2 A Deadly Beef (22 page)

"Okay,
what else?" Moose asked.

"I’m
probably crazy for agreeing to do this, but that just shows how desperate I
am.  Just in case someone sees through this ruse, I’m going to have
two men guarding Ron around the clock.  I don’t want someone
slipping in and killing him while we’re putting on our little
play."

"That
makes sense," I agreed.  "So, should we go ahead and let them
know what’s happening?"

"Hold
your horses.  I’m going to need at least an hour to set things up at
the hospital."  He looked at his watch, and then added,
"Don’t do a thing until you hear from me first.  Do you
understand?"

Moose
and I both agreed, and then we got out of there before the sheriff could change
his mind.  I fully realized that his agreement had much more to do with
his own investigation’s lack of progress than the brilliance of our plan,
but at least we were doing something proactive.

I just
hoped that the killer would be desperate enough to act rashly and give himself
away.

"Could
someone please tell me why there are half a dozen people dressed in turkey
costumes in my diner?" I asked Moose as we walked into The Charming
Moose.

"Don’t
ask me; I was with you, remember?  Hey, they all have numbers on their
backs," he said.  Moose turned to his wife and asked, "Martha,
did we miss something?"

"It’s
the First Annual Turkey Trot And Run For Your Life Race," she said as she
held a flyer up for us to see.  "You two didn’t get so wrapped
up in this murder investigation that you forgot about it, did you?"

"But
the race is in Laurel Landing," I said.  "Why are they eating
here?"

"It’s
on their way to the race," she said.

I
looked at their plates, each full of enough calories to float a
battleship.  "How are they going to run after eating all of that?"

"I
asked them the same thing," Martha said with a smile.  "It
turns out there’s a serious race, and then there’s a Turkey Strut
that goes for a half mile.  The winner isn’t the first one who
crosses the finish line, but the one who provides the best imitation of a
turkey walking.  You should see them do it.  It’s hilarious,
though Tammy Johnson’s son, Kyle, started crying when they all strutted
in together in sync."

"That’s
no great surprise.  Kyle cries when it’s sunny outside," I
said.  "The boy can start sobbing at the drop of a hat."

"What
have you two been up to?" Martha asked.

"We’re
plotting something," Moose said as he winked at her.

"I’d
be disappointed in you both if you weren’t," she answered. 
"So, are you back for good, or am I still on duty?"

"Would
you mind finishing the shift?  I’ve got a hunch that we’re
going to be called away again soon."

"Take
all the time you need," Martha said.  "I forgot how
entertaining it could be around here."  She hesitated, and then
added, "But don’t you go getting any ideas, Victoria. 
I’m retired, and I mean it."

"Yes,
ma’am," I answered with a grin.  "I’ve got
it."  I turned to my grandfather and asked, "Are you
hungry?  We have time to eat."

"I
could go for a turkey sandwich," he said loudly, clearly trying to goad
our new costumers.

It
worked beyond his wildest expectations.  The ‘turkeys’ all
started gobbling at once, got up from their seats in unison, and started
strutting wildly around the diner.  After a full ten seconds, they
returned to their seats and roosted, quieting down as they settled back
in.  Many of the diners burst into applause when they were finished, and
there were some appreciative clucks from the bird imitators.

Greg
had popped his head out the window at the first explosion of sound, and when we
made eye contact, he winked at me and grinned.  I blew him a kiss, and
then I returned his smile in full.

"If
you do that again, I’m going to wring your neck," I said softly as
I turned back to my grandfather.

"Careful,
or they might hear you," he said, shaking his head.  I could see him
trying to hide a smile, but it was clear enough to me that he was fighting
massive amusement.  "Message received.  I’m guessing they
aren’t big fans of neck-wringing."

Thirty
minutes later, my cell phone rang, and I answered it before it had a chance to
ring a second time.

"Sheriff?"
I asked before I even looked at the Caller ID.

"That
was fast," Sheriff Croft said.  "We’re all set
here."

"Did
you have any problems?" I asked, amazed that he’d been able to
accomplish something I wasn’t certain was possible.

"Let’s
just say that I used up enough favors so that this better work," he said.

"What
other choice do we have?" I asked.

"That’s
a good point.  I’m still not crazy about you and Moose putting
yourself in harm’s way.  If we’re right about our list of
suspects, there’s a good chance that you’re going to be baiting a
killer; you realize that, don’t you?"

"The
way I see it, we’re both perfectly safe.  After all, nobody’s
going to take a chance trying to kill either one of us when they have to keep
it a secret that they have a crucial interest in Ron Watkins’s
wellbeing."

"That’s
assuming that the murderer is a rational human being.  Don’t ever do
that, Victoria.  It could get you killed."

"I
promise that I’ll be careful, and don’t forget, Moose will be with
me the entire time."

"And
that’s supposed to make me feel better how exactly?" he asked.

"Don’t
forget, Sheriff, we’ve done this before," I reminded him.

"All
it takes is one slip to be dead forever," Sheriff Croft reminded me.

I
didn’t like the way our conversation was heading.  It was time to
get off the phone with him before he changed his mind completely about our
plan.

"We’ll
call you later," I said, and then I started to hang up.

I
could hear him saying something else in the background, but I killed the call
before he had the chance. 

Grabbing
Moose’s arm, I said, "We’re on."

"It’s
about time," my grandfather said, and we headed for the door without even
stopping to say goodbye to our loved ones.  Moose and I had to find our
suspects and tell them the false news as soon as we could.  It was hard to
tell how long the sheriff could keep the trap open, and if it was going to
work, we needed it to do its magic tonight, or risk losing the chance forever.

Chapter 14

"Who
should we tackle first?" I asked Moose as we pulled out of the diner.

"Why
don’t we start with the suspects who are likely in town? 
There’s a better chance of finding them quickly, and then we can track
the others down after that."

"Sounds
good to me," I said. 

In
just a few minutes, we were in front of The Suds Center.  I was happy to
see that Penny was there, but she was on the phone, having an animated
conversation with someone.

"Can
we talk?" I asked her softly as we walked in the door.

Penny
put her hand over the phone.  "Is it important?  I’m
trying to wrap things up here.  If this call works out, I might just have
a buyer for the place."

"Call
them back.  Trust us; you’ll want to hear this," Moose said.

Penny
frowned, and then she said to her caller, "Sheila, someone’s here
who is insistent about talking to me.  Do you mind?  Okay.  Two
minutes, I promise."  After she closed her telephone, she said,
"You heard me.  You’ve got a couple of minutes, so talk
fast."

"We
don’t even need that long," I said.  "We’re here
to share some good news.  Ron Watkins is coming out of his coma, and
he’s starting to talk.  His memory’s still a little foggy, but
the doctors are saying that by morning, he should be able to tell them what
really happened to him."

Penny
frowned.  "I thought they already
knew
what happened.  A
tool chest fell on his head, right?"

"That’s
what the police want to know, whether it was an accident, or an attempt on his
life."

"Okay,
I’m sure that’s all well and good, but why bother telling me? 
I told you before, Ron and I were never what you’d call close."

"But
you were close to Wally, and don’t try to deny it.  Whoever killed
Wally was most likely the person who attacked Ron."

"Like
I told you before, Wally and I were casual.  He had a crush on me all that
time, but I couldn’t bring myself to date somebody I thought of as
Jan’s little brother, at least not seriously."

"You
two were close in high school, weren’t you?"

Penny
shrugged.  "With Sally, we were the Three Musketeers.  But that
was a long time ago.  We all barely even talk now."

I had
a hunch, and decided to follow up on it.  "That’s because of
the car accident you all had, right?"

"Who
told you about that?" Penny asked, clearly surprised by the abrupt turn
in our conversation.  "Has someone been talking?"

I
could see that Moose was just as curious as Penny was, but I’d have to
deal with my grandfather later.  "They never figured out which one
of you was driving, did they?"

"Does
it matter, at this point?"

"It
might help to get your side of the story out there," I said.

"Did
somebody say I was behind the wheel?  That’s a big, fat lie. 
Sally was driving, at least when we wrecked.  We were all drinking, taking
turns behind the wheel, but I didn’t hit that bridge.  We were lucky
to get out of it alive.  Jan left town soon after, and Sally and I stopped
hanging out.  It’s ancient history, Victoria."  She
looked as though she’d just eaten something unpleasant.  "Is
there anything else I can do for you?  I really don’t have to time
to rehash old memories."

 "We
just thought that the news about Ron was important enough to share,"
Moose said.

Penny
waved a hand in the air.  "So, you’ve shared." 
Without another word to us, she picked up her phone, but I stopped her by putting
a hand on her arm.

"One
more thing," I said.  "What’s the real reason
you’re leaving town?  We don’t believe that you’re going
just because you decided you needed a change of scenery.  What
happened?"

"Nothing!"
she snapped as she jerked her arm free.  Penny dialed a number on her
phone, and a few seconds later, she said, "Sheila, I’m back. 
Tell them they have to come up with five grand more, or the deal is off. 
Is it true?  Of course not, I’m bluffing, but try to get more money,
anyway.  Do I need to do your job for you?"

We
left her, and Moose said, "Well, that was interesting.  How did you
know who really wrecked the car?  Did someone talk?"

"Nobody,"
I admitted.  "It was just an educated guess."

"Good
work," Moose said.  "You had me going there for a
second.  Do you know why Penny’s leaving, or were you just guessing
there, too?"

"I
was on a roll, so I thought I’d go for it.  I don’t know,
Moose.  Maybe she’s telling us the truth about why she’s
going.  When she was telling us about feeling awkward dating Jan’s
little brother, I believed her.  It would explain why Wally took it so
hard if he had a crush on her all those years.  The more we talk to Penny,
the less inclined I am to believe that she’s the killer we’re looking
for."

"You
could be right," my grandfather said, "but I’m not willing to
mark her name off our list until we find something more concrete than a gut
reaction."

"That’s
fine, but we need to keep moving.  Let’s go talk to Dave," I
said.  "Maybe we’ll be able to get something out of him,
too."

"All
we can do is try, and if nothing else, we can at least deliver our
message."

We
found Dave Evans stocking cases of bottled water at his grocery store, and he
looked quite a bit worse for the wear from his time drinking earlier.

"Dave,
do you have a second?" Moose asked as we approached.

"Lower
your voice, would you?  My head’s killing me," Dave said as he
rubbed his temples.

"Sorry
about that," Moose said in a softer voice.  "We just got back
from the hospital, and we thought you’d like to know what’s going
on.  Ron’s out of his coma, and he’s starting to come
around.  They said that by tomorrow morning, he should be able to tell the
police what really happened to him in Wally’s barn."

"Just
like that?" Dave asked, now rubbing the back of his neck with both
hands.  The man looked truly miserable.  "Funny, I thought he
was supposed to be out of it for quite a while.  That’s good news
for Ron.  Listen, I’m sorry to be rude, but I’m in the middle
of one killer hangover, and I’m not in any mood to chat."

"We
understand," I said.  "Well, we need to run.  Hope
you’re feeling better soon."

Dave
didn’t answer, but just shook his head again, and then grimaced from the
motion.

Once
we were back out in the truck, I asked Moose, "Could you tell anything from
his reaction to the news?"

"Just
that he’s as hung over as any man I’ve ever seen," Moose
said.  "I doubt that Dave’s going to spring our trap, not
unless he’s faking how bad he feels.  Victoria, this is
useless."

"Don’t
despair," I said.  "We’re doing this to set our trap,
remember?  We won’t know if we’re having any luck until we
find out if the killer steps into it or not."

"I
suppose you’re right," Moose said, "but I’m still
hoping for some kind of spectacular confession when someone hears the news."

"Well,
I doubt that’s going to happen, but we have two more folks to tell, so
who knows?"

Moose
just shrugged.  "Should we talk to Sally Ketchum next, or go after
Jan Bain?"

I
looked down the street and saw our last two suspects coming out of
Rebecca’s office together.  "We’re in luck," I
said as I got out of the truck and started toward them.