Avalanche: A Sheriff Bo Tully Mystery (Sheriff Bo Tully Mysteries) (17 page)

BOOK: Avalanche: A Sheriff Bo Tully Mystery (Sheriff Bo Tully Mysteries)
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42

SHORTLY BEFORE NOON THE NEXT DAY,
a yellow plow truck came up the road, clearing off the snow. It was followed by a line of cars. The cars pulled into the parking lot, which was already filled with people packing their vehicles for the trip home. Tully tossed his plastic bag of clothes into the backseat of the Explorer and then walked around and put his duffel in the rear compartment.

He saw Marcus Tripp wave at the driver of a large Mercedes sedan. The driver didn’t look pleased. Marcus got in and he and the driver headed back down the road. Tully was glad he wasn’t riding in that car.

Then Tom Duffy pulled into the parking lot. He was driving a Lexus SUV. Before arriving at the parking lot, Tully didn’t even know there was such a thing as a Lexus SUV. He waved and Tom waved back. Tom parked, got out, and shook Tully’s hand. “I hope Janice didn’t give you too much trouble,” he said.

“No trouble at all,” Tully said. “As a matter of fact, I used her and her dog team to help me solve a couple of murders. By the way, I was sorry to hear from Janice that your aunt Margaret died.”

Tom looked sheepish. “Yeah, it came on quite sudden. A heart thing.”

“A heart thing. Those can be bad. Particularly when you’ve been dead for, what’s it been, twenty years now?”

“You would remember Aunt Margaret!”

“Well, it was such a nice funeral. But you can relax. I never told Janice anything about Aunt Margaret.”

“Thank goodness! You always were a good friend, Bo.”

Gooder than you’ll ever know, Tully thought, smiling.

Janice ran up and kissed her husband. “I hope you’re staying for the races.”

“Yep, I am. Taking the whole week off. I trust Bo here didn’t try to renew old times with you.”

“No, unfortunately, he was a perfect gentleman the whole time.” She made a quick sour face at Bo behind Tom’s back.

“Listen, Bo, maybe you can have dinner with Janice and me tonight.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’ve got to drive back to Blight.”

Tom nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been reading all about the murders in the papers.”

“In the papers?”

“Yeah, your man Herb Eliot keeps the reading public up-to-date on them. You’re lucky to have a person like that in the department.”

“Right,” Tully said. “Good old Herb.”

At that moment Lindsay came up. She let her crutches fall to the ground, kissed Tully on the mouth, and then clung to him, her head resting on his chest. A lean, scholarly-looking man in glasses stepped forward, took his hand, and shook it. “Lindsay is very demonstrative,” he said apologetically. “She told me how you saved her life at the risk of your own. I can’t thank you enough.”

Tully said, “It was nothing I wouldn’t do for any beautiful girl.”

“You’ll call me, won’t you, Bo?” Lindsay said into his chest.

“Of course, I’ll call you. I have to stay in touch with the best agent I ever had. And I’m almost certain you’ve helped me solve these murders.”

“Really! That is just so cool.” She gave him such a powerful hug her dad had to extract her.

“Come on, honey, I’ve got to get you back to school.” Bo picked up the crutches to take back to the lodge. Lindsay’s father helped her hop over to another Mercedes.

How come everybody but me is rich? Tully thought.

Blanche came up behind him. “I bet that hot little fox is your agent,” she said.

Tully smiled. Blanche was the second woman to refer to Lindsay as a hot little fox. He handed her the crutches. “You could be right about that,” he said. “At least the agent part.”

“I’ve been thinking about our conversation earlier,” Blanche said. “About my visitor. Sooner or later it will come out anyway.”

“You thinking of marrying this individual?”

“That’s kind of old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

Tully pondered this for a moment. “You going to run off with your lover?”

“What do you think, Bo?”

“I think your secret, late-night visitor, whoever it is, may be my prime suspect.”

“In that case, it’s good you don’t know, and I’m certainly never going to tell you.”

“At least think about it,” he said. “I should be back tomorrow. If not tomorrow, Tuesday for sure.”

She turned and walked up the steps of the lodge. Pap and Dave were coming down; both of them carried bags.

“Where do you two think you’re going?”

Dave said, “I’ve got to get back to my place and start work on my casino. Besides, I’ve done all I can to solve the murder.”

Tully tugged on the corner of his mustache. “So your theory is that a woman put on Mike’s rubber boots, made the tracks, then put the boots on Mike. Her accomplice drove a boat up through those horrendous rapids and hauled her back to wherever they docked the boat. Afterward, the killer hauled Mike to the suspension bridge and dropped him in the river.”

“That’s about it,” Dave said.

“I would say that’s a bunch of nonsense, except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the only scenario I can come up with. On the other hand, I think a person would have to be a crazy fool to risk running first upstream and then back downstream through those rapids.”

“Need I mention that you and Lurch did it?”

“No, you needn’t mention that. Lurch’s screams are still ringing in my ears.”

“So, if you don’t need me anymore, Bo, I’m headed to Famine. I enjoyed our little vacation.”

“I guess Pap will do for what I have in mind. Hope to see you back for our next murder, Dave.”

“You bet!”

“No!” cried Pap. “I’ve got to get back to my housekeeper. She’s worried sick about me.”

“Right. She’s probably still enjoying her few days of peace. No, you’re staying here, Pap. I brung ya and you’re dancin’ with me.”

Dave laughed and walked off toward his SUV.

“You’ll like it, Pap,” Tully said. “You may even get a chance to kill somebody.”

“That’s better.”

“I’ll fill you in when I get back.” Tully said.

“And when will that be?”

“Probably Tuesday. We should have this whole business wrapped up by Tuesday night.”

Pap went back into the lodge muttering to himself. Then the three women from the corner table came out carrying suitcases. They piled the suitcases in the luggage compartment of a Jeep Grand Cherokee and started to get in. He walked over to them. The blonde who had given him the quick smile at the dinner table had just opened the driver’s door.

“You’re not leaving the boys behind, are you?” he asked.


Boys
is right,” she said. “Yeah, they’re staying on. Got some unfinished business, I guess.”

“How long have you known them?”

The blonde sighed. “A long, long time. About a week.”

“I take it you’re not too fond of them.”

“When you flattened Duke, that was the high point of our week.”

“You have any idea why they came up here?”

“Not much. Business of some kind. I don’t think it’s working out for them.”

“I have to take your names,” he told her. “Your real names and your real addresses. Just in case I have to get in touch.”

“Oh great,” she said. She gave him their names and addresses. The addresses were all at the same place near Reno, Nevada. “You want the boys’ names? All we have are first names, and they’re probably made up anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get their real names. Is it too forward of me to assume you three are all working girls?”

“You got that right. You ever come down our way, Bo, stop in and see us.”

“I’ll certainly keep that invitation in mind.”

43

WHEN TULLY REACHED THE PLACE
where he had rescued Lindsay from the river, he pulled over to the edge of the road and got out. The only thing left of the cabin was its foundation. The BMW was still there, covered with mud. The access road behind it had been washed out, so he expected the car would remain there for some time, sort of a monument to the flood. He was amazed that the climb up from the cabin hadn’t been nearly as long or as steep as he recalled: something on the order of a mile or so. It was scarcely a hundred feet. Looking at the sharp rocks made his knees hurt. Then he started thinking of Lindsay. He thought of her sitting there nude in the beam of his flashlight. It made him feel like a dirty old man, but he couldn’t help it. He guessed he was Pap’s son after all. He stopped again to pick up his light bar and then drove on into Blight City.

Even though it was Sunday, both Herb and Daisy were at the office, along with the usual weekend staff.

“Bo!” Daisy said. For a second he thought she was going to jump up and kiss him. “Herb!” she yelled. “Bo’s back!”

Herb came rushing out of his office. “Man, am I glad to see you. This place has been falling apart.”

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” Tully said. “Where’s Lurch?”

“Home,” Daisy said. “Probably sleeping. He’s been working night and day.”

“Call him. Wake him up. Tell him to get his butt down here. I need him right now.”

“Gosh, already it’s starting to feel like old times,” Daisy said. She dialed Lurch’s number. “Byron, it’s me, Daisy. The boss is back. He says for you to get your butt down here right now!”

She listened, then said, “Yeah, well you can tell him that yourself when you get down here.” She hung up.

“Daisy,” Bo said, “did you get the Playpen shoveled out?”

“Yes, I had the two Scraggs do it. They seemed happy to get out of their cells for a while.”

“Speaking of Scraggs, I’d better check on our prisoners. Make sure we haven’t lost any of them while I’ve been gone.”

Daisy and Herb gave each other a look.

Tully walked down the stairs to the jail.

“Hey!” Lem Scragg yelled. “We got ourselves a visitor, boys!” The other prisoners came to the bars to look. They shouted out a chorus of insults. A few of them said, “Howdy, Bo,” or “How’s it going, Bo?” Those were the sycophants and sociopaths. Normal criminals typically expressed their rage at being in jail, much of their ire aimed at the individual who had put them there.

“Hope all you boys have been enjoying yourselves in my absence. You better have your fun now, because I’ll be back in a couple days. I understand you haven’t been out in the Playpen because the jailer thinks it’s too cold. There’s no such thing as too cold or too hot for criminals. When I get back you go out if it’s eighty below.”

This provoked much howling and groaning. Tully laughed.

Stubb Speizer yelled, “Daisy had me kicked out of my own cell. Now I’m sharing a cell with Lister Scragg! It ain’t safe! It ain’t sanitary!”

“Who did you kill this time, Stubb?” Tully asked.

“I didn’t kill nobody. I only cut him a little.”

Lister Scragg spoke up. “He stabbed Melvin Tribe three times.”

“I caught him kissing my wife!” Stubb said.

“You stabbed a man three times for kissing Sadie?” Tully said. “That’s a bit extreme.”

“I know, it was stupid, but I was drunk at the time and couldn’t think of nothing else to do.”

Tully looked up and down the block of cells. “This jail is plumb full,” he said. “I’ve got to get you fellows to trial and off to prison.”

“That’s harsh, Bo!” Lem Scragg yelled from somewhere.

“It’s the Blight way,” Tully said.

He stopped in front of a cell. It appeared empty. He looked down. A small brown-and-white dog was peering up at him between the bars.

“Clarence!”

The dog barked.

“Yeah, Clarence!” someone shouted from one of the cells. “Do something about that dog, Bo! He whines and barks all night! We can’t get any sleep!”

“Whether you get any sleep isn’t high on my list of concerns,” Tully said. He stomped out the jail door, up the stairs, and burst into the briefing room. Daisy and Herb looked at him sheepishly. He put his hands on his hips and glared at them.

“I couldn’t do it,” Daisy said. “Neither could Herb.”

“I thought I could, but I couldn’t,” Herb said. “He’s such a cute little fellow.”

“He bites people, Herb! He bites little old ladies on the ankles. He hides under their cars and bites them. You’re harboring a vicious criminal in that cell. The other ones are bad, but at least they don’t bite people, as far as I know.”

“You’ll just have to do it yourself, Bo!” Daisy said defiantly.

“I have two murders to solve,” Tully said. “I don’t have time to deal with a dog!”

He walked into his office and slammed the door. A nice fat fly was crawling up the window. He picked up his swatter, whacked it, turned the swatter over, and caught the fly in midfall. Then he dumped the fly into his wastebasket. There had been a time when he would have fed the fly to Wallace, but Deputy Ernie Thorpe had killed the spider, thinking it a threat to Tully’s life. Tully missed Wallace a lot more than he let on. One thing about Wallace, no one would accuse him of being cute.

Tully picked up his phone, punched a number, and said, “Herb, get in here.”

Herb burst through the door before Tully had even hung up. “Yes, boss?”

“Those calls from the Lodge into Blight, did you do any more work on that?”

“No, boss, I haven’t had time.”

“Get me the list.”

Herb returned a minute later with a handful of papers.

“Here’s the thing, Herb,” Tully said. “I think someone at the lodge had something to do with the murder of Horace Baker.”

“I figured that too, especially after I learned about the key-man insurance. You think it was Blanche Wilson?”

“I don’t know. She obviously didn’t do it herself. There are three hard cases staying at the lodge, but the avalanche cut everybody off from town. If Blanche was involved, she had to have someone on the outside do it. But after the avalanche it was impossible even to make a phone call from the lodge. Let me see what you got.”

Herb handed him the list of phone calls. Tully ran his finger down the page, turned to the next one, checked it, checked the third page. “Not much.”

“I didn’t think so either.”

“You think this might be something?” Tully said. “Somebody from the lodge called the Countryman’s Feed Store here in Blight City three times over a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah?” Herb said.

“Well, somebody here in Blight had to be involved.”

“Somebody at the feed store?”

“What else have we got?”

“Nothing.”

“So there you go. And by the way, Herb, I don’t want to be reading in the
Blight Bugle
about the murders.”

“Geez, boss, the reporters ask questions. What am I supposed to do?”

“How about not answering them?”

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