dusty.”

  “Yes. I'll watch.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Travis.”

  “Goodbye, Sheriff. And thanks.”

  She hung up.

  Jennifer stood looking at me, her toothbrush still moving back and forth.

  “I think your teeth are clean now. Let's get cleaned up, collect Hank, and go dirty them again.”

  She nodded, sleepily, turned and went back to the bathroom.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  After collecting Hank and M.F., but before going to the Mexican Restaurant, I called up Bob Ross.

  “Bob, quick question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What businesses or interests does the Bledgrave family have here in San Sebastian, aside from the house and the hangar at the airport?”

  “Let's see,” he said. “They own the local radio station. They own a couple of storefronts that they rent out on the town square. That sort of thing.”

  I thought about it. Nothing fit, so far. “Anything else?”

  “Oh yes, there's the funeral parlor. Of the two in town, it's the bigger one, three blocks north of the courthouse.”

  Something mentally clicked into place, and I must have been wearing it on my face, because Jennifer looked up at me. “Uh oh,” she said.

  “Thanks, Bob. That's all I needed to know.”

  “Tell me,” Bob said, “are you planning an doing anything? Because sometimes when you do things, ordinary people need to get out of the road.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” I said.

  “Yes, you do. What are you going to do, Bill?”

  “It's nothing that concerns the Sheriff or Lorraine. Not directly, anyway.”

  “Uh huh. And just for the sake of curiosity, what might this indirect thing be?”

  I looked up into the rearview mirror, and saw Hank staring back at me, his brows furrowed. He'd either figured it out, or he was ticked off because he hadn't.

  “I can't tell you right now, Bob,” I said.

  “Why's that?”

  “Because. Ears.”

  “Your daughter, or that old man you're carrying around with you?”

  “Neither,” I said.

  “You think somehow you're being listened to or followed around or something?”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “Where did you want to meet?”

  “That last place you described to me,” I said.

  “I'll be there in five minutes.”

  “Uh. How about right after breakfast. The natives are restless.”

  “Okay, after breakfast. See you in an hour.”

  “See you then,” I said, and hung up.

  “Morgan wants more of those sausages, daddy,” Jennifer said.

  “That's where we're going. It's all about the ferret food, honey. Just think what life would be if you had an alligator. You'd have to feed him whole raw chickens.”

  “Yuck!”

  *****

  Breakfast went off without a hitch, including a bag of overly-cooked sausage for M.F.

  Before we backed out from the restaurant, I turned to Hank. “Can I see the phone?”

  “You mean this one?” he held up Todd Landry's cell phone.

  I nodded and he handed it over.

  I opened the back of it and removed the battery, snapped the cover back into place and handed the phone back to him. I put the battery in my pocket, and then backed out and got onto the highway.

  When we pulled into the funeral home parking lot five minutes later, Jennifer looked up and said, “What in the Sam Hill are we doing here?” At that moment, Bob Ross pulled in beside us.

  “Who taught you to say Sam Hill?” I asked.

  “You did.”

  “Okay. Well, you people know the drill. Sit tight and I'll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Jennifer asked.

  “To see if I'm right about something. And it has everything to do with your piano recital.”

  “I don't like waiting,” she said.

  “Neither do I,” Hank agreed.

  “I'm responsible for you two,” I said, and got out. “If anything happened to either one of you, Julie would kill me.”

  “I always knew that girl was partial to me,” Hank said. I closed the door.

  “Hello,” Bob said. “What are we doing here?”

  “We're going to see if somebody's hiding out here. Somebody that we've been looking for.

  “Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go.”

  *****

  I detest funeral homes even more than I do hospitals and dentist offices. The Merriwether & Crouch Funeral Home was a long, one story brick affair. Some time in the distant past the brick had been painted over with white paint, making the place almost too painful to look at in the bright morning sunlight. Bob Ross and I walked up to the plate glass double-doors, opened them and went inside. I don't know why funeral homes have to have the temperature set on a permanent sixty-five degrees. Perhaps it has something to do with...preservation. I don't know, and I don't like thinking about it, which is one of the reasons I prefer not to have to enter such places.

  I could have taken a swim in the deep nap of the carpet. We didn't so much walk as we sank across the room. A very old fellow, resplendent in a navy blue suit and an understated tie rounded the corner from the chapel. His eyes widened on seeing a uniformed officer and a complete stranger.

  “You're up, Bill,” Bob whispered.

  “Hello, is Mr. Landry in.”

  “Yes, sir. May I let him know who has come calling?”

  “We'd rather it be a surprise,” Bob said. “In fact, I insist.”

  The fellow nodded. “If you will follow me, then.”

  We followed him through the chapel, through the family viewing room and to an office, where he opened a door and stood to the side. We entered and he closed it behind us.

  Todd Landry looked up from a desk, th
e surprise on his face both obvious and priceless. He was a tall, lean man in his mid-forties with sandy-brown hair that had to be pushed back out of his eyes. I figured he grew it that way to cover his prominent forehead, which seemed to precede the rest of his face. The overall sense that I got from him was that he had to focus on taking care of himself, or he would let things go. Julie must have vetted him pretty well, or she would have never allowed him to instruct Jennifer. But I figured I knew where his weaknesses lay; his family.

  “Hi, Todd,” I said. “Jennifer has been worried sick about you, but then, you knew that.”

  “What can I arrest him for?” Bob asked.

  “Doesn't matter to me,” I said. “Whatever strikes your fancy. But, officially, I'd say you can arrest him for abuse of a corpse.”

  “Where's your proof?” Todd asked.

  “The biggest part of it is probably in the ground somewhere. We could probably get an exhumation order from a judge to start hauling bodies up out of the ground for, say, ever interment this place has done in the past week, up to three days ago.”

  “Uh huh. The finger you were talking about, right?” Bob asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said, then to Todd, “Would you care to start talking now?”

  “I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “I don't want you to tell me,” I said. “I want you to go outside, tell Jennifer, and explain to her how you either will or won't be there for her recital.”

  Todd deflated. He set his forehead down on the desk in front of him, and covered the sides of his face with his hands.

  “Anybody who would disappoint a little girl like that,” Bob said, “I don't know if they're worth shooting or not.”

  We waited while Todd Landry summoned the moral courage to look us in the eye. When he finally did, he saw two men with their arms folded across their chests.

  “Can I talk to her?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  Todd Landry stood, and we followed him outside.

  *****

  When Jennifer saw him coming, the car door flew open and she ran to him and threw her arms around him. He picked her up and hugged her, spun her around.

  “Where have you been!?” she almost shouted when he put her back down.

  Hank got out of the car and strode over.

  “I've been right here, mostly. I'm sorry, Jenn,” he said. “I had some business to conduct. I was going to call you before Sunday. I was always going to be there for you.”

  “I don't know whether to hug you or kick you,” she said. “I was so worried. I thought somebody had killed you, like the man dad shot down in his airplane. Or like that funny woman, Lorraine.”

  “They never even knew I was here. They hate this funeral home. I was the one family member who spent time here when I was growing up. It was all about that, I promise. I had to hide from them. I didn't know what else to do after Tinnie died and they came looking for me.”

  I noticed Hank rub is balled-up right fist with his left. I shook my head. No.

  “Tell her,” I said to Todd.

  “Tell me what?” Jennifer asked.

  “He's going to tell you what he did that he doesn't want to tell you.”

  Todd turned to me, and his head rolled on his shoulders. “Oh, Mr. Travis, please don't make me—”

  “Do it,” I said. “Now.”

  He pursed his lips and turned back to see Jennifer's wide and innocent eyes staring up at him. He squatted down until his head was lower than hers and he was looking up at her.

  “Jenn,” he began, slowly. “I sort of used you. And for that, I'm sorry.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “How did you use me?”

  “It wasn't just you. What I mean is, I used all of you. I used Mr. Sterling. I put the phone where he would find it, and I made sure he could. I used it to follow you. I used it to listen in on you.”

  “You mean, the whole...time?”

  “Yes, darling. And I'm sorry.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Why would you do that?”

  “It wasn't right of me to do it. And I'll understand if you're mad at me for...well, for a long time. Because I deserve that. I was afraid for my life. You have to understand, Jennifer, I'm what you call a coward. A coward doesn't want to face people. A coward runs from life, he doesn't really live it. That's what I was doing when I was following you. It's what I was doing when I put that finger in Lorraine's car and told the policeman it was there. And then I followed you back to San Sebastian and waited. I knew that your dad and Mr. Sterling would figure everything out, because, you see I didn't know who to trust. I didn't know if it was Fenner or if it was Lorraine. I have been running from those people for a long time. My family, you see, always wanted me to do whatever they wanted, not what I wanted. So, to escape them, I started calling myself 'Todd' instead of 'Sam.' Because...that's what cowards do.”

  Jennifer stood for a time, silent, looking into his face, weighing him. She couldn't know that this wasn't his test, it was hers. And I could do nothing more than stand there and allow her to be tested.

  “And you won't ever do it again?” Jennifer asked him.

  “I promise. Never again in my whole life.”

  “I don't know. Daddy always says that it's hard for a tiger to change his stripes.”

  “It is. But maybe if you'll give this tiger a chance, you'll have a chance to see for yourself whether or not he can.”

  “I missed you, Toddy,” she said.

  “I missed you too.”

  “I even learned my music for you. But I think that it's not just about me anymore, though,” she said. “I think you have to ask Hank and my dad if they're okay with you.”

  “You're right,” he said, and stood up. “Fellahs, I don't know what to say to you.”

  “There's not much you can say,” Hank said. “You were using me from Day One.”

  Todd Landry nodded. “I didn't know what else to do. You would have laughed at me about my family. You would have tried to tell me to forget about it. To get you interested, I had to disappear.” He turned to me. “And once you were on board, I knew it would get figured out. You see, Jennifer has told me about what you do, Mr. Travis. She talks about you all the time.”

  I looked at Jennifer, and she rolled her eyes for a second, then nodded.

  “You should have come to us first,” I said. “Well, I suppose it has worked out, somewhat. Fenner's in the hospital and he's going nowhere for awhile. Lorraine is at Sheriff Singletary's house, and she's plotting to steal the family fortune, somehow. And then, I suspect, she's planning to leave the Sheriff in the lurch and head back out of town. Probably back to New Mexico. I'll tell you what, Mr. Landry. Now is your chance to prove to yourself that the tiger can change his stripes.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  I turned to Bob. “Maybe the tiger needs some help.”

  “Todd Landry,” Bob said. “You are under arrest for the crime of abuse of a corpse.” He pulled out a set of handcuffs and let them hang in the air. “Will you come along with us peaceably, or will these be necessary?”

  “I'll come along,” he said. “Where are we going?”

  “To bring this all to a close,” I said. I turned to Hank, who was still massaging his hand. I could tell he sorely wanted to punch Todd Landry in the face. As far as I was concerned, he could, except that I didn't want him to do it in front of Jennifer. It almost made me laugh. Hank's timing was terrible.

  “Hank, could you take Jennifer back to the hotel. If we're not back by noon, let the desk clerk know that she can charge us for another night.” I fished my keys out of my pocket and handed them to him.

  Bob Ross led Todd to his county cruiser, opened the back door and motioned for him to get inside. When he closed it, the tiger was in his cage.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We drove over to Sheriff Singletary's house, Todd in the back seat, and me riding shotgun—that is to say, there was a real twelve gauge shotgun
propped up in the front seat, resting against the cage, its business end pointed up at the roof. It looked to be a Remington riot gun—holding nine shells, if you include a chambered round. I didn't think it would be needed for this gig, however. Or, at least I hoped.

  We pulled up Sheriff Singletary's long and narrow dirt driveway. We had gotten a drenching the night before, and the landscape had soaked it up and green foliage was popping out all over.

  “You okay?” I asked Todd.

  “No.”

  “Good,” I said.

  We pulled up in front of the house, and I noted the Sheriff's vehicle was there. Bob and I got out. I opened the rear door for Todd, and together we walked up the front steps, with me forcing Todd to walk in front of me. Instead of using the doorbell, Bob rapped on the door three times.

  There was a muffled grunt from inside and the door opened a few inches.

  “What is it, Bob?” he asked.

  I stepped into view.

  “Oh. You were supposed to be gone back to Austin. Why are you still here?”

  “To settle things,” I replied. “Get Lorraine. We have someone here she'll want to see.”

  “His eyes widened, and he threw the door back. In his other hand was a silver revolver, the mate for Bob's .44 magnum.”

  “Do you really need that thing, boss?” Bob asked.

  “Maybe so and maybe not. This is my house, and I can do whatever the hell I please. Get in here, all three of you.”

  “We're not coming in,” I said, “until you put the gun down. I like to feel welcome.”

  Dusty Singletary slowly lowered his gun. He took a step to the right and I heard the thump and rattle of the gun on something wooden. He reappeared with his hands empty.

  “Now, you three get in here.”

  *****

  “Lorraine!” Dusty shouted. “Get out here!”

  We stood in the living room and waited. A door opened down the long hall from the living room toward the rear of the house. Lorraine Sands appeared in the hallway and walked toward us. She wore a revealing halter-top that bared a good deal of cleavage and her midriff. Below that she wore a pair of form-fitting khaki shorts, neatly pressed. Her legs were waxed and tanned. She wore pink lipstick and make-up.