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Mercy watched Deputy LeBlanc’s squad car wheel into the church parking lot as the clouds let loose and a blast of heavy rain hammered down.
“Why are you here?” Carter rolled down his window and scowled at the two older women sitting in the Cadillac parked near the bus while Mercy and Spencer occupied the backseat.
“Mercy needed us,” Gertie declared.
Carter’s reply was a snort of disbelief, so Ida Belle leaned over to speak through Gertie’s lowered window again. “With the activity in town we didn’t know how long it would take for you to arrive. We’re preserving the crime scene and evidence.”
“Evidence?” Carter asked.
“The murder victim fell on Mercy,” Gertie replied.
“And so Mercy called you?” Carter demanded with a look of censure at Spence, who cleared his throat through his open window.
“Well, it’s raining, and she doesn’t have a car,” he explained. “And her cellphone is on the bus.”
“Right,” Carter said sarcastically. “And she forced you to make the call, right?”
“You might say that,” Spence replied with a quick grin.
“Stick around and I might say a lot more,” Carter muttered, moving his vehicle to the passenger side of the Cadillac. He got out and opened his back door before opening Mercy’s door and telling her to move to his car. Then he got on the radio and called for backup while Spencer helped set up emergency lights and string tape. When Spence finished, he waited in Gertie’s car.
By the time Deputy Breaux arrived, Carter was working inside the bus. The on-and-off bursts of rain didn’t prevent spectators from filling the parking lot, but they moved to allow an ambulance through to collect the body. Some of the watchers then returned to the carnival while others came to see what was happening. Ida Belle and Gertie stood outside the Cadillac, now parked a short distance from the bus but still inside the taped perimeter.
“This sort of thing would never happen in the Catholic lot.” From her position in the backseat of Carter’s car, Mercy overheard Celia Arceneaux’s snippy tone, and she saw Ida Belle stiffen.
“That’s because the Catholics are too cheap to let the town use their lot,” Ida Belle retorted. “But don’t worry, Celia. The teenagers are happily fornicating over there. Make sure you clean up all the used condoms before your Sunday service. In case you don’t know what a condom is, you might ask—hmm. Obviously, no one in your family knows what one looks like, let alone how to use one, and we have to live with the sad consequences of that ignorance every day.”
“Birth control is sinful.” Celia pressed her lips together in disapproval.
“I’m sure the good Lord regrets not having made an exception in your case,” Ida Belle muttered under her breath.
“What did you say?” Celia asked.
“Ida Belle, don’t make us the focus of next Sunday’s sermon,” Gertie warned. “You know how uncomfortable it is when Pastor Don uses that tone of voice to say how disappointed he is in certain members of the congregation and everyone knows he means us.”
Ida Belle glared. “Maybe both churches should cover the topic of gossip.” She sniffed. “Besides, it’s not like we’re sleeping around or getting drunk and making obscene phone calls.”
“Nevertheless, keep a lid on it,” Gertie said. “The Catholics are on the front line.”
Ida Belle’s eyes flicked to the crowd pressing against the tape and she spotted several members of Celia’s congregation straining to hear her next words. She took a breath and grinned at Gertie but then Carter stepped off the bus and began clearing the crowd starting with the church ladies. “Go home,” he said, eventually sending Kyle to chase away a few lingering busybodies.
Mercy looked around for Spencer and saw him with a group headed back to town. And his perky blonde acquaintance was attached to him. Well, so much for the great evening she’d been hoping for. It was going to end with her giving a statement to a surly deputy while the blonde ended her day with Mercy’s date. Not that it had been much of a date after he left her in the mirror maze. But still—he could have at least put forth some effort to apologize and say goodnight.
After the lot cleared and the state police arrived to lend a hand, Carter got behind the wheel of his car and drove toward the station with a glance in his rearview mirror. “Why the scowl?”
“Why do you think?” she snapped. “I’ve been cooped up in that rolling sweatbox all day, and now I get to spend the next hour with you.”
He grinned and shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it. It’s the gorgeous woman who left with your date.”
“Seriously?” Mercy gave him a dirty look. “Then why did you ask if you knew?”
“Sometimes it’s just fun to watch others suffer,” he joked.
“You’re a real humanitarian,” she scoffed.
“Thank you. I guess it just comes naturally.” His teeth flashed at her in the mirror as he parked by the station.
“So does this,” Mercy said in a low tone as she raised two fingers at him.
“That could be considered a sign of disrespect for my office,” he said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
“Gee, I wouldn’t want you to mistake it for something like personal disrespect.” She jumped out of the car and waited for him to open his door. Then she moved so it bounced off her hip back at Carter. His knuckles hit the glass, and she mouthed, “Sorry,” through his window before heading into the station.
He followed her and pointed to a chair in the front office. After she sat and he took a sample of the blood on her shins, she was allowed to wash in the small restroom. It didn’t make her happy, but it made her feel slightly better. For a few minutes. Then Carter started asking questions, and her already bad mood turned pitch black. An hour later she moaned in frustration. “Are you sure the bus company cameras were down all day? Maybe there’s a little footage from this afternoon and you can find out who stole Rusty’s bag of ribs and question them. My brain is ready to explode.” Her forehead thumped on the desk, and she rolled her head sideways when he spoke.
“Their system is being upgraded, so none of their cameras were recording today. Oh—they wanted me to tell you they’re bringing another bus for you to drive tomorrow. They’ll leave it parked behind the building and the keys will be on Kyle’s desk.”
She peered at him with one eye. “Great. I can’t imagine what they have in their backup lot.”
“Oh, I can,” he replied, his green eyes lighting up with amusement. He leaned back in his chair. “How are you with a stick shift?” Mercy didn’t respond but lifted her head and glared. He grinned and waved toward the door. “I guess that will be all for tonight, so you can go. Call me if you remember anything else.”
“Why don’t you hold your breath and wait?” she replied as she ambled out onto the now quiet street. It appeared the whole town had closed down while she was in with Carter. Booths lined the empty street, and Mercy wondered where everyone went as she walked to the motel. She soon found out when she got to her room and Carter’s patrol car drove past her on its way to the trailer park, which was full of RVs, trailers, and tents.
From where she stood outside her door, Mercy saw campfires the size of small forest fires and heard the hillbilly fireworks, aka M80s. No doubt the rowdy group was also showing a blatant disregard for Sinful’s ‘dry’ policy. Well, have fun, deputy! Serves you right for prolonging my dreadful evening.
Out loud, she said in a snotty voice, “Guess what, Deputy Carter LeBlanc? I saw who killed Mr. Ramon, but I’m not telling you because I’m making a deal with the feds instead. I’ll give a tiny hint—the Boogie Man did it.” She stepped into her room and locked her door with a snort of disgust, wondering how she was supposed to recall every person who had ridden her bus that day.
After her shower, Mercy set the alarm and dove into bed, pulling the covers over her head. Then she kicked off the blankets because they didn’t block out the day’s events. With her arms folded behind her head, knees up, and one leg crossed over the other, she thought about it and wished things had gone differently. There had been a couple good moments. The ribs were delicious. And so was Spencer in his faded blue jeans and white shirt. How did he keep his shirt clean with all the tempting treats and snacks calling from every booth? She was glad the bus company didn’t require her to wear white.
She sat up straight. Her shorts! Could she get by with them another day? Mercy jumped out of bed and ran to look at them. Well, phooey! They had blood spatters, and when she turned them over she saw a splotch on the seat. It was probably BBQ sauce, but it looked like something worse. She checked the clock and realized if she hurried she could do a small load of wash at the coin-operated laundry.
Mercy stuffed the dirty items into a bag before changing into jean shorts and a tank top. She checked her purse for change, grabbed the laundry soap, shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops, and raced out of her room. She opened the loaner car door, then realized she had forgotten fabric softener. It took her several minutes to locate the few sheets she’d put into a plastic bag, but once she had them she locked her door and hopped back into the car.
She was a block from the laundromat when she saw headlights from a vehicle driving in her lane. From their height she knew it was a four-wheel-drive truck, and she stopped and waited for them to move over thinking, Where’s Carter when I actually need him? Then the truck's lights went to high beam, and she heard it accelerate. It was coming straight at her! She rammed the gearshift into reverse and stomped on the gas pedal.
Her car jolted when it jumped the curb onto a lawn, but still the truck kept coming as she twisted her steering wheel, praying she wouldn’t end up crushed between the truck and a tree. She didn’t. Her spinning wheels hit a patch of newly watered grass and the car spun around in someone’s yard. Her momentum continued until the car’s rear end dropped off a landscaped slope and came to a stop, its headlights shining up into the night sky like twin beacons calling all residents. She quickly turned off the engine and lights, but it was too late.
From her launch position she saw a few houselights turn on and heard the roaring engine of the truck as it sped away, leaving her stuck on her back like a flipped turtle. Before she could get out of the car, she saw the flashing lights of the emergency vehicle, no doubt Carter. Well, wasn’t she the lucky one? She quit trying to fight gravity and waited for him to jerk open the door and blind her with his flashlight.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped when he saw she wasn’t injured.
“Me? Why don’t you go after the moron who ran me off the street?” she hollered.
He stepped back and flashed his light the length of the car. “It appears you backed yourself off the street.”
“Well, duh! I had to!” she shouted, fighting her way out of the car. The toe of her flip-flop caught the torn up grass and she tripped, tumbling a few feet down the embankment and landing in a disgraceful heap.
“Are you drunk?” he demanded, following her to the bottom of the slope.
“I’m starting to wish I was! Where were you when that truck came straight at me?” She got to her feet and pointed her finger at the car. “This is the result of defensive driving, that’s all!” He snorted, and Mercy shaded her eyes when she saw the cellphone cameras flashing from above. “Make them go away,” she growled.
“Why? Are you worried one of them witnessed your disgraceful and drunken plummet?”
Through her teeth, she ground out, “I haven’t been drinking. I’m telling you that I’m the victim! Why don’t you ask them about the truck that left after doing this?”
Carter flashed his light up the hill. “Can anyone corroborate her story?” The response was murmurs of denial and more pictures. His gaze turned back to Mercy. “It looks like you’re on your own with this one. Let’s start with a breathalyzer, shall we?” He took her arm to help her up the slope, and she jerked it away.
“I’d rather start with this!” She raised her arms into the air and screamed in frustration. “I just wanted to do my laundry!”
“Keep shouting and I’ll tack on a disturbance citation,” he warned.
She flapped her arms wildly. ”DZZT!”
“What’s that mean?”
“Use your imagination,” she snapped and scrambled up the final few feet of the incline. She stood and brushed her hands together to wipe off the dirt, choosing to ignore the nosy neighbors. “Where’s the blower?” she asked, following him to his squad car. He handed her the apparatus, and she blew a clean test. After checking the results, he shook it and handed it back to her for a second try.
“I think you’re violating my constitutional rights,” she muttered.
“And I think the lawn you tore up is the only thing that’s been violated,” he retorted. “But if you’d prefer to go to Chalk Lake for a blood test, I can arrange for that.”
Mercy snagged the machine and nearly passed out she blew so hard. Then she handed it back and folded her arms. “Are you satisfied?”
He made a noise of disgust and returned the machine to his car. “No, I’m not. I’ll be satisfied when I can get a good night’s sleep. Come on. You know the drill by now.” He held open the back door, and she climbed in. At the station he glanced in his rear-view mirror and warned, “Don’t touch your door.”
She got out when he opened her door and then she trotted after him into the station. Wearily, he leaned against a file cabinet, and she knew he was as tired as she was. Probably more, so she decided to play nice.
“I’m telling the truth,” she said earnestly. “I was heading to do a load of laundry when it happened.” His brows rose, and she explained her uniform dilemma but after a quick look at the clock she dropped onto a chair. “Well, I guess I can forget about having clean clothes on my bus route tomorrow.”
He laughed and rubbed his face. “You’re dreaming. You don’t think I’m letting you behind the wheel of a bus after tonight, do you? If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d have thought Gertie planted that car.”
Mercy looked astonished. “Not letting me behind the wheel? I don’t think you have that authority. The bus company hired me, not you.” That was the wrong thing to say.
His humor disappeared, and he said, “At least drinking might explain how you landed that car, but now I have to wonder about your driving skills, or lack thereof. So until I’ve cleared you with a road test, you’re grounded.”
“A road test? What the hell am I supposed to drive for that?” she asked, hopping to her feet to confront him. “And what about my bus route?”
“Maybe the bus company will loan you the bus.” His snide suggestion made her smile.
“Well, let’s get to it as soon as the bus arrives in the morning,” she said.
“You’re dreaming again. Giving you a road test is pretty much at the bottom of my ‘to do’ list and is currently on par with a prostate exam. In other words, if I catch you driving that bus, or any other vehicle, my ticket book will be smoking like Eugene Mooney—why are you laughing?” It spoke to his state of exhaustion that his own lips twitched at her infectious giggling.
Through sputters of laughter she howled, “I’m living in the bowels of hell!”
“And that’s funny?” he asked slowly.
“Not really, but right now something begs for an emotional release, and laughter was the first to surface.” She wiped the corner of her eye, still chuckling.
He looked slightly apprehensive. “Are you expecting other, uh, emotional reactions to surface?” Crying was left unspoken.
She flashed her teeth. “That depends. Are you expecting to write any tickets tonight?”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Are you willing to risk it?”
He tossed his hands in the air. “You make my head hurt. I can’t promise that you won’t get a citation for your free wheeling activity tonight. I’ll look into the matter when I get time. For now, go home and don’t let me catch you driving. And call a winch truck to get that car pulled out.”
Mercy stopped on her way out the door and turned to say, “Sure. Right after my mammogram and pap smear.”
“Make sure the door hits you hard on your way out,” he said.
She ignored him and left the building. There was no point in going back for her clothes since she wouldn’t be driving the bus. As she walked toward her motel room, a dark SUV pulled up to the curb.
Ida Belle rolled her window down. “Get in,” she told Mercy.
“You’re out kind of late, aren’t you? Thanks for the ride!” Mercy hopped into the backseat because Gertie was sitting in front with Ida Belle. When Ida Belle pulled into the cemetery and parked, Mercy cleared her throat. “Then again, it’s a decent night for a walk. Only not here.”
Gertie looked back. “We came here to talk privately because we heard what just happened to you.”
“I saw the truck that forced you off the street.” Mercy’s curious gaze swung to Ida Belle, who explained. “I had leg cramps, so I was out walking them off with a spin around the block. I heard the truck before I saw it. About the time it passed me, I saw the flashing emergency lights stop where you went off the street.” She paused and exchanged a long look with Gertie who nodded.
“What’s going on?” Mercy asked slowly. “Whose truck was it?”
“Spencer’s,” Ida Belle said. “And no, I didn’t make a mistake. There might be other trucks that look like his, but I recognized the spark knock that his truck makes when he doesn’t use premium gas. Plus, it had a bumper sticker from that bar in Asphalt.”
Mercy leaned forward to protest, but Gertie interrupted her. “She’s right, Mercy.”
She flopped back with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have gotten up this morning. I guess the only bright spot is tomorrow can’t possibly be worse—by much, anyway.” Her gaze narrowed at the silence that met her statement. “What?”
“You won’t like it,” Gertie warned.
“Seriously, Gertie?” Ida Belle asked. “I doubt the news will shatter her world. She’s already driving a bus and living at Eugene Mooney’s motel, for crying out loud.”
“Well, I’m not deaf,” Mercy said indignantly. “But I’m certain there’s a reasonable explanation for the mishap.” Gertie picked at a thread on the upholstery and Ida Belle looked exasperated, but neither responded. “So are you going to tell me or do I have to ask Celia?” Mercy exploded.
“There’s no need to get ugly.” Ida Belle sniffed. “Since you want the unvarnished truth, here it is: Montgomery Spencer’s in financial hot water since Rusty Ramon didn’t pay him for the extensive renovations he made at Rusty’s ranch.”
“So what? I heard a lot of local tradesmen got ripped off,” Mercy said.
“Yes, but were they seen threatening Rusty? Gertie’s beaux George Green was in the general store when Spencer grabbed Rusty by the shirt and warned him to pay what he owed. Then he told Rusty he’d collect payment one body part at a time if necessary.” Ida Belle said after another swift glance at Gertie. “You have to consider how this all fits together, Mercy.”
Mercy’s jaw dropped. “Are you suggesting Spencer killed Rusty Ramon and tried to end me because I might find out? And all this over money? I don’t believe it!”
“Believe this.” Gertie passed Mercy her cellphone which showed a picture of a personal ad.
“He’s selling his truck?” Mercy asked. “Doesn’t he need it for his construction business?”
“One would assume he does,” Ida Belle said. “But he probably needs the money to pay other bills.”
“Well, it doesn’t prove anything.” She rested against the seat for a minute, and then sat up. “Hey, I just remembered something! A woman on the bus said that ‘Monty’ had applied for a loan at a bank in Chalk Lake. Maybe he’s getting a new truck, and that’s why he’s selling this one.”
Gertie gave her a look of pity. “That information is out of date,” she said. “Because he didn’t get the loan.”
“How do you know?” Mercy inquired.
“We just do,” Ida Belle said firmly. “We’re telling you this for your own good. What you do with the information is up to you, but I’d like to believe you have enough intelligence to not be bamboozled by a handsome face. We’ve known Spencer a long time, and he’s always been a straight shooter, but even the best of men can go over the edge when facing financial ruin.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Mercy said. “When did he have time to kill Rusty? It must have happened on the bus, and Spencer was with me this evening until I left him to go and check the bus windows—uh, oh.” Her mouthed formed an O when a disturbing fact crossed her mind.
“He left you in the mirror house. How long were you in there by yourself?” Ida Belle asked. “Long enough for him to make it to the bus, kill Rusty, and then come back for you. I bet he didn’t plan on anyone finding Rusty until morning, but when you went back to the bus, he knew you might put it together.”
Mercy wasn’t surprised they knew all about her evening. The communication system in Sinful qualified as the eighth wonder of the world. The only astonishing thing was they didn’t have photos of Mercy’s evening with Spencer, including him leaving the mirror maze. But Mercy was convinced he wasn’t guilty.
“Promise us you’ll be careful,” Gertie requested. “It’s possible we made a mistake about him, but if not, your life is in danger.”
“I’ll be careful,” Mercy agreed. “But I just can’t wrap my head around it being Spencer.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I heard so many stories about Rusty, and most of them were bad. If I can recall them, we’ll find other suspects. Maybe if I wander around the festival tomorrow, someone’s voice will jog my memory.” She twisted a piece of her dark hair as she struggled to capture thoughts just beyond her reach.
“Aren’t you driving the bus tomorrow?” Ida Belle asked.
Mercy rolled her eyes. “I’ve been grounded by Carter because of my little incident, and I can’t drive until he gives me a road test. Maybe I’ll send the Boogie Man to take my test.”
“What are you talking about?” Gertie cast a worried look at Mercy.
“Oh, I’m just kidding.” She explained her earlier episode with Carter and the resulting sarcastic remark. Then she shrugged. “Well, I’ll use the opportunity to check out the festival.”
“You’ll be vulnerable in a crowd with so many strangers,” Gertie cautioned.
“I’ll take care,” Mercy said.
“You can do better than that,” Gertie announced with a smile. “Come spend the night at my house, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
A night away from the motel? Mercy tapped the back of Ida Belle’s seat. “Home, driver.” She joked, but inside she was torn by conflict. Her friends weren’t the sort to make rash accusations, but she was sure Spence wasn’t capable of murder. Maybe tomorrow she would remember something that would change their minds and point to the real killer.