by Jason Deas
“He does?”
“He sure does. I’d say from where it hangs in his house that it’s his favorite.”
Nina’s face eased. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”
“No. I think you’re human.”
“Thank you.”
“Can we talk about something else that might not be such an easy subject for either of us?” Benny asked.
“We don’t have to,” Nina answered. “I already heard that she’s back in town.”
“Oh. Yes, she is.”
“If she hadn’t come home do you think something might have happened between us?” Nina asked, turning red.
“It was a definite possibility.”
Benny touched her lightly on the shoulder.
“Will you still help me with something,” he asked.
“What?”
“I would like you to meet me down at the station tomorrow to look at the paintings we found that are connected to the murders. I want you to look at them and tell me if you know who did them.”
“OK.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to tell?”
“If I know the artist who did them, I’ll be able to tell. I have an eye for it. You can count on that.”
“Thanks. I’m going to stop in to see Uncle Karl on my way out.”
“Good luck with that. He’s in a really bad mood today. The ice cream truck didn’t come this morning.”
“Uh oh,” Benny said, leaving the room.
As Benny walked toward the front door he could hear footsteps scurrying around overhead. Dust floated in the air and he noticed small pieces of debris and paint peelings on the battered hardwood. He wondered what the roofers were going to find when they ripped off the shingles.
“You think they’re going to fall through?” Angel asked, startling him.
“I was just wondering that. I hope your mom has enough money. I have a feeling the roofers are going to have to replace a lot more than just shingles. I bet a lot of the boards under there are rotten too.”
“She does. Did she tell you the good news?”
Benny wanted to answer yes in case he said no and she wouldn’t tell him.
“Well, she won’t mind me telling you. She sold a giant stack of canvases. Cash. I bet she had fifteen thousand dollars in her purse yesterday.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah, and she’s rounding up some more today and painting more as fast as she can. Maybe we can finally get this place back to the way it used to be.”
“That would be nice. I’m going to pay a visit to Uncle Karl before I head out.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Angel warned.
“I already heard that the ice cream truck didn’t come this morning and he’s in a pretty foul mood.”
“You’ve been warned.”
Benny knocked on Uncle Karl’s studio door.
“What?” Uncle Karl screamed.
Benny opened the door and peeked inside.
“It’s your friend, Benny.”
“Nobody’s my friend today. How can a man be pleasant when he didn’t have any ice cream for breakfast?”
“I somehow do it every day.”
“I’m not in the mood for your funny business.” Uncle Karl spit on the ground.
“Can I ask why he didn’t come?”
“Suspended.”
“He got suspended from school?”
“Are you dense?”
“I guess so. Explain it to me.”
“The ice cream truck has a giant cooler on it that gets filled up with drinks every morning. It’s the biggest cooler you’ve ever seen. I bet I could get in there and take a nap.”
Benny’s eyes widened and he tried to hide his increased interest in the topic.
“I love naps,” Uncle Karl said. A pleasant air began to descend upon him before he remembered he was too angry to be filled with happy thoughts. He kicked a metal stool that screeched across the hard floor and toppled over. “But then you wake up and you don’t know if it’s morning or night or what day is.”
“Can we get back to the cooler you were telling me about? What happened to it?”
“It got stolen off the truck. Big E thinks the kid had something to do with it. Like he sold it or something. Nobody wants the job so he didn’t want to fire him. So he suspended him for two days trying to show the kid who’s the boss.”
Benny knew he shouldn’t have, but he asked, “I thought you owned the truck?”
“Well, well, Big E’s the manager and I have to stand behind my people.” Uncle Karl’s eyes danced back and forth in his head.
“That makes sense,” Benny lied. “Who do you think stole the cooler?”
“Probably a fisherman or a hunter. But I’m too mad to talk about it.”
“Do you know where the kid lives?”
“I’m too mad to talk any more today.”
“I’ll take you into town and buy you as much ice cream as you want if you can show me where he lives.”
“Let’s go. I’m talking again.” The pleasant air that a moment before had been chased away came back in an instant and splashed across Uncle Karl’s face.
Benny wondered if Uncle Karl was going to hang his head out the car window like a dog.
Chapter 21
As Ned read through the notebook he’d been keeping on his pain threshold experiment he heard a car coming down the driveway. He assumed it was Benny and stuck the notebook under the couch. He didn’t want Benny to get the idea he was thinking of restarting his study now that he was rested and feeling better. Ned felt as though he had learned a great deal about his body’s tolerance, and it would be a shame if the information was all for nothing.
When the car stopped outside, Ned heard two doors shut and decided Red must have come along with Benny. When he heard the voices outside he knew it was neither of them.
Big E and Paul stepped over the two stairs leading to the front door and pounded. From the noise, Ned knew it was not going to be a friendly visit.
Ned began to pull on the door and just as he cracked it open the two men pushed him back into the room. As Big E continued walking, he forced Ned back into the house. Paul shut and locked the door.
In the living room Big E instructed Ned to sit. Ned sat.
“We hear you’re a computer whiz,” Big E started.
Ned had an idea.
“What?” Ned asked. “No, hello, thanks for inviting us into your home, what’s your name?”
“You being smart with me?”
“Didn’t you just say I was smart?” Ned said smiling. “No you didn’t, you actually called me a whiz, so I guess I’m not being smart with you, I’m being a whiz with you.”
“Does this guy know who you are?” Paul asked. “You want me to show him we’re not here to mess around?”
“Is your girlfriend going to hit me?” Ned said waving his fingers at Paul with a provocative gesture.
Big E backhanded Ned across the face. “No, I am.”
Ned tried not to show his pleasure with the situation.
“You have meaty hands. Kind of felt like I was just hit with a ham. I’ve never actually been hit with a ham, but I bet if feels a lot like your meaty hands.”
Big E and Paul looked at each other quizzically.
“You sure we got the right guy?” Paul asked Big E.
“Yeah, this is the right guy. He must be trying some sort of reverse psychology or mind tricks on us or something.”
“He doesn’t even know what we want.”
“What do you bitches want?”
Big E sucker punched him in the nose. Blood started in a steady stream over Ned’s lip, down his chin, and into his lap.
“We need a favor.”
“Well when you ask so nicely, how could I refuse?”
Big E pulled his hand back again and Ned winced.
“I think he’s starting to get the message,” Paul said.
“No,” Ned said. “I’ve just swo
rn off pork, so I don’t want ham-hands to put his swine laden hands near my mouth again.”
Big E kicked him in the shin.
“That’s better,” Ned gasped as he bent over in pain.
Big E tossed a list of numbers into Ned’s lap.
“Here’s what you’re going to do for me.”
“What makes you think I’d do anything for you sweethearts?”
Big E pulled his arm back. Paul stopped him.
“Tell him about the money,” Paul said.
“If you can get these numbers changed so they’re legitimate, I’ll pay you twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“What kind of numbers are they?” Ned asked.
“Hull identification numbers.”
“Stolen boats, huh?” Ned asked.
“Let’s just say they’ve been misplaced. Can you get into state and federal databases?”
“Does the Pope wear a funny hat?”
“Then I’ll leave the details up to you to figure out.”
“What makes you think I won’t go to the cops?”
Big E reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun. He placed the barrel against Ned’s forehead and pulled the trigger.
“Because if I ever do that again, I swear to God the gun will have bullets in it.”
“You’ve made your point loud and clear.”
Big E noticed the laptop that Benny had dropped off for Ned sitting on a table. He balled his fist and hammered it in the middle. The top cracked, a table leg broke, and the laptop hit the ground as the keyboard spit letters across the floor.
Big E and Paul let themselves out.
As soon as Ned heard the car pull away he looked down at the pool of urine at his feet. His legs shook as he bent over and pulled his notebook out from under the couch. With a trembling hand he began making annotations.
Uncle Karl pointed the way to the house where the kid who drove the ice cream truck lived. He had an ice cream treat in each hand, and Benny had promised him he would stop by another gas station on the way home to get him two more.
The kid’s Camaro was parked in the driveway. Benny patted his pants pocket. Benny had stopped by the bank and withdrew enough cash for the kid to make one Camaro payment with a little left over. He was ready to call in his favor.
The kid’s mother sat in the empty carport smoking a cigarette.
“Good morning,” Benny said, approaching. Uncle Karl had asked to stay in the Jeep so he could listen to the static in between the radio stations. He said he sometimes heard instructions through the noise. Benny didn’t ask what kind of instructions he heard nor did he care.
“Ah Jesus and Mary,” the mother said. “What did he do now?”
“He didn’t do anything.”
“You look like a cop or something. Am I wrong?”
“I’m a private detective working with the Tilley Police Department.”
“So he did do something wrong,” she said, extinguishing one cigarette and lighting another.
“No. I just need to ask him a few questions about a cooler that was stolen off the ice cream truck. It should only take a few minutes.”
“He’s in his room, back of the house.” The kid’s mother waved Benny inside.
Walking toward the back of the house Benny heard the kid’s loud voice and stopped.
“Die you rat bastard! Take that! Die!”
Benny sprinted to the back and kicked the door open which had been cracked. The kid jumped out of his chair away from the door and toppled over a small table taking a lamp and a stack of compact discs with him to the floor.
Benny noticed he had been playing a shoot-‘em-up video game.
“Whoops,” Benny said. “They say those games aren’t good for you, and I think we’ve just proved that here.”
“What the hell?” the kid said, pulling himself up off the floor. “You scared the piss out of me.”
“You were screaming ‘die, take that, die,’” Benny tried.
“Yeah, it’s called a video game.”
“I didn’t grow up with those. We played outside in the real world.” Benny picked the lamp up and set it back on the table after he repositioned it. He tried to turn it on, but it didn’t work. “I owe you one light bulb.”
The kid restacked the compact discs. “I already told everybody that I didn’t steal that stupid cooler.”
“What makes you think I care about that?”
“You’re a cop aren’t you?”
“Sort of. Who told you that?”
“Angel Oglethorpe. She said you’re investigating the murders in town and that you think her Uncle might be responsible.”
“I don’t think that anymore. I do want to hear what you know about the cooler being stolen.”
“Why does everybody care so much about a stupid cooler?”
“Because whoever stole it, put a dead body in it and left it at a gas station in town.” The details were being released later in the day to the media so Benny didn’t mind dishing them out to the kid a few hours early. He watched for a reaction.
“Oh my God. It has my fingerprints on it. Am I going to be arrested?”
“Did you kill anybody?”
“No!”
“Then, no.” Benny cupped his hands over his face and rolled his eyes. Benny dropped his hands. “Who do you think might have stolen the cooler?”
“I have no idea. Mr. Frederickson lets me park the truck here at night sometimes. And it was here the night the cooler was stolen. That is true.”
“Do any of your friends know you park the truck here at night?”
“I have three friends and none of them would steal anything or kill somebody. No way.”
“What about your customers? Do any of your customers know where you live?”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“I can prove that you are,” Benny said.
“OK. Then prove it.”
“Open the blinds and look out the window. Look at my Jeep and see who is in the passenger seat.”
The kid walked across the room and pulled the string that raised the blinds.
“Oh yeah,” he said seeing Uncle Karl. “Now I remember. I was sick one day a few weeks ago and his sister, Ms. Oglethorpe drove him over here because she said he was having a fit. I imagine he was pretty pissed this morning when I didn’t show up.”
“Yes he was. Can you think of any other customers who might know where you live?”
The kid thought.
“No,” he finally said.
“Fine,” Benny said pulling the envelope stuffed with cash out of his pocket. “I’m ready to call in that favor I asked you about earlier.”
The kid eyed the full envelope.
“Is that really a full car payment?”
“And then some. Let’s just say I’m replacing the light bulb I was responsible for breaking. You could probably make your car payment and buy fifty or sixty light bulbs with the remainder of the money.”
The kid started to grab the money and stopped.
“What do I have to do?”
“All you have to do is make one phone call and tell a couple of harmless lies.”
“I’ll do it.”
“I’m going to bring Uncle Karl home, and I’ll be back this afternoon.
“I’ll be ready.”
Benny handed the kid the envelope.
Chapter 22
Benny met Rachael at Rene’s for lunch. The place was hopping with media and locals as it had become the center point of the story. The walls were bare of the usual art as it had all been bought by various collectors and curious people wanting to cash in on the bizarre situation.
Rachael was greeted like a celebrity as she hugged and shook hands with a dozen or so people outside the café. The story had gained national attention. In similar fashion to the previous chapter in Tilley’s notorious appearance on the national stage it was being followed like a soap opera. The v
arious media outlets had sent their stars and Rachael knew them all. She made sure to tell them all about the news conference she had scheduled for seven o’clock.
Rene greeted them at the door. She was on high with the attention and the money that was pouring through the door.
“Welcome back, Rachael.” Rene gave her a hug. “There’s just something about this town that won’t let you leave. I ditched Italy for this place.”
“There certainly is. I think it’s the people,” Rachael said, pointing to Benny playfully.
“He’s all right,” Rene joked.
“A spot just opened by the front window,” Rene said. “Are you expecting anybody else?”
“No,” Benny answered. “It’s just us. Is Angel working?”
“She is.”
“I would like Rachael to meet her. Can she wait on us?”
“This is actually her table today.”
“Perfect.”
Benny and Rachael slid into the booth. He grabbed her hand across the table and squeezed.
“I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Me too. It feels right. London felt wrong from the start. I can’t even begin to tell you where my head was.”
“You don’t have to,” Benny said squeezing her hand once more and letting go.
“Thanks.”
Angel approached their table.
“Hello.” She placed menus in front of each of them.
“Hi, Angel,” Benny said. “This is my friend, Rachael.”
Rachael extended her hand and the two girls shook.
“I’ve seen you on television, and I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you’re even prettier in person.”
“Thank you, Angel. You wouldn’t believe the amount of makeup I had to have on my face for television. It was ridiculous. I always felt so fake.”
“Mr. James has been really nice to my family,” Angel offered. “You’re lucky to have him.” Angel winked at Benny and he turned a slight shade of red.
“That’s enough girl talk for now,” Benny cut in. “You two can talk makeup and boys at another occasion.”
The girls laughed.
“Why don’t we start today with a couple of gin and tonics,” Rachael suggested.
“As they say, it’s five o’clock somewhere,” Benny said giving a thumb’s up.
“I’ll be right back,” Angel said.