Murder by Kindness

by Barbara Graham

  Mrs. Dixon led the way with a black and white dog at her side. The spotted canine of unknown heritage had floppy, black ears and a jaunty black tail curved up over its mostly black back. The tip of the tail was white. Behind her came Boston, not with Mouse, his shepherd, but leading a dun-colored dog with a stripe of black along his spine. After Boston came Kenneth Proffitt with a large red and white spaniel, and bringing up the rear was young Dillon Teffeteller with a medium-size shepherd mix.

  “That’s quite a dog parade,” said Wade. “Mrs. Dixon is giving all of them a good workout and something positive to do with their lives.”

  “Are you talking about the men or the dogs?”

  “Both. Mrs. Dixon is clearly no stranger to training either or both of them. I’ll bet they’re all too exhausted by dinner to do much more than eat and sleep.”

  Mrs. Dixon was an attractive fortyish woman with prematurely gray hair. She approached Tony’s car, and pointed toward the back of the fire engine. “It’s just past there.”

  Lacking a better place to park, Tony and Wade left their vehicles where they were and headed in toward the fire engine on foot. “Can you four stay here for a little bit? I’d like to talk to you.”

  Mrs. Dixon said yes and none of the men attempted to correct her. They nodded in almost perfect unison. The dogs sat at attention, apparently willing to remain there for an extended period of time.

  Tony and Wade made the short hike to the fire department vehicle in only a couple of minutes. Fire Chief Cox pointed to a small pile of burnt wood and wet ashes. Mixed in was some copper tubing and shattered glass. “Another still.”

  “What do you think?” Tony feared that one of these fires was going to burn out of control and destroy homes and forests. “Is this someone’s idea of an anti-alcohol campaign or someone cutting down on the moonshine competition?”

  “I don’t know.” The chief left a smudge of soot on his chin as he rubbed it. “It’s crazy either way. The stills so far have been very small like this one and Orvan Lundy’s. Not much competition.”

  Tony returned to Mrs. Dixon and her tribe. “Did you see anyone?”

  “Yes. Someone was hustling away from the fire area and into those woods on the right.” She pointed to a gap in the trees. “I couldn’t say if it was a man or a woman.” Mrs. Dixon spoke, and the three men’s heads bobbed their agreement. “I’d say fiftyish, with curly, blond hair under an orange ball cap. Maybe five and a half feet tall, a hundred and seventy pounds. Was wearing a tan canvas jacket and jeans.”

  After making note of everything she’d said, Tony looked at each man in turn. “Did you see anything else, anything different?”

  Boston nodded. “Sunglasses.”

  “Was this person carrying anything?” Tony didn’t want to offer any suggestions that might incorrectly influence his information.

  Four solemn faces were turned toward him. Four heads shook in denial.

  Tony thanked them for their help, and he and Wade made their way back to the scene of the fire. The dog trainers’ description of the person did not ring any bells. It didn’t make any sense, though. Who would come into a county and not only know the location of the stills but be prepared to blow them up? The only thing that made any sense to him was someone trying to knock off the competition.

  “Wade, I believe you have some inside contact with one of the local distillers of not quite fine alcohol. I’d like you to ask around and see if there are rumors of a takeover or a new bigger operation.”

  “At least that would make sense.” Wade stared at the charred rubble. “What other reason could there be? Somebody either is totally against alcohol for personal reasons or is trying to corner the market.”

  “The description certainly doesn’t fit any of the local legal liquor providers.”

  “How does Mouse like the new dog?” Having followed the group back to the veterinarian’s home, Tony stood with Boston, watching the trainee dog play with the German shepherd war veteran.

  “I think Mouse finds it amusing to watch me and the squirt do our training.” Boston’s voice was soft, but the shepherd’s ears pricked up. “Mouse isn’t young anymore and generally enjoys his routine of sleep, eat, sleep, exercise and more sleep. When I’m working with the squirt, he’s usually dozing with one eye open.”

  “He doesn’t offer advice?”

  “Not to me.” Boston’s whole face lit up in a true smile, maybe the first one Tony had witnessed on the man. “One time Mouse told the squirt to go back to work.”

  “How did he do that?” Tony didn’t doubt it happened.

  “Mouse just lifted one eyelid and then showed a couple of teeth as he cleared his throat.”

  “Very effective, I presume.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Boston grinned. “They play together. It’s amazing. When either of them is training or working, it’s like a switch gets flipped. Neither one seems to have trouble with the changes.”

  “And you?” Tony liked to blame his late father for his inborn desire to make things right, or at least better. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t part of his actual job description. “Are you enjoying the training?”

  Without their customary shadows, Boston’s eyes sparkled and he nodded.

  Tony needed no other answer. Months earlier when Boston first showed up in Silersville, his eyes had held only loss, confusion and anger. Maybe the younger man would never be again whatever his former self had been but today, at this moment, he was happy. It was a vast improvement. Tony remembered his dad had always liked to say, “Today’s the only day we have, so use it wisely.”

  “What is the other dog’s name?” Tony returned his attention to the trainee.

  “Squirt,” Boston said. At the sound of his name, Squirt turned to look at Boston.

  Tony grinned. Surprised. “That’s really his name? I thought it was a description. What have you trained him to do so far?”

  Boston looked thoughtful. “First, I had to train him not to fear me. These dogs we’re working with have all been rescued from someplace. Then, some of the basics, you know, come, sit and stay.”

  Tony thought of their family dog. Daisy could come and sit but she wasn’t good at staying. “And what’s next in their training?”

  “We’ll teach them to pick up things, you know, like a dropped pencil. And fetch the cell phone. Flip a light switch.” Boston’s voice grew soft. “And just be there in the dark.”

  Tony had heard very similar words to describe Marmot-the-varmint’s reason for searching for an internet bride. Loneliness.

  “Sheriff?” Rex’s voice on the radio sounded angry rather than his normal calm. “A neighbor called to ask someone to go out and check on Old Nem. Something about vandals and his chickens.”

  Tony was already halfway there so he headed out the road toward Old Nem’s farm. He found the old egg man standing by the side of the road not far from his farmhouse. Nem was wheezing and trembling as he stood there. One hand was pressed to his heart and the other rested on a dented mailbox on a post. Tony stopped, flipping his lights to flash and climbed out.

  Poor Old Nem was shaking so violently, the mailbox was moving. Tony was shocked by the old man’s expression.

  “Sheriff?” The questioning sound of Nem’s voice sounded as though he wasn’t quite sure he recognized Tony.

  Tony hurried closer so he could check on the old man. “What’s wrong?” Tony wondered if he should help the old man into his vehicle to sit.

  “Them devil kids.”

  Fury replaced Tony’s concern. Not at Nem. Without any details, Tony knew exactly who Nem meant. Karl’s Bad, a smart aleck, over-rich, under-disciplined young movie star, had been causing problems for Tony’s department for a couple of weeks. It felt longer. The “star” was living in a rented cabin during a film shoot. His personal security staff almost outnumbered Tony’s whole department, including the jail staff, Ruth Ann and the cook, Daffodil. With the exception of the bodyguard named Bear, the star’s entourage
was just a pack of thugs. “What did they do, Nem?”

  “They was a-tryin’ to run over Miss Elizabeth with one of them four-wheeled motorbikes.”

  “Where was this?” Tony knew Miss Elizabeth. The vintage speckled hen liked to wander about looking for tasty bits. It wasn’t unusual for her to investigate trash tossed from a passing car. Tony hoped she hadn’t been in the middle of the county road. With Miss Elizabeth’s penchant for jaywalking, it was amazing the old hen was still alive.

  “She was right there.” Nem pointed toward a field. His whole arm shook. “In my corn field. They was a-chasin’ her back and forth and laughin’ like crazy people.”

  Tony felt a surge of glorious satisfaction. The corn field was definitely private property and the owner, Nem, had been an eyewitness. Surely they would be able to charge Karl’s Bad, the wonder boy, with trespassing and destruction of personal property. Their prosecutor, Archie Campbell, would probably love to prosecute the young movie idol, if for no other reason than getting his own face in the newspaper. Tony called for Wade to join him. “Bring your camera and gear. We’re going to make some tire impressions.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Once they started looking for him, it didn’t take Tony and Wade long to locate the visiting movie star. Karl’s Bad stood proudly next to a bright blue, souped-up, four-wheel-drive vehicle. It even had his face painted on the hood in silver and black. Subtle.

  Tony pretended to admire the vehicle and spotted some corn stalks caught up on the front end. He took a picture with his cell phone. “So this belongs to you?”

  “Yeah. It’s all mine, and no one else is allowed to touch it.” The proud owner ran his hand over the roll bar as if petting a dog. “It was custom made, just for me.”

  Tony snapped a few more photographs. Then he talked into the recorder, mentioning the date and time and had the star say he understood that Tony was recording everything. Tony used his most professional voice. “I’m investigating a case of vandalism, trespassing and animal cruelty. Would you like to come with me on your own or in handcuffs?”

  The star shrieked into the microphone, “I know what you’re up to.” The steady stream of profanity and angry words pouring from the young man didn’t abate.

  Tony hoped the battery was fully charged. The brat had a lot to say.

  “You think you can frame me? My publicist will have a field day. By the time he’s through with you, you won’t be able to get a job picking up poop after the dogs at the pound.”

  The star lost the last semblance of control and lunged toward Tony with a long blade that looked like a machete that he grabbed out of a sheath in the ATV. Tony kicked the star’s right leg out from under him and watched him land in a heap.

  Wade stepped in and fastened handcuffs around the celebrity’s wrists, neatly pinning them behind his back. Karl’s Bad swore but Wade just let the angry words cascade over him. Nothing the wonder boy said apparently bothered him at all. In fact, it looked like Wade rather enjoyed it. It meant the little pervert was scared.

  Bear, the bodyguard, stood off to one side near an expensive sedan. The big man held his empty hands away from his body. He was smiling.

  There was no doubt that the movie star would be back on the road before Tony and Wade could finish their paperwork. Tony didn’t care. He wanted every infraction documented. He had plenty to keep him busy, but a busy schedule couldn’t be his excuse for allowing anyone, local or visitor, to destroy private property and threaten citizens. There was no doubt in his mind that the movie star would think little more of running over Old Nem than he would Miss Elizabeth. It was only by chance he hadn’t already done so.

  After hearing both bad things about him, especially from Tony, and a few starstruck comments in his favor, Theo finally got to meet Karl’s Bad, the Wonder Kid. She didn’t think it was an apt description. Theo found him less than wonderful and, at twenty-one, not quite a kid either.

  Karl’s Bad had long brown hair, blunt cut and hanging past his shoulders, but at least it was clean and shiny. In every picture and every time she’d seen him in town, it was always parted on the left, even when he wore it in a ponytail. Another “always” was the ear bud he had in his left ear—presumably he spent his day listening to something important, either a phone call or a message from his manager. His skin was pale pink and although a nice blue, there was a vacancy in his eyes Theo knew Tony found disturbing because he’d tried to describe it to her. Theo thought the young man could’ve been a store mannequin for all the normal expressions he possessed. Tony had told Theo he had seen rage and then nothing but emptiness. She believed him.

  Theo thought if the young man smiled, he could possibly be cute in a genderless way. It was not exactly Tony’s style. Comparing the two of them made Theo laugh out loud. She didn’t see a muscle on Karl’s Bad anywhere, just scrawny arms and legs and big ears sticking through strands of brown hair.

  A few wispy whiskers sprouted on his chin and above his upper lip. The average middle-aged woman could grow a better beard than he could. Theo had never seen one of his movies and couldn’t help wondering if he looked better on the big screen. It was hard to imagine he would be even mildly impressive, even if his target audience was young girls. It was also hard to imagine he was capable of memorizing and delivering words in a script. Clearly his talents were wasted on her.

  Theo wasn’t sure if his lack of appeal was because he really had none, or if it was because she was too old at almost forty to see the gifts he was purported to have.

  One of Tony’s deputies, Darren Holt, was stepfather to drop-dead gorgeous teenager Karissa Sligar, now officially adopted, with her last name changed to Holt. Tony had always found the girl to be intelligent and grounded in reality. When she babysat for his kids, she was both popular and in control.

  When the young movie star invited Karissa to a party, she had refused, albeit a bit reluctantly, and then she told Darren, who told Sheila, who told Tony. Karl’s Bad, the wonder boy, had suggested to Karissa there would be drugs and alcohol for everyone who came to the party, and she should bring a few of her girlfriends along. But only the good-looking ones.

  Concerned about the situation, Tony and Sheila met with Karissa at her mother’s salon. Prudence had called and asked him to stop by. “Now my daughter has changed her mind and wants to go to the party. She’s been reinvited.” Prudence sounded angry and frightened. “Please talk her out of it. I don’t trust any of them. They’re like rats.”

  Working on being in Prudence’s good graces, Tony had practiced and no longer called the Klip ’n’ Kurl a beauty parlor, or at least not all the time. He liked to prove his ability to learn, at least when it suited him. “Karissa, what made you think you could get yourself re-invited to the party?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. He gave me a number to call when I was ready for an adventure.” The teenager rolled her eyes. “So I called.”

  “An adventure?” Tony repeated. He could imagine the allure of a youthful celebrity to a young person. “That sounds like more than a party. Have you heard of other girls from your school being invited?”

  “Kind of. There’s been some talk, but my closest friends don’t have the required looks. You know what he said?” Karissa’s voice rose with each word. “He said he couldn’t afford to be seen with any substandard girls. By his standard. Like suddenly he’s God?”

  “If you don’t like him or trust him, why go?” Tony knew Karissa was a star in the school drama program. She wasn’t a good enough actress to keep him from believing she had a plan. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’ll go to the dumb party and act all impressed.” She fluffed her hair. “Sheila can fix me up with a wire and you can arrest him if he offers me some drugs. I saw something just like it on television last night. It gave me the idea.”

  “Television?” Tony felt out of step.

  “I will not.” Sheila jumped in. “You don’t know what you’re suggesting. It’s not a good idea.”
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  Karissa’s lower lip jutted out and anger lit her lovely eyes. “I don’t like him or his friends, or the way they act like everyone who lives in Park County is a dumb hick who never saw a real movie star before, and all the girls should be grateful of his and his posse’s notice.”

  Tony shook his head. “No. You can’t do it. It would be unprofessional on my part to allow you to go where we can’t protect you, and just plain dumb on yours to consider it.”

  “With or without a wire, I’m going.” Karissa’s chin stuck out. “His chauffeur is picking me up after dinner. I’ll be fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” Prudence grasped her daughter’s arm. “It’s crazy and dangerous.”

  “You can’t stop me.” Karissa tossed her head.

  “Don’t try me.” Prudence leaned closer. “I didn’t win the arm-wrestling championship because I’m a ninety-pound weakling, and I’ll bet Darren will loan me some handcuffs. I’ll lock you in your room.”

  Tony was wondering whether he’d have to arrest Prudence or Karissa.

  Sheila whispered in the quiet created by the mother and daughter trying to stare each other down, “I’ll go instead.” She smiled. “We’re about the same size so I can wear one of your outfits, and if your mom does her hair and makeup magic on me, I doubt they’ll notice. At least not right away. All those illegal substances really alter reality, and I’ll bet they keep it pretty dark.”

  Darren was talking to Sheila’s back. “We’ll be sure and keep you in our sights.”

  Sheila’s response was a quick glance up at Darren and a nod. She was not smiling.

  “I don’t like this.” Tony wondered if they were rushing into danger. “You can’t wear your vest under a teenager’s party dress. There’s just no place to put it.”

  “I know.”

  “Sheila, if there is any problem, or you feel at all uncomfortable, get out. Or run to the bodyguard named Bear.” Tony could only hope letting her go to the party wasn’t going to be a monumental error in judgment.