Barbara Graham - Quilted 05 - Murder by Sunlight (2 page)

“I hope there aren’t others like this one in the lake,” said Wade. “It’s simply hideous. I can see a possible headline now:
Mutant Fish Eats Skunk.
”

Wade’s muttered comment echoed Tony’s feelings about the trophy.

“Keep an eye on the fire.” Tony smiled at Beth as he climbed in the vehicle. “It’s been a little dry lately.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t turn my back on it. This is not my first trash burn.” Beth pointed to a garden hose near her feet. Water ran from it, soaking a nearby shrub. “Thank you for taking the ugly thing away.”

The mayor and undertaker, Calvin Cashdollar, tiptoed into Tony’s office. He was dressed for a funeral. Tony could tell, because the man wore the same suit for every such occasion and it was beginning to look a little worn. Calvin’s broad smile indicated his lack of personal involvement with the deceased.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” said Calvin.

Tony tried to come up with a reason the mayor couldn’t, and failed. “Have a seat.”

Calvin settled into the chair across from the desk, his tall, skinny frame folding in stages until he finally finished, sitting with his knees near his chest and his big feet neatly placed side by side on the floor. A few strands of wheat-colored hair dangled across one eye. He reminded Tony of a vulture sitting on a branch.

Calvin launched right into his topic. “It’s about security for the car convention.”

“Is our county big enough to handle a convention?” Tony had lurid visions of intoxicated people in party hats, raccoon caps, or clown wigs, staggering through the quiet streets of Silersville, throwing up on the sidewalks.

“Only small ones.” The mayor released his pent-up breath in a big sigh. “Nothing the national media would find interesting.” He looked both disappointed and resigned.

“I’ve been to a few conventions.” Tony pretended he hadn’t heard Calvin. “The attendees and their spouses often have separate needs. What about this group?”

“According to my contacts, the members and their spouses all drive vintage cars—some are really old. They will need to be allowed to drive slower than the normal traffic. We also hope you can provide some extra security for the cars when they’re parked overnight at the motels.”

“My staff is going to be stretched pretty thin as it is. There are always problems with fireworks and partiers on the Fourth.” Tony was already dreading the increased workload, and the mayor’s expression told him there was more to come. “What else?”

“We are inviting them to participate in the parade. I’m sure you and your staff will do the best you can.” Calvin unfolded and stood up and looked directly into Tony’s eyes. “And here it is, election year already.” He said no more but gave Tony a small salute as he left.

Not amused by the mayor’s less than subtle message, Tony began reworking his deputies’ schedules. He could use a much larger staff in the summer months than they needed in the winter, but there was no money to make it happen. At least, he thought, antique car lovers could be a fairly sedate group, especially if they were the same vintage as their vehicles. He could dream.

Theo wasn’t surprised to see her husband wander into her workroom for the second time in one day. Her quilt shop wasn’t far from the Law Enforcement Center and he had been a most welcome sight when their twin girls were newborns. He’d helped with their frequent feedings. Now they were on something of a schedule and he often dropped by, maybe to help, but more often to take a break from his paperwork and watch little Lizzie and Kara explore their toes.

She smiled as Tony applauded Lizzie’s attempt to crawl. Balanced on her hands and knees, Lizzie held her feet off the floor and rocked back and forth before collapsing onto her face. Her shocked cry was a good excuse to lift her high and kiss her neck.

“How are you going to manage to work up here once they start walking and climbing?” Tony seemed fascinated by her assortment of scissors, razor-sharp rotary cutters, and innumerable pins, needles, and seam rippers. Any could be dangerous in the wrong hands.

Theo deflected the question. “Just like you’ll keep them away from guns, knives, and most of the things hanging on your belt.” He was interrupting her work and her impatience must have shown because he quickly changed the subject.

“I’m actually checking with the business owners about the parade route. Do you see a problem with closing the street to parking, beginning on the evening of the third instead of the morning of the Fourth?”

“Not really.” Theo considered the question and whether the closing would affect her business. “It might even be better. People will be wandering all over downtown and it would be less congested.”

Tony put Lizzie back next to her twin and headed for the door. “I’ll leave you to your work.”

Silence returned, Theo stared at the mess on her worktable. There was no reason the mystery quilt pattern should not work, but it didn’t. She had sketched the thing out and was sure she’d counted the right number of pieces when she’d cut them. Zoe, the shop cat, sat on the corner of the oversized cutting table carefully inspecting one tiny black paw. Theo thought the feline’s expression reeked of disdain, as if she’d never make such an error. The haughty expression in her amber eyes gave nothing away.

“Did you steal a square like this?” Theo picked up a small piece of blue fabric and waved it in the cat’s direction.

The cat refused to discuss the problem and jumped from the table to the floor and stalked away. The very tip of her tail flicked once, snubbing Theo. Thankfully, she left behind the missing piece of fabric. Theo retrieved it and hurried to sew it into place before she misplaced it again.

At the end of the day, on his way home, Tony stopped by the hardware store to pick up another gallon of paint. The brand-new addition to their house, built as a gift from his brother, Caesar Augustus, and his rich wife, Catherine, had not included the paint. Tony had underestimated the amount of pale yellow he’d need to finish a second coat in the new bedroom for his twin girls. The babies needed to move soon; their current nursery was smaller than a closet.

“Sheriff?” Duke McMahon greeted him from behind the counter. “Need some help?”

“Another gallon of the yellow paint.” Tony reached for his wallet.

“Is it going on okay for you? Not splotchy or anything? You know the key is even application.” The owner of the hardware store seemed skeptical of Tony’s abilities.

Thinking the man was not far off the mark, Tony answered honestly. “Yes. It’s just not going as far as I expected. It’s like the walls are absorbing it.”

Nodding his understanding, Duke ambled from the register to the paint department, peered at his records, and pried the lid off a new can of base paint. He glanced up at Tony. “I got a call from Beth.”

Tony grinned. “I delivered the rescued fish. Finster said to tell you thanks for keeping it, although he did seem a bit put out by the situation and not particularly thrilled to have it back. I’m pretty sure he’s going to have trouble getting his wife to allow him to hang it in their house.”

Duke’s lower lip moved forward in a pout. “Women don’t seem to like a lot of things. It’s not just the fish, I have a poster my wife won’t let me hang either. Bought it at a motorcycle rally. Cute chick and hot bike.” His expression resembled that of an overgrown eight-year-old, except for the mustache and beard.

Tony couldn’t help but envy the man’s long, thick, chestnut-brown hair, combed straight back from his forehead and hanging down to his collar like a mane, but he managed to keep himself from whining about his baldness. He guessed Duke’s disgruntled expression might have more to do with being barely over thirty and having three boys, one almost twelve, than being married to a woman who didn’t want her home to resemble a men’s locker room. Whatever Duke thought he’d be doing at thirty, it was probably not running his family hardware store. Being sheriff gave Tony information about people he’d often rather not know. In this case, it was Duke’s spending more time drinking at The Spa, a local bar, than he did at home. Tony decided on a change of subject. Baseball. “The boys have their first tournament game tomorrow evening.”

“That’s right. Your oldest and my youngest are on the same team.” Duke studied Tony’s bald scalp as if he were trying to calculate the difference in their own ages.

Tony thought about telling Duke he was almost forty to the hardware man’s thirty but decided not to waste his breath. Duke had finally poured the color packet into the base paint and was starting the paint-mixing machine. It made such a racket, no one could talk about anything and be heard. Tony suspected the machine might need an overhaul. Above the chugga-chugga sound was the whine of metal grinding against metal. It made Tony’s teeth ache, so he moved to the far side of the hardware store and studied the garden tools. They reminded him to get some cash to pay young Alvin Tibbles. The teenager had recently become the Abernathy yard and garden assistant. The boy mowed and weeded and trimmed for cash, but he seemed to enjoy the work immensely.

Alvin was not alone in the yard when Theo got home. His mother, Candy, who did less to raise the boy than anyone else in town, had parked her car at an angle so it blocked the new driveway, leading to the new garage. Theo parked in the street rather than create a fuss. Theo didn’t know if she ought to interrupt the parent and teenager discussion or not. While she considered it, she managed to pull the infant seats out of the SUV without disturbing either sleeping baby. Her triumph did not prevent Theo from thinking that Candy on a good day was what Theo’s grandmother would have referred to as “trashy.” It wasn’t a nice term, and it was one Theo rarely even used in her thoughts, but Candy was not as sweet as her name.

Candy grew up in a nice home. If her parents were not rich or exciting people, they were at least normal people and caring parents. They clothed her, fed her, took her to church, went to parent/teacher conferences, and did all the usual family things. Candy had decent clothes and spending money. Somehow, though, she never quite grew up. She was unambitious, unremarkable, and lived only for herself. Toward the end of her time in high school, she developed an unfortunate tendency to party. There was talk that she would do anything for a beer. Before graduation, she produced Alvin, and to everyone’s surprise, he was a perfectly normal baby boy.

Theo assumed not even Candy could be sure why she picked the name Alvin. Like the identity of the father, everyone assumed her reason was lost in the murky reaches of her mind.

Alvin and his mom lived out of town a few miles, in the same house where Candy was raised. Candy had never lived anywhere except with her parents. Theo guessed she continued to live with them because doing so was easy and free. And, except that it meant they would lose Alvin, her folks might have thrown her out at some point. Candy’s mom worked at the school cafeteria, and her dad did odd jobs like shoveling snow and mending fences. They raised Alvin.

At least they had until one day when Alvin was about twelve and they were killed in a traffic accident. The bottom fell out of his world. He lost his real family. His mom was worse than useless. Theo thought Candy simply lacked certain qualities most people take for granted. Candy didn’t have what it took to take care of herself, much less her son. So Alvin was moved in and out of different temporary foster homes. None had worked out well.

On the opposite end of the energy and respectability spectrum from his mother, Alvin worked from the day he was big enough to deliver a paper or carry trash or mow lawns. Frequently, or so Theo had heard, Candy stole the money from Alvin and stayed out all night, leaving him alone. He’d had a bad relationship with the former sheriff but liked Tony, maybe because Tony saw to it the boy had a bountiful supply of food. He could eat in the jail kitchen any time he was hungry, without his mom’s interference.

The schools had instituted a program to supply all children who ate two meals free at school, including teenagers, with bags of food to take home on Fridays so they would have something to eat on the weekends. Candy stole Alvin’s, more, Theo suspected, from laziness than money problems. It was easier to steal than cook.

Recently Alvin had achieved legal emancipation. He now had his own apartment. His own bank account his mother could not access. A locked door to protect his privacy and his food.

As Theo approached, she heard Alvin say to his mother, “I’m leaving tomorrow for botany camp, but I’ll be by to see you, or I’ll call Sunday morning as usual and we can talk about it then.”

“You’re going to miss the fireworks.” Looking almost panicky, Candy grasped his arm. “You love the fireworks.”

Alvin patted his mother’s back. “Botany camp is special. You know I’m excited about it, and while I’ll miss watching the fireworks with you, camp’s only for a couple of weeks. Will you remember to water my garden? I drew you a map of where to set the hoses. Did you get it?”

Theo watched Candy nod and had to force herself not to interfere. She could tell there was no way Candy was going to help him.

“Just in case, I’ll ask around and see if I can get someone to do it instead. You won’t have to worry about it.” Alvin glanced up and gave Theo a half smile. “I’ll be done here soon.”

Candy wailed, “I need my baby to come home.”

Theo saw Alvin wince, but he said nothing, just turned back to his yard work. Theo guessed he’d had long practice dealing with his mother’s melodramatic behavior, and she studied her appearance. Candy looked terrible, worse than usual. Dirty strings of mud-brown hair hung across her face. Bloodshot blue eyes peeked through the resulting curtain. A fair number of her teeth were missing, and her skin looked gray with blotchy red spots. Younger than Theo, she looked almost as old as Tony’s mother, a woman who mysteriously never aged, in spite of annual birthday celebrations.

Tony arrived, and after parking the official Park County sheriff’s vehicle behind Theo’s SUV, he climbed out, paint can in hand. He stopped and nodded to Candy.

Not surprisingly, Candy abandoned her car and scuttled away, walking diagonally across the park that their house faced. She didn’t even look back at Alvin, who had returned to his yard work.