Murder by Artifact (Five Star Mystery Series) (32 page)

The cub growled at him.

“What is that?” Moving the light to Roscoe’s face, Tony glared at the man. He felt like Theo looked when she was interrogating the boys about some misdeed. For a moment it looked like Roscoe planned to feign ignorance.

“This is Baby.” Roscoe reached into the bag and began scratching the white spot on the cub’s chest. The little bear immediately made a humming sound and settled down.

Tony didn’t know if bears could purr, although it sounded like one to him. “Tell me about Baby.”

Roscoe’s eyes crossed with the effort he made to comply with Tony’s request. He looked surprised that he needed to explain. “Thought you could tell. Baby’s a bear.”

“No? Really?” Tony reached into his pocket for an antacid but came up empty-handed. “I never would have guessed.”

“Gee, Sheriff, I’d a thought anyone could recognize a bear.” Roscoe appeared awestruck by Tony’s lack of education.

“I was kidding. I know what it is.” Tony sighed heavily. He didn’t feel particularly interested in Roscoe’s opinion. “Where’d you get the bear?”

Roscoe stared at Tony’s badge but said nothing. At their feet the bear cub burped.

Suddenly weary beyond reason and tolerance, Tony leaned against a nearby tree and crossed his arms over his chest. After the day he’d had, he could probably fall asleep in that position. The nap in his car had probably lasted less than fifteen minutes.

Roscoe didn’t show any signs of answering his question.

Tony waved him away, knowing he could always find the man again. He suspected Roscoe knew as well as he did that Tennessee law prohibited keeping a wild animal for a pet. It didn’t matter if the critter was a frog, a raccoon or a bear. Roscoe wasn’t well educated. Still, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Tony sighed, saying nothing as Roscoe and Baby bounced their way past his home and climbed into Roscoe’s truck on the next street over.

Tonight Tony just didn’t care. If he thought of it, he’d report the violation in the morning. The game wardens would have a field day trying to get a straight answer out of Roscoe. That thought made him smile. Someone else could deal with Roscoe and his illegal Baby.

He couldn’t bring himself to enter the house. Without even the dog for company, the silence would keep him awake. If he got any sleep, it would have to be in his office, at his desk.

As he pulled away from his home and drove along the quiet park dotted with lights on decorative poles and the streets surrounding it, he thought he could feel someone watching him.

Being paranoid didn’t mean no one was out to get you.

Vicky’s car, the silver sedan, turned up shortly after daybreak. Evidently, while the entire sheriff’s department searched for Vicky and Tony dug through paperwork on his desk, someone had driven the car into the parking lot shared by the law enforcement center and the municipal offices and abandoned it.

Wade discovered it and ran a check on the license plates. To no one’s surprise, the car had been stolen in Asheville. The owner, a high school kid working at a fast-food restaurant, had been knocked out and his keys taken from his hand. He never saw his assailant.

So, if not the silver Ford, what was Vicky driving now?

An envelope taped to the steering wheel was addressed to “Tony. Personal.”

Treated as the most valuable piece of evidence ever collected in the history of law enforcement, the note inside was transferred into a protective cover. Then it was read by no fewer than twelve people. So much for personal. Tony thought the idea of personally strangling Vicky with his bare hands held real appeal.

Written in block letters and adorned with myriad hearts drawn in red marker, reading it sent chills down his spine.

Dearest
,

Soon we will celebrate our blessed union. Our eternal adoration will no longer be interfered with by that interfering bitch, your late wife
.

You will know such joy as never before. Until then, my love, remember our vows to each other
.

Fury surged through Tony, obliterating all pretense of a civilized man. He would strangle Vicky with his bare hands if he caught up with her first.

No one found a morsel of humor in the situation.

At one minute after eight that morning, Calvin called Tony. “I just got a call from a woman asking if I collected your wife’s body from the clinic. She said she wants to send funeral flowers.”

Tony jumped to his feet and began pacing, the phone pressed to his ear and the blessed lack of a cord giving him freedom of movement. Maybe their plan was working. “And? What did you say?”

Calvin sounded miffed but he repeated it anyway. “I said that it was my understanding the family is not yet prepared to deal with condolence calls and asked the caller to respect your wishes and privacy.”

“Excellent.” Tony wandered to the lunchroom and poured himself a cup of coffee. “She’ll probably keep calling. Just keep telling her the same thing.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Calvin.” Tony knew this plan wouldn’t work at all without the undertaker’s cooperation.

“I’m glad I could help.” Calvin’s voice echoed through the phone. “There are worse places I could be this morning, you know. Like at home.”

“Doreen’s still upset, is she?” Tony felt a smile lift his lips. It would take a brave or desperate man to go home to that angry woman. A hungry bear cub in a duffel bag would be a snap to deal with in comparison.

“Yes, yes she is.” Calvin gulped loudly into the phone. “I do believe she’s somewhat calmer than she was. Oops, call coming in.” He disconnected.

Lowering his receiver, Tony thought it sounded like Calvin had a pair of gym socks stuffed down his throat. He suspected “somewhat calmer” was an exaggeration.

Tony dropped by Theo’s shop to check on his wife and deputy. A couple of tourists, the same women he’d seen on the sidewalk the night before, stood peering through the glass. With their hands cupped over their eyes to cut the glare, they looked like bird watchers holding binoculars.

He cleared his throat and the women jumped. One of them emitted a shriek that drew the attention of a couple of men standing nearby drinking coffee from tall paper cups. The men just grinned widely and continued downing their coffee. Tony would bet the unsympathetic men were the women’s husbands.

While the women regained their composure, he considered what he would tell them.

Gretchen’s arrival eliminated the need.

Transforming their two-minute conversation from the night before into a performance piece, the former opera student employed her acting skills and imagination to extend her sympathy as she ushered him and the women inside. Keeping up a constant stream of chatter, she began flicking on the lights.

Slipping away unnoticed, Tony made his way upstairs, opening Theo’s office door without knocking. Sheila had her sidearm pointed at his heart when the door swung wide, making him think his surprise visit was ill advised. He raised his hands into the air and grinned at her until she holstered the gun. A glance around the room made his smile widen. Theo’s office and work area were cluttered with bright pieces of fabric. Scraps littered the floor and new blocks were pinned to Theo’s design wall. He didn’t know if Theo was working or if Sheila was being converted into a quilter.

Tony heaved a sigh of relief. Either scenario meant Theo was fine.

His wife half-reclined on the daybed. The kitten slept on her lap as Theo used a seam ripper to pick out stitches in a small quilt square. She looked only slightly the worse for wear, her face bruised and sunburned. She grinned at him and he could see that some of the puffiness had receded. In a few days, she would look like nothing had happened to her.

He doubted he would ever be the same. If he had hair, it would have turned silver in the night. His cell phone rang, effectively stopping his morbid train of thought.

“Sheriff?” Wade sounded like he was still sleeping. “Are you coming back in today?”

“Yes. I’ll stop by the Cashdollar Mortuary, first. It has to look like I’m planning a funeral.” Tony felt a chill as he said it. “Dollars to doughnuts Vicky’s watching the place.”

“If only we knew where she was watching from.”

“True. So true.” Tony waved to the women, pasted on his sad face and made his way down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. The heat hit him like a fist, and it was still early in the day.

It took only moments to drive the three blocks to the parking lot shared by Doreen’s Gift and Flower Shoppe and the Cashdollar Mortuary. Because Doreen stocked a large number of gift items for brides and new babies, as well as flowers and sympathy cards, people often called it the “beginning to the end.”

Tony released the breath he discovered he held and went through the outside mortuary door. The business office was on the right. He could see Calvin at his desk, typing something into a laptop computer. The hallway and door that separated the gift shop from the funeral home was to his left. Straight ahead was a set of double doors. They were closed.

He’d chat with Calvin for a respectable amount of time and return to his own office. Maybe Ruth Ann’s computer skills would have discovered the owner of the abandoned farm, Theo’s prison. Maybe she’d even have search warrants. He could dream.

Ruth Ann was talking on the telephone when he arrived. She scribbled a note and handed it to him as he approached her desk. As usual, her research skills were impeccable. Her familiarity with the law didn’t hurt, either. Her concern regarding Theo’s situation manifested itself in her setting aside her customary preoccupation with her fingernails.

The note simply said,
“Cabin and land belong to Nelson Parker. Archie’s working on getting warrants. He didn’t seem to think there’d be a problem.”

Tony hadn’t even gotten his mail open when Park County’s prosecutor, Archie Campbell, strolled through the open doorway. His wide smile told Tony what he needed to know.

Archie ran a hand through his red hair. Tony watched. Maybe the hair wasn’t quite as dark as it had been when he was younger, but it was still thick and glossy.

Tony’s envy was dispelled by the knowledge that Archie was on their side. Without a warrant, there was little they could legally search. “What’s the word?”

“Two warrants. One for the abandoned cabin, all buildings and the property it sits on. I’ve included a map of it. A separate warrant for his current residence and all possessions.” Archie handed him a fat document. “Everything on the Parker properties, inside the Parker buildings and vehicles.” He grinned. “You can dig up the old man’s corn and tobacco and sift through every speck of his dirt and anything else that appeals to you.”

Momentarily speechless, Tony fanned his face with the warrant, bringing a whiff of Archie’s expensive aftershave to his nose. Maybe his department could buy the man another bottle of the stuff as thanks. “What judge and why so generous?”

“Since Nelson’s niece was Theo’s abductor and she stayed up at his place, it wasn’t hard to get a warrant.” Archie shifted around until he was comfortable on the vinyl chair. “Judge Smith would make a good ‘hanging’ judge. I barely mentioned the victim’s relationship to you before the cap came off his pen.”

Tony studied Archie’s face. The man looked like he might explode if he didn’t get to finish his story. “There’s more?”

Lots of shiny white teeth greeted his question. “He offered to sign an extra one, blank, you know just in case.”

“I like that idea. A lot. I’ll pass.” Tony thought Archie’s smile looked forced. The shadow in the prosecutor’s eyes exposed the depth of his anger about Theo’s abduction.

“You want to come with us?” Tony pressed the button connecting him to dispatch. Archie didn’t immediately respond. Tony said, “Rex, call out the troops. We’re going to search the Parker lands.”

Archie straightened his tie. “I know y’all will have fun digging in the weeds and climbing through and under that rat trap of a house. Instead, I’ll mosey on back to my office. It’s got better air-conditioning than yours.”

The search for Vicky began at the cabin where she abandoned Theo. In broad daylight, it looked even more remote. The back of the cabin’s roof had a hole in it the size of a washtub and the floor beneath it had rotted away to the dirt below.

The smokehouse was intact but showed no signs of recent use. Judging by the size of the bush growing in the privy, no one could hide in there.

Leaving a couple of deputies combing the woods around the cabin, Tony and the rest headed for Nelson Parker’s current home. He figured they could walk between the two properties faster than they could drive. Walking was a straight line to the south. Driving took them north and then west before circling to the far side of the mountain.

He glanced into his rearview mirror. Thank goodness for interagency cooperation. A line of law enforcement vehicles followed him. There weren’t that many entries in the Fourth of July parade.

In the chaos and aftermath of Theo’s abduction, Tony had lost sight of his one-time goal in getting onto the property. What would they find there? Might there really be a freezer containing the remains of Vicky’s high school madness with Harrison Duff? It felt like thirty years since his drive to Cincinnati. In fact, it had been less than a week.

“Nelson Parker.” Tony spoke into the Blazer’s microphone. “Come on out. We have warrants to search your place.” He waved a sheaf of papers, not the actual warrants, above his head, half expecting a bullet to rip through them. Nothing.

The sound of his own voice echoed from the surrounding hills. Nothing moved. Nothing. Not even Nelson’s normal greeting of a shotgun barrel presented through the open window.