Murder at the Courthouse (18 page)

“What'd you find?” Buck asked.

Michael opened his hand to show the toy car. “He said it would be there.”

“I always knew she wouldn't leave the boy.” Buck looked as if his faith in motherhood had been restored.

Michael's hand closed around the toy. Lester was helping Justin load up his hearse yet one more time. “Accident?” Michael said.

“Who knows? I hope so, but can't imagine why she'd be out here by herself.” Buck yanked off the rubber gloves and pitched them into the car. “Justin said her skull was cracked, but that could have happened on the way down. One thing sure, I don't think she drove into the lake on purpose.”

“Did you know she had a gun?”

“No, but doesn't surprise me. Roxanne wasn't the kind to take chances or to trust somebody else to bail her out of trouble if it came along.” Buck shook his head and clapped a hand on Michael's shoulder. “Look, Mike, maybe last week we could have worried this into a homicide, but fact of the matter is, even if we did, I don't know what we'd do next. The trail is cold. Stone-cold. And we aren't doing so hot figuring out a couple of murders that happened so close under our noses, we ought to be able to sniff out the culprit.”

“Maybe you're right.”

“Buck Garrett is always right.”

“I thought it was Garrett always gets his man.” Michael managed a little smile.

“That too. Now watch what you say. That pesky Leland is inching back over this way.”

“You think you can keep him occupied while I go talk to Anthony?” Michael looked over at Hank. “I wouldn't want his picture on the front page next week.”

“Leland's going to have so much to put on the front page next week he may have to put out two of them, but go ahead. I'll take care of our newshound.”

“I can trust you not to throw him in the lake?”

“Don't worry, Mike. I can be nice when I want to be.”

To prove it, Buck moved between Michael and Hank before the editor got out his first question.

“Hey, Leland, quit playing favorites.” Buck sounded like he was talking to a long-lost friend. “Keane's not the only one around here who knows what's going down. Why don't you ask me your questions?”

Hank practically dropped his pencil. “Is that before or after you throw me in the lake, Garrett?”

“What a joker.” Buck let out a hearty laugh and put his arm around Hank. “Come on. If you want pictures of the car, now's the time before T.R. starts loading it up.”

His eyes wide, Hank glanced back over his shoulder at Michael as Buck began steering him toward the car. “He's going to throw me over, isn't he?”

Michael tried to keep a straight face. “I think you're safe as long as you don't try to take his picture.”

Anthony took the toy car from Michael without a word. Michael sat down beside him and waited, not sure what to expect out of the boy. Sorrow, anger, disbelief. He was
ready for any of that. He wasn't ready when the boy started laughing.

“All these years, she's been right here.” Anthony looked over at the lake. “Right here.”

Michael put his hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled him around where he could see his face. “You all right, Anthony?”

“Don't look so worried, Deputy.” Anthony's laughter died away, but a smile stayed on his face. “The thing is, I always knew my mother wouldn't go off and leave me like everybody said she did. And she didn't, did she?”

“No, she didn't.”

His smile faded completely away. “I guess that man was right. Somebody did kill her.”

“What man?”

“That first guy. Rayburn. He told me somebody killed her.”

Michael stared at him intently. “When did he tell you that?”

“The morning he got shot. He called the house before Aunt Vera even got up. She gave me heck about that. Said I'd better tell my friends to wait till a decent hour to be calling.”

“You were the one meeting him at the courthouse?”

“Yeah. He told me if I wanted to know more, to meet him in the parking lot at nine.” Anthony looked straight at Michael. “He said he knew something must have happened to my mother back when she disappeared and that he wanted to help me find out what.”

“How was he going to help you find out?”

“He said he'd tell me more when we met. That he was pretty sure who my mother had been hanging around with before she disappeared.”

“Did he tell you who that was?” Michael asked.

Anthony's face closed up again. “Nope. Said that it might
be better if I didn't know too much until he worked a few things out. That bad things happened to people who knew too much sometimes. I guess he must have known too much, huh, Deputy?”

“Could be.”

“And Joe too. What do you think Joe knew?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Well, now you know what I know.” The kid leaned back and blew out a breath.

“Do I?” Michael studied the boy's face.

“I've spilled my guts. What more do you want?”

“Everything you know.”

“I told you everything. The man called. Told me he figured something must have happened to my mother all those years ago. Wanted me to meet him so he could help me find out what. Then he was dead when I got there.”

“Is that everything, Anthony?” Michael kept his eyes steady on the boy's face. “I get the feeling there's more.”

Anthony turned defiant. “Do I have to make something up so you'll be happy?”

“I only want the truth.”

“Are you sure that's what you want?” Anthony narrowed his eyes on Michael.

“Try me.” Michael didn't waver.

“Okay, Deputy, here's the truth. I told you what I know. That's it. The whole story. I don't know anything else.” Anthony dropped his eyes back to the car in his hand. He pushed it forward a little. “How about that? It still almost rolls.”

Michael gave up on getting Anthony to do any more talking and locked the boy in again. Anthony hardly seemed to notice as he rubbed the little car with the bottom of his T-shirt.

On the other hand, Hank wouldn't quit talking as he followed Michael around, throwing out question after question. How come Anthony was with Michael? Had Michael had a tip about the car in the lake? From Anthony? About it being Roxanne? If they didn't have a tip about the car, why were they at the lake?

Finally Michael turned and looked straight at Hank. “You're asking the wrong person. You need to talk to Paul Osgood. This whole operation was his idea.”

“Can't. At least not right now.” Hank stuck the lens cover on his camera and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Last I heard, they weren't real sure Paul was going to pull through.”

Michael thought maybe the editor was trying to pull one over on him to get an unguarded comment he could print. “You're kidding?”

“Nope, honest. He's in bad shape. Something about a mistake in medication.” Hank looked at Michael with narrowed
eyes. “You think our killer found out Paul knows something and found a way to slip him the wrong medicine on purpose?”

“That's crazy,” Michael said.

“No crazier than this.” The editor nodded toward the car they'd pulled out of the lake. “You finding Roxanne's long-lost car, and then her kid being here in your car. Come on, Michael. You don't expect me to believe this is just a coincidence. Something fishy is going on here, and it's my duty as a newspaperman to find out what.” Hank pulled out his notebook and pencil.

“Weird things do seem to happen, don't they, Hank? Like the way you just happened to follow Lester out here.”

Hank shut his notebook and stuffed it back into his shirt pocket. “I suppose coincidences can happen.”

Michael didn't let him off the hook that easily. “And I hear your information network has expanded to include mixed-up kids.”

Hank had the grace to look a bit shame-faced. “I didn't offer the boy much more than an understanding ear.”

“That's all, huh?”

“It could be I did say I might be able to help him hunt for his mother. It's not all that hard to find people nowadays. Not if you know how to search on the computer.” Hank flicked his eyes over to the car they fished out of the lake and back to Michael. “Of course, don't guess I'd have had much chance of finding her in this case.”

“Anthony's got enough problems without you playing with his head to get a story.”

“Oh, give me a break, Michael. I'd pass anything he told me on to you.”

“I mean it, Hank. Leave the kid alone.” Michael gave him
a hard look. “This isn't a game and I don't want to find any more dead bodies. Especially not Anthony's. And not yours either, for that matter.”

Hank stopped in mid-reach for his notebook. His eyes widened as he hit his chest with his hand instead. “Mine?”

“You've been digging. You may have found out too much.”

“You're giving me the willies, Michael.” Hank looked around uneasily. “I won't even be able to drive out of here without locking my doors now.”

“Good.”

“I haven't really found anything out.”

“But you like to sound as if you have, and the murderer may not want to take any chances.”

“Do you think he murdered Roxanne too?”

Hank didn't seem to expect an answer since he left his notebook in his pocket. That was just as well because Michael had no answer to give him.

Evening shadows had darkened into night before they wrapped things up and headed back to civilization. Buck threatened to shoot out Lester's tires if he tried to go in front of him down the gravel road. So Lester had to settle for the spot behind the wrecker.

Justin and the divers were long gone, but that still left Hank and Michael behind Lester, with Baxter Perry bringing up the rear as though he had to close some invisible gate behind them. Lester's blue lights stabbed holes in the darkness as they made their way back to the main road and gave the whole thing the feel of a funeral procession.

The slow drive away from the lake gave Michael plenty of time to think about Hank's last question. While it had been nothing but the weirdest coincidence that they found the car
while on a wild-goose chase thought up by a delirious man, that didn't change the fact that Rayburn had known Roxanne, had even professed to know she had been murdered.

What if she had? What if Rayburn had been blackmailing the murderer all these years and the murderer got tired of paying? That didn't explain why Rayburn asked Anthony to meet him at the courthouse. Or was Anthony even telling the truth about that? Or about Rayburn already being dead when Anthony got there? How much had Anthony actually seen?

Too much to let him go home and disappear into the night again. That was for sure.

Back out on the main road at last, the procession split up, with Buck heading one way, the wrecker turning back out toward the interstate, and Hank rushing for town to get his headlines in print. Hank told Michael this kind of news couldn't wait till next Wednesday. He planned to put out a special issue of the
Gazette
the next day.

Michael radioed Lester to turn off his lights and go home.

“Can't I wait till we get to town?” Lester asked.

“No, Lester. Now.”

“Okay, Michael.” Lester didn't sound happy, but he doused the lights. The air was calmer at once. “But if you need any more help tonight, you call me. I'll be right there.”

In the backseat, Anthony laughed after Michael signed off. “That Lester's something. You don't watch out, he'll save the world instead of you.”

“He might.” Michael put down the radio. “As long as it gets saved, right?”

Anthony scooted up next to the grille between the seats. “Look, Deputy, I'm tired. How about letting me go home? I told you what I know.”

Michael didn't bother answering. Instead, as soon as he had a strong cell signal, he pulled over and called Vera Arnold. He told her what they might have found in the lake and that he was going to keep Anthony with him for a while.

For once in her life, Vera was without words. There was such a long silence that Michael was almost ready to check his phone to see if the call dropped when she squeaked, “Roxanne?”

“Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid that's what it looks like, although no official identification has been made. Justin will call you in the morning with more information.”

“I can't believe it,” she finally said after another long silence. “I always figured Roxanne would come waltzing home one day dressed to the nines and dripping diamonds, and you say she's been in the lake all this time?”

“That's how it appears, but until Justin makes it official, it'd be best if you didn't share that news with anybody.”

After he disconnected the call, he imagined Vera's hand hovering over her phone. He'd be surprised if she didn't succumb to the temptation, and by morning everybody in Hidden Springs would know they'd found Roxanne. It didn't really matter. Though it might not be official, the bones in the car had been Roxanne's. There wasn't much doubt about that.

Michael sighed and then scrolled down to Reece's number. Nobody answered. Maybe Reece had gone to Eagleton with Alex after Michael canceled out. Just as well. Michael was way too tired to match wits with Alex tonight. Still, her outsider's view of the town might let her see something in the whole mess that Michael was missing. And he had to be missing something.

He got burgers and fries at a restaurant's drive-thru window out at the interstate before he turned toward home. After Anthony made short work of the burger, he scooted up to talk to Michael again. “You said you'd let me go if I talked. I talked.”

“I know.” Michael kept his eyes on the road. “Sorry about that. But don't worry. I'll let you go to school Monday.”

“How do you know I'll stay at school? You going to follow me around all day?”

“Maybe. Or who knows? Lester wants to help. He'd probably enjoy a day at the high school. Now eat your fries before they get cold.”

“What about your big date tonight, Deputy?” Anthony sat back in the seat and slurped up his drink.

“Duty before fun.”

“Are you saying kidnapping me is your duty?”

“Okay, kid, you want it straight? Here it is.” Michael glanced in his rearview mirror, but he couldn't see the boy's face was in the shadows. “You've been working hard to get into trouble for some time now. I don't know why I care, but I do.”

“Stop it, Deputy.” Anthony groaned. “I'm gonna be sick.”

“Yeah, I guess it does sound like a scene in a bad movie.” Michael gave a short laugh.

“All we need is some sappy music.” Anthony crumpled up the hamburger wrapper and bounced it between his hands. “How come you decide to pick on me instead of some of the other kids out at school?”

“Don't know the answer to that. Miss Keane says it's because I think we're alike.” Michael gripped the steering wheel and stared out at the road.

“Me and you alike?” The boy snorted. “That's a joke.”

“Yeah, a real laugher. But whatever the reason, here we are.”

“But I need to get my car and go on home. Aunt Vera wants me to mow the yard tomorrow.”

“Your car will be fine in the parking lot. And your aunt was fine with you staying with me tonight.”

“I'll bet,” Anthony said under his breath.

“Things work out, you can go home tomorrow.” Michael kept his voice casual. “But tonight, like it or not, you're stuck with me. I aim to make sure you're alive to mow that yard.”

“You think somebody wants to do me in?” Anthony sounded surprised.

“I don't know. I hope not, but I didn't think somebody would kill Joe either.”

Anthony was quiet for a long minute as they turned down the lane leading to Michael's house. When he did finally speak, his voice had lost the cockiness. “So you think my father would kill me if it came to that.”

The words settled in the air between them.

“Your father?” Michael peered over his shoulder at Anthony, but could only see his shape in the backseat out here away from the town lights.

“Who else would want to make sure that Rayburn didn't tell whatever he knew?”

Michael hesitated a minute. “Do you know who that is?”

“Nope. Aunt Vera says she doesn't know, but when she gets mad at me, she talks bad about Mama. Says she had lots of boyfriends.”

“She shouldn't have told you that.”

“Why not? I thought you were all about telling the truth.” Anthony laughed, his cockiness back. “You know you're
fighting one losing battle trying to keep me straight. A mother like that and a murderer for a father.”

“Whatever else your mother did, she loved you.”

“Maybe, but not my daddy. I think we can be pretty sure about that. Especially if you think he's trying to get rid of me. Permanently.” Anthony tried to sound tough, but he wasn't completely successful.

Michael concentrated on dodging the chugholes in the lane and kept quiet. He couldn't think of much to say.

After a minute, Anthony asked, “What happened to your folks, Deputy?”

“They were killed in a car wreck.”

“I remember your mother. She was nice. She used to come and take me to Sunday school. Always gave me chewing gum.” Anthony sounded like he might actually be smiling. Then his voice changed. “She never came after Mama left.”

“That's when the wreck happened. That same year your mother disappeared.”

“You mean the same year my mother was murdered.”

“We don't know she was murdered.”

“You don't know, but sounds like that Rayburn guy knew. Else why would he be dead?”

Michael let the question hang in the air without answering it.

Anthony didn't seem to care. After a moment, he asked, “Your folks didn't drive into the lake too, did they?”

“No, there was another car. My father swerved off the road and hit a tree.” Michael stared out at the dark roadway and remembered how his eyes had jerked open when his mother screamed. The lights were coming straight toward them. “My parents were killed instantly.”

“The people in the other car get killed too?”

“The other car didn't stop. Probably a drunk driver.”

“So you say that happened the same year Mama disappeared?” Anthony fell silent for a moment. “Think that's kind of weird?”

The question surprised Michael. “Why?”

“Just seems odd you losing your parents and me losing my mother at about the same time.” Anthony leaned up toward the front seat again. “When was the wreck?”

“Toward the end of June. The twenty-fifth.”

“Mom disappeared—I guess I should say was killed—in June too. A couple of weeks after school was out.” Anthony ran his fingers up and down the wire grille between the seats. “I was five. So you had to be sixteen or seventeen at least.”

“Fifteen,” Michael said.

“So what do you remember about Mama being gone?”

“I was away at camp most of June before the accident.”

“Are you sure it was an accident?” Anthony sat back.

“What are you getting at, kid?” Michael glanced up at the rearview mirror, but it was too dark to see Anthony's face. He considered flipping on the overhead light, but he didn't. Sometimes talk was easier in the dark.

“Oh, I don't know. Just that everybody thought my mother ran off, but she didn't. So maybe whoever ran your folks off the road aimed for it to happen. Who knows? Maybe your daddy was my daddy and we're brothers or something.”

“That would shoot down your theory that your father is the murderer. Since my father died in the accident.” Michael gave up on seeing Anthony's face.