“Well, it’s pretty readily available,” Brody pointed out.
“And everybody has a bottle,” I added. “Liz doesn’t exactly use it by the drum load.”
The buzzer went off on my washer in the mud room by the back door.
“Back in a minute, guys. There’s more coffee in the pot. I’m going to toss my clothes into the dryer.”
I had to fight the urge to holler out to Wizard, because we usually have a conversation while I’m doing the laundry. My loads are pretty eclectic, since it’s just me. I hand wash a few things and keep my whites separate, but otherwise it’s a load of durables and a load of delicates.
I shook out the pairs of my shorts, tops, and a couple of floral pillow cases and tossed them in the dryer. I better clean the lint trap...it’s been a few loads.
I pulled out the strip of grey lint, speckled with colors, and set it on top of the dryer while I set the timer and turned it on. Then I balled up the lint and picked it up to put it in the kitchen trash. Of course, a lot of loose lint stayed on the machine, and I wiped it off with a sponge I kept on the utility sink. Mental note: Get some more small trash bags for the laundry room.
In the middle of the kitchen, it dawned on me, and I brought the ball of lint into the living room. “Look what I’ve got here,” I announced, holding out the lint ball on my open hand.
“What’s that, Mercy?” Brody asked.
“It better not be a dead mouse, or I’m outta here,” Deloris stated firmly.
“No,” I said, “it’s just...”
“The lint from your dryer?” Ruby asked, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Yes, dryer lint.” They waited politely for me to elaborate and convince them I wasn’t crazy. “You know...a bunch of small fibers of different shapes, sizes, colors, and fabrics. And there’s probably a little bit of hamster fur in here too, and a couple of long blonde hairs from yours truly.”
Brody put on a thoughtful squint and started to nod slowly. “So, maybe the fibers were just from garbage that people had thrown away.”
“Nonsense. There’s no dryer at the diner and most of these other places.” Deloris took the last vanilla wafer off the serving plate and pulled a Bic lighter out of her beehive. “Bring that thing over here, Mercy. Is this plate crystal?”
“Just glass.”
“Good. Set it on here.” She put the plate with the ball of lint on the coffee table. “Hold onto your beast there, Ruby.”
Then she flicked the lighter and held the flame to the dryer lint. A big flame rose a foot off the plate, and in a few seconds the ball was gone.
“Maybe not just garbage, Sheriff,” she said. “Looks like some mighty good kindling to me.”
Ruby suddenly seemed agitated and uncomfortable, and she stood up. “Goldie and I have to get going – thanks for the coffee and cookies, Mercy.”
She headed for the door, and I ran to open it for her. “Is everything all right?” I whispered to her.
“I’m fine,” she said. Then she turned to the others. “Bye, Deloris. And, Sheriff...why don’t you try to get to the coffee shop before Troy leaves. Ask him to meet us all at the diner for lunch.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’ll have time for lunch with everybody...”
“Please,” she said firmly with a serious look in her eye.
This didn’t have the feel of a casual social request. We all had a quiet moment, and then Brody nodded and responded. “Of course, Ruby. I’ll tell him. We’ll be there.”
Ruby gave me a strained smile and then was out the door.
“That woman’s got something up her sleeve,” Deloris said.
I was still stunned and my eyes were frozen on the door. I answered mindlessly, “Her dress doesn’t have sleeves.”
Chapter Twelve
Troy had not arrived at the diner yet, but Brody, Ruby, and I had started to discuss the dumpster fires in a four-top booth.
“The fire at Moonbucks last night was the last fire,” Brody said. “There weren’t any overnight, and there haven’t been any reported this morning, so maybe they’re over.”
Red turned around on his stool at the counter. “Maybe the killer moved on to another area.”
“Or he figured that he started enough fires to cover up the murder,” Jake added.
“Or he ran out of money, ’cause the printing press is probably gone by now,” Junior said through a mouthful of spaghetti and meatballs.
Babs put all of our beverages back on her tray. “You better move to the big table, because everyone wants to get in on this conversation, guys.” She took the coffee and soft drinks away and set them up on the long table where the guys have their meetings and post-ballgame gatherings.
Brody rolled his eyes. “This is official law enforcement business, Mercy. Does the whole town have to be in on it?”
“You deputized all of us, Sheriff,” Junior said as he picked up his plate and headed for the table. “Remember?”
“We’re deputies?” Red asked, a little confused.
“You weren’t here,” Jake told him. “It’s just us and the ladies.”
“And me,” Pete Jenkins said as he took a seat at the table.
Red looked a little disheartened and stayed at the counter.
“Come on, Red,” I told him. “You’re a deputy too – right, Brody?”
Brody shrugged. “Sure...why not?”
We all got seated and settled, and I got everyone up to date on our stakeout observations, the fire at the coffee shop, and the fibers. Deloris told them about her experiment with the dryer lint.
“And,” I added, “if you’ve ever set a ball of lint on top of your dryer, you all know how easily it sheds loose little fibers.”
“Okay,” Brody said as the update wound down, and then he looked at Ruby. “So, why are we all here, Ruby? You seemed to have something on your mind when you left Mercy’s.”
She slowly looked around at everyone and exhaled. “Well, you know I was out with Troy last night...”
“Oh, for mercy sake,” Red said. “Are we going to talk about dating now?”
“Why ‘mercy sake,’ Red?” I asked, not liking my name involved.
“Because it’s about time that people stop saying ‘for Pete’s sake’ all the time,” Pete Jenkins interjected.
Point taken.
“Hush, now,” Deloris said, heading back behind the counter to set out some plates of hot food for Babs. “Let the woman talk. Tell them what you have to say, Ruby.”
“So...I told you that his car was full of restaurant equipment, and so he had to move some things to the trunk. He took a box of security cameras off the front seat, and I grabbed some loose pamphlets and followed him. There was a big clear plastic bag, like the ones a new coffee maker or TV comes in when you take it out of the box.”
Or a soda machine or cappuccino machine, I thought.
“It was filled with grey fuzz – dryer lint. I asked him why he had it in his trunk, and he said it was from the laundry machines he has in the laundromat and apartment buildings. He said he takes it out of the buildings because it’s a fire hazard.”
That got everybody buzzing.
“But wait,” Ruby insisted, “there’s more. After I left your house this morning, Mercy, I got to thinking about the timing of the fires. He had an appointment here Thursday morning, the day after your dumpster fire on Wednesday.”
“I set that appointment up with him on Tuesday, after lunch,” Deloris said from the corner of the counter.
Ruby continued. “Then he had an appointment at Moonbucks for this morning, and they had a fire last night.”
Junior scratched his head. “So, why would he want to burn the place down before he goes there?”
“To sell security systems,” I said, and Ruby nodded. “It’s like the auto glass guy you were telling me about, Ruby. He shot out windshields at night and then made a fortune fixing them the next day.”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “That makes
sense. There was a tire guy in Akron that got caught slashing tires at night a few years back.”
“And then there was that time,” Junior said, “that we drove our truck over Red’s old tool shed when he wasn’t home, and he had us build him a new one.”
Jake gave him a disturbed look, but it was Red who responded.
“You brain-dead fool,” Red said. “I told your dad to tear it down and build me a new one before he knocked it over.”
Pete Jenkins got things back on track. “That Troy guy stopped into Town’s end Hardware the day after the fire in the dumpster there too,” he told us, “and Ronnie bought some security cameras and a few cases of some kind of fire-suppressant pods that he’s selling there now.”
Junior held up one finger for us to wait for his comment as he slurped down the last of his milkshake. “And he does his own installations and plumbing. He’d have plenty of acetone-based solvents to clean rubber cement or other adhesives and gunk off plastic pipes for drains he was fixing.”
Everyone paused for a moment to soak it all in.
“It seems like you have a pretty good group of deputies, Brody,” I said with smile, and he nodded in agreement.
Troy Stargill walked in the front door, and the diner grew silent as all eyes turned to him. He looked to see if there was somebody behind him that they might all be looking at and then checked the zipper on his pants.
“Come here, Troy,” Ruby said, patting the seat of the chair next to her. “I saved a spot for you.”
I tried to break the awkward silence as he sat down. “So, did Julia buy a coffee machine, Troy?”
“Top of the line!” He said with his big bright smile, “Dual espresso heads, dual steamer bars with 18 bars of pressure each, a built-in full-pound heavy-duty burr grinder, and a 2000-watt fully integrated thermo-coil heating system. That puppy will put out 480 cups of perfect coffee every hour for 20 years! I’d have been here sooner, but she wanted me to install some security cameras too.” He leaned over to give Ruby a kiss on the cheek, but she pulled her head away.
A dark-haired girl, about 15 years old, walked in and looked around the diner. It was Ketty Fike. Her family lived a couple of blocks from me. She spotted Troy and walked over to him.
“Hi, Mister. I saw your car out front. We made that delivery for you last night, so you owe us ten bucks. Can I get that now? And maybe a bonus again, because I saw that she bought...some more things.”
I noticed the scent of a familiar floral perfume as she stood by the table, and I watched Troy as his face grew white.
“Uh...” Troy saw us all looking at him intently and tried to get rid of her. “Stop by the Tastee Freeze in an hour, and I’ll take care of you, honey.”
She looked displeased and turned to leave.
“Ketty,” I said, and waited for her to come back to the table.
“Yes, Miss Howard?”
“That ‘delivery’ you did for Mr. Stargill last night...it wouldn’t have been a dumpster fire at Moonbucks, would it? You almost hit me with your bicycle shortly before the fire there.”
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she turned slightly, contemplating a run for the exit. Then she started shaking.
“I just remembered I have an appointment in Calhoun,” Troy said, getting up from his chair.
“Sit down,” Brody told him in an authoritative, macho tone that gave me a little thrill. Troy sat.
“You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?” she asked, her arms hanging limply at her sides and tears streaming down her face.
Ruby stood up, stroked the girl’s back gently, and spoke calmly. “No, we’re not going to tell your parents, sweetheart.” She smiled, and Ketty raised her head. “You are.”
Ketty stopped crying, and her eyes grew wide. Then she nodded slowly. She looked at Brody. “He offered us a lot of money to do five dumpsters, and said to just call it a delivery when we texted him that each one was done. I really wanted money for some shoes I saw at Carlson’s downtown...but nobody will hire me because I’m not 16.”
“I’ll hire you, Ketty,” I said. She’s bright, and a good kid. “An hour a day at lunchtime clearing tables. Minimum wage. You can start tomorrow.”
I could see the excitement fill her eyes as a hint of a smile grew on her face. She nodded, and then turned slowly toward Brody. “Do I have to go to jail, Sheriff Hayes?”
“I doubt it, Miss...uh, Ketty. But you will have to tell us everything. Come to my office at the Village Hall tomorrow at noon – or when you’re done clearing tables here – and bring your friend on the other bike. That has to happen if you don’t want to be in trouble with the law. Do you understand?”
She nodded and then looked back at Ruby. “Who are you? You’re really pretty.”
Ruby smiled. “I’m your history teacher, Ketty. I think you’re really going to like my class.” Then she gave the girl a hug, and Ketty left the diner.
Brody got up from his chair, speaking as he rose. “Okay, Mr. Stargill. you can stand up now. His handcuffs jingled as he pulled them from the pouch on his utility belt.
Troy stood, looking very glum and deflated. He turned and put his arms behind his back.
“Can I do it, Sheriff?” Junior asked. “Can I cuff him? I’m a deputy.”
“I’ll take care of it, Junior,” Brody answered him and then read Troy his rights.
“So, how come you killed Tom Hopkins?” Junior asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” Troy said, suddenly very animated. “You’re not going to pin that murder on me! I never even knew the guy. I didn’t even know there was a body in the dumpster when I...I...I want a lawyer.” Then he looked at Ruby. “I’m not a killer, babe. You believe me, don’t you? This is all just a big misunderstanding.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Ruby said. “I mean, you practically fainted when you found out about the body. And I called Bangers – you were there the night that man was killed.”
Troy seemed relieved. “So, we’re okay, then? We’ll get through this, and it’ll be like none of this every happened.”
“No, Troy. It’ll be like we never happened.”
“But I’m not a killer!”
“No, you’re not a killer. You’re just a thug with no soul who endangers lives, makes a whole town live in fear, and destroys property so you can try to scam people out of their money.”
“But, it’s all top-quality security equipment that they should really have.”
“Save your sales pitch, Troy. The problem isn’t with your equipment; it’s with you. You’re a con artist and a common criminal. You no doubt handle the rest of your life and your relationships with the same lack of morality that you use to run your business.”
Brody had called his deputy, Stan Doggerty, to come to the diner, and he walked in the front door.
“Deputy Dawg!” Red greeted him. “Sheriff has a present for you, cuffed and ready to go.”
“Holding tank in Calhoun, Sheriff?” Stan asked.
“Yep. Frisk him, just in case. Oh – and he asked for an attorney, so no interrogation until he has one.”
“Yes, sir. What am I charging him with?”
“Arson with intent to defraud, for now. We’ll add more charges when I get back.”
Babs and Deloris came to the table with several plates of food.
“Okay guys!” Babs sang sweetly, “Lunch is served! Eat well – we still have a murder to solve!”
Chapter Thirteen
This was beginning to feel like the longest week of my life. Tom was killed some time after the town council meeting on Tuesday night; the first dumpster fire was started by Troy Stargill at the Old School Diner on Wednesday morning; and the last fire was started by his young minions on Thursday evening. Then, this morning we solved the dumpster fires (thanks to Ruby!), but it seems like we’re back to square one on the murder.
I was helping Smoke rinse off the last of the dinner dishes and run them through the dishwashe
r when my cell phone rang.
“Hey, Mercy...it’s Ruby. I’ve been texting you, but you never answer!”
“Sorry, girl...been in the kitchen, and it’s a little noisy. What’s up?”
“It’s Friday night, and you need to relieve some stress. I’m taking you out.”
“Out? Mmmm...I’m not dressed, I’m tired, my hair’s a rat’s nest, and I promised Wizard and Grace that I’d watch a movie with them tonight.”
“Mercy Howard! You’re 33 years old, active, beautiful, and worn out from this whole murder and dumpster fire thing. You need a night out, and you’re not going to stand me up for two hamsters who couldn’t pick you out of a lineup of refrigerators and grizzly bears.”
Wizard knows me...doesn’t he? I knew she was right about needing a night out, but I really didn’t feel like doing anything too fancy. “Okay...but here’s the deal. We’ll just stay in Paint Creek and go to the Legion Club.”
“The Legion Club? You mean like old geezers with no teeth who smoke, do the polka, and play pull tabs all night?”
“It’s not quite that grim, Ruby. They just remodeled it last year, and they have a live combo there on the weekends.”
She was skeptical. “Will we be...you know...popular there, with old geezers bothering us all the time?”
“Nope. Actually, Deloris and Babs are popular there. Most of the regulars are under 25 or over 50. Or on a date with their wife.”
“Do they make a decent martini?”
I’m pretty sure no bartender there ever heard of a martini. “No, but they make a mean rum and Coke.”
I could hear a hint of disgust in her sigh. “If I hate it, we’re leaving. I’ll pick you up at home in an hour and a half.”
“I HATE IT.”
Ruby wrinkled her nose as we walked into the Legion Club just before 10:00 p.m. I gave her my best sarcastic scowl, and led the way past the bar to a welcome of wolf whistles and hoots from the guys.
“I told you it would be horrible,” she whispered to me.
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