Murder at the Courthouse (17 page)

“What's that?”

“That it's some psycho killer who's knocking off people whose names start with
J
. Jim Deatin over at the auto parts
store is talking about closing up shop and taking an extended vacation just in case.”

“Spare us, Buck, and get out of here.” Betty Jean glanced at him over her computer screen. “Some people have to work instead of sitting around yammering all day.”

“Hey, we're working.” Buck laughed. “Got to consider every idea in our quest to protect the public. To protect you.”

“Wonderful. I feel so much better now that you're after psychos with a thing about
J
first names.” Betty Jean made a face.

“It might not have to be a first name, Betty Jean, with this psycho
J
killer. Maybe you ought to go off with Jim. I hear he's been sort of lonesome since his wife up and left him.”

Betty Jean calmly picked up her empty coffee mug and threw it at Buck. He caught it easily and set the mug back on her desk with a laugh. It was an old routine between them. “Guess I'll mosey on up the street and lean on Leland. I hear he's been out digging, and it's time he learned to share.”

Michael wanted to leave the office and go lean on somebody too. But he didn't know anybody to lean on other than Anthony, who was staying out of Michael's sight. Besides, his desk was loaded down with routine work. Just because the town had been rocked by a couple of homicides didn't mean everything else screeched to a halt.

The phone rang almost continuously, but Betty Jean had her spiel down pat. No, there were no new breaks in the case. Yes, the sheriff had everything under control. Yes, that was an interesting possibility. No, she couldn't say whether the sheriff had thought of that yet, but she was sure he'd check it out. No, she didn't know when the sheriff would be available to talk to them. Even after the sheriff came in, she said the same thing.

The sheriff paid no attention as he creaked his chair up and back enough to get on everybody's nerves before he stood up and said he'd heard people were speeding out at the interstate exit. Since he knew Michael didn't have time right now, what with the homicide investigation and all, to do much ticketing, maybe he'd go do some patrolling.

Betty Jean waited until he left to say, “Not to mention it's Friday.”

“Friday?” Michael looked over at her, puzzled.

“Chicken and dumplings special out at the Country Diner. I'd go out there myself if Lester was here to cover the phones.”

Michael thought about mentioning her diet but thought better of it. “You heard from Lester since he went out to the lake?”

“He's called in a couple of times. To hear him, you'd think they were going to find sunken treasure. He hasn't been this excited since the kids at school gave him that little trophy shaped like a whistle.”

“How long did the sheriff say they could keep diving out there?”

“All day. You have to pay them for a full day whether they work that long or not. Uncle Al believes in getting full return for the taxpayers' dollars. By the way, you'll have to go out there this afternoon so Lester can come do his crossing guard duty. I promised him you would.”

“Okay. I guess the city will have to pay for this since it was Paul's baby.”

“Maybe so, but don't forget, city taxpayers vote in county elections too.”

“Betty Jean, did anybody ever tell you that you are awfully cynical for a small-town girl?” Michael asked with a smile.

“Small town, big town. Politicians still want votes and voters still don't like to pay taxes.”

The telephone rang again, and Michael went back to work on his report of the latest fender bender as Betty Jean started through her spiel. Suddenly she plunked the caller on hold, hissed at Michael, and pointed toward the hall. “There he goes.”

Michael was out from behind his desk and in the hall in a flash. Anthony took off, but Michael collared the boy at the front door without ceremony.

“What's going on, Deputy?” The boy gasped as he attempted to pull away from Michael's hold. “I haven't done anything.”

“Nothing but skip school again.” Michael eased his hold on the boy's arm but didn't turn him loose. “It's time we had a long talk.”

“So I skipped school. I keep getting sick.” Anthony's face was closed tight. “What more do you want to know?”

“Whatever you know that you're not telling about what's going on around here. You don't want to end up like Joe.”

“I can take care of myself.” Anthony was stiff, but he stopped trying to pull free.

“Sure you can, kid. But we're still going to talk.”

“Okay. You're the cop. If you want to talk, I guess I'll listen.”

“Good choice.” Michael tightened his hold on the boy's arm and propelled him back down the hall.

Stella Pinkston peeked out of the county clerk's office and giggled.

“She'll make a good witness when I take you to court for police brutality.” Anthony dragged his feet on the floor.

“You're not taking anybody to court. Now be quiet and walk.”

“What's going on out here, Mike?” The judge's voice
hadn't quite gotten back to full boom, and his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them.

Before Michael could say anything, Anthony spoke up again. “Hey, Judge. Help me out here. Tell him to let me go.”

The judge ignored Anthony and kept his eyes on Michael. “Shouldn't this boy be in school?”

“Yes sir. We're getting ready to discuss that,” Michael said. “Don't worry. I've got things under control.”

The judge nodded and retreated back into his office.

Anthony made a sound that was almost a laugh. “The judge doesn't look happy. Are you happy, Deputy?”

“For somebody who doesn't want to talk, you're doing a lot of it.” Michael pushed the boy into the sheriff's office.

Betty Jean was on the phone again. She looked up at Michael with relief. She put her hand over the phone. “Good. You didn't leave.” Then she spoke back into the phone. “Stop shouting in my ear, Lester, and just calm down. I'll send Michael on out. He'll know what to do.”

Michael shoved Anthony down into one of the chairs and stood guard over him. He wasn't about to let him slip away again.

When Betty Jean put down the phone, he said, “Don't tell me they actually found a gun.”

“No. But they did find something.”

“Not another body.” Michael's stomach tightened.

“Sort of. A car. The divers say it's been there a long time, but they think somebody was in it. I guess I should say is in it. Or what's left of them.”

Michael stared at her. “This has got to be a joke.”

“You wish.” Betty Jean reached for the phone book. “You're going to need a wrecker.”

“I don't think that will do it. Better hunt some kind of crane.”

Anthony stood up. “I guess that means you don't have time to mess with me, Deputy. What say we cut it short? I promise to go to school and do what good little boys are supposed to do and stay out of your hair. Let you get back to important things.”

“You're not going anywhere.” Michael stepped in front of him.

“Why not? You can't arrest me for skipping school.”

“I'm not arresting you. Just holding you in protective custody for a while. We'll talk on the way out to the lake.”

“I told you, Deputy. You can't make me talk.”

“So far my problem has been getting you to shut up.” Michael fingered the handcuffs on his belt. “Now, are you coming peacefully or do I get out the cuffs?”

Anthony shrugged a little. “I guess I wouldn't mind seeing what they found out there. Might be more fun than hanging around here. Besides, the guy at the paper has offered to pay me for any story leads I bring him.”

Michael locked Anthony in the backseat of the cruiser to give the kid the chance to get in a more cooperative frame of mind. The boy squawked a little, but when Michael paid no attention, he slumped down in sullen silence. Michael didn't bother talking either as he headed out toward the lake.

They'd been on the road ten minutes when Anthony broke the silence. “Why aren't you using your lights and siren?”

“Whoever's in that car will still be there when we get there.”

“Who do you think it is?” Anthony tried to sound bored, but a little curiosity sneaked through.

“Nobody we know or somebody would have missed them a long time ago. Folks in Hidden Springs don't just disappear.”

“That's not what I've been told,” Anthony said.

Michael looked at the boy in his rearview mirror. “All right, Anthony. What have you been told?”

The boy's face shut down. “Nothing you want to hear, Deputy.”

“Fine, but just so you know. The two of us are going to be constant companions until you tell me what I want to know.
For your own safety.” Michael flashed his eyes between the road and the boy. Not exactly the best cross-examination situation. “And don't try coming up with some cock-and-bull story, because I want to hear the truth.”

A blaze of challenge shot through Anthony's eyes as he glared at Michael in the mirror. “Nobody in Hidden Springs wants the truth. They never have.”

“What say we give it a try? You tell me whatever you know and that might help us both figure things out.” Michael met the boy's eyes in the mirror for a second.

“It doesn't have anything to do with you.” Anthony looked down.

“You need to let me decide that.”

“Okay, I'll come clean. I did skip school and you want to know why?” Anthony scooted up closer to the barrier between the seats. “Because school stinks. Now you have the truth. Satisfied?”

“I hope you like it back there.” Michael tried to sound like he was promising him ice cream cones and popsicles. “You may be there awhile.”

“What if I have to take a leak?”

“We'll work something out.”

“Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just let go here in the backseat.”

“Then you'll have to sit there in wet pants like a baby until we get back to the courthouse, where you'll be obliged to scrub the seat.” Michael kept his voice cheerful and his eyes on the road.

Behind him, Anthony grumbled under his breath. Michael caught a few words now and again, but he ignored them. Let the boy grouse. Get it out of his system.

Michael turned off the main road and bounced through the ruts on the narrow gravel road down to the lake. A cloud of white dust chased after the car.

Some years back the county officials had talked about blacktopping the road with the idea that people might build summer homes down along the lakefront or bring in camping trailers. The only problem was that they couldn't get Baxter Perry on board. Baxter owned most of the land along the road, and none of it was for sale. He wasn't about to let a bunch of tourists move into his best hayfields. He didn't care what anybody offered him an acre.

These days nobody besides Baxter used the road to the lake much except local fishermen and sometimes teenagers looking for a place to do things they shouldn't. Michael occasionally patrolled the road on Friday and Saturday nights just to keep the kids straight, and as Lester had said, it was a good fishing spot.

He felt funny now thinking about the times he'd sat on the rocks dropping a line down in the water, thinking how peaceful and serene the place was, when all the while somebody had died in a car below his hook. Maybe everything he'd always believed about Hidden Springs was a polished-up illusion, and Anthony was right. Instead of hunting for the answers, could it be he was hiding from the truth?

Michael glanced up in the mirror at Anthony huddled against the door, staring out the window. They made a pair. Michael didn't want to believe anything but good about Hidden Springs and Anthony nothing but bad.

The grappling fingers of the bushes along the road gave way to a wide clearing with a pull-off on the rock cliff towering over the lake. Lester's car was sitting right in the middle of the
clearing, his blue lights flashing round and round. A beat-up red pickup was parked over close to the edge of the cliff with ropes and cables spilling out over the lowered tailgate. Lester and another man stood at the cliff edge, peering down at a boat floating on the gentle bluish-green waters of the lake.

“Stay put,” Michael told Anthony.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Michael didn't look around as he opened the door.

“How about rolling my window down back here?” Anthony scooted up and grabbed the barrier between him and the front seat.

“No.” Michael still didn't look at him. “The front windows are down. You'll be fine.”

“I get claustrophobic in closed-up places, Deputy.” Anthony raised his voice a little.

Michael finally looked around at him. “Then you'd better get used to it or start talking.”

“I don't know what you want me to tell you.” Anthony sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He turned his head away from Michael.

“I think you do, kid.”

Michael was glad to see Buck pulling up behind his cruiser. Buck had been around a long time, and if he ever worked on a missing persons report, he would remember.

Muttering a few choice words under his breath, Buck stepped up beside Michael. “Remind me to go in the front when we leave here. I've been eating your dust for a mile.” He spit on the ground and then spotted Anthony in Michael's cruiser. “What's he doing here?”

“I'm just hanging on to him for a while. For his own protection.”

“He got anything to do with this?” Buck gestured out toward the lake. “I mean, you don't think after all these years . . .” Buck left the thought dangling.

Michael looked at Buck, who was staring out at the lake now, and the uneasiness that had been with him all the way down to the lake suddenly had a name. The only missing person in Hidden Springs who had never turned up was Roxanne, but that had been over ten years ago.

“That's crazy,” he said to Buck.

“Yeah,” Buck agreed. “They say whether it was a man or woman in the car?”

“Not that I've heard.”

Buck blew out a long breath. “Guess we'd better go see what they've got.”

After they talked to the divers, Michael sent Lester back out to the main road to wait for the crane Betty Jean had managed to locate. When Buck asked him how he thought they'd get a crane down that sorry excuse for a road, Michael radioed Betty Jean to get Baxter Perry to come out with his chain saw.

Then with a sigh, he told her to call Justin and the sheriff. “The divers say the water's murky down there, but they're sure they saw a skull in the car.”

It took a long time to get the car out. The sheriff came and left. Lester went to do his crossing guard duties at the school and came back with Hank Leland on his tail. Michael relented and let Anthony out of the car, but he or Buck stayed on the boy like a shadow as the afternoon slid by. When Anthony claimed to be starving, Buck got him a pack of peanuts and a lukewarm soda out of his stakeout stash.

Anthony gave him a look. “How come you're being so nice, Sergeant? You decided we look alike or something?”

“Don't get your hopes up, kid,” Buck told him. “If you'd been mine, I'd have beat the you-know-what out of you a long time ago. Now eat and shut up before I forget you ain't.”

Quitting time came and the divers went into overtime. The shadows lengthened, and Michael asked Betty Jean to call Karen and Alex for him. He didn't have a signal on his cell phone.

“Both of them?” she said. “And what do I tell them? Michael can't decide which of you he wants to see tonight?”

“Lay off, Betty Jean. It's been a long day. Just tell Karen I'll call her tomorrow and Alex that it looks like the big city is out of the question and even Cindy's finest is doubtful.”

“You sound blue about it. You want me to tell her that too?” Betty Jean said.

“Would you cut it out? We're on the radio.”

“Oh, sorry.” Betty Jean didn't sound one bit sorry.

“Anything else going on?” Michael asked.

“Those forensic guys have been over at Joe's for hours. Maybe Buck should come in and talk to them.”

Michael looked at Buck, who shook his head. “He'll check with them later. You can go on home if you want to.”

“You know who it is yet?” Betty Jean asked. “The judge wanted me to ask.”

“We may not know even after we get the car out. They say it's been down there a long time.” Michael started to key off but then added, “Thanks for finding the crane, Betty Jean. You're a wonder.”

“I've been telling you that for months.” She gave a snort and broke the connection.

“Big date, Deputy?” Anthony said after Michael put the radio back in his belt. “I wouldn't want to mess that up for you. So whenever we get away from here, you can just drop me off at my car and you can take out your girlfriend.”

“I told you, kid.” Michael barely glanced at him. “You're with me till I get some straight talk out of you.”

“Whatever.” Anthony shrugged a little. “It's your date.”

Down below in the lake, the divers surfaced and began making upward motions. Then they clambered over the edge of their boat and scooted it well out of the way. The crane operator started cranking up the cable, and in a matter of moments, the car's bumper and grille broke the surface of the water. Hank lay down on his belly on the rocks close to the edge, busily clicking pictures.

“A Chevy,” Buck said softly. “Can you tell a color?”

“It's hard to tell with the rust.” Michael squinted at the car. “Red maybe.”

Buck didn't say anything more as the car emerged from the water inch by inch. When it broke free of the water, he looked over at Michael. “Better put the kid back in your cruiser. We won't have time to watch him.”

“Where could I go?” Anthony protested. “We're at the end of nowhere.”

Buck ignored Anthony with his eyes hard on Michael. “Do it.”

Michael looked at the car, then back at Buck before he took hold of Anthony's arm. “Come on, Anthony.”

“What's going on here?” Anthony jerked loose from Michael and stared at Buck.

“Nothing, kid. Just do as you're told for once without raising a fuss.” Buck didn't quite meet the boy's eyes.

Anthony stepped up close to Buck. “You think it's her, don't you?”

Buck didn't push the boy away as he looked him straight in the eye. “I don't know. It could be.”

Anthony's eyes went to the car streaming water back down into the lake. “If it is, I have to know.”

Buck put his arm around the boy's shoulders. “You'll be the first we'll tell, but just in case this is your mama, you don't want to see this. You want to remember her the way she was to you as a little boy. Not this way.”

Anthony looked scared and near tears as he shrugged off Buck's arm and stalked toward Michael's car. Michael followed him, but at the car, Anthony said, “You don't have to lock me in. I ain't going anywhere.”

When Michael hesitated, Anthony went on. “You have my word.”

Michael wasn't sure he could trust the boy, but he was sure that he'd spoil any chance of ever reaching him if he didn't. “Okay, Anthony. On your word.”

“Hey, Deputy,” Anthony said as Michael turned back toward the cliff. “I used to keep a couple of little cars in the glove box to play with if I had to wait on Mama. You think they'd still be there?”

Michael looked around at the boy. Behind him, the cable screeched and the car scraped against the rocks. He kept his eyes on Anthony's face. “I don't know, but I'll look.”

Michael and Buck pried loose the door with a crowbar. It popped open with a loud creak, and more water and a couple of carp spilled out on their shoes.

“Careful,” Justin cautioned behind them.

Michael wasn't sure exactly why they needed to be
careful. There was nothing left but bones, and the years in the water and then the journey back onto land had disturbed them more than he and Buck ever could. The skull, like something out of a horror movie, stared up at him with green algae growing on its forehead and in its empty eye sockets.

Buck swore under his breath. “I wish I could go sit in the car.”

“Female.” Justin spoke briskly beside them. With rubber-gloved hands he picked up a leg bone. “About five feet four, slight frame.”

He had a stretcher with a body bag pulled up close to the car. He handed Michael and Buck some rubber gloves. “Get every fragment you can. It's the least we can do for the poor soul after all these years.”

“Do you think it's Roxanne?” Michael asked no one in particular as he pulled on the gloves with a snap.

“We'll have to use dental records to make a positive ID,” Justin said. “But Buck says the car's right, and the bone structure fits. I wouldn't be surprised.”

They gathered the woman's remains, gently laying each find in the body bag, and the whole time he worked, Michael could almost feel Anthony breathing down his neck, even though the boy had stayed in the cruiser.

Instead, it was Hank peering over their shoulders to get a better view. He might have taken pictures if Buck hadn't looked up at him and growled, “You even think about snapping a picture, Leland, the camera goes in the lake whether you turn loose of it or not.”

Hank took one look at Buck's face and lowered his camera. “I'll get a shot of the car when you're finished.” He backed off a respectable distance.

Once Justin was satisfied there was nothing more to be disturbed or found, Michael reached across and pried open the glove compartment. A rust-encrusted revolver fell out in his hand. Right behind it were the two cars. He picked the biggest one up and scraped some crud off it until the shape of a hot rod appeared like magic under his fingers.