Dead Red Cadillac, A (21 page)

"Insurance salesman," he said, amused at my perplexed face.

"How'd you get into Garth's motor home?" I asked.

"I learned a lot of things in prison, not the least of which was how to use a set of jimmies. How'd you do it?"

"I had a key. By the way, are you going to your wife's funeral this Saturday?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, a little smile playing around his mouth.

"You know the security will be tight. They're going to be looking for you."

"Don't tell your sweetheart I said so, but they won't find me. You won't either, so don't try."

"If you're referring to Garth, that slime bucket is not my sweetheart." I thought I sounded a bit like Autumn and hoped it didn't mean I would end up the same way.

His light eyes crinkled merrily at the corners. "I should hope not. Patience always said you were a little dense when it came to men. I meant the sheriff, girly."

Opening my mouth to argue, I changed my mind. He was absolutely right. I had a bad track record.

I closed my eyes, trapping the random thoughts swimming around my brain, looking for a sensible cohesive thread. "You knew it wasn't a botched burglary." When I opened them again, he was watching me with bland detachment. "But how were you to convince the police?" I was thinking out loud, mentally stacking logical blocks on top of each other. "A convicted felon, they'd toss you in jail and throw away the key. Leverage is what you needed, something which would get the press going and force the cops to pay attention. So you did Pin the Tail on the Donkey—namely me and my Caddy—even if it didn't stick. Thank God it didn't. But why involve my family? Why not just leave her where you found her and let the police sort it out? And what if the police hadn't believed that I was innocent? Did you really think it was fair to frame me for killing your wife?"

"Now you wanna talk about fair? I was framed for a murder I didn't commit, spent twenty years in the pen, lost my wife and all that money she'd been holding for us, so don't ever use that word in any conversation with me!"

I backed up with each forceful declaration. "Okay, but did you have to use my Caddy?"

"Why not? She was already dead when I found her. I tore that place apart looking for the money, but it was gone. That money was ours. It was all that gave us any hope at all. But Garth shows up, my wife is murdered, and I couldn't say a damn thing about any of it, now could I?"

I put out my hand, palm up. "Okay, fine. So how do you think you were framed?"

"All right." Eddy rubbed at the back of his neck, willing himself out of his bad mood. "Patience was Bill Hollander's secretary. Every so often, Bill handed her a package of cash to put into the safe. He never considered she'd question where he got it. He just assumed that because she was shy and blond that she was also submissive. Well, he thought wrong. Sometimes she'd see pilots and other guys come into his office, Bill would give her the eye and close his door; something she said he never did otherwise. She told me a couple of cops came in and he'd do the same thing, and later they'd come out all friendly like. So there went our idea to report our suspicions. You don't know this, but the only son Patience and I ever had died from a drug overdose, and she and I both came to the same conclusion—Bill Hollander's drug smuggling had to be stopped. Then one day, she overheard a conversation between Bill and that pilot Bob Norquist. A shipment of drugs from Mexico was coming in. None of those crooks would ever see the inside of prison if somebody didn't do something. I wanted to confront him, and she said we should wait, she'd think of something."

I interrupted. "What about the FBI or the FTA?—they'd be interested in international smuggling."

"We weren't sure the suits coming out of his office weren't some of those guys. I was so hot under the collar that I went to his office without telling her. Bill was already dead and the rest is history."

"Then where did the money come from that Patience had been hiding all these years?"

"Patience was one smart woman. Just like always, he gave her cash for the safe. Only this time, she switched bags on him and brought it home. She was going to give it back to him the next day with a warning that if he continued to be involved with drug smugglers, she would go to the cops. Of course, she wasn't counting on someone murdering Bill that night."

"Your lawyer told you to plead temporary insanity?" I asked.

"Sure did, and ruined any chance for an appeal. I learned that in prison. That guy was a jackass. I might as well have defended myself—could've done better. I got framed for that murder, and if you turn me in before I can prove that Garth killed my girl, then they'll throw me in the slammer and pin another murder charge on me. Not that it matters anymore. With Patience gone, I might as well be back in prison—or dead."

"Back to that night Patience was killed. You must have had help. Who drove you out to the ranch?" I asked.

He shook his head. "A motorbike," he said. "One of those useless little contraptions hanging off the back of a camper that says, 'steal me.' Thankfully, they'd left me a tank full of gas. I got there in time to see the damage that SOB had done to my poor girl. I promised Patience I'd get in a lick for her if it was the last thing I ever did. So I put the motorbike in the trunk of the old yellow Pinto she couldn't drive anymore, and I drove out to your place. I took your Caddy, drove out to the main street, walked back, got the Pinto, then parked it in the orchard next to yours. From there, I took her out to the lake.

"God, it was hard letting her go, watching that water slide over her head. I used the motorbike to return to the Pinto. By the time I pulled into her carport, the sky was getting light. I guess I should apologize. I am sorry for the trouble I've caused you and your dad. Do you forgive me?"

"I just wish you hadn't felt the need to drown my Caddy."

"No one would've given it a second look if it was parked there all day, and the heat has been into the hundreds. Not a pretty thought for what she'd look like when the cops finally got around to checking it out."

"Why not leave her there where you found her, call it in and let the police figure it out?"

Eddy giggled again, "And miss out on all the fun we've had? I can't apologize for what I did. That's when I thought of Noah. I was going to leave her in one of his airplanes, but worried he might not work Sundays, and remembered that Caddy of yours. It was better'n a big billboard with red tailfins."

"There was a pendant of Autumn's found smashed in the door of my Caddy. How'd it get in there if she wasn't involved?"

"I found it in Garth's RV the first time I saw her come out of his rig. I knew if I gave that girl enough rope she'd hang herself, I'm sorry to say. I didn't know Garth would kill her, too."

"It's too bad you couldn't come clean with me and my dad sooner. Maybe we could've prevented another murder."

His expression was exasperation mingled with amusement. "Girly, that wasn't likely to happen. They'll shoot holes in any story you come up with, too. There's no helping me now. No, sorry, this way Patience will get her revenge, and so will I.

"I'm leaving now," he said, "before somebody watching decides to get nosy. Turn around," he said, gripping me by the shoulder. "I don't want you to feel obligated to tell them you saw which way I went."

I did as he asked, instinctively hiking my shoulders up to protect my neck. I waited. Nothing happened for a minute, then I could feel his breath close to my ear as he whispered, "Unlike Lalla Bains, some of us only get one chance to make things right. Don't let the ones you love slip away; remember that, will you?"

I wanted to tell him I'd discovered how Garth sneaked out and murdered Autumn without being detected. But he was already gone when I turned around. I was getting used to this guy disappearing while my back was turned.

I brushed the dirt off my slacks and started toward my truck parked out front. From behind the steering wheel, Maya was frantically pointing to my right.

I looked to where she was pointing and, at the same time, my pager went off.

Yeah, I see him, Maya.

Garth reached me in three long strides, his welcoming hug sliding to a halt at the expression on my face.

Damn. Why didn't I just blurt, "Guilty!" and be done with it. But I did manage to pull myself out of a tailspin when I blurted, "I just saw Eddy McBride!"

"Where?" He pivoted a one-eighty. "Where'd he come from? Is he still here?"

"No, thank God. But I saw him coming out of your motor home!" I pointed to the hatch door hanging open under his motor home.

He ignored it and grabbed my arm. "You okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm fine." But why wasn't he dropping my arm to run over to the motor home and see if the little brown suitcase was still in its hiding place? This reaction was a surprise.

What was it I was missing here? Everything had fallen into place. He'd obviously murdered his aunt, extracted a promise from his ex not to talk if he gave her the money, and then found a way to get to his girlfriend before she ran off with all the money he took. All I had to do was call Caleb.

Caleb strolled around the corner, followed by Detective Rodney.

Detective Rodney sneered. "Speak of the devil."

Seeing me in Garth's arms, Caleb stiffened, his jaw working as he tried to get his emotions under control.

I shook my head at him, mouthing the words, "It's not what you think."

He glared at me to keep quiet. Then he took out a pair of handcuffs. For a minute there, I thought they were for me.

But instead, he turned the unresisting Garth around and clamped the cuffs on him. "I'm arresting you for the murders of Patience McBride and Alexandra Graham."

Garth's mouth dropped, then he looked at me. "I didn't do it, Lalla," he said through clenched teeth. "Let's get this over with, Sheriff. My lawyer will have me out in five minutes, and then I'm going to sue your department for harassment."

Caleb grunted. "You do that."

I stood watching Caleb and the detective march Garth to a waiting police car. Not taking any chances of losing him, two more cars with flashing lights blocked the exits.

When the police left, Caleb came back to where I stood, hands hanging by my sides.

"Uh, what made you change your mind about arresting Garth?" I asked. "I thought you wanted to use him for bait to get Eddy. What happened to that idea?"

"Garth's daughter talked."

"What did she say?"

"Garth was there Saturday, not Sunday. Thanks to her and the tire tracks on last Friday's newspaper, and Autumn's recorded testimony, we got him. It won't take much to get Garth's ex to talk now. We have enough for an indictment. We couldn't chance that Garth might not get antsy and run off before the funeral." He looked around, as if just now realizing where we were standing. "What were you doing here?"

"I know you told me to stay away from him, but I wanted to confirm an idea I had. And I found how he slipped the surveillance you had watching his motor home."

He tipped his chin down, waiting.

"It's under his bed, and there's a trap door to the ground under the bus. It's how he escaped to find Autumn and kill her before she could testify against him. And I found you a bonus. The money he stole from Eddy is in an old brown suitcase behind an awning."

He gave me a disapproving look. "You opened it?"

"No, of course not. Come on, I'll show you," I said, trying to drag him along to the open storage door.

He stayed where he was, pulling me back into his arms and, brushing the hair whipping around my face out of my eyes, said, "You shouldn't be here. Go home. If you're right, I'll let you know. Now go. Please?"

I still needed Caleb to verify my theory that I'd crushed Garth's alibi. "But he still could've gotten out through the storage compartment, right?"

"Maybe. Not your problem anymore. Now scoot," he said, turning me around and giving my bottom a little pat.

I glared at him, shaking a finger for emphasis. "Not fair, Caleb Stone." Where it didn't work on Eddy, I still held it in my arsenal for Caleb. "I was right, and you can't even say thanks."

The warmth in his eyes melted, leaving only steel in its place. "It's not fair that the entire department thinks I need to spend my time keeping you out of trouble."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. You know I never meant to cause you trouble."

"I know, Lalla. Now go home."

Head down, I trudged back to the truck.

Seeing my long face, Maya said, "Did I mess up?"

"No, sugar," I said, all perky again, since I had what I came for anyway. "You did fine. Let's go home." Garth had been arrested, and as far as I was concerned, Eddy could come back and pick up that damned suitcase and get out of town. Case closed.

Maya was talking. "Then how come Caleb came out and arrested Garth? Did you find what you were looking for? Any evidence?"

"Not unless you count being a pain in the ass to Caleb," I said. My goddaughter was still giving me worshipful looks. "Oh, sugar, I shouldn't have brought you out here."

"Why do you say that? This was way cool. You got out without him catching you and he got arrested. What's next?"