Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 13 (30 page)

"But you didn't take Rachael's advice and contact your long-distance company?"

"I didn't care what her cousin's name was."

"Well, I do," I said as I nudged him into motion, then allowed him a few steps. "First thing tomorrow, I'll get a locksmith so we can examine the interior of Ester's car. She may have left an address book or some letters. It'll help us track her down in Florida, if that's where she went."

He wheeled around. "Why are you so obsessed with Ester? The only crime she committed was making long-distance calls from our house, and that's hardly worth bothering with. You want to look in the cabin over there?"

"You do it," I said. "I'll wait here." There was no convenient picnic bench this time, so I settled for an unpleasantly damp log. Ester had not been a happy camper, although she had come of her own free will. Could she really have fathomed what she was getting into when Deborah invited her to join the cult? The Daughters of the Moon had provided her with an austere existence and the opportunity to clean bathrooms and fry chicken in someone else's house. She'd implied that she knew how to come into serious money, and it wouldn't be from pawning Willetta Robarts's odd bits of jewelry. Had her cousin found her a job at Disney World? Did Snow White have a dwarf named Baldy?

"All clear," Corporal Robarts said as he pushed his way past a scrub oak. "On to the softball field?"

"Good idea." I brushed off my butt and followed him. "I think I'll check on those numbers Ester called, just in case we don't find anything in her car. You may have tossed the bill, but the long-distance company will have records. Aren't you surprised that Norella made calls, too?"

"They go about their business, and I go about mine."

"But you came out of the men's room while she was using the pay telephone at the café. That must have startled her."

"I don't think she even saw me."

I slowed down, hoping to remain upwind from him. "She was talking to Jarvis. Did you hear her arrange to meet him?"

"I didn't pay any attention. You gonna stand there all night?"

"You knew she was meeting him yesterday afternoon. No one else, including her ex-husband, had any reason to think she'd be by the creek. Not Rachael, or Sarah, or Naomi, or Judith, or even Deborah -- unless I need to take a closer look at Merle. It'd be a stretch, but odder things have happened in dear old Dunkicker in the last thirty-six hours."

"What is this shit?"

"Later in the day, did you go home to have supper with your mother, or to shower and dispose of your bloody clothes?"

"The way you're carrying on, the next thing you'll be accusing me of is putting on lipstick and prancing in the woods. I didn't especially like Ruth, or Ester, for that matter. Then again, I don't like Crank Nickle and I'm not overly fond of Chief Panknine's wife. You want to use my cellphone to make sure I didn't sneak away this morning to suffocate them in their beds?"

"Ester's not in Florida, is she?"

"How the hell would I know?"

I was beginning to feel like a lame-brained heroine who'd gone up to the attic to investigate. "I think Norella figured out what had happened. She was probably suspicious when she saw Ester's car behind the body shop. Quite the ironic place to stash a body, don't you agree? New and used parts, all of that."

"You want to explain?"

I wanted to grab his gun, but I demurely put my hands into my pockets. "The trunk will be opened tomorrow, Anthony," I said, this time using his given name deliberately. "You're the one who's going to have to explain why you lied about taking her to the bus station, why she did something so threatening that you killed her."

"Go on." He would have sounded more menacing if his voice hadn't cracked.

"There is something about Florida that not everybody knows. Most people think of the theme parks, the beaches, even the hurricanes. I think of all that, but I also think of tabloids. Most of them are located in Lantana. Was Ester planning to sell her Beamer story to one of them? They'd eat it up. These women didn't come here for religious sanctuary; they came to get away from abusive ex-husbands. Norella must have heard about it when she was turned away from the battered women's shelter and went to the community outreach program, desperate for money to buy gas and feed her children. Most towns in the area have similar agencies. That's where Deborah recruited them, didn't she? She must have convinced a few good-hearted volunteers that this was the last refuge for women and their children, perhaps even arranged for transportation. The rules didn't sound so awful. Their shaved heads convinced the locals that they were members of a wacky cult, not fugitives. What they didn't realize was that they'd never put aside enough cash to leave. Not exactly slave labor, but close to it. First, mandatory community service, and then a lowpaying job and an obligation to contribute most of their earnings to the grocery demands."

"They can leave whenever they want," he said sullenly. "Deborah never told them otherwise."

"Leave and go where? They wouldn't have come in the first place if they'd felt they had options. They sincerely believe they're protecting their children and themselves by going underground. Most of them, anyway. Norella's motivation seems to have been pure spite."

Corporal Robarts's hands were trembling as he lit another cigarette. "So your story is that I killed Ester to stop her from selling her story to a tabloid, and then killed Norella because of -- what? Boredom?"

"Ester told Norella. When Norella figured out what had happened, she decided that there was nothing stopping her from doing the same thing. All she needed was enough money for a tank of gas and a cheap motel with a telephone, then stay low and wait for the tabloid boys to arrive. It would have made quite a cover story."

"So the Beamers are exposed and Norella makes out like a bandit. What if I said that Ester begged me to say I took her to the bus station?"

"Why would she do that?"

The cigarette bobbled as he worked on it. "She was afraid to get her car before it was dark. Rachael and Sarah might have seen her leaving and done something to stop her. They wouldn't have wanted their faces in a tabloid if they were hiding from ex-husbands."

"Not bad, Anthony," I said, "but we'll be comparing fingerprints in the morning. We may find some on both the outside and the inside of the trunk."

He flicked the cigarette into the brush. "You may not be doing anything in the morning, Chief Hanks. The whole town may think Duluth came to kill his wife, but they might just change their minds if your body's found out here. What's more, he isn't the only crazy coot roaming the woods these days. We've got druggies, war veterans, and most of Crank Nickle's kinfolk, who took off to wait for a Second Coming. Last I heard, they was perched in trees up in Greasy Valley, pestering the hippies, but you never know."

Lame-brained heroines always survived, I told myself. "You don't think the Beamers might have a problem with that? They saw us leave together."

"I'll just say you sent me to check the cabins on the other side of the lodge. More efficient, you'd said. No reason to stay together when the killer's already locked up. I wasn't real comfortable, but you were in charge of the investigation, as you kept telling everybody."

"At least let me have a cigarette," I countered, listening intently for the Mounties to come thundering up the creekbed.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

He handed me one and held out his lighter. As soon as the flame licked up, I jammed it in his face and took off on the sorry excuse for a road. He had the flashlight, but I had the adrenaline advantage. I leaped over logs like a damn gazelle, not always with success. Down would lead to the road that ran between the gate and the lodge. He couldn't risk shooting me: Bullets, like fingerprints, were too easily traced.

He seemed to have something in mind, though, and I was not eager to find out what it might be. I could hear him behind me, thudding along, heaving, and taking the occasional sprawl. His mother would be appalled at his language, if I lived to tattle on him. It seemed like a good idea to me.

I finally had to duck under a cedar and catch my breath. He stopped, too, although I had no sense of how far behind me he was. Not far, alas, and he'd finally remembered that he had the flashlight in his hand.

The beam began sweeping across the ruts and coming closer. If I stayed where I was, he would find me, and if I scrambled into the woods, he would hear me. I found a rock and threw it across the road, waited until he took a few steps in that direction, and took off running again.

"Hey!" he shouted.

It did not seem like the time to stop and inquire if I could do anything for him. The ground was getting steeper, which I dearly hoped meant I was getting closer to the road. I caught my foot on a root, but somehow managed to keep my balance as I slithered down the bank into a puddle of water.

As I climbed out of it, I was startled to see a car coming toward me, its headlights off. I stood in the middle of the road and waved my arms as if I were directing a jet to its gate. It stopped with inches to spare.

"Need a lift?" Jacko asked softly.

"What I need is a little help. He has a gun, and by now he may be crazy enough to use it. When I yell, turn on your headlights and I'll take it from there."

"Shouldn't I get out and punch him in the nose or something gallant like that? Of course I don't know who he is, but I'm sure he's a villain."

"Stay in the car and" -- I glanced at his backseat -- "protect your children."

I stepped back into the middle of the road as I heard Corporal Robarts coming. As he reached the bank, I yelled, "Here I am, asshole!"

As he jumped over the ditch and landed on the road, the headlights caught him in the face. I took the opportunity to grab the gun out of his hand and send him sprawling backward. He went down with a splash.

"Very impressive," Jacko commented. "I didn't realize you were quite so aggressive. Is this typical of your behavior?"

"I need another favor. Will you go back to the lodge and tell the deputy that I need his assistance?"

He paused. "That may complicate things for me."

"Such as being charged with kidnapping?"

He shushed the children and got out of the car. "I have full custody. My ex-wife was given only supervised visitation, but she took the children while they were playing in the yard. It's taken me two months to find them."

"Then you didn't kidnap them," I said as I went over to Robarts and planted my foot on his back. He said something I hoped the children could not hear.

"I'm concerned that they might be taken into protective custody while this is sorted out. She'll start up again with how I was neglecting and abusing them. Her lawyers and mine will be back to having lunch at the country club and haggling on the back nine."

"I can't stand here all night, Jacko."

"You have his gun."

"He's not going to let that bother him, and I'm reluctant to shoot him. There's already been enough suffering at Camp Pearly Gates."

"I'll go find this deputy for you. Would you mind if I called you in a few weeks?"

"Try the Maggody PD. I don't keep tidy office hours, but I'm usually around. I appreciate this."

"And you ought to," he said as he got into the car and began to back down the road toward the lodge.

17

"You went and did what?" Raz said, gaping at Dahlia. She might have been kin, but she sure as hell wasn't acting like it.

"I took the mule," she repeated.

"Now why should I believe that?"

"I don't care if you do."

"Does Perkins know?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Dahlia sat down on the edge of the porch. "You and your sow might ought to decide what you want to do. I can wait if you want to crawl on your belly to the pasture and take a look. All I'm tellin' you is I took the mule."

"Where? It ain't all that easy to up and take a mule, you know. It requires a certain talent."

She jiggled the double-stroller with her foot and gave the babies a sober look. They stared back, just like they knew they wouldn't be getting braces if she didn't hold her ground. "Your grandpappy weren't the only mule charmer in Stump County."

Raz had to sit back and think this over. For one thing, the mule might be in Perkins's shed. Or dead, if it got to that. He'd been watching the last day or two, and the mule hadn't been anywhere to be seen in the pasture.

"Are you claiming to be a mule charmer?" he asked.

"I didn't say that," Dahlia replied. "All I said was I took the mule."

"And did what with it?"

"I don't recollect, right offhand. Why should you care? Go find another mule."

Raz spat on the yellowed patch of grass. "Mules are mules, but, well ... Marjorie's taken a fancy, and ... "

"Then here's what you're gonna do," she said. "There's a man staying at the Airport Arms Motel, in number three. He's greasy, worse than rancid bacon. You explain real nicely that Marjorie is going to chew off his foot unless he gives you the check I wrote. Once you hand it over to me, I'll tell you what I did with Perkins's mule."