Murder Welcomes You to Buxley

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Murder Welcomes You to Buxley Page 2

by Maddie Cochere


  “Has Johnny graduated yet?” I asked.

  Tears came to the surface again. “No. He’s supposed to graduate this May.”

  “Do you know if he’s been going to school?”

  She shook her head again. “He hasn’t. I call the school every day, and they tell me he’s not in attendance.”

  “Does he have a car?”

  “No. He uses mine when he goes out. I was going to buy him one at graduation.” Her voice trailed off.

  “Ok, Mrs. Wyler,” I said. “I’ll ask around and see what I can find out.”

  “Please, Jo, call me Dana.” She seemed embarrassed by her next question. “What do you charge for something like this?”

  Her husband had died in a car accident several years ago. There was talk of life insurance, but I had no idea how much she had received. She didn’t appear to live beyond her means, and for all I knew, the money could have been set aside for college for Johnny.

  “Twenty-five dollars a day will cover my investigation and expenses,” I told her.

  She appeared relieved. I knew I should have charged her more, but it didn’t feel right charging a neighbor my full rate.

  I took names and telephone numbers of Johnny’s friends and his most recent girlfriend, Stacy. After promising her I would do my best, I hurried back home to spend another hour with Columbo.

  Since then, I hadn’t been able to find out anything about Johnny. His friends all said the same thing – he stopped wanting to do anything with them about two months ago. He didn’t give them any reason other than to say he was busy.

  The board was uncomfortably bare. I had checked in with Dana a few times, and I knew I should call her today with some type of report, but I had absolutely nothing new to tell her.

  I swiveled around in my chair to check email on my computer. Most of the messages were spam and referenced larger body parts. Several were from Mama about bowling tonight. I knew it was a lost cause to try to get out of it, and I’d never hear the end of it if I simply didn’t show up.

  I jotted Curt Hendershot’s telephone numbers in the small notebook I carried in my purse before taping his card to the board. Under the card, I listed the information he had provided about his car. This was going to be another dead end case. I didn’t know the first thing about finding a stolen car. And it was stolen in Patterson. I didn’t want to drive all over the city looking for a Friend of Buxley Police sticker in a back window.

  I went downstairs for another cup of coffee, but I was restless and cranky. I didn’t feel like going to the flea market to check in with Arnie, and I certainly didn’t feel like talking to Mama when she showed up with a shirt and a diaper. I bundled up and hurried across the cul-de-sac to Pepper’s.

  Before I could ring the bell, Keith jerked the door open. “Come on in and look at what I’m making.” He turned and ran back to the dining room, yelling up the stairs as he went, “Mom! Aunt Jo’s here!”

  The kitchen was an explosion of dirty dishes, plates with half-eaten pancakes, syrup spilled on the counter, melted butter in a cup, and bowls with batter in the sink. Pepper was usually meticulous about keeping things cleaned up while she cooked, so I knew something was up.

  Kelly and Keith were in the dining room with large sheets of white paper spread out on the table. Atop the paper, they were making objects from colorful clay. Kelly had five small mice holding red hearts lined up before her. She was working on a sixth. I picked one up and looked it over.

  “These are really cute,” I told her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m making them for our Valentine’s Day party on Sunday. Is Glenn coming with you?”

  “He’ll be here,” I said.

  Her face brightened, and she smiled. “Good. I like him. He’s the best guy you’ve dated yet.”

  “I think so, too,” I said.

  I couldn’t help smiling. Glenn and I were finally past the awkward stage of first dates, and I had finally put to rest the notion that he was too young for me. Every now and then, I had a brief vision of babysitting him when he was eleven and I was sixteen, and occasionally he would say or do something that reminded me of our age difference, but I had finally committed to the relationship, and it was going well.

  Keith was only working on one thing, and right now, it resembled a part of the male anatomy. The two knobs at the bottom were suspect. He had a big smile on his face when he held it up for me to see. I was afraid to comment or react.

  Pepper came down the stairs. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be out and about?”

  “Mama’s on her way over to drop off a bowling shirt. I’m trying to avoid her.” I gave her my best evil eye. “Why aren’t you subbing for Lucille tonight? You love to bowl, and you could have taken the kids. They would have had fun.”

  “I have a Sally Lou party tonight. There’ll be at least fifteen people, so I’ll make more money than usual.”

  I thought about the five one-hundred dollar bills Curt had given to me. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars to cancel the party and bowl with Mama.”

  “I’m not canceling, Jo. I’ll make more than that on commissions, and I should be able to book another three or four parties from this one. I think my career as a cosmetics consultant is finally taking off.”

  I frowned. I was happy for Pepper, but the more successful she became, the less time she would have to help with my investigations. I didn’t relish the thought of driving around Patterson looking for Curt’s car without another set of eyes helping – or at least someone to keep me company.

  “Who’s staying with the kids?” I asked.

  “Dana’s coming over. With Johnny gone, she’s upset and alone. The kids will keep her company, and she can keep an eye on them for me.

  I resigned myself to bowling. One night wouldn’t kill me. I pointed to Keith’s clay object and asked Pepper, “Are you combining art class with health class?”

  “Keith!” she yelped. “What are you making?”

  He held the object up again. One of the balls fell off.

  “It’s a rocket,” he exclaimed proudly.

  Pepper’s face took on the frazzled expression I had come to know well since she began homeschooling this school year. Both kids had birthdays last month. Kelly was now eleven, and Keith was nine. I knew Pepper was doing a good job of teaching them, but the kids ran her ragged at times.

  “What’s up with the kitchen?” I asked.

  Pepper rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Home Economics. They worked together to make pancakes.”

  The front door opened and Mama strolled in. “What’s going on in here?”

  Pepper went over to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Nothing, Mama. The kids are having art class, and Jo came over to clean up my kitchen.”

  “I did not,” I said. “I have a new case. I’m on my way to Patterson this morning.”

  “Can I come?” Keith asked. “I promise I won’t be any trouble. I can help you.”

  I thought about it for a minute. He would at least be some company. “Sure,” I said.

  Keith looked to his mom for approval.

  “Are you going to any strip clubs or bars?” Pepper asked.

  “It’s a stolen car case. I’m headed over to the new Patterson Plaza. If I have to go into any bars, they’ll be nice.”

  “Please, Mom,” Keith begged. “I want to be a private investigator, too.”

  She thought for a few moments before saying, “If you go, you have to take your book, and you have to read a chapter while you’re gone.”

  “What are they reading now?” I asked. I knew she was having them read a classic every month.

  “The Wizard of Oz. One of the vendor’s at the flea market had a stack of paperback copies for fifty cents each, so I grabbed one for each of us.”

  “I like the scarecrow,” Mama said. “It’s important to have a brain. Why are you making them read that? They’ve seen it on the TV a million times.”

  “The book is di
fferent than the movie,” Kelly said. “It’s good.”

  “Yeah,” Keith said. “The tin man chops off the heads of forty wolves.” He made slicing and chopping motions in the air. “It’s cool.”

  “Fifty cents, huh?” Mama asked. “We need a new book for our book club. If we start reading today, we can discuss tomorrow.” She grabbed an apron, tied it around her waist, and began cleaning up the kitchen.

  “So, I can go?” Keith asked again.

  Pepper looked somewhat defeated, and I realized I had derailed her school day. “Go get your book. You can go.”

  “Yay,” he yelled. “Don’t throw my rocket away. I’ll finish it tonight.”

  “A rocket?” Mama called from the kitchen. “I thought you were making a winky-wonker. Jo, don’t be late tonight. You have to be at the alley before we start at seven o’clock. I put your shirt in your coat closet.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said with a sigh.

  Keith and I ran over to my house. “Let me grab my purse and an extra notebook. Do you need to use the bathroom before we go?”

  He scowled at me. “Aunt Jo, I’m nine. I don’t have to go to the bathroom before I go somewhere.”

  “Ok, don’t have a snit. I don’t know these things, and I always hear your mom tell you to go the bathroom before she takes you anywhere.”

  He spotted the diaper Mama had left on the coffee table and held it up. “What’s this?”

  “That’s your Grandmama’s idea of a joke.”

  “Can I have it?” he asked.

  There was no way I wanted to know what was in that kid’s head, so I didn’t ask any questions. “Sure. Take it.”

  His smile was huge as he folded it a few times and shoved it into his coat pocket.

  We stopped at Chummy Burgers and More on our way out of town. All I wanted was a cup of coffee. I gave Keith a twenty-dollar bill and sent him inside to get it for me. I didn’t trust the drive thru to get even the order of a lone cup of coffee right. He came out with a bag of food, a giant soda, and my cup of coffee. He handed three dollars and change to me.

  “You just had breakfast,” I said.

  “I know, but I’m not full. I got enough food to hold me over until we get back. We can put everything on your expenses like they do on television, right?”

  This kid was always trying to work an angle.

  “Yes, but I’m not putting over sixteen dollars worth of fast food on Curt Hendershot’s expenses within two hours of getting the job. If there’s a hamburger in there, I’ll take it.”

  He handed a burger to me, and I filled him in on what we would be looking for in Patterson. I finished with, “You can come in with me everywhere I go, but don’t ask questions, and don’t touch anything.”

  He shoved a handful of French fries in his mouth and mumbled, “Ok.”

  It wasn’t quite a half hour before we were pulling into the new complex. We didn’t talk much on the way over. Keith was too busy trying to eat all the food in the bag.

  I drove up and down aisles throughout the parking lot first. It wasn’t likely, but Curt could have forgotten where he parked. Or maybe someone moved his car as a practical joke.

  Keith had no idea what a Charger looked like. He was giving me whiplash from yelling, “There it is,” every few seconds.

  I finally spotted a red Charger and made him get out of the car to walk around it and take a good look. When he hopped back in, he said, “Wow! I want one of those.”

  “They’re pretty nice,” I said. “Now look for a silver one with a Friend of Buxley Police sticker in the back window.”

  It would be a long time before I could afford such a nice car. I was still driving the used LeBaron Alan had bought for me shortly after we married. It was starting to show rust, and it needed some work done on the brakes, but it was a reliable car, and I didn’t really mind driving it.

  We made a second pass through the large lot, and I concluded the silver car was definitely not here. I parked in front of The Broken Nine Iron, and we hopped out. Keith jerked the long, vertical handle of the bar’s wooden door, but it didn’t budge.

  “They don’t open until eleven o’clock,” he said, pointing to the business hours etched into a frosted glass window beside the door.

  I checked the time on my cell phone. It wasn’t quite ten yet.

  “Ok, plan B,” I said. “Get back in the car.”

  We drove around to the main entrance of the hotel. Inside, I gave my business card to the desk clerk and asked to speak with the hotel manager. A tall woman dressed smartly in a business suit came out a few minutes later.

  She looked at my card before asking, “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m investigating the theft of a car from the parking lot last night. I wanted to know if you’ve heard anything about it.”

  She shook her head, but a light in her eyes made me think she knew something. I waited to see if she was going to share. “I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything,” she said.

  “Have you heard about any other stolen cars in the area?”

  Keith grabbed my arm and whispered loudly, “Where’s the bathroom?”

  The woman smiled and pointed across the lobby. He took off at a run.

  “Cute boy,” she said. “Shouldn’t he be in school on a Monday?”

  “It’s take-your-son-to-work-day, so he’s giving me a hand.” I guided her back to my case. “Have you heard about any other stolen cars?”

  She lowered her voice. “There have been four that I know of since the plaza opened two months ago. Off the record…” She stopped short and asked, “I can talk off the record, right?”

  I smiled. People didn’t always know how to talk with a private investigator. They thought we were like attorneys, or police, or journalists. “You can tell me anything you want,” I said. “I won’t be publishing it anywhere.”

  She nodded. “I’ve talked with our head of security, and he believes there was a design flaw when the plaza was built. The parking lots are well lit in front of the hotel and the movie theater, but the spacing of the lights is different in front of the other businesses. He said there are darker areas that show shapes and movement on camera, but no clarity. If cars continue to be stolen, they’ll have to do something about it. Management has stepped up patrols, but that doesn’t help much when someone can get into a car within seconds.”

  I thanked her for her time and turned around to see Keith running toward me from the restroom. I met him halfway.

  “Aunt Jo, I need some money.”

  “Don’t call me Aunt Jo, today,” I said. “Today I’m your mother. Call me Mom, and it’s take-your-son-to-work day.”

  He laughed. “Ok, Mom. I need some money.”

  “No,” I said and headed for the front door.

  “It’s for the man in the restroom. He gave me some soap and handed me a towel, and he gave me a comb for my hair.” He held up a comb with the hotel name and logo on it. “I think I’m supposed to tip him.”

  “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” This kid was going to cost me a small fortune before the day was out.

  “You’re my mother, and you never told me,” he said with a smile.

  I handed him a couple dollars. “Hurry up.”

  When we were back in the car, I slapped my GPS on the dashboard and had it search for service garages.

  “Let’s talk to a few mechanics,” I said. “Maybe someone’s heard something on the grapevine.”

  Most of the hits were for dealerships and franchised outfits, but there were four nearby that appeared to be small repair garages.

  “Lou’s Garage, Dick’s Garage, Bender’s Service Garage, and Morton’s Garage. Which one should we try first?” I asked.

  “Let’s try Dick’s, because Dick knows.”

  “Dick knows what?”

  He laughed. “Everything. Everyone knows Dick knows. Don’t you know that?”

  “I guess not, but Dick’s it is.”
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br />   It was only a few blocks to the garage, but Keith managed to shovel in a cold burger and drink more of his giant drink. Pepper said he was eating her out of house and home. Buck was a long haul driver, and he probably had to pick up extra loads just to feed this kid.

  The garage was a dark brown steel building situated on a slight hill on a side street. Cars were parked every which way in the lot. We found a place where I thought my car wouldn’t be hit, and we went inside.

  There wasn’t an office. The entrance door opened right into the open garage. We heard a clang as if a wrench had been thrown into a tool chest. A man came around from behind a truck and walked toward us as he wiped his hands on a rag.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  I handed my card to him. “I’m Jo Ravens. Are you Dick? I’m investigating a car theft.”

  He handed the card back to me and said, “We don’t steal cars, lady.”

  I forced a smile. “No. I’m not saying you do. I just thought…” Keith cut me off before I could finish my sentence.

  “Mom, I need a bathroom.”

  I should have known he would have to go again right away. “Just wait,” I said. “We’ll find a place as soon as we leave.”

  “Mom, I’m going to be sick.”

  This wasn’t good. I knew how much food he had consumed. I looked at the man with desperation in my eyes. “Where’s your bathroom?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “The plumbing’s messed up right now, and we don’t have running water. We’re using the port-a-potty out front, but he can’t throw up in that.” He pointed to a door at the rear of the building. “Go throw up in the ditch out back.”

  Before I could protest, Keith took off at a full run for the door.

  “He’ll be all right,” the man said. “What did you want to know?”

  I knew I should run after Keith to be sure he was all right, but I didn’t want to watch him throw up.

  “I was wondering if you’ve heard anything from customers or employees. There have been several cars stolen from Patterson Plaza since it opened, and I’m trying to determine if it’s kids, professionals, or parts dealers looking to sell online. Are you hearing anything at all about stolen vehicles?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing other than what I read in the newspaper. Although, come to think of it, one of my workers said a guy was in here last week with a trunk full of small parts – alternators, batteries, boxes of hoses – stuff like that.”

 

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