The Homeplace: A Mystery (13 page)

The sheriff rubbed his face with the back of his hand. “Who called it in?”

“It was…” Arlene hesitated. “Chase Ford, Sheriff.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dawn’s first sunbeams filtered over the prairie and stirred Ray-Ray from his rest. He woke hungry, planning to get to his farmhouse and cook up a big breakfast. Caution persuaded his stomach to go slow, and that’s when he spotted the dome light in Birdie Hawkins’s pickup. Just a blink of bright in the gray, fading night. She’d parked on the road near his gate and was sneaking out on a high roll of ground so she could see his house.

He watched as she put her binoculars to her eyes and studied his place. Smart woman, she was. Others would have blundered in and got the dog all riled and caused the guinea hens to kick up a ruckus. But Birdie just sat out there and watched. She just wasn’t smart enough to look about a half mile back to the west. That’s where she would have seen him, belly down on a high spot watching her with his binoculars. If she were listening real close she might even have heard his stomach growl. It was that quiet.

His homegrown mellowed a man out just fine, and sleep came easy, but it made one awful hungry.

Going back to his house wouldn’t be wise, so as soon as Birdie went to her truck and headed off toward Comanche Springs, Ray-Ray lit his can of Sterno and fried up fresh deer liver and what onions he had left. Between mouthfuls and gulps of water from his canteen, he planned what to do next.

Ray-Ray followed the creek bottom back to the fence line that divided his ground from the Butt Notch, hopped the fence, and worked his way through the gnarliest of the brush and tamarack until he found Sandy Creek on the other side. He could follow the creek to his brother’s. It would take him until noon to get there, and if anyone saw him they’d think he was just a hunter.

He’d borrow a truck and get out of the county for a while. Ray-Ray had friends who thought his way across the Kansas state line. They’d hide him for a while. If need be, there were others of his mindset in places like Idaho and the hills of Arkansas, and if things stayed bad he’d always wanted to see Alaska.

There were a few folks like him still left in the world. Those who didn’t need to hear some mush-head say you had to wear a helmet when you rode your Harley, or what kind of lightbulb to buy, or how much you had to pay a man for an hour’s work. Men should decide those things for themselves and be responsible for their choices, he thought. If two disagree, let them work out their squabble between themselves. If they can’t talk it out, they should use their fists. If fists don’t settle things, that’s why God created guns.

He’d said as much to that little pecker whose buffalo broke down his fences and to the high school kids who left their beer bottles and trash in his fields. No one understood about respect and liberty.

Ray-Ray’s anger boiled hotter with every step he took until he stopped and raised his rifle over his head with both hands and bellowed out his creed.

“Leave me alone.”

*   *   *

“Wait for the truck.” Jody Rose cupped one hand over her head and lifted a sheet of paper with the other. Wind from the passing semi rattled the paper and teased the tips of her long blond hair. She studied her notes, committing the thoughts to memory.

The speeding truck followed the four lanes of blacktop away from Brandon. As Jody ran her fingers through her thick mane each strand of hair fell back in place. “How’s the makeup look?” she asked the man with the camera, and pursed her lips.

He made an “okay” sign with his thumb and fingers.

Jody shut her eyes and ran her tongue over her lips and teeth. “Tell me when.”

“Okay.” The cameraman started.

Focus, Jody. This could be the one. My agent will get a demo out, and the networks will be calling.

The cameraman nodded, and the light on his camera blinked on.

Jody pressed her pretty face into perfect, practiced concern. “The same theme begins every conversation in this small town,” she said in the most professional voice she could muster. “In hushed tones, citizens of Brandon tell each other, ‘Things like this don’t happen here.’ You hear it again and again. While buying supplies at Murphy’s Feed Store, filling the truck at Town Pump, and talking over coffee and pie at Saylor’s Café. ‘Murders don’t happen in Brandon.’”

The reporter tilted the top of her head ever so slightly. “But two people are dead. And this town that still celebrates their 1992 high school basketball championship now mourns the death of a beloved coach and this year’s star player. Both were killed Friday night. Sources tell this reporter a third person has gone missing.” She straightened her head and looked directly into the camera. “Is there a serial killer on the Colorado Plains? This is Jody Rose reporting.”

“Got it, Jody. Good job. Now I’m getting cold. Let’s get out of here.”

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and checked to see if there was a message from the sheriff about the third victim. She’s made him promise he’d let her know.

Nothing yet.

She looked back at the man with the camera. “No.” Jody gritted her teeth. “I want this to be perfect. We’ll shoot it again.”

*   *   *

By the time Marty, Paco, two county deputies, and four state troopers arrived at Pop Weber’s truck, Chase had walked half-mile loops on both sides of the road looking for any sign. But the hard-baked prairie ground had no secrets to share, and tracks around the truck made it seem that Pop had just disappeared. Wherever he had gone, he was hurt. The blood on the car seat showed that.

Chase told Marty and the others what little he could and pointed out where he had searched. He didn’t tell them he’d taken pictures of the truck, bloodstain, and tracks with his cell phone.

“Look, Chase,” Marty said as the other lawmen spread out to look for Pop. “Kendall wants you to meet him in Brandon. They’re settin’ up a command post at the high school to coordinate the investigation into the deaths.”

“Murders, Marty,” Chase said. “Coach and Jimmy were murdered.” He swallowed. “Maybe Pop.”

“I know.” Marty face twisted with worry. “But listen to me. I told Kendall and the head cop from the state what you told me about seeing Jimmy and Dolly at your place Friday night, and they want to talk to you.”

Chase rocked back on his heels. “Kendall thinks I have something to do with this?”

“No.” Marty looked away. “I don’t know what to think, Chase. The guy from the state brought up your trouble with Billee, and you know how Kendall can be. One little thing can set him off and he won’t let it go, no matter how hard it bites at him. And you know the sheriff.” Marty scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt. “He’s never liked you at all.”

“This isn’t a schoolboy’s basketball game, Marty.”

“I know. But there’s one thing about Kendall for sure. He don’t forget.”

*   *   *

Cecil watched the reporter from the Springs TV station go through her little act for the sixth time. Not that he minded.

She’d asked permission to set up in the lot just out past the diesel pumps. She told him that spot would give a good perspective of the town. The camera could see the water tower, Main Street, the high school, and the cars in the parking lot at the Methodist church. She even promised him the Town Pump sign would be in the shot. He’d let her think he was the manager.

The stool he perched on behind the cash register had to be kicked six inches closer to the front door so he could watch her over the Doritos display. It made it harder to reach the register, but it was worth it. Jody Rose was quite a package.

She couldn’t be but barely five foot tall and weighed maybe ninety pounds. But each one of those pounds had been placed on her in just the right spots. Her back was to him, and in those tight black pants she had one fine pooper.

Jody pumped her fist and dropped the microphone to her side. The guy with camera let out a whoop Cecil could hear through the closed doors of the convenience store. Jody plucked a cell phone from the pocket of her ski jacket, looked it over, and tucked the phone away, and then both she and cameraman started toward the store. Now he’d get another look at the front side of her. He hoped she’d unzip that winter coat.

Cecil had two cups of coffee on the counter when they came through the door. He smiled and nodded. “They’re on me.” Like he ever paid for coffee. “Sugar and cream are over there.”

The cameraman went off to use the restroom and left Jody alone with Cecil.

“Like a doughnut to go with your coffee?” He pointed at the tired Krispy Kremes that had been delivered on Thursday.

Jody shook her head. “But you could help me.” She pulled down the zipper of her parka about halfway.

Cecil leaned forward. “Sure can. I know a lot of what goes on here.”

“You know why I’m here in Brandon?”

He liked the way she smiled when she looked at him. “Yes, ma’am. I figured that one out. Murders, right?”

“Did you know either of the victims?” She sipped her coffee and looked up at Cecil with big blue eyes.

“Good friends with both of ’em.” Cecil lifted his Town Pump ball cap and smoothed the few strands of hair still left on the top of his head.

“You were good friends with a high school boy?”

Cecil had to think fast. “Sure I was. Coach would have me help some of his boys”—he thought for a second—“uh, with their, uh—what you call it, uh, free throws. Yeah, free throws. On account of I was real good at them when I played for him.”

“You played on the school team here?”

“Sure I did.” He stretched up all five foot seven of him.

“Oh, were you on the team that won the championship?” Jody set her coffee cup down, propped both elbows on the counter, and rested her chin in her hands. She was as pretty as the girls in his magazines. Even with clothes on.

“What’d you say?”

“The championship team. When was it? 1992?”

Cecil thought a second. He hadn’t been on the team. He hadn’t even lived in Brandon back then. And he dropped out of high school halfway through his junior year. But he was in too deep now.

There was probably a way she could check to see if he was on the team. He plucked at a whiskery hair anchored to his earlobe while he thought. “Naw, that was after I graduated.” It was all he could think of. “But I knew those boys. I even helped Chase Ford learn to shoot his free throws. Coach asked me to help him on account of I was so good.”

Jody stood. “Chase Ford, the basketball player? The one who was just divorced from that country singer, Billee Kidd?”

“That’s him. He grew up not five miles from here. Out near my ranch.” Sometimes Cecil just couldn’t stop the lies. “He was damned good. Played for the Los Angeles Lakers before he got hurt. I taught him to shoot free throws, you know.”

Cecil could tell Jody wasn’t paying attention to him. She was thinking real hard. He had to get her back.

“Let me tell you somethin’.” He looked around. There weren’t any cars at the pumps, and the cameraman wasn’t back from the crapper. “That boy that was killed…”

Jody whispered, “Jimmy Riley?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He took a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos from the rack on the counter, opened it, and offered one to Jody. She shook her head. He stuffed two in his mouth and crunched down. “Jimmy’s girlfriend is Chase Ford’s half-sister. And he’s here in town.”

“Ford’s here in Brandon?”

“He is.” He had her attention now.

“Tell me more.”

Cecil grinned. He’d have to be careful. Sometimes he said too much. He popped two more Flamin’ Hot Cheetos into his mouth and began, “Seems Chase’s mother got hurt real bad in this car accident. His daddy hired a pretty little Mexican girl to keep house.…”

*   *   *

Jody stepped out into the cool fresh breeze and away from the smell of stale coffee, bad breath, and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. She felt as if she needed a shower to wash away all of that vile man’s leers. She took her cell phone and dialed Colorado Springs.

“Hey, Rhonda, need some help here. Find everything you can on Chase Ford.”

“Chase Ford, the basketball player?” Rhonda asked through the crackle of the cell phone.

“Yeah, that Chase Ford. He’s from this little town, Brandon or whatever. And he’s here now.”

“What are you thinking, girl?”

“I’m going try for an interview.”

“He hasn’t talked with anyone since that country singer divorced him.”

“He’ll talk to me.” Jody’s cell phone vibrated with an incoming text message. “Listen, I got to go. Get that to me as soon as you can.”

She cradled the phone in her hands and looked at the screen.

Possible 3rd vic Alfred “Pop” Weber

Old farmer—more when I get it

The sheriff had kept his word. Now she owed him.

She pulled up the zipper on her jacket and turned to the window of the store. The gross little man was still staring at her.

As much as she hated to think it, Jody had to stay close to Cecil. She fluffed the ends of her hair and smiled at him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sheriff Kendall needed a man like Jim Doyle. He’d met the Colorado Bureau of Investigation agent at a law enforcement conference in Estes Park the year Kendall took office. Doyle’s credentials were some of the best. He’d led teams that had solved crimes all across the state. Murder investigations were his specialty. When it came to solving multiple murders, there was none in the state better.

But what Kendall liked about the man was that in almost thirty years, Jim Doyle had never once sought recognition for himself. Solving the crime and seeing justice done was all that mattered to him. With eleven months until he could begin drawing a nice, fat state pension, Kendall didn’t think Doyle would change his ways. All Kendall needed to do was stay close, follow Doyle’s lead, and take the credit when this thing was over.

It was Doyle’s idea to use the high school in Brandon as a command post. Tables were set up in the gymnasium, and Doyle put the county office staff to work entering information from the evidence that had been gathered into a database. He took over one classroom as his office and had whiteboards brought in. He labeled each board with the name of one of the victims and made notes in neat block letters across the board. He’d even color-coded the notes, and when he explained his method to Kendall, the sheriff had just nodded.