by Curry, Edna
Ben sent her a wary look that told her he was still irritated with her. “Yeah. A John Jay Henry of Minneapolis. Couple of priors. I talked to the guys up there. They'll check out his place tonight to see if there's any evidence that John might have been killed there and then brought out here.”
“I see.” She met Paul's knowing glance. Good thing we didn't stay there. But what will the Minneapolis cops say if they question the landlord and he tells them John was in that apartment with a woman this afternoon?
Ben rearranged the papers on his clipboard. “So, let's get this accident report filled out. I stopped by the car and got what I could at the scene. I take it you weren't alone in your car, Lacey?”
“No,” Paul told him firmly, tossing an 'I told you so' look at Lacey. “I was driving.”
Ben grunted his acknowledgement. “You hurt that leg in the accident, Paul?”
“Yes, but it's just a bruise. Nothing to get excited about. It'll be good as new with some ice and aspirin.”
“Humph. No other injuries? How about those bruises on your face? Cut your lip, too, I see.”
“No, I got that earlier today. We had a little set-to with a couple of guys in Minneapolis. Nothing important.”
“Yeah?” Ben sighed when Paul refused to elaborate further.
He turned to Lacey and sent her a piercing glance. “How about that bruise on your temple? Or were you in on the fight earlier, too? You sure you're okay, Lacey?”
She nodded and sipped her coffee.
“You just can't stay out of trouble, can you, Lacey?”
“I guess not, Ben. Life would be too dull if I did. Just put no injuries in the accident for me, Ben.” She shrugged, watching his pen scratch across the paper on his clipboard as he wrote that down.
Ben turned back to Paul. “Did you see this pickup before it hit you?”
“Not really. Just some headlights in my mirrors as it moved up beside me. The lights were higher than a car's would be, and there were reflectors, so I knew it was a van or truck.”
“You said you were driving, Menns?”
“Yes.”
“You see anything, Lacey?”
She shook her head. “I was dozing. I woke up when I heard Paul swear. Then I felt the jolt as the pickup hit us.”
“So,” Ben turned back to impale Paul with his stony glare. “Let's see your license. And tell me exactly what happened.”
Paul sighed, dug out his billfold and handed over his license. “We were returning from Minneapolis on I-35. Traffic was light after we turned off the freeway onto Highway Eight and headed east. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until we were on that curve. This guy in the pickup pulled up beside us like he was going to pass. Suddenly, he swerved into our side and hit us, then roared on past.”
Ben looked up from copying information onto his form. “Could you see who it was?”
“No. I glanced over, but it was dark. His face was like a dark blob. I think it was a man, though, because he sat up tall in the cab and had on a man's cap, pulled low.”
“What kind of pickup?”
“A dark colored, older model, but I can't be sure of the make. Maybe a Ford.”
“Yes,” Lacey said, nodding. “A black or dark blue Ford.”
Ben's eyes swung around to her. “Get a license number?”
“No. But I remember that he was weaving back and forth on the road like he was drunk. I was just waking up and too busy hanging on as we bounced around.”
Turning to Paul, Ben asked, “Did you get the license?”
“No. I just got a glance at the truck before he disappeared around the curve. Besides, the plates were dirty.”
“Dirty?” Ben looked doubtful.
Paul nodded, looking puzzled. “It looked like it in my headlights. Maybe splattered with mud or something.”
“Mud?” Lacey questioned. “But we'd been driving on blacktop.”
Paul said slowly, “Well, it is spring. He could have hit a muddy pothole in a driveway or on a gravel road somewhere.”
“Maybe,” Ben said, his mouth set in a grim, straight line. “Or maybe he covered it with mud so nobody could read it in case they wanted to. Maybe he wasn't drunk at all and hit you on purpose to run you off the road and over that cliff.”
“What?” Paul said, sending Lacey a warning look. She was sure it meant he didn't want her to mention that Ben was coming to the same conclusion he had earlier.
After shifting in his chair, trying to sit up straight, Paul twisted his ankle and winced. He reached down and adjusted the ice pack.
“Think about it a minute,” Ben urged. “I drove by where your car is after I talked to Tom on the radio. You came very close to going over that cliff. There wouldn't have been much left of either of you if you had.”
Lacey nodded, “Paul's an experienced truck driver. He did a good job of keeping the car under control.” She glared at Ben, daring him to disagree with her. “Anyone else probably would have gone bouncing over the edge.”
“I lucked out hitting that huge rock, too,” Paul said dryly. “If it hadn't stopped us, we'd be history at the bottom of the valley.”
Ben said, “You said he suddenly came up beside you, hit you, then roared around the curve in the road.”
“That's right.”
“Did you see his brake lights? Didn't he hit his brakes, or slow up as though he were going to stop?”
“No,” Paul said slowly. “If anything, he speeded up.” He paused a moment, sending Lacey another wary glance. “That's true. The guy must have known he hit us. The crash really jolted us and made a lot of noise.”
“Exactly,” Ben said. “And he would have heard and felt it too. The usual thing is to stop.”
“Yet I didn't see his brake lights come on. He didn't slow down or make any effort to help us.”
Lacey looked at Ben, her mouth open in dismay. Earlier, she'd dismissed that idea as a wild conjecture.
Now it seemed to ring true, and the thought made her ill. A glance at Paul's face told her he believed the sheriff was right as well.
“Sounds like a hit and run to me.” Ben said grimly.
She met Ben's concerned gaze. He stared at her and his eyes seemed to be sending a silent message. We're not playing games here now, Lacey girl. This is serious business. Suppressing a shiver, she said, “But, that could mean....”
“Yeah. John's killer is still out there. I think he knows about you, Paul, and it looks like he wants you dead, too. He'll probably try again when he finds out he didn't finish you off. You two had better keep your eyes open.” He looked down and finished writing, then turned his clipboard around so Lacey could read and sign his report.
With numb fingers she did so. When Ben got up to leave, she sent Paul a nervous glance. The sheriff hadn't said anything about arresting Paul. Now it sounded like Ben, too, thought someone else was the murderer.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Ben said, turning his sharp gray eyes back on Paul. “That bird-watcher, Mrs. Hendricks, is changing her story. Maybe someone got to her. Now, she says she might have described the victim's face to the police artist. She called me this afternoon to say she's not sure of anything anymore and won't testify. So I have no reason to arrest you at the moment. But don't leave town, anyhow, Paul.”
Paul grinned, relief evident on his face. “Sure, Sheriff. Whatever you say.”
“Humph. You going to your brother's service tomorrow?”
Paul nodded. “Even though I didn't know him, it seems like the right thing to do.”
Ben said, “Well, I haven't announced anything about the dead man not being you, yet, so it's officially your funeral. I hope you don't mind hearing the pastor talk about you being dead. Is that going to be a problem with anyone? Girlfriend, maybe?”
Shaking his head, Paul said, “No. It's okay, really.”
Ben nodded, though he was apparently not pleased with his answer. “I'll try to find out who was next of kin to John and not
ify them of his death. Besides, you, I mean.”
Lacey opened her mouth to say that they knew who John's parents were, then snapped it closed. No sense telling Ben now what the Minneapolis guys would soon find out as easily as they had. Ben would just get all huffy about what they thought they were doing, going into John's apartment under false pretenses.
“Thanks, Sheriff. In the meantime, I have a business to run. I don't suppose I could go back out on the road with my truck?”
“Not yet. Wait until I clear this mess up.”
Paul shrugged and then nodded. “What about my car? You done with it?”
“Yeah. Didn’t find anything. We put it back in your parking space at your apartment.”
“Thanks. It’ll be good to have wheels again.”
“Has he been staying at your house?” Ben sent a disapproving look at Lacey.
She shook her head. “In Margaret Downing's cabin.”
“How about tonight?” He looked down his long nose at the only bed, then back at her.
Heat crept up Lacey's face. “He'll stay here. I was just doctoring his leg a bit after the accident. I'm heading to Marion's house. I tried to call her earlier.”
Ben smiled approval. “Oh, that's good. I saw Marion selling raffle tickets at the Chamber's booth. I'm sure she's still there.”
“Great.” Lacey grinned. “Thanks, Ben.”
“Keep your eyes open, you two, just in case I'm right about that not being an accident. Goodnight.”
Lacey closed the door after him with a sigh of relief. She came back to sit on the arm of Paul's chair.
He put an arm around her and squeezed. “Well, that's over with. I was sure he was going to arrest me on the spot. Maybe for being here with you as well as for the murder. I swear the man was jealous.”
She laughed. “Ben acts like a mother hen sometimes. He can be very protective. Don't think you're off the hook, yet. At the moment, he doesn't have any evidence against you without Mrs. Hendricks' testimony. But he'll keep on it. He's like a terrier with a bone. When he's on a case, he stays on it until he solves it. He usually gets his man.”
“I hope so. I'd hate to think someone could get away with murdering John, for whatever reason.”
Chapter 9
“We'll find whoever did, it, Paul. I won't give up until we do.” Lacey walked over to the telephone and copied the motel's number in her notebook.
“I'm sure. You're a stubborn little thing.”
She glanced at him sharply, trying to determine if that was a compliment on her work or a commentary on her earlier refusal to make love with him. His face was unreadable.
Deciding to ignore the comment, she stuffed her notebook back in her purse and said, “I'm going to find my friend, Marion. I'll stay with her tonight and call you in the morning.”
He sent her a worried glance. “Tomorrow morning is John's funeral. I don't want to miss it.”
“I remember. It's not until ten. I'll rent a car and pick you up in plenty of time.”
He shook his head. “We don't need to rent a car, now. Since the sheriff has taken the heat off me, we can use my car. We'll just need a ride over to Canton to pick it up. Can you manage that?”
“I'll see. Marion should be able to take us.”
“All right.”
She picked up her jacket and headed for the door. “Lock up behind me. I'll see you in the morning, then.”
“Lacey?” The sound of his soft baritone voice stopped her.
“Yes?”
“Be careful. Please?”
She nodded, surprised and touched by the caring concern in his voice. “I will.”
She stepped out into the cool night air. The motel was built on the hillside, and the streetlights plainly showed that the blocked off streets in the little town below her were filled with people.
Heading back through the crowded parking lot, she tried to avoid the rowdiest of the street dancers. The band was still playing on the flat roof of the one story bar, and the people's shouts, laughter and clapping accompanied it. The noise bounced off the buildings and the sides of the valley and echoed back on itself.
Weaving through the crowd, Lacey headed for Main Street, then walked down it until she could see the various booths set up to sell things. The evening had turned chilly and she pulled her jacket closer around her. The acrid odors of spilled beer and cigarette smoke hung in the crisp air, only partially offset by the delicious aromas of popcorn and hamburgers cooking.
“Fresh popcorn, lady? We got hot dogs, too!” a skinny teen coaxed.
She shook her head and hurried past his little stand.
There was a line at the ice cream booth in spite of the evening's chill. People stood talking, and the line spilled out, blocking the sidewalk. Lacey attempted to cut through the line, sending a smile at the lady who moved back for her. At that moment a little boy chased a girl, who barged into Lacey, dropping a dip of chocolate ice cream off her cone at Lacey's feet. Lacey almost tripped over her, stopping just in time. She quickly reached out both hands to steady the little girl.
The child began screaming, holding her empty cone in dismay. Her jeans-clad mother, who'd been chatting with another woman, turned to scowl at Lacey, apparently thinking Lacey had caused her child to cry.
I don't have time for this. Lacey dug a couple of bills out of her purse, turned her back on the girl's mother, and handed them to the matronly lady who was dipping ice-cream. “Give her another cone.”
The lady raised wide brown eyes to Lacey in surprise. “But it wasn't your fault. The boy chased her.”
“No problem,” Lacey said with a quick shrug. She started to turn away, when something familiar in the woman's expression made her take a second look. Where had she met that woman before? The shape of her brow and wide forehead was unusual. Lacey had a very good memory for faces, but right now she couldn't remember where....
The woman murmured soft, comforting words to the sniffling child as she bent to dip the replacement cone.
The sense of familiarity faded, and Lacey was sure she'd never met the woman before.
As she turned away, she looked up into the belligerent, scowling face of a heavyset man, his hostile gaze watching her. Slightly bald, with a ring of red hair circling his head above his ears, and a round face, he was about five foot nine and his interested stare was ruthless. Wondering who he was, she returned his stare and his mouth clamped shut. Why did he appear to be so angry with her? Was the little girl his?
Shivering, she looked away, remembering Paul's warning that they might still be in danger. She hurried on through the crowd, scanning faces in and around each booth until she found Marion. She wasn't at the booth selling raffle tickets as Ben had said, but at a food stand, eating a taco.
An hour later, they were seated in Marion's cozy kitchen, catching up on recent news over a hot cup of cocoa. Lacey always seemed to gravitate to Marion when she was upset and in need of consolation. They'd become fast friends in grade school and, over the years, had shared problems and triumphs alike.
So Marion hadn't been surprised when she'd appeared without warning tonight, asking for a bed. Marion owned the local dress shop and, since she had excellent taste in clothes, it was a success. She'd decorated the kitchen they were sitting in as well, which looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.
Lacey told her the story of their accident and brought her up to date on Paul, as much as she dared without revealing any secrets. “Most of this is probably public knowledge around here anyway,” she concluded.
Marion set the copper kettle back on the stove and smiled at her as she sat across from her. She hooked her shoulder length black hair behind her ear with thin fingers tipped with very long crimson nails. “True. You know how it is in a small town. The word is that Ben was more than a little chagrined to find out that bird-watcher had described the victim instead of the suspect.”
“I know.” Lacey grinned, remembering how embarrassed Ben had looked when they'd dis
cussed that in his office. “I threw him some broad hints, which he picked up on a little slowly. He wasn't happy when he figured out what I meant.”
“Serves him right to be taken down a peg or two. He's gotten a little uppity lately.”
“Well, now that Ben knows about him, Paul doesn't have to stay out of sight. I won't have to rent a car. We can use his until they fix mine. That reminds me, could you give us a ride to Canton to get his car in the morning?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“I'm afraid Ben's right about tonight's accident. Both he and Paul think it wasn't a drunken driver or even an accident.”
“Not an accident?” Marion's green eyes widened. “But…do you mean someone forced you off the road on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“But who? Why?”
Lacey pursed her lips grimly. “That's what we're trying to find out.”
“Oh, Lacey, I hate your having this dangerous job! Why couldn't you have stayed in that office in Minneapolis doing something safe?”
Lacey took a sip of her cocoa and grinned at Marion. “Because I was bored. Not that this job isn't boring, most of the time. But you know I've always liked a little excitement in my life.”
“Humph,” Marion snorted, raising the bone china cup to her crimson lips, which she curled in disdain. “Then why didn't you stay at the motel with Paul? That kind of excitement ought to be enough for any woman.”
“Yeah, but I'm not just any woman, Marion.”
Marion cast her a sideways look, which told Lacey what she thought of that. “Come on, I'll put some sheets on the bed in the guest room. We'll have to get up early if you want a ride to Canton before I go to work.”
“Thanks, Marion. You're a lifesaver.”
“Well, I certainly hope I don't have to be one literally.”
***
Paul was up early the next morning after spending a restless night.