Smoke and Mirrors wm-4

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Smoke and Mirrors wm-4 Page 10

by John Ramsey Miller


  Brad patted her shoulder but she drew back. “Can I do anything?”

  “No. She’ll come home dragging her tail and I’ll yell at her. She’s just like her father in some ways.”

  Winter saw the look of concern on Alexa’s face.

  “This thing with Sherry. It’s got all of us crazy. It’s Cyn’s way of trying to hold on to normalcy and dealing with grief. Except for my father, nobody close to her has ever died,” Leigh went on.

  “I can start running her down,” Brad said. “Get the Memphis PD to locate her.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it,” Leigh said, straightening. “You know as well as I do that this is just like her. There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

  Brad nodded.

  She picked up her coffee but didn’t drink from the cup. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about me being the target, and all I could think of is that if I had been killed, my children would not be able to continue my operation. And since their father has proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t boil water in hell on their behalf, they would have to sell the land to ensure their futures. Jacob would not receive anything if I died, and I can’t imagine he could have hired a professional killer.”

  “Okay,” Brad said. “But he would be their guardian.”

  “I have made arrangements for my attorney to handle my estate, and to handle my children’s financial interests if I die.”

  “Jacob would fight that, and he is their father,” Brad said.

  “This is very personal,” she said crisply, finally taking a sip. “If Jacob fights my will, my attorney has certain papers that prove he is as crooked as a wisteria trunk.” She patted the side of her cheek and frowned.

  “That’s fairly common knowledge,” Brad said.

  “Anyway, although I certainly don’t believe Jacob hired a hit man, I may have some idea why someone shot Sherry. A few years ago I once again paid off a collection of Jacob’s debts, and I made him sign over some land he inherited from his father. I paid him three times what it was worth because it was the only collateral he had. Six hundred and thirty-six acres of bottomland that isn’t good for a damn thing except duck hunting, which is what Jacob’s father and then Jacob used it for. I made him a loan secured with that property and when he didn’t repay me or make any attempt to do so, I foreclosed on it, figuring I’d leave it to the children, since it was the only way to ensure he would leave any legacy, even if I paid for it.”

  She took another sip of her coffee. “A few months ago Jacob mentioned that he wanted to buy it back from me. I told him to go piss up a pole. Since then, he has become more and more insistent, whining that it was his sole inheritance from his father, and he wanted it back. His father actually left him a small fortune that he went through in a matter of months. When I pressed him, he said he wanted to duck hunt on it and I said he could shoot ducks there until there wasn’t one left on the face of the earth, but I’d never sell it to him under any circumstances.”

  “You don’t think it’s sentimental?” Winter asked.

  “Jacob is as sentimental as a hungry possum. I told him that he’d had ample opportunity to pay me off, and didn’t, and if his children wanted to sell it to him after I was gone, fine. But I said as long as I had air in my lungs, I was keeping it.”

  “And he dropped it?” Brad asked.

  “No. He didn’t. Last night he told me that some corporation was interested in buying it for four hundred thousand with a plan to turn it into a duck-hunting club along with the land around it, saying I could use the profit to make things right with Sherry’s family.”

  “So,” Winter said, “do you think it’s possible Jacob hired someone to kill you?”

  A look of concern crossed her features. “It’s more likely the potential buyer would. Mr. Massey, did you know Tunica before the gambling joints came here?”

  “I know it was the poorest county in the state.”

  “It’s the richest now,” Brad added.

  Leigh continued, “Which made it the poorest county in the country. You know what’s happened around here since those casinos came in? We’ve gotten the absolute dregs of humanity, political corruption, crooked cops and highway patrolmen. The last sheriff and deputies were caught protecting drug dealers-and there’s been all sorts of rumors about people not getting the money they won and being threatened by employees of the casinos when they made waves. In exchange we get cheap license plates, new schools, low taxes, paved roads, and a fancy golf course for visitors. It’s been a deal with the devil.”

  “Do you think mobsters are interested in your land?” Winter asked.

  “That land is worth zip.”

  “Is it near the other casinos?” Winter asked.

  “Not at all,” she said. “Way south of them. The improvements they’ve made for the casinos have caused even more flooding down there than there was before. But Jacob Gardner would sell the gold out of our children’s teeth and blow the money before their gums quit bleeding.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Brad said. “Where is Jacob now?”

  “He stayed at my house last night. He’ll sleep until sometime this afternoon.”

  “More coffee, Leigh?” Brad asked.

  “Can’t do it. I have to stay busy, and I’ve got plenty of work to do.” Leigh stood and started for the front of the house. “By the way, some press people have been on the road this morning filming the house. And one of your prowl cars is obviously tailing me.”

  Brad shook his head. “I meant to tell you. We thought it was a good idea to have deputies watching you and the kids until we get this solved. I’m sorry for any inconvenience, but it’s something Winter and I felt was necessary.”

  “You decided to have me followed without telling me,” Leigh said, frowning.

  “You can’t be too careful. I think it’s absolutely necessary, since we have no idea who we’re dealing with,” Alexa lied.

  “Then you can tell them to follow closer, because I’m afraid if they miss a light and run through it someone might be killed,” Leigh said.

  “Not much I can do about the press,” Brad said. “As long as they don’t trespass.”

  “‘Not much I can do’ seems to be your mantra,” she said. “Finish your Wheaties. I’ll show myself out.”

  After Leigh left, Brad said, “Cyn’s always doing this.”

  “But with everything that’s happened…” Alexa said.

  “Cyn is…well, she more or less has to be the center of attention,” Brad said. “I’ll put through a description of her car, and make sure the Memphis police get it. Leigh is right. She’s done this ‘meeting a friend’ thing since she was fifteen or so.”

  Winter could see that Brad was troubled, and offered the only reassurance he could think of. “Well, she did send that text message, at least.”

  34

  Alexa volunteered to go to the courthouse to check the records on the parcels surrounding Leigh’s land while Brad and Winter drove out to Six Oaks to interview Jacob Gardner.

  Estelle opened the door and looked out, smiling broadly. “Brad Barnett again! I remember back to a time when every time I opened this door you was standing right where you standing now.”

  “Any word from Cynthia?” Brad asked Estelle.

  “Lordy. That child! All the advantages she has and she shows her butt like she do. She is unresponsible and always has been. I told her a million times that proper young girls don’t chase after boys like she do, but do she listen? No.” Estelle shook her head sadly. “People gone think she a loose woman who don’t have a heart, the way she torture her mama. Miss Leigh ain’t home.”

  “We’re here to see Jacob.”

  “Come on in. He’s layin’ up in the guest room bed like he the king of the world. He wakes up, he gone commence to ringing that little bell.” Estelle stepped aside. “Like having a invalid in the house.”

  “Thanks, Estelle. I know the way,” Brad said, stepping into
the entrance, Winter shadowing him up the wide stairway.

  Without knocking, Brad opened the door to the guest bedroom. The interior was made cave dark by thick curtains. As Brad flipped on the light, Winter was treated to the sight of Jacob Gardner lying on his back with his mouth open, the bed linen twisted around his feet like a binding. His comb-over stuck straight up, flying from his head like a flag. On the nightstand sat an almost empty bottle of Glen Salen and a glass partly filled with light brown water.

  “Rise and shine, Jacob!” Brad hollered.

  Like a doll, Jacob’s eyes rolled open, and he stared up at the ceiling for a solid three count. He then sat bolt upright and looked at Brad and then Winter before gathering the sheets to cover himself. He tamped down his brown hair and blinked rapidly.

  “What the hell are you doing barging in here?” Jacob asked.

  “Investigating a murder,” Brad said.

  “In my room?” Jacob said.

  “At the moment, yes,” Brad replied, opening the curtains to let in daylight. He sat in a chair beside the bed and indicated that Winter should take the fabric-covered chaise lounge. “We need to ask you some questions.”

  “How about you do it after I get showered and dressed?”

  “How about we do it now,” Brad countered. “That way you can go back to sleep when we leave.”

  “Christ,” Jacob said, lying back down and rubbing his eyes. “My head is killing me.”

  “If it does, I guess I’ll have three deaths to investigate.”

  “So ask your questions,” Jacob said, looking over at Winter.

  “Sherry was killed accidentally,” Brad said.

  “Damned poachers,” Jacob said. “Shooting wild. Jesus, it’s terrible. How the hell are you going to catch the bastard?”

  “No, the shooter was a professional killer. I have reason to believe that Leigh was his actual target, and Sherry looked enough like her in the hooded coat for him to assume she was Leigh. He obviously didn’t know Leigh was out of town.”

  “How the hell can you know that? You caught the bastard?”

  “Not yet,” Brad said. “But we’re closing in on him.”

  “It sounds like wishful thinking,” Jacob said. “Why do you think anybody would try to kill my wife?”

  “Ex-wife,” Brad corrected.

  Jacob rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “What would be the motive?”

  “Money.”

  “In case you don’t know it, only the kids would gain from her death. Maybe they’re behind it. I’d look close at Hamp. He’d kill to have the money to buy a genuine beaver fur top hat.”

  “Nonetheless, I can’t rule you out,” Brad said.

  Jacob looked at Brad like he was an idiot. “Me? And how would I profit from Leigh’s death? Leigh has it fixed so if she dies, I’m left twisting in the wind. Not that I don’t deserve it. I’ve made some mistakes. My life is an open book, Barnett. Her death would be a lose/lose situation for me. And when Sherry was shot I was in bed in Memphis with a former Miss Tennessee, whose number I will happily furnish.” He grinned.

  “The bottomland Leigh bought from you comes to mind as a motive.”

  Jacob frowned, but his eyes reflected the fires of concern. “She owns it outright, in case she didn’t tell you that when she told you about it.”

  “Why do you want it?”

  “It’s been in my family since eighteen ninety.”

  “It’s still in your family.”

  “Well, not exactly. I mean, yes, it is. But a man who doesn’t own land is a second-class citizen. And in case it has escaped your astute powers of deduction, if I wanted to piss in a pot, I’d have to borrow one from my ex-wife. And odds are my bladder would explode while I was waiting for her to mull it over.”

  “I can’t figure out how a man without means can afford to buy worthless land for hundreds of thousands over value. Leigh would expect hard cash,” Brad pressed.

  “I can use the land as collateral,” Jacob said quickly.

  “No offense, but based on your track record, you’d probably lose it to the bank or whoever loaned you the money. I understand a corporation wanted it for a duck club,” Brad said.

  “She did tell you about it. Well, one has expressed interest, and mentioned a figure,” Jacob said. “And maybe I could sell to said corporation for even more than I offered her. Did you think of that?”

  Brad said angrily, “You should tell one story and stick to it so you won’t have to try to keep the lies straight.”

  “Gamblers might just want to shoot ducks, or hogs, or frigging bison. They’ll pay for the pleasure same as they pay for sex.” Jacob smiled as though he’d just made a closing argument that had the judge and the jury nodding.

  “I see,” Brad said. “You have big plans, as usual.”

  “I can’t believe you think I’d kill Leigh,” Jacob said. “You’re wasting my time. Of all the things I might be, I am not a killer. Like I said, I was in Memphis yesterday morning.”

  Brad shook his head. “I didn’t say you fired the shot, Jacob.”

  “Mr. Gardner,” Winter said, “do you gamble?”

  Jacob shook his head.

  Winter said, “See, if you owed money to someone, you might not be aware of that person’s plan to kill your ex-wife in order to get his hands on her land. That someone might figure if she dies you inherit enough to cover the loan. If you told someone that, you don’t have clear title, but you would if Leigh wasn’t around…”

  “No,” Jacob said. “That’s not possible. I don’t owe anybody money. I don’t gamble anymore.”

  “I’ve heard you don’t gamble any less,” Brad said.

  “I have a law background and I know how things work,” Jacob said.

  “If you are being threatened,” Winter said, “we can help. Whoever did this failed, but they may try again.”

  “If they harm Leigh, and I find out you’ve lied to us about anything, I will see that you pay,” Brad said.

  “Your affection for my ex radiates from you like sunshine, as always. That’s what this is really about. You’re white knighting to impress her by trying to make me look bad. Don’t threaten me, Barnett. You’re a sheriff, not a judge and jury.”

  “Fine,” Brad said. “And I’m glad you aren’t worried about your daughter being out of pocket.”

  “Out of pocket? Please. Cyn’s been sexually active since she discovered she was cute. If she isn’t at my mother’s, she’s shacked up with some boy.”

  “Your mother isn’t answering her phone,” Brad said.

  “She turns off the ringer.”

  “Leigh has left messages.”

  “My mother hates Leigh. If Cynthia wasn’t there, she’d call. Mama loves Cynthia.”

  “Let me know when you hear from her so we can stop worrying.”

  Jacob Gardner’s eyes relaxed and he smiled. “If that’s all,” Jacob said, lying down, “Cyn’s an adult. Cut the light off and get the hell out of my room.”

  “Tell you what. If we talk about this again, it’ll be in my room.”

  Brad walked to the door, which Winter had opened.

  “By the way,” Jacob said. “I didn’t take Leigh away from you. You threw her to me.”

  35

  As Brad and Winter entered the main drag near the courthouse, the radio came to life.

  “Sheriff, what’s your twenty?” Chief Deputy Roy Bishop’s voice crackled.

  “I’m almost at the courthouse.”

  “Me too,” Bishop said.

  “I see you,” Brad said.

  A cruiser flashed its lights ahead and pulled over on the opposite side of the wide street. Roy Bishop got out and hurried over as Brad rolled down the window. “What’s up, Roy?”

  “The damned press is driving me crazy. We have to tell them something soon.”

  “Soon,” Brad told him. “Tell them we’re getting close on the Adams murder, and as soon as we have things sorted out, we’ll let them know. You met Wi
nter last night.”

  “I did.” Roy reached over Brad to shake Winter’s hand. “Bettye said you were some kind of specialist. Welcome aboard.”

  “Winter’s a retired U.S. marshal. Grew up in Cleveland, Mississippi. He’s agreed to help us with the Adams homicide and Beals. As a personal favor.”

  The chief deputy gave Winter a quizzical look. “Wait a damn minute,” he said, his face reddening. “You’re that Winter Massey? I mean, Jesus Christ! You’re that U.S. marshal. Hell, I thought you would be taller.”

  “So did my mother,” Winter said.

  “We don’t get many murders around here,” Roy said. “Now we get two in one day. Jack Beals was a first-class prick, but he didn’t deserve to die like that. Hey, is this something bigger than it looks?”

  “Looks plenty big to me as it is,” Winter said.

  “Where’s David Scotoni?” Brad asked.

  “At the Best Western with Walters watching him. He wants to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “No problem,” Brad said. “He’s told us everything he knows. Get his phone numbers and escort him to the state line.”

  “Sure thing,” Roy said, straightening as a speeding Lincoln Navigator flew past, then made a sweeping U-turn. “Damn,” Brad said. “Go on, Roy. If you need me, use the cell. I don’t want to use the radio with the press all over the place.”

  Winter saw a red-faced man in a suit who looked like a newscaster get out of the Navigator and race toward the truck. The man maneuvered around Bishop and looked into the cab.

  “Brad,” he said.

  “Ed,” Brad said. “I want you to meet Winter Massey. Winter, this is our prosecuting attorney, Ed Moore.”

  Moore nodded at Winter. “I had a call from the head of MBI. They want in on these killings now. They said you’re blocking them so they want me to make the request. I wanted to clear it with you as a courtesy before I did it.”

  “Don’t need them,” Brad said. “This is proceeding nicely.”

  “Two homicides, Brad. Why wouldn’t you need them, for Christ’s sake?”

  “That’s why I asked Massey in. He’s a specialist in this sort of thing and has no dog in the fight. Lab assistance is all I need from the MBI for now.”

 

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