Death Crashes the Party

by Vickie Fee

  Dave shut off the engine and twisted to face us, while keeping watch out the passenger window for any sign of Ralph. “You’re sure there was someone else with Ralph, that he wasn’t just talking to himself or maybe talking on his cell phone?”

  “No. I definitely heard a different voice say, ‘I’ll look upstairs’ and ‘Find anything?’ He was in the kitchen, so his voice was muffled. But Ralph, at one point, was standing right outside the bathroom where I was hiding. You know the Newsoms? Their car alarm went off, thank God, and startled Ralph and the other guy. They left in a hurry.”

  “Maybe the other guy was Bobo,” Di offered.

  “No. The one person I know it isn’t is Bobo,” Dave said. “The Feds have had him in custody since about six this evening.”

  “Do you think they intended to hurt Liv? With Ralph making those sly threats at the hospital . . . ,” Di said.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t think they thought anyone was at home, since there were no cars in the garage. By the way, Liv, where is your car? And where’s Larry Joe?”

  “We left his truck at the hospital and went to dinner together in my car. He dropped me off at the house and drove my car back to the hospital. His mom was going to drive herself home in his truck.”

  “Did his dad take a turn for the worse?” Di asked.

  “No. He’s better, but he’s ornery. He won’t call the nurses’ station for help getting to the bathroom, and he almost fell this afternoon. We didn’t trust him enough to leave him on his own.”

  Headlights suddenly bathed Dave’s truck cab in light as a vehicle swung into Ralph’s driveway. We instinctively shrank into the shadows, remaining motionless until the light was extinguished. Dave reached for his cell phone instead of the radio, I supposed to avoid alerting anyone who might be monitoring a police scanner.

  “Ted, looks like our man just arrived home.” After a pause, he added, “Roger that.”

  Looking at Di and me, Dave said, “Ted’s just pulling into the neighborhood. No matter what happens, you two stay here with the doors locked. If anybody approaches the truck, you lay on the horn to let me know.”

  Dave got out of the truck, walked through the neighbor’s yard, and leapt over the low picket fence separating the yard from Ralph’s.

  Di and I each reached out and simultaneously slapped the door locks on the passenger- and driver-side doors. Normally, being told to stay put would have raised my hackles, but I was still very much in “hide behind the shower curtain” mode after the ordeal at the house. Going out to look for trouble, like breaking into Ray Franklin’s camper or stalking strangers in a karaoke bar, is much more within my comfort zone than having someone violate the sanctuary of my own home.

  We hunkered down on the seat, huddled together, and silently watched the action unfold.

  Ted, who must have parked down the block, walked up to the side of the house from the next-door neighbor’s yard. Dave signaled to him from the backyard. Then Ted walked around the house to the front door, while Dave positioned himself beside the back door.

  In a matter of seconds, Ralph came running out the back door. Dave grabbed him by the collar and shoved him down onto the grass. Ted rushed from the front yard and fastened handcuffs on Ralph’s wrists as Dave held him down. The two lawmen grabbed Ralph by his upper arms and helped him up to a standing position. Ted pulled the cruiser into the driveway, and Dave placed Ralph in the back of it.

  Dave walked back to the truck, and Di unlocked the door. Neither of us had spoken a word through Ralph’s entire capture and arrest.

  “Di, if you don’t mind, go ahead and drive my truck to the police station. I’m going to take a look inside Ralph’s truck and house. Ted will come back here to get me after he puts Ralph in a cell. Liv, I’m going to get you to sign an official complaint against Ralph, identifying him as the man who broke into your house.”

  We both nodded, and Di slid over behind the steering wheel.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Ralph was in custody. But I still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that whoever it was that had been with him in my house was still on the loose.

  On the drive to the station, Di told me she thought I’d better spend the night at her place. I was grateful, especially since there was no way I was going to spend the night in my own house alone.

  “Thanks, Di. I’ll take you up on the offer. But why don’t you just drop me at the police station and head on home? I’m sure Ted or Dave can run me over to your place after I’ve finished up. There’s no reason you shouldn’t try to get some sleep. I can let myself in and crash on the sofa.”

  “Naw. I’ll just hang out at the station with you. I’m too wound up to sleep, anyway.”

  “Thanks,” I said, giving Di a weary smile and feeling thankful to have such a good friend.

  “You know you’re going to have to tell Larry Joe all about the security tapes and the break-in now.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I’m not going to the hospital tonight. No need to wake him up, and I certainly don’t want to upset Daddy Wayne. Can you drop me off at the hospital first thing in the morning?”

  “Of course. Since I don’t have to work tomorrow, I’ll even sit with Mr. McKay until Miss Betty gets to the hospital, if you need me to.”

  Apparently, Dave had told Terry, the dispatcher, we were coming. She offered us coffee and told us we were welcome to wait in the sheriff’s office. More telling, she didn’t ask us what we were doing there.

  Cops must like their coffee extra strong. Three packets of creamer made mine barely tolerable.

  “Now that we know it couldn’t have been Bobo in the house with Ralph, who do you think it was, if you had to guess?” Di asked as she sat in the sheriff’s chair, with her feet propped on his desk.

  “I don’t know. Maybe Rudy, the mechanic. I don’t think he’s much of a talker. And if they’re both mixed up in this drug-smuggling deal, I could see him tagging along as Ralph’s little helper for a break-in.”

  “By the way, I talked to Dave on the phone after I got home from the karaoke,” Di said. “He knows who Brad is and said he’d do a bit of digging into what he’s been up to.”

  “Good,” I said. “Even if Brad didn’t kill the Farrells, which he certainly seems capable of doing, he’s a walking menace.”

  We were too tired to make idle conversation, so there was a silent hiatus. Di retrieved a file from her purse and worked on her nails and I sipped on muddy coffee and wondered how I was going to tell Larry Joe about everything.

  Our respective soul-searching and grooming activities were interrupted when Dave walked in and plopped down in the chair next to me. Di didn’t offer to move, and he didn’t ask her to. Hmm.

  “Well,” Dave said, “the computer was sitting on the floorboard of Ralph’s truck, in plain sight.”

  “Liv thinks it might have been Rudy who broke into her place with Ralph.”

  “I’m afraid that’s another dead end. I told you we’ve been keeping an eye on Rudy. He was supposed to be going to Nashville with a group of friends for a concert tonight. Andy, a friend of mine on the Nashville force, does a little moonlighting as a security guard for events at Bridgestone Arena. I called and gave him the seat number on Rudy’s ticket, which one of our informants had sneaked a peek at, and asked Andy to e-mail me a photo of who was sitting there. I just wanted to make sure Rudy was where he was supposed to be—and he was.”

  “I can’t believe our two best suspects have alibis—from cops no less,” I said, feeling defeated.

  “Liv, think carefully. What time did you first hear the intruders in the house?” Dave asked.

  “When I clicked off the TV, the clock read a couple of minutes before eleven. It was less than five minutes later when I heard the kitchen door opening.”

  “Okay, then. I think it’s about time I had a talk with Mr. Ralph Harvey, who’s been fingerprinted and left sitting in a cell to stew since we brought him in. It’s not ex
actly standard procedure, but since you two are already up to your necks in this business, I’m going to put you in the room next to the interview room and let you listen and watch through the two-way mirror. Don’t say a word, don’t interrupt the interview, and I’ll talk to you after I’m done with Ralph.”

  A few moments later Di and I were in a dark room, seated on blue vinyl chairs with metal frames, just like the ones in Dave’s office. Through a large picture window, we had a full view of the interrogation room, the same one where Dave had grilled Di and me after catching us in Ray’s camper.

  Ralph waddled awkwardly into the interview room, wearing shackles and handcuffs, with Dave right behind him.

  “You really think these damn chains are necessary?” Ralph said, looking like a monkey peeved enough to fling poo. “And, by the way, am I being charged with anything, or is this just harassment?”

  Dave took his time, sitting down, shuffling some papers, and clearing his throat, before answering Ralph.

  “The shackles are because you tried to evade the police when we came to your house earlier. And, yes, I have enough evidence to charge you with a crime. Now, I have a few questions to ask you. Why don’t you start by telling me what you were doing in Larry Joe and Liv McKay’s house tonight and why you took their computer?”

  “I wasn’t in the McKays’ house, and I didn’t steal their computer. Somebody put that computer in my truck, and I didn’t know who it belonged to until you told me just now.”

  I shot up out of my chair and charged to the two-way mirror. “He’s a lying son of a—”

  “Liv, be quiet,” Di whispered loudly. “Remember what Dave said.” She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to my chair.

  “But he’s just a—”

  “I know, I know. Just let Dave do his job.”

  “Well, that’s a new one,” Dave continued. “Are people in the habit of putting stolen computers in your truck without your permission?”

  “No, sir. This is the first time.”

  “Who do you think put this computer in your truck?”

  “I have no idea who put it there or why.”

  “Why didn’t you report ‘finding’ this computer to the police? Is it your birthday?”

  “I planned to take it to the police station and turn it in first thing in the morning.”

  “Is that why your fingerprints were all over it?”

  Ralph paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re right, Sheriff. I shouldn’t have touched it. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just that it surprised me to find it there, and I was taking a closer look at it. I really did plan to turn it over to the police. That’s why I left it in my truck. If I’d stolen it, don’t you think I would’ve taken it in the house with me?” Ralph leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face.

  “Where were you tonight while you weren’t in the McKays’ house, stealing their computer?”

  “I ate supper with my mama at her house. We watched a bit of TV, and then I helped her into bed.”

  “What time did you leave your mother’s house?”

  “A little after ten. Then I drove over to Rascal’s and had a few beers. I guess I got there about ten fifteen.”

  “What time did you leave the bar?”

  “About eleven thirty. That’s when I came out and found the computer in my truck.”

  “Are you sure about the time?”

  “Yes, sir. The late-night talk show on the TV in the bar had just gone off before I left.”

  “Did you see or talk to anybody you knew at Rascal’s? Can anybody vouch for you being there?”

  “Well, Wally, the bartender, of course. I s’pose he’d remember my being there tonight. And I talked a little with Ray Franklin. I’m sure he’d remember me.”

  “How do you know Ray Franklin? When did you two meet?”

  Ralph suddenly looked a little nervous. His eyes darted around the room. “I don’t rightly remember when we first met. It might have been at the bar or at one of those Civil War reenactment shows. Anyhow, you know how it is in a small town. Everybody pretty much knows everybody else.”

  “Yeah, I know how it is. Did you talk to anybody else at Rascal’s besides Ray and the bartender?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t remember seeing anybody else I know.”

  “That’s kind of odd, don’t you think? Seeing how this is a small town and all, where everybody knows everybody else.”

  Dave stood, left the interview room, and came into the room where Di and I were sitting. I was so mad, my face was on fire.

  I jumped up and opened my mouth to speak, but before any sound came out, Dave threw his hands up and said, “Calm down. I know he’s lying, but that doesn’t help us much.”

  Dave explained that Ted had gone back to my house to dust for fingerprints.

  “But I don’t expect to find any,” he added. “He’d be a moron if he didn’t wear gloves, and he seems pretty confident there’s nothing in the house that could incriminate him.”

  “Aren’t you going to check his alibi?” I asked.

  “Of course. But don’t expect much help there,” Dave said. “The bartender will probably remember Ralph being there, but he won’t remember the exact time.”

  “What about Ray Franklin?” Di asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll remember the exact time,” Dave said. “At least now we have a pretty good idea who Ralph’s accomplice was.”

  “You mean Ray? Not that it surprises me,” I said.

  “Chances are, Ralph just gave Ray an alibi, and I’m sure Ray will return the favor.”

  “Speaking of Ray Franklin, were you ever able to get fingerprints or DNA to prove if he really is the Farrells’ father or if he’s a deserter?” I asked.

  “Yes, I did retrieve a DNA sample from his coffee mug, and I received results from the lab late this afternoon. He’s not the Farrells’ daddy. And he’s not a deserter, either. Although he did serve in the military during the Iraq War, same as the Farrells’ father.”

  “I don’t understand. It seemed crystal clear in Duane’s diary that Ray was their father,” I said.

  Chapter 23

  Di and I both stood there, gobsmacked, for a long moment.

  Surmising our confusion, Dave explained, “What was clear was Duane thought Ray was his daddy—or maybe just fantasized that he was. Trust me, it’s not at all unusual for people to write fiction in their diaries. Apparently, Duane Farrell was a little challenged mentally, kind of childlike. I guess he and Darrell got to know Ray through the reenactment unit, and he looked up to Ray as some kind of father figure. So he pretended he was his dad.”

  “But what about that picture of the boys and the postcard we found in Ray’s trailer? How come he had those?” Di asked.

  “Most likely, Duane gave them to him as some kind of gift.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” I said. “The photo and postcard didn’t exactly have pride of place in Ray’s camper—not that Ray’s camper shows any evidence of pride of place.”

  I told Dave he should talk to my neighbor, Mrs. Cleats, in the morning. She doesn’t miss much that goes on, and it would be nice to have Miss Snoopy Britches actually helping my cause for a change. Dave said he’d talk to her, but he noted that anything an old lady saw out her window after dark from across the street probably wouldn’t hold much sway in court.

  “What about Liv’s testimony? She clearly heard Ralph’s voice,” Di said.

  “If Mrs. Cleats makes a positive ID, along with Liv’s testimony, maybe. But I doubt the district attorney would pursue it. Hearing just isn’t as convincing as seeing.”

  “So you’re just going to let Ralph go?” I asked.

  “No. I can still charge him with receiving stolen goods. Nobody’s going to buy that business about him finding a stolen computer in his truck, especially since he went running out the back door the minute the police knocked on his front door. But chances are his lawyer will have him plead to a m
isdemeanor and he won’t do any jail time. I checked. He doesn’t have a record. For now all I can do is put him back in the cell. Then I’ll go over to Ray’s place and try to rattle his cage.”

  I collapsed in my uncomfortable chair, feeling like I’d just lost a wrestling match. Dave turned a chair around and sat down, facing me.

  “There’s one other thing, Liv. I want you to go ahead and sign a complaint against Ralph for theft, listing the computer as stolen and the television as vandalized.”

  “Okay,” Dave said after reading over the complaint form I’d filled out. “I think you two should try to get some sleep. But I will have to talk to Larry Joe sometime tomorrow, Liv. I’ll be talking to him about Ralph and asking him what kind of information was on the computer that Ralph might have been interested in. But I think you better go ahead and bring Larry Joe up to speed on everything. If the Feds end up getting involved in this, there’s still a chance of certain tapes left anonymously on my doorstep coming back to bite us in the butt.”

  “Don’t worry, Dave. I’ll tell Larry Joe about everything first thing in the morning. I had planned to tell him after his dad got out of the hospital, anyway.”

  “Good night, ladies,” Dave said. “By the way, fistfights and all kinds of drama break out on a regular basis over at Buddy’s Joint. I’d recommend you two do your drinking and karaoke somewhere else. I’ll check up on Brad.”

  As we were driving away from the police station, I asked Di to swing by my in-laws’ house so I could retrieve the truck from their driveway.

  “That way you won’t have to drive me to the hospital in the morning. I definitely want to head Larry Joe off at the pass before he walks in and sees that our house has been ransacked.”

  When we got to my truck, I quietly pulled the door open, climbed in, and waited until I had backed out of the drive before switching on the headlights. Then I followed Di to her place.

  I was so tired that just walking up Di’s front steps was a chore. It felt like I was wearing cement shoes. Once inside, I plopped down on the sofa. Di latched the dead bolt and started toward her bedroom.

  “Di, thanks for everything. I know I’ve been kind of high maintenance lately.”