“Triple-A?” I asked.
“Yeah. Hal Morgan said I’d find you here. Don’t mean to rush you, but I’ve got a shit load of calls. Never fails when it gets hot. Cars start to vapor lock, and the idiots keep grinding on the starter until the battery goes dead.”
“Boy, you guys are fast,” I said, getting up to leave.
I looked over at Sam, who was still waiting on his customers. “I’ll stop by later, Sam. I can’t wait to try one of those burgers.”
Before he could answer, two more couples entered. He waved then hurried back to the bar as I followed the driver out the door.
* * *
When I pulled up to her house, Mother was in her garage with the door open. I parked in the street because her minivan was in the driveway. She stopped whatever she had been doing and came to the front of the garage. Her hair was tied up in a bun and covered with one of Dad’s old baseball caps. Her face was covered in a painter’s mask, and she was wearing one of his old long-sleeve shirts and work gloves. “Are you trying to die of heatstroke, Mom?” I asked, halfway up the driveway. The temperature had risen even higher now that it was mid-afternoon. It must have been close to a hundred.
She pulled her mask down and away from her face, so she could talk. It was one of those paper things held in place with rubber-band straps. “I’ve got rats in here, Jacob. I’d rather have heatstroke than die from some kind of rat virus. This would have never happened if you had cleaned up this mess sooner.” The tension on the straps was too much, and they broke, snapping her in the face.
I tried not to laugh at her startled reaction. She had the look of a person caught completely off guard. “Sorry, Mom. But I’m here now, so why don’t you go inside and cool off. I’ll finish up in there.”
She removed the mask completely, then my father’s gloves and shirt. She was wearing one of Dad’s oversized tee-shirts under his work shirt. It was soaked in perspiration. “You better come in the house and cool off too, Jacob. You’ll need the keys to the van anyway, so you can back that truck up to the garage,” she said while rubbing an invisible wound on her face. Then she turned to go back into the house.
I took a quick look into the garage before following her. The boys and I had removed all of the broken furniture and cabinets weeks ago. Only a pile of black trash-bags remained. Though I was at least ten feet away, I could smell the stench. It was no wonder she had rats. Someone must have put out raw garbage in one of the bags.
My mother kept her keys on a key-rack just inside her door. Some people never learn. After having her house ransacked, I would have thought she would try to make it a little harder for a burglar. All a burglar had to do was break a pane of door glass and reach in for the keys. I took her car-keys off the hook and called out to her. “I better get started, Mom. The dump closes at four.”
I bumped my head on the top of the van’s door frame as I tried to get in the driver’s seat. Mother had the seat too far forward for my six-two frame. I reached under the seat, feeling for the adjustment lever, and felt something sticky. It was a roll of duct tape that had become soft and gooey in the heat. I placed the tape on the passenger’s floor-mat and went back to search for the seat lever. Once I had the seat set to where my legs weren’t up to my chin, I got back out of the car and headed toward the garage in search of a rag to wipe off the glue on my hand. Mother would have what she called a ‘hissy fit’ if I got the mess on her steering wheel. That’s when I saw the hose Fred had retrieved from the truck during our initial cleanup.
The glue used in duct tape must be the stickiest glue made. Although the tape on the hose was long gone, dirt had stuck to where the tape had been, and in a flash, I saw the truth. I went to the rear of the van and got down to check the tailpipe. It too had the residue of duct-tape glue.
Chapter 19
When I put the garden hose into the tailpipe, I could see it was only long enough to reach the back of the minivan. On a hunch, I opened the tailgate door and saw where there was a crease in the rubber gasket that seals off the door. I placed the hose in the crease. It wasn’t a tight fit, but it collapsed when I closed the door. I went back in the garage and fetched the PVC pipe I had seen earlier. After slipping the hose through the pipe and placing it back on the gasket, I shut the minivan door again. This time, it was a near airtight fit. I removed the hose and turned to see my mother, standing a few feet away, watching. Then, before either of us could speak, Megan drove up and parked behind Taylor’s truck.
My mother looked over at Megan, and then she turned back to me. “I wish you hadn’t done that, Jacob. Some things are better left alone. But bring your sister inside, so she can hear why we did it, too.” Then, without saying a word to Megan, she turned and went back to the house.
“What was that all about?” Megan asked when she met me in the garage. She was dressed a lot like Mother. She had on some of Kevin’s old jeans and a tee-shirt with a picture of the Ramones. I was surprised to see Kevin liked a band from my generation.
“She just added another piece that doesn’t fit the jigsaw puzzle. You better let her tell it,” I said and went into the house.
When we joined her in the kitchen, our mother was crying softly. There were some sandwiches and lemonade on the table. She must have come out to tell me about them, and then saw me checking out her minivan. “Your father only did it for Megan,” she said when we both sat down. “I didn’t even know about it until he called me to help him. You won’t tell anyone, will you Jacob?”
Megan first looked at our mother before she turned to me. “What’s going on, Jake? I feel like I just came in to the middle of a movie.”
I sat up in my chair and reached for one of the sandwiches. I wasn’t trying to be melodramatic, but it must have seemed that way. “This isn’t the time to play Charlie Chan. What the hell is going on?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, Meg. Mike really did commit suicide. Father staged the accident to cover it up.”
Megan’s eyes seemed to grow larger. “What? That’s ridiculous. Daddy couldn’t have done that,” she said then turned her attention to our mother. “Is that true, Mom?”
“Yes,” she answered without looking at Megan. “He borrowed Mike’s truck that day to take the lawnmower to the shop. When he returned the truck, he found Mike in your garage inside the minivan. It was still running, and he had a hose running from the exhaust pipe into the van.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Megan asked.
Mother looked up at Megan. She had stopped crying, and I could see the look of self-righteousness returning. “He knew you wouldn’t get a dime of the insurance if they found Mike that way, so he put him in his truck, drove it over by the dam, and made it all look like an accident. We didn’t want to involve you, in case we got caught.”
“Which also explains why the suicide note didn’t show up until Megan was arrested for murder,” I said to Megan. “Our parents must have destroyed the original, and then Mom wrote another to cover your ass.”
“Jacob! Please don’t use that language in front of me.”
“Sorry. But I am right? Aren’t I?”
“Not quite,” she answered, lowering her eyes again. “I wanted to burn the note we found with Mike, but your father insisted we keep it. Thank god I listened to him. It was the one thing that saved Megan from being charged with murder.”
Megan sat stone quiet. Her eyes went from me, back to my mother, then back to me. After what seemed like enough time for the realization to take hold, I spoke up. “I wish you had told us sooner, Mother. Megan could have taken that low-ball offer on the house and moved on with her life, and I could have gone home weeks ago instead of wasting my time playing detective.”
Megan finally spoke, “Does that mean you’re planning on leaving, Jake?”
“I was planning to go home next week for Allison’s birthday anyway. Now, I don’t see any reason to come back here. I can give what we know about Nixon to Bennet and head out of Dodge. After what he did to m
om’s house, I’d like to see Nixon hang, but now that we know he didn’t kill Mike, there is no need for me to stick around.”
“You can’t tell Bennet about this!” Mother said in a high-pitched voice.
“No, Mom, don’t worry,” I answered while getting up to leave. “I won’t tell him about you and Dad. I was referring to some dirt Megan and I found on Nixon. I’ll let her fill you in. I need to take your trash to the dump before it closes.” I bent down and kissed her on the top of the head. “It’s our family secret, Mom.”
* * *
I barely made it to the dump before they closed. Bennet should have been out on patrol. He could have made his quota of speeding tickets. Taylor’s truck may look old, but under the hood, it had a massive four-hundred-sixty cubic inch V8. I made the hour drive to Sedalia in thirty some minutes. It was thirty minutes well spent. It gave me time to think before turning over the cell phone. I realized that Bennet might not be the best person to disclose what I knew about Nixon.
Ever since I came to town, Bennet had been trying to crucify me. I didn’t have a clue why. But I decided I’d better not give him a smoking gun that he could use against me. My safest bet was with Rosenblum. I decided I’d drop by his office with Nixon’s cell phone and the floppy disk from the recycle center. That way, I would be two states away when Bennet found out I had been withholding evidence.
I didn’t break any speed records on the drive back to Megan’s. There was no need to get back anytime soon. She and our mother had also had time to think, and God only knew what they had decided to do about the evidence we had on Nixon. When I made the turn onto Highway Seven and saw the sign for the Pig’s Roast, I remembered Sam had tried to tell me something when I had left with the tow-truck driver earlier. It was a great excuse to prolong the confrontation with my mother and sister.
When I entered, there were still several customers sitting in the dining room and a few more at the bar. The sunlight, now that it was past the horizon, came through the lakeside windows, but it didn’t light up the place much. In a few minutes, it would die out and only the dim lights of the table lamps would illuminate the room. I thought I spotted Linda serving in the dining room. Dim light can play tricks that way. After I took a seat at the bar next to Tonto, I realized it had been wishful thinking. The cat had no problem with the light and recognized me instantly. He was on my lap before I barely sat down.
“That old cat has really taken to you, Jake.” Sam said while sliding a bottle of Coors across the counter.
Tonto pushed his head up against my hand. I took the hint and started rubbing his ears. “Just like my dog. They love it when someone scratches their ears,” I answered while reaching for the beer with my free hand. “By the way, what was it you wanted to tell me earlier?”
Sam took a moment to check out the other customers before answering, and then he hit himself upside the head. “Damn. I almost forgot again. I must be getting sometimers. I have something for Megan. It’s back in the office. Hold on, I won’t be a minute.”
I pretended to laugh then took a long sip of my beer. I needed to change position on the bar stool. Tonto had fallen asleep in my lap, and I didn’t want to disturb him. I quietly turned the stool away from the bar toward the diners. I was checking out the new waitress when Sam returned. I swung around a little too quickly and woke Tonto.
The cat jumped off my lap, slowly walked over to the end of the bar where he had a small pet bed, laid down, and went back to sleep. “Damn cat thinks he owns the place,” Sam said. He handed me a folded piece of paper. He then looked over at Tonto, who was rubbing his back against the end of the bar. “You don’t need another pet, do you?”
“I wouldn’t mind, but my sister and my dog might have a few objections. Megan’s allergic to cats, and I’m not sure how Fred would react. I don’t think he would appreciate me bringing home a cat,” I answered while I unfolded the paper. “What’s this, Sam?”
Sam smiled before answering. “I put together a list of investors who can help Megan. I think I told you that, before the bust, I used to be a mortgage broker. These are a few people I know who won’t try to low-ball her. They’ll give her a decent price.”
I looked up from the note, but before I could say anything, several construction workers came in the front door and headed toward the bar. Sam was already on his way to wait on them. I refolded the note, finished my beer, and got up to leave. I fished out a five dollar bill from my wallet and placed it by my empty bottle. I put Sam’s list in my wallet and headed for the door, just as the construction crew took seats at the bar. One of them nudged Tonto with his boot. The cat hissed at him then turned and slowly walked toward the back room.
* * *
The sun was at my back the next morning as I drove past the Pig’s Roast, heading toward town. I had left the house right after letting Fred out and before anyone woke up. I figured that, by the time I finished breakfast at the Rusted Kettle, the local hardware store would be open. I had promised Hal I would fix his roof, if I could, so I needed to get some plastic roofing cement and a roofer’s trowel. If the job required anything more, I would tell him to find someone local who could put a new roof over his sunroom.
Passing the Pig’s Roast reminded me of Sam’s list. Megan was not a happy camper when I had given her the list of investors. I realized now that I should have waited. She had already put away a full bottle of her favorite Chardonnay. On the other hand, the house would be back in foreclosure if she continued to spend the money I lent her on everything except the mortgage, so I convinced myself that I did the right thing.
The Rusted Kettle was packed when I entered. All three of the non-smoking tables at the rear were taken, as were all the front tables. I was about to turn and leave when a woman at one of the front tables started waving at me. “Jake, come sit with us,” she said. I recognized the couple who had given me a ride after my run-in with Bennet.
“Hello, Sharon,” I said when I went over to her. “And how are you doing, Harley?” I asked her husband. He turned to greet me, but stayed seated.
Harley put down his cigarette and offered me a shaking hand. “Haven’t seen you since the funeral. Your mom tells us you’ve been working like a dog getting her house back in shape. That’s a real crime what they done to it.”
“Christ sake, Harley. At least let him sit down before you start talking him to death,” Sharon cut in. She moved her plate next to her husband and went around the table to sit by him. “Take my chair, Jake, so you don’t get your ear talked off sitting next to the old coot.”
The cloud of smoke above the table made me want to beg off. But I sat down across from the couple anyway. “Thanks Sharon. I didn’t expect the place to be so crowded this early.”
“Gotta make hay while the sun shines, Boy,” Harley cut in. “We ain’t like those sissies in the city who can’t get going ‘till they’ve had their so called brunch. What gets you going so early?”
“Harley!” Sharon said. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Harley gave his wife a blank look, “What? What did I say?”
“It’s okay, Sharon,” I said. “No offense taken.” Then I looked over at Harley who looked like he still didn’t understand the insult. “I need to finish up a few odd jobs before I leave for home. Thought I’d get some roofing cement then stop at my mom’s house to get my dad’s ladder. First on my list is a little roof repair.”
“Did that bastard ruin your mother’s roof, too?” Harley asked.
“Harley! Must you swear all the time?” Sharon asked.
“Sorry, Mother. I guess calling Nixon a bastard ain’t strong enough. How about I call him a son-of-a-bitch instead?”
I dropped the menu I had picked up from the middle of the table. It was one of those plastic-coated single-page menus. “Nixon? How did you know Nixon trashed my mother’s house?”
Harley must have known he now had my attention. He leaned forward, holding his cigarette inches from my face. “Hell, Son. Why else
would he disappear the way he done?”
I instinctively leaned back in my chair, retrieving the menu to wave the smoke from my face. “He left town? Do you know when?”
Harley made a show of snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table then narrowed his eyes. He paused just long enough to create some suspense. “I think the SOB knew Bennet was on to him and left right after robbing your mother. The rumor is that Bennet tracked down the missing copper from the museum. The bastard took all the flashing and gutters from what was left of the roof and sold it for scrap. Back then, they made buildings to last. Not like that cheap plastic and tin they use for gutters now-a-days.” Harley reached for his cigarette pack in his shirt before continuing. “I hear they have to notify the cops, just like the pawn shops now, when anyone brings in a suspicious load. They say he got a couple thousand for it. Bennet was on him like a hound on a coon. Must have missed him by only a day or so.”
I felt like asking Harley when pawn shops started buying copper, but I knew what he meant and didn’t try to correct him. I didn’t know what to say, and luckily, I didn’t have to. The waitress must have thought I was flagging her down by waving the smoke away from my face with the menu. “What can I get you, Honey?” she asked when she came to the table with a pot of coffee in one hand and a cup in the other.
“Just coffee, please,” I answered. “I need to get going and make some hay while the sun is still shining.”
* * *
Mother had spent the night at Megan’s, so when I stopped off to get my father’s ladder, I didn’t worry about waking her. She was also another reason I had left Megan’s so early. I didn’t want to rehash the conversation from the night before. She didn’t want us to turn in the cell phone or floppy disk. She was afraid that any investigation might uncover her deed of staging Mike’s accident.
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