Murder at the Courthouse (16 page)

Then when Michael turned on to the street that led to
Reece's house, things got odder when he spotted Anthony's old car parked in some deep shadows on the far side of Judge Campbell's house, where it couldn't be seen from inside any of the houses. What was the kid up to?

The car was empty, the motor cold. Michael looked down the street toward Aunt Lindy's house, but if Anthony was there, why park this far up the street? But where else would he be? Surely the boy couldn't be planning to break into any of these houses.

Michael started to walk around the street, but inside his cruiser, Two Bits started yowling. He'd have to take care of the cat, then find Anthony.

Reece came to the door, his lucky hat bristling with fishing hooks and lures still on his head. He was surprised to see Michael there struggling to hang on to Two Bits. “What's going on? I just wanted somebody to feed Two Bits, not bring him to me.”

“You haven't heard.” It was more a statement than a question.

Reece hadn't heard. He must have been fishing all day. He always said fishing was the best medicine he knew for when a fellow wasn't feeling so hot. He frowned at Michael. “Did Joe's sister pass on?”

“No.” Michael knew no way to say it gently, so he just spit it all out in a wad. “Somebody killed Joe this morning in his shop.”

Reece staggered back a step as if Michael had dealt him a body blow. All the breath went out of him as his face turned chalky white. “Joe? Dead?” He gasped, then clutched his chest as his legs sagged.

Michael kicked the door closed behind him, dropped the
cat, and grabbed Reece before he could fall. He lowered the old man into a chair beside the door. Two Bits landed on his feet and scooted out of sight under the same chair.

Before Michael could decide what to do next, Alex appeared beside him and shoved him out of the way.

“What did you do to him?” She shot Michael an accusing glare before she searched through her uncle's pocket until she found a small medicine bottle. She placed one of the pills under Reece's tongue. “Take it easy, Uncle Reece. Breathe in and out. That's it. You're going to be all right.”

Michael stepped back out of the way, more than a little overwhelmed as he was every time he saw Alex. She leaned over Reece, her tall, graceful body molded by her jeans. Dark hair curled around her shoulders. She wore little makeup, but she needed none to highlight her best features. All her features were best. She took his breath away.

Michael could remember the first time he realized Alex was not just pretty but shockingly beautiful. The next summer after the wreck, she arrived the second week in June as always, running across the yards to Michael's house to say hello. Michael had been outside throwing baseballs at the old tire he'd rigged up at strike level. He had looked forward to Alex coming for weeks. Had even practiced witty things to say to her, but the sight of her knocked all the words right out of him like somebody had punched him in the stomach. She laughed at him that day as he stared at her, his mouth hanging open.

Even now, that was how he felt every time he saw Alex for the first time after she'd been away awhile. She still knocked all sensible words right out of him for a moment before he had a chance to get used to the way she looked all over again. He had learned to keep his mouth shut.

Aunt Lindy loved her. Said a person shouldn't discriminate against a girl because of the way she looked, and that Alex had what was really important—the mind inside the body. Aunt Lindy never came out and actually said it, but Michael knew she thought Alex could mother town founders with one arm strapped behind her.

Reece was breathing easier, and color was creeping back into his cheeks. Alex turned on Michael, sparks of anger flashing in her smoky-blue eyes. “What in the world do you think you're doing? You know Uncle Reece has a weak heart.”

Michael held up his hands to fend off her words and didn't answer. She never listened anyway when she was in a rage.

Reece took up for him. “It's not his fault, honey. Somebody had to tell me about Joe.”

“What about him?” Alex demanded, her eyes going to Reece, then back to Michael.

“Come on in the sitting room, Michael. You can tell us what happened.” Reece's voice was sad as he slowly got to his feet, then looked around. “Where'd Two Bits go?”

Michael leaned down and pulled the cat out from under the chair. His claws raked against the floor as he tried to hold his spot in the shadows. “He's had a hard day.” Michael stroked the cat.

“Poor kitty.” Reece reached for Two Bits and the cat gentled down at the sound of his voice.

“I don't much like cats.” Alex frowned at the cat.

“Two Bits will grow on you.” Reece led the way into the front room and settled in his shabby old brown recliner. He stroked the cat, then looked up at Michael. “Who would want to murder Joe?”

Alex sucked in her breath at the word “murder,” and Michael was glad the word shocked her.

“Murder? Here in Hidden Springs?” she said.

“We aren't perfect, my dear,” Reece said. “In fact, this makes two murders right downtown this week.”

“Two?” Her penetrating eyes settled on Michael's face. “What are you doing about it?”

“I'd arrest somebody if I knew who to arrest.” Michael looked back at Reece. “We found Joe's body this afternoon after you called about the cat.”

“Who found him?” Reece saw the answer in Michael's face. “I'm sorry, Michael. That couldn't have been easy.”

“No.” Michael pressed his lips together a moment. “Joe was a good, nice guy. I can't imagine Main Street without him.”

“You surely have a suspect,” Alex said. “Hidden Springs is too small for anyone to murder someone and get away with it.”

“Whoever it was won't get away with it.” Determination hardened Michael's voice.

“But you don't have a suspect,” Alex said.

“Quit browbeating the boy, Alex, and let him tell us what he knows.”

So Michael went through the bare details. Reece shuddered when Michael told them how Joe died, and Alex went a shade pale.

“That's about it. I spent the rest of the day finding out nobody knows anything except Two Bits, and he's not talking,” Michael finished up. He looked at Reece. “Joe didn't tell you anything after the first murder, did he? Even a hint of what he might have suspected could be helpful.”

“We talked about the man getting shot the same as everybody.” Reece stared down at the cat for a long moment. “But come to think of it, I did most of the talking. I remember thinking at the time that Joe had something on his mind, but I thought it was because his sister was so poorly.” He paused a minute. “You think he knew something then?”

“Why else would he be dead?” Michael said.

“That is the question.” Reece sort of withdrew from them into himself. Even Two Bits noticed and raised his head to stare at him.

Michael waited a minute before he pushed him to talk. “If you know something, Reece, it's not the time to keep secrets.”

Reece slowly stroked the cat again. “What few secrets I know couldn't have anything to do with this.”

“That may be what Joe thought,” Michael said. “He must have been trying to protect someone.”

“I suppose that's possible, but if so, I don't know who or why. Perhaps Joe's death isn't even connected with this other man's death.”

“That's pretty unlikely,” Michael said.

Reece sighed. “Yes, I suppose so. But whoever it was surely didn't intend to kill Joe this morning or they would have brought a more trustworthy weapon along. Not many murders are committed with scissors.”

“Murder weapons come in all shapes and sizes,” Alex put in.

“And so do murderers, Reece,” Michael warned him. “If you think of anything, anything at all, you let me know.”

Michael didn't remember about Anthony until he got up to leave. A quick glance out the window showed the boy's car was gone. Michael had intended to listen for the car starting up, but Reece's health scare put that out of his mind. Then seeing Alex sent him in a tailspin the way it always did. He hadn't heard a thing but her voice.

Alex walked him to the door, mildly apologetic for her brusque manner earlier. “I was worried about Uncle Reece,” she said simply.

“You were right. I shouldn't have sprung the news on him that way.”

“The news would have been a shock no matter how you told him. But I think he's all right now.” She took a peek back toward the other room, where they could see Reece in his recliner, still stroking Two Bits.

“I hope so. It will help that you're here.”

With their apologies out of the way, they moved to friendlier ground. At the door, she smiled. “I hear you're taking me out on the town tomorrow night. Does that mean Cindy's finest?”

“I think Reece had in mind something over in Eagleton.”

“Poor Uncle Reece. He's under the mistaken assumption Eagleton is a city.”

“The closest thing to one around here, and he doesn't want you to be bored while you're here.”

“I've never been bored in Hidden Springs.” When Michael raised his eyebrows at her, she shrugged a little. “I always manage to escape before that happens. How about you, Michael? Aren't you bored yet?”

“Not yet.”

She shook her head at him. “I don't understand you.”

“Me? I'm the easy one to understand. You're the exotic bird who flits in here now and again and makes all the locals go wide-eyed with wonder.”

Alex laughed delightedly, the sound rippling through his memory all the way back through the blackness to his early childhood. It was a good laugh, one he'd once been willing to do almost anything to hear, from standing on his head as a six-year-old to reading law books in college just so he'd be able to talk to her about famous cases.

“I guess you know Uncle Reece is doing his best to cage me up down here for a while. He says the doctor told him to cut back his hours because of his heart, but he doesn't want to let his clients down.” Every trace of smile was gone from her face now. “Do you think his health is really that bad or that he's just playing on my sympathies?”

“That was no act tonight,” Michael said.

“No, but you know Uncle Reece. He never gives up on an idea, and he's been thinking Sheridan and Sheridan ever since I passed the bar.” She peered at Michael. “That and other impossible plans he has for me.”

Michael almost blushed. “It's just a dinner, Alex. He didn't ask me to propose or anything.”

“Of course not.” Her lips twisted up in a wicked grin. “I'm guessing that is Malinda's part in the plot. We both know you can never refuse her anything.”

“I promise I won't propose.”

“And that's supposed to make me happy?” Alex's grin widened.

“I don't know, Alex.” He laughed. “But maybe it will me.”

She laughed with him and shoved him out the door. “See how nice I am. I'm letting you have the last word, but you'd best be ready tomorrow night. It won't happen again.”

He smiled all the way to his car, but then the weight of the day's happenings fell back on him. He still had work to do. And finding out what Anthony Blake was up to was priority one.

When he checked with Aunt Lindy, she said she hadn't seen Anthony. He never came between sessions, and he wasn't due back at her house until Saturday afternoon. Why did Michael ask? When he told her about Anthony's car parked down the street, she had no answers.

Then Michael stopped at the judge's house, but his wife said the judge had already retired for the evening. Did Michael want her to wake him?

“No, no,” Michael said quickly. He'd never seen June Campbell when she didn't look ready to smile for a camera. Even at this hour the petite lady's silver hair was in perfect order and her rose-colored lipstick looked freshly applied.

The folks in Hidden Springs all agreed June was the perfect wife for the judge. She smiled warmly and indiscriminately at everyone, and she always remembered to ask people about
their grandchildren, usually by name. Even better, she never refused a worthy request for her time, so she was a favorite of the charity organizations. She would be a definite plus in the judge's run for state representative not only as a beautiful, fragrant flower on his arm but because of the important connections she had forged through those extensive volunteer activities both here and in Eagleton.

“Did you need to talk to Wilson about poor Joe?” A look of distress crossed her face. “I can hardly believe such a terrible thing has happened in our town.”

“It is hard to believe, but no, I was just worried about the judge. He didn't seem his usual self this afternoon.”

“Joe's death was such a shock to him, you understand.” June looked concerned that he might not understand. To Michael she always looked a little worried in spite of her meticulously maintained exterior, as if she was afraid she might hiccup or belch out in public and embarrass herself or, even worse, the judge. “As it was to me as well. It makes one rather uneasy, don't you think? Makes one wonder about their own safety.”

“I don't think you have anything to fear, Miss June.”

“I don't know.” A frown etched lines on her forehead. “I had considered waking Wilson earlier, even though I really didn't want to worry him when he's already so upset. It was quite a relief, let me tell you, seeing your car across the street and knowing you'd have things under control.”

“What do you mean?” Michael asked. Sometimes Miss June could talk in circles.

“I was quite certain I saw somebody out there in the shadows earlier this evening.” Miss June fluttered her hands nervously in the direction of the bushes alongside her driveway. “It was a bit unnerving, considering the events of the week.”

“What was he doing?”

“I'm not really sure.” She produced a neatly folded tissue out of some hidden pocket and touched her lips. “Lurking is the word that comes to mind, although I'm not exactly clear about what one does when one lurks. However, it did make me decidedly uneasy, and I was in a definite quandary as to what to do until you stopped across the way at Reece's. His sweet niece has come to visit him, hasn't she? The two of you were always such good friends as children, weren't you?”

Michael suppressed a smile at the word “sweet” applied to Alex. “Yes, ma'am, but about this person you saw? Did you recognize him?”

“How could I? He seemed to be clinging to the shadows, you know, and I hardly dared step outside for a better viewpoint, now did I?”

“No, of course not.”

“It's just so tragic. All of it. First that poor man showing up on the courthouse steps on Tuesday morning. What was his name?”

“Jay Rayburn.”

“Yes, yes, that was it. Wilson says I couldn't have known him. That he wasn't from around here. Still, I've come across that name somewhere. I have always made an effort to keep names in my memory. People do appreciate one remembering their name.”

“You think you may have known Jay Rayburn?” Michael couldn't completely hide his surprise.

“It's not very likely, is it? I daresay Wilson is right and it's just a similar name I'm recalling. I knew a Jason Rathborne once. At any rate, I do sympathize with his family. Such a sad way to die, taken before your time like that.” She
rattled on, hardly pausing for a breath. “And then poor Joe. I suppose it's enough to make one start to jump at shadows, and Wilson has always said that I sometimes see dangers where there are none. I tell him I have to do the worrying for both of us, because he won't. Worry, I mean. He says things generally take care of themselves as long as a person is trying to do the right thing, and Wilson always does the right thing.”

Michael tried to sift through her words to see if she'd said anything he needed to respond to, but while he was sifting, she went off on a new tack.

“I do appreciate you coming by, Michael, and I know you'll be able to handle whatever happens. It's so comforting to have a wonderful young man such as yourself protecting us, and I'm sure you quite scared whoever was out there away.”

“Yes, ma'am. I hope so, but if you notice anything that gives you the least concern, you call me or Sally Jo.” Michael touched her arm. “Don't hesitate a minute, do you hear?”

“That is reassuring, Michael. To know you'll come by to check out any problems. But no doubt I was simply letting my imagination get carried away earlier.”

“That could be, but it never hurts to check things out.” Michael looked at her a minute before he added, “And if you do remember where you might have heard Jay Rayburn's name, you will let me know, won't you?”

“Of course,” she promised. “Wilson has just been so disturbed about it all. It's simply not the kind of thing one expects to occur here in our little town.”

He agreed with her again, then thanked her as he began backing away with her words flowing after him down the porch steps. It had been awhile since he'd talked to Miss
June one on one. When the judge was around, she let him do most of the talking, only smiling and nodding her support.

Michael couldn't keep from smiling as he remembered what Aunt Lindy sometimes said about June. “Words spill out of that woman like marbles dropped on a hard floor. You just don't know which direction they're going to roll or if they'll ever, please for mercy's sake, stop.”

Michael made another round of the neighborhood but noted nothing in the least suspicious. Anthony was gone, and nobody else was out and about. Aunt Lindy would be in her rocking chair, grading papers. Reece and Alex would still be discussing Joe's death and the sad state of affairs in Hidden Springs. Miss June's front door was closed, and through a crack in the drapes he could see the flickering light of a television set. Michael rubbed his eyes and looked at his dash clock as he pulled out of the street. Ten thirty. He wanted nothing more than to go home, but he still needed to track down Anthony.

He drove by Anthony's house. The boy's car wasn't there, and Michael didn't have the energy to deal with the aunt. He'd talk to Vera tomorrow if he had to. Michael cruised around town, checking out all Anthony's usual hangouts, but he was nowhere to be found.

Finally Michael gave up and headed home. One thing for sure, Anthony couldn't hide forever. He'd find him, but he needed to do that before the killer decided the boy knew too much.

The next morning Michael made all the rounds again without luck and then waited at the school. Again he wasn't really surprised when Anthony didn't show up, but he was beginning to get worried. He almost wished they had arrested
Anthony for stealing Bonnie Wireman's laptop and put him in jail. At least then Michael might be able to keep him safe.

Buck was waiting for him at the office to compare notes, but neither one of them had much. A state police forensics expert was coming in later to go over Joe's shop.

Betty Jean asked about Two Bits and then reported that Chief Sibley had called. He was going over to the hospital to be with Caroline. Seemed Paul was delirious.

“Nothing new about that,” Buck muttered.

“Where's the sheriff?” Michael asked.

Betty Jean looked at the clock on the wall and then rolled her eyes at Michael. “Just because there's been a couple of homicides, you don't expect Uncle Al to change his schedule, do you? He's eating Cindy's biscuits up at the Grill.”

“How about the judge?”

“Him too or I miss my guess,” Betty Jean said.

“And the girl don't miss her guesses very often,” Buck said.

Betty Jean gave him a sour look over her computer screen and went on talking to Michael. “Your kid was back in the hall this morning.”

“Anthony?” Finally Michael was surprised.

“The very one. I told him he could come on in the office and wait if he was looking for you. That made him flare up big-time. Said he wasn't looking for nobody, and why couldn't people just leave him alone?” Betty Jean's eyes settled on Michael. “He said he just came in to use the public john and when was that against the law.” Betty Jean looked back down at her computer screen. “That boy has got a problem, but I don't think it has anything to do with needing to find the men's room.”

“Did he take off?”

“Like a shot.”

“You spot him again, Betty Jean, you radio me. I need to talk to him.”

“You think he knows something?” Buck looked over at Michael.

“Maybe. Maybe not, but I don't want him to end up like Joe. Whoever we're dealing with isn't taking any chances.”

“Could it be the kid? He seems to always be around,” Buck said.

“What motive could he have?” Michael frowned.

“What motive does anybody in Hidden Springs have?” Buck said. “Admit it, Mike. We don't know enough to even come up with an interesting guess as to what's going on.”

Michael couldn't argue with that.

“The most we can do is keep worrying the ends of these strings that don't seem to go anywhere until something starts unraveling.” Buck pushed up out of his chair. “About the only good thing that's happened around here since Monday is Little Osgood's appendix busting like that. Now that was divine intervention if I ever saw it, and I guess you could say he's the only one we can be absolutely sure about striking off the suspect list. Everybody else in Hidden Springs is fair game till we know better.”

“I liked suspecting the mob better,” Michael said.

“I think you can forget that.” Buck gave a sympathetic shake of his head. “I don't think Joe ever had much cause to get on the wrong side of the mob, but have you heard the new idea going around this morning?”