The Homeplace: A Mystery (14 page)

By one o’clock he’d scheduled interviews with teachers and the principal, and written a script of questions for Kendall’s people to ask students who were friends of Jimmy’s.

The white-haired man never undid the top button of his frayed blue oxford shirt, never uttered a cuss word, and kept his reading glasses on a string around his neck. He didn’t wear a gun, and when Kendall asked if he wanted to see the crime scenes, Doyle told him he wasn’t that kind of cop.

Kendall liked that. Little chance that Doyle would be doing TV interviews with Jody Rose.

The thing that Kendall liked most about Doyle was that he wanted to talk to Chase Ford.

Kendall stepped into Doyle’s office. The agent had kicked his shoes off. Threadbare socks rested on the table in front of him. His laptop sat across his knees, reading glasses hung on the end of his nose, and there was a Diet Coke in his hand.

Doyle waved with the Coke. “You should see this. First report on the Riley boy from the ME.”

The printer on the table whined to life and spit half a dozen pages into the tray. Kendall picked them up and began to read.

“Go to page four. About halfway down,” Doyle said. “See what it says?”

Kendall found the spot and read slowly. He raised his face and looked at Doyle. “Nothing new here.”

“Go on, read.”

Kendall looked back at the page. He skimmed a few words and then read the next out loud: “Evidence of recent sexual activity.”

“That means what your deputy said about Ford seeing Riley at midnight with a girl…”

“… was the truth,” Kendall said, finishing the sentence.

Doyle took a sip from the can. “I suggest you find that girl.” He let the carbonation sizzle on his tongue. “Any word on when I’ll get to speak to Mr. Ford?”

“He’s supposed to be on his way now.”

“Good,” Doyle said. “And, Sheriff, if you look a little farther down in the report you’ll see something else about the boy. Ford wasn’t lying. ME found traces of lipstick on the boy’s neck and…” Doyle paused. “Read it for yourself. There was lipstick found other places on the body.”

*   *   *

Mercy finished putting pots, pans, and dishes in the washer, pulled off her rubber gloves, and ran her fingers through her hair.

Busy day.

Every table had been full with customers waiting since the churches let out. It was as if Saylor’s Café became a refuge from the tragedy that had visited their community. Farmers and ranchers who lived in houses miles apart huddled close together around cramped tables in the little café. The conversations were quiet, and two names could be heard whispered again and again:
Jimmy, Coach.
Comfort on this Sunday came from fried chicken and meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans and hot peach cobbler, not their pastor’s prayers. Mercy would have never thought that murder would be good for business.

Should have come in today, Dolly. Tips would have been good.

“Hector, is that carry-out order for the sheriff ready?” Mercy called to the cook.

“Packin’ it up right now,
señora.
”

“I’ll drive it to the school myself,” Mercy said. “I need to get away from here for a few minutes.” She stepped into the office, took her coat from a hook behind the door, and checked her lipstick in the mirror. “Don’t put the food in the trunk. Just set it on the backseat. And, Diana,” she called as she went out the back door, “add rubber gloves to the Sam’s Club list, we’re almost out.”

*   *   *

Kendall shut the door behind him and sat down on the edge of a table in Doyle’s office. “I told that TV newswoman that we’re trying to locate Jimmy’s girlfriend.”

Doyle turned in his chair and peered over the top of his reading glasses. “I suggested that you only provide written statements at this stage of the investigation.”

“The word’s out all over town. I had the office send out a written notice. The reporter was here in Brandon, so I told her.”

“You might not want to do that. It will appear you’re playing favorites.”

I am playing favorites. I do something for her. She’ll do something for me. It’s called politics, Doyle.
Kendall mumbled, “I’m not used to this. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
Like hell
.

Doyle turned back to his laptop. “Anything on the search for the old man?”

“Nothing yet. I took your advice. Fort Carson is sending two helicopters to help. They should be in the air by now. Your man knows and has sent the GPS coordinates. I’ve got everyone we can spare on the ground.”

There was a rap on the door. The door swung in. “Sheriff, you need to hear this.” A high school kid stood in the opening with one of Kendall’s deputies behind him. “Tell the sheriff what you just told me, Allen. Just leave out all the f-bombs this time around.”

The kid looked down at the top of his scuffed boots. His Wrangler jeans were faded and torn at the knees. He had on a bright red T-shirt under his Carhartt work coat. His shirt had the name of some music group or computer game Kendall didn’t know anything about stenciled on the front. But it was the Nike cap on his head that made Kendall bite his tongue. It was brand new, and instead of curving the brim to keep the sun out of his eyes, Allen had left the bill of the cap flat with a shiny sticker still stuck to the top, and he’d cocked the hat a quarter turn. The farm kid was trying to show he was just as cool as some ghetto gangbanger.

“Go ahead. Tell the sheriff what you told me.” The deputy pushed Allen into the room and pulled the door closed behind them both.

The kid shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t I have the right to remain silent?”

“Nobody accused you of a crime. We’re just gathering information.” The deputy nudged Allen again.

“Shouldn’t my parents be here?”

“A few minutes ago, you were real proud that you just turned eighteen, but I can call your mama. She’ll be happy to hear about the drugs and drinkin’.”

Allen looked at Kendall. And then at Doyle.

Kendall hooked his thumbs in his gun belt. “Take off that damn hat, or I’ll take it off ya. Now start talkin’, kid. I don’t have all day.”

Allen snapped off the cap and hid it behind his leg. “Like I told him. Everybody knows Ray-Ray Jackson grows pot out on his place.”

Kendall’s eyes shot Doyle’s way. If the state man cared that Ray-Ray was growing pot, he didn’t show it. “Go on, Allen,” Kendall said.

*   *   *

“Me and a couple of other guys”—Allen glanced up from the floor—“I don’t hafta say who, do I?”

“No. Get to it.” Kendall tapped his trigger finger on his belt buckle.

Allen looked back at the floor. “Anyway, we went out there to see if he’d sell us any. It wasn’t my idea. I just went along.”

“And?”

“Ray-Ray went all ape shit on us. Pulled a pistol out from under his shirt and started wavin’ it around. Hollerin’ for us to leave him alone. So we got out of there.”

“What’s this got to do with anythin’?”

“There’s more. We went there in … like August. A couple weeks later, just before school started … on this Friday, there was a party out at the Butt Notch. You know, next to Ray-Ray’s.”

Kendall nodded. “Get on with it. I’m not hearin’ anythin’ here.”

“Okay, okay. The party was goin’ good. Somebody brought a keg. And you know … stuff.”

“Drugs?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t bring ’em.”

“Get to it.”

“It was late. It was real hot. You know there were all these mosquitoes because of the weeds and shit in the Notch. So we kinda like moved the party onto Ray-Ray’s. Somebody cut his fence so we could drive out there. Wasn’t me, though.” Allen took a step back. “Somebody turned up the music and maybe built a fire. You know, we were just hangin’. Everybody was there. All of a sudden Ray-Ray came barrelin’ over the hill in his old truck. He jumped out hollerin’ like he was crazy. Shitfire, he pulled out his shotgun. People were scared like he was gonna shoot us all.” He looked at the sheriff. “You should do somethin’ about him.”

Kendall narrowed his eyes. “Keep goin’.”

“Ray-Ray was wavin’ the gun around. Girls were cryin’. Then, Jimmy Riley, he tried to play peacemaker or somethin’. He tried to talk to Ray-Ray. I thought he was gonna get killed. Ray-Ray just screamed louder. Then Jimmy sorta settled him down. And we all left. I mean fast, we got out of there. And as we were leavin’, I think about then Ray-Ray saw the cut fence. He yelled real loud, ‘I’ll kill you all.’ He pointed the gun at Jimmy’s belly, and his eyes went all crazy. Like he blamed him or somethin’. He said somethin’ to Jimmy I couldn’t hear. That’s all I know, and we hauled ass out of there.”

Kendall looked at Doyle.

“Tell me a couple of things,” the agent said to Allen. “Jimmy Riley? Was he one of the ones who went to try to buy the drugs with you?”

“No, sir. Jimmy don’t hardly drink or nothin’. He thinks basketball is gonna get him a scholarship. He wants to be like Chase Ford. You know, play in the NBA.” He looked away. “I guess he won’t now.” Allen exhaled, and his shoulders dropped. “Can I go?”

“A last question. Who supplied the beer?” Doyle flicked his glasses off his nose. They swung back and forth from the string.

“Jeez, I don’t want to say.”

“Call his mama, deputy,” Kendall said.

“Don’t do that. It was Cecil. Over at Town Pump. The dumbass thinks if he buys for us, we’ll think he’s cool or somethin’.”

“Was he at the party?”

“Hey, you said one more question.”

Kendall stood up. “Was Cecil at the party?”

“Okay, yeah. That’s the deal. He buys, and he gets to come. He likes lookin’ at the girls.” Allen blew out a breath. “It was almost funny, I thought he was gonna shit himself when Ray-Ray showed up with the gun. Now, can I go?”

Kendall looked at his deputy. “First, Allen’s gonna write us a list of everyone who was at the party.”

“Hey. They’ll all think I’m a snitch.”

“Your friend’s dead, kid.”

“Yeah, okay. Just tell everybody you heard about this somewhere else. Don’t use my name.” Allen bit his lip. “Please.”

Kendall pointed to the door. “Take him out, Deputy, and give him a piece of paper and a pencil.”

The kid lifted his hat to put it on his head, looked at the sheriff, and put it back down.

When they had left, Kendall turned to Doyle. “What you make of that?”

“Too early to tell.” Doyle took a drink from a new can of Diet Coke. He leaned back in his chair and opened his lips. Kendall could hear the bubbles fizz in the agent’s mouth. “I suggest you find Ray-Ray so we can talk with him. And when can we expect Mr. Ford? I’m anxious to ask him a few questions also.”

Kendall started for the door when Doyle spoke again. “And, sheriff, this girl, Dolly Benavidez. As far as we can tell, there have been no posts on her Facebook page since Friday. No cell phone activity, either.”

*   *   *

Two people had been killed, and Pop Weber was still missing. No one had seen Ray-Ray in two days, Chase Ford hadn’t come to town yet, and he’d spilled the beans to Jody Rose about the black-haired Hispanic gal Jimmy had been dating. Kendall guessed that Doyle wasn’t real impressed with his police work.

*   *   *

Mercy heard footsteps on the gravel parking lot. She looked up from the back door of her Lincoln.

“You’re Mercy Saylor, aren’t you?” Jody hustled from the TV van. “I recognize you. My cameraman and I had a quick breakfast at your café this morning.” She stuck out her hand. “Jody Rose. KBBW TV Colorado Springs.” She smiled.

“We served a lot of people today. Forgive me if I don’t remember.”

“No trouble.” She looked down at the boxes of food on the backseat. “Need help?”

“Sure, if you want. The sheriff ordered food for those who are, you know, helpin’ with the investigation. If this whole thing wasn’t so bad it might be excitin’.” Mercy lifted a box and handed it to Jody.

“You know, I heard something about your restaurant I’d like to ask you about. I might be able to use it in a story.”

“What’s that?”

“Is it true your mother shot a man trying to rob your restaurant?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Cecil at Town…”

“… Pump,” Mercy finished. “Cecil has most of it right for a change.”

“Fill me in. It might make a good human interest thing, while everyone is waiting to find out about the murders.”

The two walked to the school with their boxes. “I think I was only six or seven, so most of what I know is what I was told,” Mercy said. “Mom was there at the café one night when this guy came in, pulled a knife, and demanded money. Mom kept a pistol on a shelf under the cash register. She grabbed it and waved it at the guy. He ran out. Mom followed him and shot a hole in the back window of his truck. That’s how they identified him when he got pulled over in Comanche Springs. I think I have the newspaper story in a file cabinet back at the restaurant if you want to see it.”

“I’d like that. Did your mom get in trouble for shooting?”

“Things were different back then. Sheriff Kendall’s father was the sheriff, and he thought she’d done the right thing. The bullet hole is how they knew they caught the right man.” Mercy laughed. “That pistol’s still under the counter.”

“Is it covered with dust and rust?”

Mercy winked. “Not at all.”

“Great story.” Jody opened the door to the school. “Could I ask another favor? Cecil tells me you know Chase Ford. I’d like to meet him.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chase promised Marty that he would go to town and meet with Kendall and the agent from the Colorado Bureau of Investigation.

A dozen law enforcement officers scoured both sides of the road along Sandy Creek looking for any sign of Pop Weber. Marty let Chase know that two helicopters were on the way from the army base in Colorado Springs to help with the search, and a National Guard unit from La Junta would be there by nightfall. He told Chase that Kendall would be impatient and for Chase to get in his truck and go.

Chase agreed. But he didn’t tell Marty that he was going to drive out to Bobby Jackson’s first. He didn’t know what he’d find at Bobby’s, but if Ray-Ray had something to do with all this like Kendall seemed to think, Chase wanted to talk to the Jackson brothers.