Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 13 (26 page)

"That's not fair," he said, pouting. "I was here all afternoon. Can't Bonita take the next shift?"

"No, she can't. Once everyone's asleep, you can sit in your car, but keep the windows down and try not to snore."

"But Duluth's in custody. Can't I at least go back to town and have a decent meal?"

I was quite the center of attention as I debated his request. Bonita clearly wanted him to dine on grubs and toadstools. Ruby Bee, who would be serving pie and refilling iced tea glasses at her own funeral, was likely to invite him to the lodge for pizza. Judith and Naomi would have preferred that we leave once and for all.

To everyone's surprise, I said, "Okay, Corporal Robarts, follow me in your car. I'll drop Bonita and Mrs. Coldwater at the PD and then we can go to your house. Your mother invited me for supper. I'd pick up a bottle of wine if I could, but it's Sunday."

"Sunday in Dunkicker," said Judith. "What could be finer?"

I didn't have the nerve to ask her what she meant.

Raz left Marjorie in the front seat of the truck and made his way through the woods and under a barbed-wire fence to the back of Perkins's pond. He squatted and remained motionless, jest as he always did when revenooers was creeping around Cotter's Ridge. Bugs was drifting over the scummy green water and grasshoppers was whirrin' in the tall weeds. And, as luck would have it, Perkins's mule was chomping away near the fence.

"Mulie, mulie, mulie," crooned Raz, whose grandpappy had been a renowned mule charmer back in the days of the Great Depression. "Look what I got for you. Come on, mulie, mulie, mulie. It's real good, nigh onto two hundred proof of the county's finest white lightning."

The mule's ears quivered.

Raz made sure Perkins hadn't come out to the porch, then crept closer and took the lid off the jar. "You just mosey down this way and I'll give you a li'l taste to wet your whistle."

The mule moved away, its eyes wary.

Raz took a mouthful of 'shine and smacked his lips. "Reckon you don't know what yer missin, mulie. It's pure as mother's milk and jest as sweet. I'll bet that sumbitch Perkins makes you drink pond water. This here stuff's so clear you can see right through it and it sure as hell don't stink of dead fish. No sirree, this is good."

The one thing you shouldn't do to a mule is rush him, Grandpappy had always said. You had to take your time and give him a chance to get used to your voice, to figger out if you was friend or foe. Raz took another swallow, then put the lid back on and slithered under the fence.

Sooner or later, he thought, that ol' mule was goin'ta amble over and stick his snout in the jar. When the time came, Raz was plannin' to have a pair of wire cutters pokin' out of his back pocket.

Corporal Robarts, Ruby Bee, Bonita, and I went into the PD. Les, who'd found something to amuse himself, crammed the magazine back into the bottom drawer of Chief Panknine's desk and stood up.

"I caught the suspect trying to break into the hardware store down the street," he said.

"Very good," I murmured. "I need you to take Bonita back to the motel and Ruby Bee out to the lodge."

"Mrs. Coldwater's staying at the lodge?" said Corporal Robarts. "That seems kinda strange."

"Stranger than fiction," I agreed.

Bonita sat down. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Ruby Bee clucked under her breath. "You might ought to take a look at yourself in a mirror. If you'd been brawlin' at the bar, I'd have to think you were on the losing side. Why doncha come along to the lodge and have a nice hot piece of pizza? Afterward, you can sit on the porch with Estelle and me and tell us all about yourself. A nice girl like you shouldn't be sporting a black eye and a fat lip. Now Arly here -- "

"Enough," I said. "Maybe you should go with her, Bonita. When I get there, I can bring you back to the motel. You may be feeling okay at the moment, but you'll be needing another pain pill before too long."

Reverting to his John Wayne mode, Corporal Robarts slapped his weapon. "I'll stay here to guard the prisoner."

"You'll stay in this room while I talk to him," I said. "Go on, Les. You deserve pizza, too."

"And a bowl of cherry cobbler," said Ruby Bee, the siren of Stump County.

I waited until they left, then turned to Corporal Robarts. "As soon as I've had a few words with Duluth, we'll go have supper at your house."

"Shouldn't I call my mother and tell her we're coming?"

"You can call and tell her you've decided to shave your head and dance by the light of the moon. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I went down the hallway and stopped in front of the cell. Duluth sat on the edge of the bunk, glowering. His complexion was less greenish than it had been earlier, and his eyes were more yellow than red, which I assumed was a sign of recovery in the Buchanon clan.

"So, another alien visitor?" I said.

"I oughta be selling my story to one of those cable shows, but I'd just as soon go home and forget about it. Fer chrissake, Arly, all I did was get drunk. Even Sheriff Dorfer turns me loose after twelve hours."

I realized I hadn't told him what had happened the previous day. "Norella was found dead. It's pretty hard to ignore the fact that you came here looking for her."

"Dead? You sure?"

"Somebody went after her with a bat. Her body was left in a creek behind the softball field."

"What about my boys?"

"They're fine," I said, hoping they were. Judith and Naomi were far from Mary Poppins material, but I could not imagine either of them harming a child. "Why should I believe you never went to Camp Pearly Gates yesterday afternoon?"

"'Cause I didn't, dammit! I already told you that I sat in my truck and got drunk. If you'd known Norella, you'd understand. You ever run across a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and jerking ever' which way? Norella could get like that, 'specially when she was high on meth. I'd take the boys to her ma's house, then go to the Dew Drop to shoot some pool till I figured it was safe to go home."

I did my best to look sympathetic. "Must have been tough, Duluth. Let's talk about the call Norella made to her mother. A few days ago, you said?"

"That's when I heard about it. Do you think you can take off this damn cuff? I don't fancy pissing in my pants, but I'm gonna have no choice afore too long."

"You'll have to take your best shot at the sink. What exactly did Norella say to her mother?"

He made it clear I wasn't winning him over with my winsome smile. "Aw, hell, I don't know. She said she knew where to get enough money so's she could leave with the boys."

"Get money from where?"

"You wanna talk to Norella's mother, you call her. Any chance of getting a six-pack?"

"You drove over the River Styx on your way here," I said. "Live with it."

He was grousing as I went back into the office. Corporal Robarts looked no more genial than the prisoner, but I presumed he wasn't worried about wetting his pants.

"Is your mother expecting us?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's pleased as punch. You planning to scrape the shit off your shoes before we go?"

He was a boy whom only his mother could love. "What a charming idea," I gushed. "Willetta and I had a most intriguing conversation over fried chicken earlier today. She thinks you need a firm hand."

His face turned pink. "She didn't start on that, did she?"

"On what?" I asked. When he was unable to respond, I said, "Let's go, shall we?"

We took separate vehicles to his house. Willetta was in the foyer, her hands intertwined as if she'd been offering a prayer.

"How lovely of you to join us, Arly," she said. "Don't you agree, Anthony?"

"Yeah, right." He stomped upstairs; moments later, a door slammed.

"Anthony is so sensitive," she said as she took me to the dining room. "He was inconsolable when his puppy died last year."

She did not seem to realize the incongruity of her remark. I smiled and sat midway down the table. Beaming at me, she prattled on as though we were discussing brands of potting soil or the price of begonias. "May I assume you've solved this grisly crime? Dunkicker has always been a quiet little community. We've never had any violence of this sort."

"I wanted to ask you about Ester," I said.

"Ester?" she echoed.

"She cleaned for you, right?"

"Yes, but she was unsatisfactory. It's my understanding that she's gone. Ruth was the name of the woman who was killed yesterday. Why would you ask about Ester?"

"Why was she unsatisfactory?"

Willetta poured a glass of iced tea and put it by me. "Ester was a nice enough girl, reasonably attractive, soft-spoken, and really quite pleasant in her own way, but ... "

Anthony came into the dining room and sat down. "Just tell her, Mother. It's not like she's gonna sue you for badmouthin' her."

Willetta winced. "I offered Ester the opportunity to clean and cook, despite her lack of domestic skills. Within a week I began to notice things missing. At first, it was nothing more than change from my handbag or a trinket from my jewelry box. I tried to sit down with her, but she was defiant and angry. Then, well, sadly, the telephone bill came. Ester had made several long-distance calls that were charged to our account."

"Who did she call?" I asked.

"She'd made half a dozen calls to a number in Florida," Anthony said as he chomped down on a drumstick. "When we confronted her, she broke down and admitted it. She wouldn't say why, though, so Mother had no choice but to fire her. I guess I should have saved the bill but I thought the matter was resolved."

"Did you report this to Deborah?" I asked.

Willetta shook her head. "I didn't want to further embarrass the girl. We didn't know anything about her background, so maybe this was an habitual thing, like shoplifting or kleptomania. I even gave her a week's salary as severance pay, although I would have been well within my rights to demand that she make reparations. I still feel bad about it. If I could have helped her, I would have. She was very unhappy."

"But she decided to forsake her commitment to the Daughters of the Moon and abandon her children?"

Anthony stared at me over the remains of the gnawed drumstick. "Three days later she asked me to take her to the bus station in Starley City. She cried all the way and said she'd send for her children when she could afford it. What was I supposed to do -- tell her to walk?"

"Did you go into the bus station with her?"

"She told me to drop her off out front. I was wearing my uniform, so I guess she didn't want to be seen with me. She said she had enough money for a ticket. I took her suitcase out of the trunk and set it on the sidewalk, then drove off."

"Well, she didn't exactly blend in, even with a scarf around her head," I said. "I'll have the sheriff send a deputy there tomorrow to see if anyone remembers which bus she took. We ought to be able to trace her all the way to Florida, if that's where she went."

"Why bother?" he asked, grabbing another piece of chicken. "She's probably found a job and is saving up to arrange for her children to join her. She was convinced that she could do it in a few weeks."

"I'd like to know if she has any idea who might have been stalking Ruth."

"Stalking Ruth?" said Willetta. "Don't you have her ex-husband in custody? Shouldn't you be starting with him?"

"He's the most likely," I admitted, "but he keeps swearing he never went out to Camp Pearly Gates. Ruth said that she was going to look for her son just as the storm hit, but I don't see how her ex-husband would have known this. It seems more likely that she had arranged to ... "

"Meet somebody?" suggested Willetta.

"Yes," I said, "and I can almost put a name to it. This has been lovely, but I need to go now."

She put down her glass. "Now, Arly, I realize you're used to having free run in Maggody, but we do things differently in Dunkicker."

"Why don't you drop by the lodge and share your grievances with Mrs. Jim Bob? She seems to think I need to consult her every time I issue a speeding ticket. Corporal Robarts, stop by the café and drive Sarah back to the Beamers' site with you. You're under orders to spend the night there. I'll ask Les to stay at the PD and read a bedtime story to the prisoner. I have a feeling they'll enjoy the illustrations."

I left before either of them could sputter.

Everything seemed peaceful at the lodge. Les had removed the visible vestiges of his profession and was flinging a Frisbee with Parwell, Big Mac, Billy Dick, and Larry Joe. The girls had flopped over to maximize tanning. Bonita had taken off her shoes and socks and was wading along the edge of the lake; I could see from her expression that she shared Darla Jean's theory about perfidious minnows.

On one end of the porch, Mrs. Jim Bob appeared to be dozing, although it may have been a ruse. Brother Verber sat on the opposite end, an open Bible in his lap and a notebook nearby in case he stumbled across inspiration.

I gestured at Larry Joe to join me. "Where's Jarvis?" I asked him.

"He went ballistic when Big Mac splashed him. I sent him to the cabin to put on dry clothes and cool off. Yeah, I know you said to keep 'em together, but Jarvis can take care of himself. Wish I could say the same about Big Mac. One of these days that boy's gonna smart off to a gorilla on a Harley and end up walking bow-legged the rest of his life."