“What you’re saying, Cy, is that we’re not able to eliminate anyone, and we’re no closer to solving this thing than we were before we spent that night in the outhouse. Do you think we are pretty sure as to the time he was murdered?”
“I think so. It must have been somewhere around 8:00. We know that all the vendors were there until 7:00 or a little after, but we don’t know how many stayed after that. Delbert Cross said he left before Joan Arrington left, but did he? I think he did, but did he hide in the trees somewhere and come back after she left? At first, Earl Clements said he wasn’t there Saturday night, but then he said he was. He said he came back and gave the Statue of Liberty to Joan Arrington, but she said he didn’t. Which one is lying? We know Wayne Edmonds was there as Kincaid’s last customer. He said he saw Joan Arrington when he got there, but she was gone when he left. But he said someone was there, because a shadow streaked across the open area to Kincaid’s tent shortly after Edmonds left it. But who could it have been? Delbert Cross, the vendor who left one day early? Earl Clements, the disgruntled customer? Vernon Pitts, the angry parent? Johnny Delmont, who said Kincaid stole his idea? Lois Weddington, who introduced Kincaid to some shows? Or Joan Arrington, his next-door neighbor? Or could it have been someone who doesn’t seem to have been able to do it, like Maureen Eidorn, the fair coordinator, George or Myra Ingram, the security people who supposedly didn’t show up until an hour later, or Kincaid’s wife, who the sheriff said was back in Murray when the murder took place?”
“Cy, I can’t see where any of the ones in the last group could have done it. Maureen Eidorn didn’t seem to have a motive, and every time we saw her another woman was with her. The Ingrams don’t seem to have any motive. They lived six hours from the victim, and we have no evidence they ever met. And Kincaid’s wife was a long way away.”
“We say that Kincaid’s wife was six hours away, but actually, in a way it was seven, since Murray is an hour behind Lexington. The sheriff said he saw her in Murray Saturday afternoon. I don’t see any reason he would lie. So, that wouldn’t give her enough time to drive to Hilldale to murder her husband, although murdering him here with her supposedly back in Murray sure is a good alibi.”
“Are you saying she’s the one who murdered him, Cy?”
“No, I’m with you. I don’t see how she could have done it. I’m also not too keen on putting any of the other women on my suspect list. I can’t see where any of them has a motive. All of those with motives seem to be the men.”
“That does it, Cy. Cherchez la femme.”
The two of us laughed. Sometimes laughter was all that kept us going through the tough moments, when we didn’t seem any closer to solving the murder than when we first discovered the body
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lou and I were hard at work, getting nowhere fast, when the phone rang. Few people have my number. Lou was the one I talked to the most, and he was seated across from me, so I knew it wasn’t him. It was probably my detective skills that allowed me to realize this. I wondered if it could be Jennifer missing me already, or Thelma Lou, who was already missing Lou. Since I was sure the police weren’t after me and I was curious, I picked it up. I soon learned the police were after me.
“Lieutenant, some guy named George Ingram called here, looking for you. He said he thought of something that might be helpful to you in your case.”
I pulled out a pen and wrote down his number. I was curious as to what he knew that he hadn’t remembered when I questioned him. I called him immediately.
“Mr. Ingram, this is Lt. Dekker. I understand you have some information that we might find helpful.”
“Maybe. I just thought of something. I don’t know if means anything or not, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. Last Saturday night, my wife and I were on our way to the park. It was a few minutes before 9:00 and we were just a little over a block away when I saw someone pull out from the side street by the park and almost hit a police car. I didn’t stop to investigate, but I do know the officer pulled over whoever it was.”
Ingram didn’t know if the driver was male or female and couldn’t remember what kind of vehicle it was, but he told me which street the vehicle came from, and I, Cy Dekker, knew the street that the driver pulled out from dead-ends. It goes nowhere except beside the park, and to the park’s parking lot. I planned to make a call and find out who received a ticket on Saturday night. If it was one of our suspects, I would be very interested, but even if it wasn’t, I would question the person and find out if we had another name to add to our list.
I hung up the phone, told Lou what Ingram had said. We talked about it, and something about the whole thing didn’t fit. From everything I could tell, Wayne Edmonds arrived at Kincaid’s tent a little after 7:00. He claimed to be there around a half an hour, but let’s say he stayed forty-five minutes. If so, and if he left then and wasn’t the murderer, that meant that Kincaid’s last customer left him by 7:45. I couldn’t think of any reason Kincaid would have stuck around another hour, and no one said anything about him expecting someone else. However, Edmonds did say something about hearing someone approach Kincaid’s tent just after he left. If so, and if that someone was the murderer, I didn’t think a murderer would hang around for an hour after the murder when the place was deserted. He or she had an opportunity to make a clean getaway. Lou couldn’t see any reason the murderer would have stuck around, either. We also couldn’t think of a reason why the murderer would return to the scene of the crime an hour later unless he or she thought they might have left behind some incriminating evidence. But what could it have been? Would the murderer have gone back to rob Kincaid? If the murderer was one of the vendors, he or she would have known that security patrolled the grounds at night. I doubt if any of them knew what time security arrived, but I would think that most of them thought security was already in place before everyone left. I couldn’t even picture a disgruntled customer returning to the scene of the crime unless he or she left something behind that would identify him or her as the murderer. But, provided Ingram was correct, and I could see no reason why he’d call me and lie to me when I could easily check his story, someone left that park a little before 9:00. We just had to find out who it was, and why he or she was there.
Lou and I studied the board, looked over our list of suspects. Just as I was ready to speak, he opened his mouth.
“Cy, I have an idea. I can think of one thing the murderer would go back to retrieve.”
I too had thought of one thing, but I wanted to hear Lou’s one thing first and see if it was different from mine. It wasn’t.
“Joan Arrington said that Kincaid’s truck and trailer were in the motel parking lot when she left for the park on Sunday morning. They were there later when some of the guys went to check and dust the room, so I figure that Mrs. Arrington was telling the truth. Unless the murderer walked to the park, he or she would have to have gone back to retrieve whatever they drove to the park.”
I picked up the phone to call Ingram again. I knew he told me he didn’t pay any attention to the type of vehicle the officer had pulled over, but I thought he would have noticed if it was a truck pulling a trailer. He did know that much. He thought it was a truck, van, or SUV, but he couldn’t say which, but he did know that whatever it was wasn’t pulling anything. He also thought the vehicle was dark, but then most vehicles would look dark in the dark, unless they were a really light color, like white or tan. Everyone I had talked to drove either a truck or a van. Even the locals. Maybe the murderer drove Kincaid’s vehicle away after the murder, and then went back to retrieve his or her own mode of transportation. If that was the case, I doubted if a lot of tickets had been given out Saturday night, and even if there were, I doubted if more than one was given to anyone whose name I would recognize. Maybe this was the break we needed.
+++
Lou and I took a break, decided to rest our brains for a few minutes. I headed for plates and knives, and cut a small piece of pie and chee
secake. It reminded me of the old days, only our portions were smaller this time. As I ate and savored each bite I wondered if there were other possible suspects who might live in Danville, or if I needed to ask Joan Arrington more questions. While I enjoyed Jennifer and Thelma Lou’s company immensely, I knew that Lou and I were capable of going to Danville alone, and I felt sure I could find Burke’s Bakery and The Twisted Sifter without the girls’ help. I could even find Sutton’s and Carrabba’s in Lexington.
I weighed my options and felt it would be worth it to Wii a half hour longer for a couple of days. Now, if we could just get the case solved, so we’d have plenty of time to leave town, we could go back to Lexington and Danville and take our time getting there and back. Still, the trip would be more fun if the girls were along, and if Lou drove.
+++
I didn’t know if I could look online and find out who might have gotten a ticket on Saturday, but I knew I could place a call and find out. At least I thought I could. Actually, I did, but I wasn’t satisfied with the answer I received. Only two tickets were given out in Hilldale on Saturday night, and neither of those was given out in the downtown area. Luckily, I remembered that not every stop leads to a ticket. Some officers are more lenient than others, in certain situations. I asked for the names of the officers on duty Saturday night who might have been in the downtown area and stopped a motorist. I was given four names. I asked how many of those officers were working at that moment. Two were. I had dispatch put me through to those two officers, and then got the phone numbers for the two officers who weren’t on duty. Luckily, I was a police officer and the dispatcher knew me. Otherwise, there was no chance I would have gotten any numbers.
One of the two officers on duty had given out a ticket Saturday night, but not near downtown. Although I didn’t think it would lead anywhere, I asked for the names of those people who received tickets anywhere in Hilldale on Saturday night, and, as I expected, none of the names were familiar. Since I knew that, I didn’t bother to ask the officer the name of the person to whom he gave the ticket. Neither officer who was on duty was any help to me, so I called the two who were not. At the first house, the wife picked up, told me her husband was asleep, told me he would be up in an hour to go to work, and if I could wait, she would appreciate it if I did. I told her I would call back in a little over an hour. I tried the second number and received no answer. A second call a little later to the previously sleeping officer netted me nothing. That officer hadn’t stopped anyone in the downtown area. A second call to the other officer found him still not at home. I called downtown again to see if there was another number where I could reach him. The dispatcher checked and informed me that he left Sunday on vacation and would be back at work on Monday. It was late Thursday afternoon. If we weren’t able to solve the case by Saturday, I planned to call the officer sometime Sunday to see if he gave anyone a warning. At this point, my brain was tired, and so was my body. I was ready to call it a day. I told Lou I had nowhere to go and asked him if he was willing to drive Lightning home and come back in the morning. He told me he would be happy to drive Lightning home and he’d mull over whether or not to return in the morning. I told him to mull over the murder, instead. He said he was capable of mulling both. I wondered if he was capable of mulling either.
I had planned the rest of my day. I would Wii for a while, and then fix myself a salmon salad for supper. Maybe the combination of exercise and eating good food would help me lose some of my ill gotten gains. And then I remembered that Lou and I had agreed to save the rest of the cheesecake and pie and eat them for breakfast. I needed to have a talk with God, suggest that He change the types of foods that put weight on us. On second thought, I nixed that thought. He already knew I had thought it. I hoped He didn’t punish me for having the thought.
+++
I looked at my watch. Ordinarily when Jennifer or I return from seeing each other, whichever one of us traveled will call the other to let him or her know that they arrived home okay. But Jennifer knew that Lou and I were working on a case, so she told me to call her when we decided to call it a night. I could tell by the time that she was either home, or almost home. I picked up my phone and dialed.
“Is this that wonderful, gorgeous creature who spent the last few days in Hilldale?”
“Well, one of those is correct. I did spend some of the last few days in Hilldale. Were you the guy who arrested me when I was there?”
“I’ll have you know that I didn’t try to stop anything you wanted to do.”
Jennifer laughed. It’s nice when others know you are funny, especially when the one who laughs is the one you want to impress.
“I was just checking to see if you got home okay.”
“No, this big storm came up and I had to pull over and spend the night in an outhouse. Good phone reception here, though.”
“That isn’t even funny.”
“No, I don’t guess it is, Cy. Yes, I got home about a half hour ago. Didn’t have any problems except missing you all the way home. Have you solved your case yet?”
“No, I was too busy thinking of you. We did get some leads though, and both Lou and I are optimistic that we’ll have it solved by Monday.”
“Does that mean that you’ll be down to see me on Tuesday?”
“I thought you were going to move up here.”
“I’m still thinking about it, seriously. I can think of one really good reason to move up there.”
“Oh, and what is that?”
“Don’t you remember? Sutton’s, Burke’s, The Twisted Sifter, and Carrabba’s.”
“Any other good reasons?”
“Well, there is someone there that helps me enjoy those places a little more.”
“Only a little more?”
“Well, maybe a lot more. Enough that I’ll be dreaming about him tonight.”
“So, it’s a guy, is it?”
“Yep. One of those law enforcement types.”
“You have to watch those guys.”
“Oh, believe me, I do, every time I see him.”
We continued our sweet nothings that would make most eavesdroppers gag, and then after a few more minutes of infatuation, we hung up. Even after we hung up, I continued to think of her a few more minutes, and then did what I needed to do. I went to bed.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I went to bed early Thursday night, so when I got up Friday morning my head was clearer than it had been in a few days. I was immediately able to think of the things that were bothering us the most. Earl Clements had told us that he gave the statue to Joan Arrington. Joan Arrington had told us he did not. Did that mean that one of those two was the murderer, or had one of them lied for an entirely different reason, and if so, what was that reason? Could one of them be protecting someone else? If so, who? We also knew that whoever murdered Kincaid had robbed him, too. At least someone had robbed him, and my money was on the murderer. I wondered if there was some way we could find that money. The other thing we had learned is that someone, probably the murderer, had been pulled over by a police officer sometime after the murder on Saturday night. At least, I didn’t see any reason why George Ingram would lie to us, and I figured that Kincaid was already dead before 9:00. If not, maybe the police stop meant nothing.
At any rate, I had thought enough without having Lou around, so I planned to wait until I could bounce these ideas off him. He would be here soon enough. It was time for me to read my daily devotionals and pray, exercise, and shower.
+++
“Lou, we have a statue, two stories about it, money, and a pullover. Can you make anything out of that?”
“Let me see. The statue might be the bird in The Maltese Falcon, the money could allow us to take a much-needed vacation to Gatlinburg, or if we have enough of it, some exotic island, and the pullover could be the one my Aunt Bessie got me for Christmas. How did I do?”
“You were closer before you opened your mouth. I’m talking about the case, and you don’t ha
ve an Aunt Bessie.”
“Cy, are you telling me she died?”
“No, I’m telling you that you never had one.”
“Are you saying I’m adopted?”
“No. Just special. But don’t give up hope. They’re still holding out for a cure. Now, are you ready to work on this case or not?”
“Okay, what have you got?”
“Remember the statue, the two stories, money, and a pullover?”
“I don’t like pullovers. They always mess up my hair, and I’ve never seen a cop wear one.”
“Lou, I’m talking about a police pullover.”
“They make a special kind for cops?”
“We’re talking murder here.”
“Now, Cy, I think you’re going a little too far. I don’t plan to wear a pullover, but I wouldn’t murder someone over something like that.”
“Well, I’m contemplating that option, if the dumb sergeant doesn’t start cooperating. Now, what do you think about the conflicting stories about the statue, and the driver one of our officers pulled over near the park the night of the murder, and how do you think the robbery plays into this?”
“Oh, that’s easy, Cy. One of those two is lying, which means that one of them is probably the murderer. If we wait, he or she is liable to spend some of that money and allow us to catch him or her, or we could go ahead, make a call, and find out who was pulled over the night of the murder.”
“I’ve already done that, Cy. Evidently the officer who pulled someone over is on vacation this week.”
“Which is where we could be too, if we were the ones who had Kincaid’s money.”
“Well, I doubt if he made enough for a trip to that exotic island, so we might not be able to go any farther than Gatlinburg. But we have to solve this case before we can go anywhere, so have you got anything to contribute?”
6 Murder at the Art & Craft Fair Page 21