by Joan Hess
I could hear Estelle chattering in the next room, which meant Amanda would have heard raised voices or sounds of violence.
She couldn’t have slept through it, but she had taken a shower earlier. It was impossible to tell if anything had been taken. I continued into the bathroom. I flipped the mirror back and studied the contents of the medicine cabinet: a grungy tube of toothpaste, bottles of mouthwash and Pepto-Bismol, a box of condoms, a razor, and an aspirin tin. Tommy had been well prepared for hangovers and sex. Sex with whom? Tommy had won the bet with Dennis, but it was hard to believe that Amanda hadn’t made her objections known. The same Amanda who’d implied that Natalie and Tommy had something going on the side that did not include tees and golf balls. Neither Janna nor Kathleen Wasson was a likely candidate. It made more sense to assume that Tommy never left home without condoms.
As I closed the mirror, I spotted a white pill on the floor under the sink. Since the sheriff’s department lacked a skilled CSI team, I picked up the pill. It was shaped like a triangle with softened corners, and the numeral 8 was stamped on it. It was apt to be Dilaudid, I thought as I put it down next to the faucet. McBeen would either recognize it or have it analyzed. There was no bottle, however. I looked in the medicine cabinet again, just to be sure, and then searched the bathroom. I went back into the bedroom and carefully picked through the clothing on the floor, the contents of the wastebaskets, the closet, and finally the golf bag. Had someone been so desperate to get the pills that he’d killed Tommy merely to gain access to his motel room? Dennis had found the door unlocked before noon, and the room appeared to already have been searched. Why had the perp returned?
The distressing presence of the body sent me outside to wait for Harve and his vigilant deputies. Estelle was still in Amanda’s room. Since I couldn’t hear anything, it was likely that they were making inroads on the sherry, along with what ever emergency rations Amanda had stashed in her bag. I wasn’t about to poke my head in the door.
Kale Wasson came around the back corner of the building, carrying a misshapen pillowcase in his hand. His shoes and pants were covered with mud. He slouched toward the door of number four, presumably hoping I wouldn’t notice him. Alas, he’d forgotten to wear a cloak of invisibility.
“Kale!” I called, beckoning to him. “I want to talk to you.”
He stumbled as he veered in my direction, then caught himself before he fell. “Yeah, what?” he said in that churlish tone that teenagers perfect in middle school.
“What’s in the pillowcase?”
He glowered at me. “Aluminum cans. I’m into recycling.”
“Oh, really? Did you have any luck on the ridge? I love crumpled aluminum cans more than chocolate-covered cherries. Let me see.”
“So it’s pot.” He dropped the pillowcase. “Is that all, Miss Cop?”
“It’s Ms. Chief of Police to you, Kale. Do you want to do this here, or would you prefer for us to have this conversation in the motel room—with your mother present?”
“Like I care?”
I reminded myself there was no legal justification for spankings.
“I’m not going to charge you with possession, since I know for a fact that the marijuana in Raz’s pasture is about as potent as crabgrass. Lose the attitude or I’ll change my mind. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kale said, smirking.
“Your mother thinks you were asleep at ten o’clock last night, but I know better. It must have been almost two before you staggered in. Care to explain?”
“She’s crazy. Hell, she thinks the sun rises from my ass every morning. It doesn’t get dark ’til I take a crap.”
“Try again,” I said, “and this time show some respect for your mother. The big bad sheriff’s on his way here now. If I turn you over to him for questioning, you won’t be playing golf in the morning—or anytime soon. What’s it going to be?”
“I don’t know where she went last night. I got tired of sitting by myself, so I went over to the bar to see what was happening. I drank some beer. Later, Ridner came up with this idea about the stoplight. The mayor was in on it, so I didn’t see any harm. after it was over, I came back and went to bed.”
“Your mother went somewhere last night and didn’t get back until two? Didn’t you ask her where she went?”
“Why should I care? When she’s around, she won’t stop yammering about golf and tournaments and scholarships and all that shit. It gets real old.”
I turned around as Harve parked his car. His expression looked as if he’d run over dozens of skunks on the way from Farberville.
A couple of deputies got out of the backseat. Seconds later, McBeen drove up in his death wagonette. I turned back to Kale.
“We’re not finished. Wait for me in your room. If your mother yammers at you, all the better. I’ll expect full cooperation when I get there.”
He stalked away toward number four. I went over to Harve and told him what I’d found. He ordered his deputies to search the immediate area and then went inside. McBeen glowered at me. I pointed out the dried blood to the deputies, then walked across the gravel to continue the conversation with Kale.
Janna came outside. “What’s going on?” she demanded, gesturing at the official vehicles. Natalie stood behind her, her eyes round.
“There’s been another incident,” I said. “Please stay in your room until further notice.” Ignoring their questions, I knocked on Kale and Kathleen’s door.
Kathleen promptly opened it. “Chief Hanks, what on earth is going on? The sheriff and all those uniformed men. I don’t know what to think. Did something happen?”
“Yes, something happened. Did you see anyone go in or out of Tommy’s room this afternoon?”
“I brought Kale his lunch, but he wasn’t here. He left a note that said he was going on a hike. The woods always smell so fresh after a storm, don’t they? I took a nap and woke up only a few minutes ago. I’m so sorry. Is there something else I can do to help you?”
“For starters, you could tell the truth.” I could hear water running in the bathroom. Kale may have believed he’d found a safe haven, but I was in no rush to go back to Tommy’s room until Dennis’s body was removed. Kathleen stiffened as I came into the room. “Where were you last night?”
“Right here with Kale. You have no right to treat him like a criminal. He’s a minor, and I won’t give my permission for you to question him. I am aware of my legal rights, Chief Hanks. Neither of us will speak to you without a lawyer present. Kale needs to concentrate on his game tomorrow.”
“You’ve been watching too much TV,” I said. “All I want to know is where you were last night after eight o’clock. If you want to call a lawyer, that’s up to you. There aren’t any local ones, so you’ll have to persuade one from Farberville to drive out here. Keep in mind it’s Sunday afternoon. It may cost a bundle.”
Kathleen clamped her lips together like a peevish garden gnome. I sat down and said, “You don’t have to say a word. I’ll just wait for Kale to finish his shower or what ever he’s doing in the bathroom. He and I have some issues to resolve. He picked half a pillowcase of marijuana at the golf course.”
“I’m sure Kale had no idea what it was. He’ll be taking biology in the fall, so he was most likely collecting local specimens to identify. His grades are very good, but he can do better if he applies himself. He almost made the honor roll this spring.”
“It must be hard for him to keep up his grades while he’s going to golf tournaments.”
“Goodness, yes. He’s so dedicated that he practices every single day when weather permits. I drive him to Farberville on weekends so he can play the municipal course. I can barely afford the greens fee at the better courses. You wouldn’t believe how expensive the tournaments can be. Even the price of a sandwich in the club house restaurant—outrageous!”
Kale came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. “You still here?” he said to me.
“As far as I can
tell,” I said. “I asked your mother where she was last night, but she doesn’t want to discuss it. I hear you’re taking biology this fall.”
“It was pot, okay? I dumped it behind the building before I came in here.” He snorted at his mother. “Just tell her where you were last night. I don’t need an alibi because I didn’t kill the guy. I wanted to, but so did everybody else.”
“Because of the boat?” I asked.
“No.” Kale stared at the worn shag carpet. “Because of Natalie, if you really want to know. He kept brushing up against her and fondling her butt. She had to put up with it on account of his connections. He was buddies with golf magazine columnists. He invited her to play at a tournament this summer in Palm Springs.”
“You were jealous,” I pointed out. “That’s a strong motive.”
Kathleen cleared her throat. “Kale couldn’t have done anything wrong because we were both here all night. There’s a Gideon Bible in the dresser drawer. Get it out and I’ll swear on it.”
“Gimme a break,” Kale said. “She already knows I was in the bar last night.”
Her jaw twitched irresolutely as she struggled not to throw him under the bus (as if Maggody had any buses). “Kale might have slipped out for a few minutes,” she said at last. “Perhaps even an hour.”
I shook my head. “More like six hours, give or take.”
She stared at her son. “You told me you came back at ten.”
“Time flies when you’re drunk.”
I was fed up with both of them, but if I went outside, I’d feel obliged to talk to Harve—or even worse, McBeen. “Kathleen, I know you weren’t here. Your car was missing.” I hoped it was, anyway.
“I drove to Tibia,” she said numbly. “I was so sure that I packed Kale’s blue shirt, but it wasn’t in his bag when we got here. It does wonders for his confidence. I couldn’t bear the idea of him losing tomorrow because of my stupidity. It’s nearly a two-hour drive each way, and it took me forever to find the shirt. I don’t know how it could have ended up in the hamper. I ironed it Thursday night.”
“Okay, you drove home to fetch the magical blue shirt. Where is it?”
“In the closet,” she said. “It got damp this morning, but I brought my traveling iron so I could touch it up.” When I said nothing, she went to the closet and took out a rather ordinary blue knit shirt. “Are you satisfied?”
“For the moment. You’ve told me your story, Kale, but you don’t seem especially fond of telling the truth.” I shushed Kathleen before she could lunge to his defense. “Do you and Natalie have a relationship?”
“Not really,” he said sullenly. “She acts like I’m just a kid. When I graduate from college, the age difference won’t matter. I’ll be winning tournaments left and right, so she’ll have to notice me.”
Although they were only a couple of years apart, the chasm between them would always be as gaping as the Grand Canyon, I thought with a flicker of sympathy. Once he shed his teenage scales, he would meet a nice young thing who baked pies and made her own clothes. Kathleen would not go quietly into the night.
“Tell me what you remember about the stoplight shoot-out,” I said.
“Tommy won, so I came back here and went to bed.”
“Did you see Natalie and Luke?”
“Luke? Why the hell would she hang out with a redneck like that? Natalie likes old guys with money.”
“I saw the two of them whispering yesterday,” Kathleen said.
“He’s the one who was jealous enough to kill Tommy.”
I shrugged. “He said he walked her to her door.”
“And you bought it?” Kale snorted. “Why would he dump her at the door and go back to that pig from the trailer park? Bopeep looks like a cafeteria lady who can’t get enough mystery meat and peanut butter cookies.”
There was a knock on the door. It proved to be a deputy with an adolescent face and the physique of a dedicated couch potato.
“Sheriff Dorfer’s waiting for you, ma’am,” he muttered.
“Stay inside until further notice,” I said to Kale and Kathleen, then allowed the deputy to escort me into the bowels of hell.
Thirteen
Harve was waiting for me in the parking lot, his fists on his hip like a sumo wrestler. He yanked the cigar butt out of his mouth and said, “God damn it, Arly! Can’t you keep folks from murdering each other for more than one blessed day? You got more corpses out here than I got termites in my basement. Is this some kind of ploy to give me ulcers? If it is, you’re doing a mighty fine job.”
“This is hardly my fault,” I retorted. “Homicides belong to the sheriff’s department. I told you I didn’t want this case, but you insisted. And where were you when that man was killed? Sprawled in front of your TV. Why don’t you retire and let someone who cares run the department? Surely after your innumerable decades as sheriff, you’ll get a comfortable pension.”
“You threatening to run against me?”
I crossed my arms. “No, but somebody should.” I realized that Janna and Natalie were peeking out the window. Kale and Kathleen were in their doorway, as was Proodle in his. Even Estelle opened the door of number six to stare. All we were missing was a marching band with majorettes twirling batons. “Shall we continue this somewhere else?” I said to Harve. “Like under a bridge or in a cave?”
“We ain’t done,” he muttered. He grabbed my arm and took me inside Tommy’s room. Dennis’s body had been removed, but the sickly sweet odor of blood lingered. “So you found the body about an hour ago. Any idea what he was doing here?”
I repeated what I’d been told about Dennis’s abrupt departure from the wake and the general opinion that he was drunk and upset. “He might have come here to mourn Tommy in private,” I continued. “No one else seemed to care, not even his wife. Either the perp followed him or stumbled into him by surprise. The rest of it is obvious.”
“Can you account for everybody’s whereabouts?” Harve asked.
I leaned against the wall and thought. “Not really, since we don’t have a precise time of death. When Proodle ran out of booze, the party broke up. Some of the local guys may be able to alibi each other. I can’t see why any of them would have a motive. Dennis didn’t snatch the bass boat from under their noses. He might have remembered something about last night, though.”
“Like what?” Harve said skeptically.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be standing here, would I? Tommy supposedly had a bottle of Dilaudid, but all I found was the one pill on the bathroom floor. Can you have your men search the pasture and the trash bin?”
Harve issued the order, then went to his car to catch the baseball game on his radio. I decided to check on Amanda, steeling myself to offer the standard banalities. I was surprised to see Estelle in the midst of giving Amanda a manicure.
“It was my idea,” Estelle said. “It’s helping her deal with her pain.”
Amanda’s eyes were red and puffy, but she managed a weak smile. “Estelle was kind enough to volunteer, and it’s a distraction. Every time I think about Dennis, my throat gets so tight I can barely breathe. Have you found the monster who did this? Is it the same person who killed Tommy?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “There are similarities. Did you hear anything from the room after you came back from the wake? Voices, noises, the sound of a scuffle?”
“Are you asking me if I heard my husband being beaten to death?”
“Goodness, Arly,” Estelle murmured, “can’t this wait? Amanda’s in shock, as well she should be, considering what happened. This ain’t the time to interrogate her.”
I really, really wanted to drive to Springfield and take refuge in Jack’s bed. “This is hardly an interrogation. If you heard anything whatsoever from Tommy’s room, it’ll help pinpoint the time of the attack.”
“No,” Amanda said, pushing her hair off her forehead. “At least I don’t think I did. I heard car doors slam, doors close, some talk as the men headed for the
barroom. I was so tired that I wasn’t paying any attention.”
“There you go.” Estelle beamed at Amanda. “I just got in a shipment of nail polish last week, all the new summer shades. I think Candied Apricot Swirl would go nicely with your coloring.”
“Before you debate this delicate issue,” I said, “I’d like to ask if you knew anything about Tommy’s use of a pain pill called Dilaudid.”
“I didn’t realize he was still taking them.” Amanda studied her fingernails with great intensity. “He got some in Mexico after he strained his back. He claimed it happened while he was fishing, but I doubt it. I believe the word is puta in Spanish. His rich friends knew how to get him a prescription, so it was legal. He hadn’t mentioned being in pain for a couple of months. Is it important?”
“According to a witness, Tommy brought a bottle with him. It’s disappeared.”
“So he took the last few and tossed the bottle,” Amanda said. “I don’t see why it matters. Shouldn’t you be looking for the person who killed Tommy and Dennis? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Now I’m on my own, and I’ve never…” Tears dripped down her face. She took a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose, then looked up like a child lost in a mall. “I guess I should call Dennis’s brother in California. He’s a curator or archivist in some museum. I don’t know what to do about the funeral and all the details. Then there’s the TV station, our lawyer, the insurance company, the bank, and whoever else needs to be informed. I feel so confused and alone—and frightened. What if I’m next?”
Estelle squeezed her hand. “I’m here for you, and so is Ruby Bee. If you’re scared to stay here to night, I can put you up in my guest room. It’s right cheerful, if I do say so myself. Why don’t you pack your pajamas and toothbrush? I can trim your hair and add some more highlights. It’ll make you feel more confident to know you’re looking your best.”