| |
Fred looked disappointed as I drove past the drive-thru and around the restaurant. I didn’t want to risk waiting in line for Fred’s sandwich and hoped the cops would be too busy ordering to notice me leaving. He didn’t seem any happier when I promised to get him his plain McDoubles on the return trip, but first we needed to see if the sheriff was still at the farm.
***
I AVOIDED THE FARM and approached the cemetery from the south. When I didn’t see any other vehicles on the road I parked in nearly the same place as the night before. The cemetery was nearly as spooky during the daylight as when I’d stumbled on the corpse the night before. The only trees with leaves were some skinny cedars. All the hardwoods, which dominated the cemetery, were still dormant. Their bare branches didn’t help to allay the feeling the place might be haunted. Except for a giant oak with branches that seemed to be waiting to reach out and snatch anyone who got too close, I didn’t have a clue what the other trees were. I recognized the oak tree from a history lesson Bonnie had given me about Missouri during the Civil War. I’d asked if she’d been mistaken about Captain Scott having been a Confederate officer because Missouri never seceded from the Union. She told me that most of Southern Missouri wanted the South to win and had no tolerance for Northern sympathizers. It wasn’t uncommon to lynch local boys who joined the Union Army from tall oak trees.
Just because there were no cops on the road didn’t mean they weren’t there. For all I knew, they could be waiting for me on the other side of the cemetery, but it was more likely they were at the scene of the crime and parked in Crammer’s drive...if they hadn’t already left. The stone building that had protected us from Crammer’s gunshot should allow me to spy on the farm without being seen in case they were still there. The only way I’d know for sure was to walk over to the building and peek around the corner. It was the best plan I could come up with on such short notice. Fred had other plans. He jumped out the driver’s door and ran toward the cemetery the second I opened the door.
“Get back here, Fred!” I yelled and ran after him.
My shout sounded like I’d used a PA system. The hard walls of the stone outbuilding amplified my voice tenfold. Fred stopped in his tracks and stood with his tail between his legs. So much for stealth. I ran past the stone shack to get him, and froze when I saw an old pickup truck parked by the barn. I grabbed my dog and hid behind a big tree, and not a second too soon. A giant of a man came out the side door of the barn and looked over in our direction. I gauged his size on the way he had to duck coming out of the door. Modern doors are six feet, eight inches. The barn was far from modern, so I doubted if he was that tall, but there was no doubt about his width, he had to turn sideways to get through the door.
After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, the giant turned around and went back into the barn. I didn’t know how long I’d have to fetch my flashlight, and I didn’t want to chance Fred running away again, so I took him back to the Jeep. This time I only left the window open a crack so even an octopus couldn’t get out, and headed back toward the cemetery.
My luck only got worse. The barbed wire fence I’d scooted under the night before had been cut and there were tire tracks leading to the pit I’d fallen in. Evidently, the sheriff had found the body, and probably my flashlight, but I’d never know if I didn’t look. At least I didn’t have to shimmy under barbed wire. Not only had it been cut, they’d also removed one of the posts holding the wire in place. I was just about to enter the cemetery when I heard the blare of a car horn coming from Bonnie’s Jeep. I’m sure I jumped high enough to set a new world’s record in the pole vault without a pole. Fred must have stood on the steering wheel in an attempt to escape through the window. The horn stopped almost as soon as it had begun, but not soon enough. The giant came lumbering out of the barn with a shotgun in his hands. I ran back to the Jeep faster than the rabbit at a greyhound track. Within seconds, I had the Jeep started and turned around. Then before I could repeat last night’s performance, I saw the old truck in my mirrors race out the farm’s driveway and head in the opposite direction.
Fred watched, too, but from the safety of the passenger seat where I didn’t need to worry about him honking the horn again. “I suppose if you could talk, you’d take credit for scaring him off, wouldn’t you?”
He turned back around and looked at me with a tilt of his head.
I took his big head in my hands and rubbed his forehead with mine before telling him of my new plan. “We got lucky this time, you clumsy oaf. It’s time we went to see the sheriff and confess. I’m sure you’ll get used to jail food after a while.”
***
I HAD NO TROUBLE FINDING a parking spot along the curb in front of an abandoned movie theater. Except for more boarded up shops and out of business signs than I remembered from my trip a few years ago, nothing seemed to have changed much in Truman’s town square. The sheriff’s office was across the street from the courthouse, only twenty yards away. The incident at Crammer’s convinced me I’d better tell the sheriff about the body I’d found before he linked me to the crime. My fingerprints were all over my flashlight, and it wouldn’t be long before they came looking for me.
The sheriff’s office hadn’t changed a bit since my last visit. I found myself in a small room with a glass window separating the visitors from the front counter. There was an empty bench along the opposite wall and the remaining wall had a single door I assumed was locked because of the card reader next to it. The white-haired woman behind the glass looked up from a magazine she’d been reading. She put the magazine aside and slid open a small window, but not before I caught a glimpse of the cover. The magazine was one of those “supermarket trash rags,” as my mother used to call them. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Uh, I think I need to talk to someone.”
She raised her eyebrows and lowered her glasses. “Why don’t you tell me your problem, son, so I know who to call?”
“Is something wrong, Connie?”
My back had been turned to the door leading to the offices and jail, and I quickly turned to see a uniformed officer with his hand resting on his holstered gun. He immediately raised his hand when he saw my face. “Speaking of the devil. I was just talking to my deputy about you, Jake.”
The officer was none other than Sergeant Bennett whom I helped solve a string of murders the last time I was here. I shook his hand, wondering how fast he could run if I decided to bolt. “Your deputy, Sergeant? Did you get a promotion?”
Bennett smiled and released my hand. I now knew what it would be like to tighten the jaws of a vise on my hand. “You’ve been out of the loop for awhile, Jake. It’s Sheriff Bennett now.” His smile was wider than any I’d ever seen on Barney from The Andy Griffith Show. The resemblance was less noticeable than three years ago, but still there. I suppose it was because Bennett had put on a few pounds—quite a few.
I realized my mistake after noticing the stars on his lapel. “Congratulations, Sheriff.”
Bennett dropped his smile and narrowed his eyes. “So, Jake, what are you doing in our little, backwater town?”
“Sorry about that,” I said, lowering my eyes sheepishly. “I didn’t write the blurb in the book. It was my publisher.” It was a lie, for I published my own books and had indeed written the blurb describing Truman as a little, backwater town.
Bennett’s posture relaxed and the corners of his eyes raised a millimeter. “It’s okay, Jake. Except for the reference to Barney Fife, I enjoyed the book. At least you didn’t take all the credit for solving those murders. But let’s cut to the chase and go back to my office so you can tell us what you were doing at Crammer’s last night.”
Bennett missed seeing my mouth fall open when he turned to lead the way to his office.
Sitting in a chair facing Bennett’s desk was a woman wearing designer jeans and a KC Chiefs’ sweatshirt. She either worked out a lot, or had the luck of having an athletic body, but the gray roots in her blond hair hinted at someone who was older than she looked. “Kelly, look who just walked in.”
She had already turned toward the door when we entered but didn’t stand. She paused for a second, as if to study me, before answering the sheriff. “Even without the Rockies cap, I’d say it’s our main suspect, Jacob Martin.”
Bennett laughed. Did it mean she was joking? “I’d like for you to meet Deputy Kelly Brown, Jake. They don’t come any smarter.”
She finally rose, and I held out my hand. She towered over Bennett and nearly met my eyes. I quickly judged her to be about six feet tall. “Thanks for coming in, Jake. I wanted to put out an APB on you, but Chris said you’d show up sooner or later.” She glanced over at Bennett when she said it and winked. It made me think there might be a little more going on here than met the eye.
Her grip wasn’t as strong as Bennett’s, but it wasn’t weak either. I wouldn’t want to get into an arm wrestling match with her anytime soon. I decided I’d better play dumb until I knew for sure they had my flashlight. “Why would you do that? Did I forget to pay a parking ticket the last time I was here?”
Brown must not have liked my little joke, because she shook her head. Her eyes narrowed and I could feel them burrowing into my brain. “Would you like to tell us what you were doing at Crammer’s in the middle of the night?”
“Crammer?”
“Come on, Mr. Martin. I don’t have time to play games. We have a reliable witness that places you at the scene of the crime.”
“Crime? What crime?”
The deputy rolled her eyes and turned toward Bennett. “Can I lock him up now? Maybe a day or two in one of our four-star cells will help him remember.”
Bennett smiled and went to sit behind his desk. “Sit down, both of you, please.”
Deputy Brown didn’t take her eyes off me as we both sat in a couple of hard, wooden chairs facing the sheriff. She finally turned away when Bennett spoke. “I can vouch for Jake, Kelly. He’s no murderer. A meddler perhaps, but not a murderer.”
I forced a laugh. Obviously, they hadn’t discovered my flashlight when they’d loaded the corpse into whatever vehicle had left the tire tracks. I decided I’d keep quiet about it for now with the hope I could still get the flashlight before they did.
“Fred’s the real meddler. I just go along for the ride.”
Bennett’s eyes lit up. “How is Fred by the way?”
“He’s great. I would have brought him in but...” I was interrupted when Deputy Brown’s cell went off. “Brown here, I’m in a meeting. Is it important?”
The room went silent as both Bennett and I tried to listen. All I heard was what sounded like a man’s voice, saying something about the farm. I doubt if Bennett heard as much as he was several feet further away from the phone.
“Okay, hold on a minute,” she said, cutting off the caller, and turned to Bennett. “I’ll take this outside, Sir,” she said and left the room.
Bennett waited until she shut the door and then continued like the call was routine. “Deputy Brown has been assigned to the Crammer case, Jake. I don’t think she’ll be as tolerant as I was if she thinks you’re interfering with her first murder. She’s read your file and may be a little jealous, so please don’t try to solve this one.”
I barely heard a word the sheriff said. My mind was racing. Had someone just found my flashlight? Was that what the call was about? It might look a whole lot better if I told them everything I knew before it was too late.
Deputy Brown came back before I could decide what to do. I was relieved, in a way, I because I knew I’d have said something stupid or incriminating. She took her seat with no mention of why she’d been called away.
The room was awkwardly silent for a moment, and when it was obvious the call was none of my business, Bennett turned his attention to me. “You never did answer Deputy Brown’s question, Jake.” He was all business again.
“Fred and I were checking names on tombstones,” I said, looking at her instead of Bennett.
She looked over at the sheriff before turning toward me. “Fred?”
“My best friend. He’s a Golden Retriever.”
She tried not to smile, but her eyes gave her away. “Oh. And why were you checking tombstones in the middle of the night?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was almost noon. “It’s a long story. Maybe you’d like to hear it over lunch?”
Bennett looked up at the clock the second I said lunch. “Where does the time go? I think that’s an excellent idea, Jake.”
He stood and reached for his wallet, extracted a couple of tens, and gave them to his deputy. “I’ll expect a report on my desk by this evening.” He didn’t wait for her response and left the room.
She stuffed the money in a small shoulder purse before turning her attention to me. I felt her gray eyes trying to read my mind again. I didn’t look away, and it looked like we might end up in a staring match, but her concentration broke when her cell phone went off again. She made no effort to hide the pistol I saw on her belt when she reached for her phone. I hadn’t noticed it before because her KC Royals sweat-shirt had hidden it when she was sitting.
She looked at me without blinking an eye. “Do you mind stepping outside while I take this? And don’t think about leaving, Mr. Martin. We’re not finished despite what Chris thinks.”
I did as the deputy told me and waited outside the sheriff’s office. The hall was as empty as a Santa Claus convention in July. Even the receptionist who’d been behind the glass window was gone. These people took lunch seriously. I tried looking into the room by holding my hands up against the window to act as blinders, wondering where everyone had gone. There had been four restaurants downtown the last time I’d been here, and I’d only counted two still open on my way in earlier. If memory served correctly, they all had terrible coffee. My mind soon drifted to more urgent matters.
The feeling that something was going on with the sheriff and his deputy resurged when he’d given her cash for lunch. I also asked myself how many deputies can get away with calling their boss by his first name. Those thoughts evaporated when I remembered why I had come here in the first place.
I began to second guess my split decision of not mentioning the body when I realized it hadn’t been discovered yet. Then again, maybe I still had time to retrieve my flashlight before they did; or maybe not. Someone had driven a vehicle up to the grave. It must have been so they could load the body, but why hide it from me? Neither Bennett nor Brown hinted at finding the corpse, and the more I thought about it, the tire tracks were far too narrow to be the coroner’s van. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to recall the scene. That’s when I realized the tracks were more like tractor or UTV tires.
My daydreaming was interrupted when Deputy Brown came out of Bennett’s office. I still had my hands up to the glass window, though my mind had been elsewhere.
“Looking for something?” She caught me before I could look away.
“Just wondering where everyone went. Do they all take off at lunch time?”
She didn’t answer, and stood still, staring with her radar eyes again. Her frown said more than words ever could. “Our lunch will have to wait. We need to take a little ride.”
“Can I meet you wherever you’re going? Fred’s in the car and will need to stretch his legs, among other things.”
Her lips opened slightly and her left eyebrow raised showing worry lines around her eyes. “Fred? Oh, yeah, your mutt. No, bring him with us.”
Without another word, I followed her out of the building. Something told me not to try to get ahead of her to hold the door open for her.