2 A Deadly Beef (24 page)

"Apparently
he’s doing great," I said, lying cheerfully. 
"Isn’t that wonderful news?"

"It
sure is," Dave said, though his sincerity was suspect.  Trying to
act casual, he asked, "Is he talking yet?"

"No,
but that’s understandable.  They’re going to leave him alone
tonight so he can get some rest.  It probably won’t be until
morning," I said.  "Is there anything in particular you think
he might say when he comes out of it?"

Dave shook
his head.  "Nothing I can think of.  I’ve been thinking, Victoria, and I wonder if they can even trust what he tells them after a blow to the head
like the one he took.  The man could have delusions that seem perfectly
real to him."

"I
never thought about that possibility," I said.  It appeared that
Dave was already laying the groundwork for his denial of whatever Ron might
say.

"You
should.  Who knows?  He might blame one of us for who knows
what.  Then again, he could come up with wild stories about Penny, Sally,
or Jan."

"Why
would he do that?"

"Well,
you know that he and Penny never really got along.  He told me that once
when she showed up at the grocery store while he was making a delivery. 
As for Sally, working for her and Wally, he could have delusions of some kind
of conspiracy between them.  Jan was nearby on the property when he got
hit in the head, so who knows what he might say about her?"

"I’m
curious, Dave.  What exactly are you worried about that he might have to
say about you?" I asked.  There had to be a reason that Dave was
sitting there doing his best to plant suspicions about all of our suspects in
my mind.

"You
really don’t expect me to know what might be going through his head, do
you? I can’t even guess what the man might say."  Dave brooded
a little as he took another sip of coffee, and then he pulled a dollar bill out
of his jacket.  "Thanks for the coffee."

"There’s
no need to rush off, is there?  Greg made a great meatloaf today. 
Can I get you a plate?"

"Sorry,
but there’s no time.  I’ve got to get back to work, you
know."

After
Dave was gone, Moose approached me and asked, "What was that all
about?"

"Good
old Dave just tried to sell me on the ridiculous idea that whatever Ron might
tell us after he wakes up is going to be questionable.  I’ve got an
uneasy feeling about that man.  He hasn’t been himself lately, has
he?"

"I
have to admit that his drunken display surprised me," Moose
admitted.  "Are you going to call the sheriff and tell him what Dave
just said?"

"Should
I?" I asked.

"What
can it hurt?  He should know that Dave’s making the rounds talking
about Ron.  Is it that farfetched to believe that he might be laying the
groundwork for another murder?"

"I’m
not sure, but you’re right.  What could it hurt?"

The
only problem was that the sheriff wouldn’t pick up his phone.  I
waited for the beep, and then I left a message.  It was all I could do,
short of calling the hospital and having him paged.  I knew that he
wouldn’t appreciate that, and I didn’t need a psychic to tell me that
it was true.

It
felt as though the next two hours were several weeks long.  I must have
glanced at my phone a thousand times, willing it to ring, though always in
vain.  When it finally rang just after we locked the doors for the night,
Moose and I both dove for it. 

I was
closer, but I still barely beat my grandfather to it.

"Hello?"
I asked.  "Did you catch Dave trying to kill Ron?"

"No,"
the sheriff answered.  "We never saw him."

I was
disappointed to hear the news.  "I could have sworn he was the
one."

"Don’t
sound so sad," the sheriff said a little joyfully.  "We did
manage to catch someone.  Jan Bain came by the room, and she was nearly to
the bed by the time I caught her."

I
turned to Moose.  "It was Jan."

He
shook his head in wonder, and I got back to the phone.  "Did she
actually try to kill him?"

"She
might as well have.  She was holding a knitting needle in her hand as she
rushed to the bed, and I’m willing to bet that the woman was ten seconds
away from plunging it into the dummy’s back."

"Wow. 
Did she confess to killing her brother?"

The
sheriff sighed.  "No, she won’t even admit what she was trying
to do to the dummy.  Jan claims she just came by to say goodbye to her
part-time handyman on her way out of town, but she’s not very convincing.  
Don’t worry.  We’ll crack her now that we know it was
her."

"Are
you sure?" I asked.

"It’s
just a matter of time now," the sheriff said.  "I have a hunch
we’ll have a full confession to everything by morning."

"That’s
not what I meant.  How can you be sure that she’s the killer?"

The
sheriff sighed again.  It seemed that I wasn’t making his life any
easier.  "Victoria, I thought you’d be happier than you
clearly are that someone took the bait.  She tried to say that the
knitting needle in her hand was a coincidence, but if you saw how quickly she
approached that body, there wouldn’t be any doubt in your mind."

"Sheriff,
she closes in on everyone as though she’s in full attack mode. 
I’m not so sure that she’s the one we’ve been looking
for."

"You’re
just having doubts because you weren’t here to see it with your own
eyes," the sheriff said.  "Believe me, we’ve got our
killer.  You can rest easy.  I’ve got a lot to do, but I wanted
to call you and let you know what happened.  You deserved that much."

After
he ended the call, I shook my head as I told Moose, "He thinks he’s
got the killer."

"You
don’t, though, do you?" my grandfather asked.

"I
suppose in a way that it all makes sense, but I was sure it was one of the
others," I said.

"We
can’t be choosy beggars," Moose said.  "We wanted
someone to fall for our trap.  We can’t help it if it wasn’t
who we were expecting."

"I
suppose you’re right," I said.  The whole thing was credible,
if I looked at it that way.  After all, I’d had a great deal invested
in our plan since it had been mine, and to my amazement, it had actually
yielded results.  "I just can’t believe that Jan actually
killed her brother."

"In
hindsight, we probably should have focused more on her in the first place, when
you think about it," Moose said.  "After all, she had the most
to gain financially from his death, and a lot of times, that’s the motive
that counts."

"For
what it’s worth," I said, "it turned out that she was getting
a lot less after the house burned down.  Why would she do that,
anyway?  Doesn’t it make sense that whoever killed Wally and
attacked Ron set that fire, as well?  By lighting that match, it turned
out to be the worst thing that could have happened, as far as she was
concerned."

"Maybe
this time it really was just a coincidence," Moose said.

"I
don’t believe in them; you know that," I said.

"Well,
I refuse to consider the possibility that it was Abel Link.  Who
knows?  Maybe Jan did it after all.  We’ve both heard her on
more than one occasion say how much she hates Jasper Fork.  It could be
that it was the only way she could put it behind her, once and forever."

"That
I can believe," I said.

Greg
came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.  "I just
finished cleaning the grill.  How’s it going out here?" 
He looked around and saw that we hadn’t done a single thing we needed to
do to clean up the front.  "You two haven’t even gotten
started."

"We
just got a phone call from the sheriff," I said.  "He caught
Jan Bain in Ron’s room with a knitting needle in her hand."

"That’s
good news, right?"

"I
guess it is," I said, trying to feel the smile I was showing. 
"Honestly, we’re just still in shock.  Don’t
worry.  I’ll have the front cleaned up in no time."

"We’ll
pitch in, too, right, Moose?" Greg asked.

"Absolutely. 
Victoria, you take the register, and your husband and I will tackle the grunt
work cleaning."

"That’s
not fair," I said.  "What if the register balances the first
time?"

"Martha
was working the cash register most of the day," Moose said, "and as
much as I love my wife, detail work is not her strong suit these days. 
She may have done okay yesterday, but I’m willing to bet that it’s
not going to happen two days in a row."  After he said it, my
grandfather added, "And if either one of you whispers a word of that to
my wife, you’re both out of my will."

"We
promise," Greg and I said in unison.

I ran
the report, and as Moose had expected, it was off by six dollars and ninety two
cents.  I just hope that amount was spread out over the day, and that one poor
customer didn’t lose it all.

I made
a phantom entry, attributed it to "cashier errors," and finished
up.

"How
much was it off?" Moose asked.

"I’m
not saying," I replied.

"Is
it over ten dollars, or under?" Greg asked.

I studied
them both, and then asked, "Why are you both so suddenly interested in
this?  You don’t have a bet going, do you?"

They
both glanced down at the floor for an instant, and I knew that I’d picked
a winner.

"You
should both be ashamed of yourselves," I said.

"It
was just a little harmless fun," Greg said.

"We
didn’t mean anything by it," Moose added.

I
shook my head, and then I looked at both of them.  "There’s
quite a bit of work left here cleaning up, so I suggest you both get to
it."

"Where
are you going to be?" Greg asked.

I
started for the front door and said, "After I drop this off at the
bank’s night deposit, I’m going home."

"I
guess that’s fair enough," Greg said.

"Speak
for yourself," Moose answered.

I
turned to my grandfather and said, "If this place isn’t perfect
when I get here in the morning, I’m telling on you."

"You
wouldn’t dare," Moose said.

"Do
you want to try me?" I asked with a grin.

Greg
handed the mop in his hand to Moose.  "Why take the chance? 
You get the floor, and I’ll start on the tables."

I left
the diner, laughing as I did.

But I
wasn’t laughing for long when someone stuck a gun in my face.

Evidently
my hunch had been on the money.

The
sheriff hadn’t found the real killer.

Not
that I could claim to have done it myself.

It turned
out that the killer had found me.

Chapter 16

"Sally,
what are you doing?" I asked as the steel barrel of the handgun brushed
against my cheek.

"Don’t
play stupid with me," Sally said.  "Let’s go. 
We’re going for a little ride."

I knew
that my only chance was signaling my husband and my grandfather, but she must
have known I would think of that.  "If you call them right now,
you’ll
all
die.  Victoria, you’ll be dead in a second,
and all they’ll hear is a muffled shot.  When they come out to
investigate, I’ll shoot them before they get through the door, and the
beauty of it is, neither one of them will ever see it coming."

"Don’t
kill them," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.  Clearly
she’d thought this out.

"Then
listen to me," she said.  "If you come with me now, at least
they’ll both have a fighting chance when I come back for them
later."

"I’ll
go without a fight," I said.  I wouldn’t allow myself to be
responsible for their deaths in even the remotest way.  I’d give up
my own life if it meant giving the two of them a chance.

"That’s
the spirit," she said.  "Now, move."

I led
the way to her truck, and for some odd and erratic reason I found myself
wishing that I’d brought a heavier jacket, and as I got into the
passenger seat, I thought about lunging over and blowing her horn.  It
could be the only way I could give the men in my life a chance to respond to my
kidnapping without stepping directly into an ambush.  At least we were far
enough away from the front door that they’d have a fighting chance.

But I
knew that neither man was armed, and a baseball bat didn’t stand a chance
against a gun in a fight.

I
decided to wait for an opportunity to get away that didn’t involve
jeopardizing the life of either man I loved so dearly.

As we
drove, I didn’t even have to ask where we were going.  Sally was set
on a straight course to her farm, and why wouldn’t she take care of me
there?  After all, she was familiar with the territory, she could hide my
body if she had to, and no one would be the wiser.

I had
to do something, but with that gun pointing across her body directly at me
while she drove, it wasn’t time just yet.

Maybe
I could distract her long enough by getting her to talk so I could come up with
something that might save my life.

Otherwise,
I didn’t stand a chance.

"Would
you mind telling me why you’ve done all of this?" I asked
her.  "It’s pretty clear that I’m not going to live long
enough to tell anyone else."

Sally
smiled over at me, as though I’d just complimented her on her dress. 
Had the woman completely lost her mind?  "Why not?  I must say,
though, I thought you were smarter than you turned out to be.  You really
don’t have a clue, do you?"

"I’m
not afraid to admit it.  You outsmarted us all at every turn," I
said.  If I could get her to keep underestimating me, maybe I could use it
to my advantage when it counted.

She
chuckled.  "Don’t feel bad.  I’ve been fooling the
cops for years."

"Why
did you get rid of Wally?"