Murder Welcomes You to Buxley

by Maddie Cochere

  It only took a few minutes before we spotted Mama near the back of the crowd with Aunt Bee and Milly from the beauty shop.

  She ran over and threw her arms around Roger. “Oh, Squishy, I’m sorry all your stuff is gone. Don’t you worry about a thing. You can move in with me.”

  My mouth hung open. For starters, I was disgusted that her pet name for him was Squishy. I didn’t even want to know about that. “Mama, Roger’s house didn’t burn up. He doesn’t need a place to live.”

  “Of course he does. He doesn’t want to be alone at a time like this.” She linked her arm through his and said, “You get all your things and move in tonight. You can stay as long as you like.”

  He wasn’t so angry now. As uncomfortable as their relationship made me at times, they appeared to be happy together.

  Aunt Bee pulled me aside.

  “Jo, the police won’t suspect him, but I’m telling you to keep Duck Hutton in mind. I heard there were four fires total tonight. That’s a distraction.”

  I nodded my head and turned to walk away. As I made my way back up to the fire, I couldn’t help wondering if the nursing home fire had been a distraction, too. If so, a distraction for what?

  The fire was still raging but appeared to be under control. Glenn was nowhere to be seen. I ran back across the street toward Pepper and heard her shriek, “Keith! Get down from there!’

  I couldn’t help smiling. He was standing on top of one of the ladder trucks while he watched the fire. He yelled down to her, “What? I didn’t cross the street like you said.”

  I didn’t have a chance to say anything to her before she took off running to get him down. All I could do was shake my head and laugh. That kid was a master at bending words and rules.

  Susan was more serious and asked, “Jo, did Arnie tell you what I thought about the break-in at Slimmers and what Cecelia Rorski told me?”

  Before I could comment, Glenn and Officer Collins rushed up to us.

  “Darby Tapley,” Glenn said. “Put your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest.”

  Darby looked confused as he turned around with his hands behind his back. Susan looked stunned.

  “What’s the charge,” I asked.

  Glenn looked at Darby and said, “You’re under arrest for the possession of heroin with intent to sell.”

  They whisked him away to a patrol car.

  The charge took me by surprise. From the little time I had spent with Darby, I couldn’t imagine he had anything to do with selling drugs.

  “I guess this means we’re not playing racquetball tomorrow,” I said to Susan.

  “There has to be some mistake,” she said frantically. “Darby doesn’t do drugs. He doesn’t buy or sell drugs. What do I do? Where do I go?”

  I felt sorry for her. I couldn’t imagine being in a strange town and having my only friend arrested on such a serious charge.

  “Let me see what I can find out,” I told her. “There’s nothing you can do tonight, and I promise you’ll only make things worse if you show up at the station. Go back to the hotel. I’ll give you a call in the morning and take you there myself.”

  She nodded agreement. I felt I should stay with her and comfort her, but I had work to do. I took off across the street again. Jackie was quickly by my side.

  “What happened over there? Did I see Darby in handcuffs?” she asked.

  “They charged him with possession of heroin with intent to sell. The last thing I knew, Glenn went to do a walkthrough at Rita’s place to be sure no one was inside. Darby’s staying there, so they must have found something in his room.”

  “Wow. This night just gets more and more interesting,” she said.

  “Aunt Bee thinks we should keep Duck Hutton in mind for the fires. She thinks they were a distraction.”

  “Drugs,” Jackie said. “Drug dealers aren’t running drugs into large cities as often. Shipments are going into smaller towns now where the police forces are smaller and less experienced with drug runners. If they’re stopped for any reason, the chances of a drug canine are slim.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “Aunt Bee mentioned the other day that Duck was into drugs. Maybe he’s higher up in an organization than she thought. I’m guessing his phone had something about the fire, a drug shipment, or both on it. Reggie must have seen what it was and took his phone. Susan thinks he ransacked the weight loss center looking for it, so it’s still unaccounted for.”

  “It’ll be hard to pin any of this on Duck without any hard evidence,” she said. “If the phone wasn’t in the weight loss center the night of the murder, and it wasn’t in Reggie’s purse or on her body, then it has to be somewhere. I assume the police have already searched her apartment.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Do you have any idea where we could look?”

  “Not a clue,” I said. “Any word on Walt’s condition?”

  “Mild concussion and minor smoke inhalation. He’ll be fine.”

  “Who hit him?”

  “He doesn’t know. He was sitting at the end of the counter having a cup of coffee and watching Arnie’s television. Someone hit him from behind.” She looked at her notebook and then her watch. “I have to run. I still have time to get my story in the morning paper.”

  It was after midnight, and the crowd had thinned. Firefighters would be on the scene for quite a while until the fire was out - and even longer to ensure against hot spots.

  I walked across the street yet again and sat down on a bench. I realized I hadn’t been cold all evening even though the temperature was well below freezing. Adrenaline, warm clothes, and a huge bonfire had kept the cold away. I was just now beginning to feel a chill.

  I watched the firemen for a while. Part of one brick wall still stood. I felt as if I was saying goodbye to an old friend. A wave of sadness washed over me again.

  I was surprised when Arnie sat down beside me. I hadn’t seen him all evening. We sat in silence for several minutes.

  “I’m sure gonna miss that Barcalounger,” he said.

  “What are you going to do now?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t have anything of value in there, and I took Walt’s advice and bought insurance. I’m only out some paperwork, but after I lost everything in my office fire a few years back, I’ve been keeping duplicate records at home. I’ll fare better than most.”

  We sat without speaking again. Finally, he asked, “What do you think about this, Jo? What’s your gut reaction?”

  “It has to be Duck Hutton. He’s behind the fires as a distraction – just like he was the nursing home fire. They were probably set to tie up law enforcement while large shipments of drugs were brought into the area. The only way to tie him to this is to find his phone before he does. Reggie stole it for a reason, and she was killed for the information on it.”

  He nodded his head. “You do know the police have that Darby fellow lined up to take the fall for this, don’t you?”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “Because he’s a stranger in town, and because of the heroin they found in his room. They’ll tie it all together somehow. This town won’t stand for another unsolved arson, especially the flea market, and Rorski knows it. They need someone to take the fall. I’m afraid he might be it.”

  I couldn’t believe Sergeant Rorski would deliberately make a case without being one hundred percent certain. He might be in a continual state of aggravation, but he wasn’t dishonest.

  My feet were starting to give in to the cold. It was time to call it a night.

  “Do you know that little space next to Parker’s?” Arnie asked.

  “The tobacco shop?”

  “Yeah. They’re going out of business. I’m thinking it might be a good time to work out of an office again. How would you like to work there? I’ll handle the lease for two years. After that, I’ll be retired, and you’ll be on your own.”

  That sounded fantastic. As much as I loved going into the flea market every day
, working out of an office would be more professional. Parker’s Tavern was a huge favorite in town, and having our shingle hanging next door would be just about the best free advertising we could get.

  I smiled. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll get my realtor on it tomorrow. What do you have planned?”

  “I’m taking Susan down to the station in the morning. She wants to find out what’s happening with Darby, and I’m sure she’ll want to see him. After that, I’m uncertain. I might run over to Patterson again. I really need to come up with something for Curt Hendershot or tell him it’s a lost cause. Tomorrow night might be a good time to follow George Graham again. I saw him with some woman at a hotel in Hapsburg yesterday. I should probably stick close to him now.”

  Arnie stood. “Curt’s stolen car is a waste of time. The sooner you get out from under that, the better. Lois needs something definitive one way or the other on George by Monday night, so focus your priorities on him. Are you done with the Wyler kid?”

  “Yes. He called home and told his mom he was fine.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that I planned to look into where Johnny was and what he was doing – even if Dana Wyler wasn’t paying.

  We said our goodnights, and I walked back to my car. I felt frozen as I sat there and waited for it to warm up. I should have left for home a long time ago.

  I pulled into Clark Street and was nearly to the cul-de-sac when Darby’s car passed me. There was no mistaking the red Chevelle. I had seen it around town enough to know it was his. Only Darby certainly wasn’t driving. Neither was Susan.

  Johnny Wyler was behind the wheel.

  Chapter Twelve

  “What do you mean you gave him the drugs?” Sergeant Rorski shouted.

  He was apoplectic as he continued questioning Susan. She was even more maddening to the man than I was.

  Glenn and Officer Wheeler flanked the sergeant. I stood out of the way in the corner, slightly behind them. I felt sorry for Susan. It was obvious she was terrified of Sergeant Rorski, but this was absolutely delicious to me as I watched someone else unintentionally torture the man. I couldn’t hold back my smiles. I felt terrible every time Susan caught me with a grin on my face, but I was helpless to control them.

  “I didn’t give him any drugs,” she said. “I’m trying to tell you. I gave him a coat, a paperback novel, two notebooks, and a brown bag.”

  “Then you gave him the drugs,” Sergeant Rorski bellowed.

  The sergeant was ready to explode. Someone needed to calm him down, but it wasn’t going to be me.

  Glenn must have sensed it, too, because he quickly asked, “Why did you give the brown bag to Darby?”

  “Well, I didn’t really give it to him,” she said. “I accidentally left it in his car, and when some of the ladies wanted to ride with him to lunch and the theater the next day, he took everything up to his room.”

  “Where did you get the drugs,” Sergeant Rorski shouted.

  The look on her face was as though a light bulb had gone off over her head.

  “Oh my gosh!” she yelled. “The bag had heroin in it? When I dumped it out on the bed, I only saw the tuna fish sandwich before Rita came running in about the fire.”

  Glenn asked, “Why don’t you know what was in the bag? It was your bag.”

  “No it wasn’t,” she said. “I thought you knew. Those things belonged to Reggie. I took them out of the weight loss center the night she was murdered. I was going to give them to her parents today when they came to get her body.”

  Sergeant Rorski turned a much deeper shade of purple and yelled, “You took evidence from a crime scene?”

  “Of course not,” she said indignantly. “The crime scene was out back, and you only asked for her purse. I took what was left.”

  Officer Collins mused aloud, “Why would Reggie Jones have heroin?”

  I almost laughed when Susan launched into her theory.

  “She probably stole it from Duck,” she said. “I bet he wasn’t trying to find his phone. He was trying to get his heroin back. That’s why he ransacked the center later that night after he had her murdered. He was still looking for it. He probably had something to do with the fires and the drugs coming into town last night. He might have been the guy I saw on the motorcycle racing away from the flea market right before the fire. Cecelia Rorski said he used the nursing home fire as a distraction, too.”

  The room became uncomfortably quiet.

  Sergeant Rorski reached a color and volume I had never seen or heard before when he shouted, “You talked to my mother?”

  Susan shrunk in her seat and quivered. Her voice was barely audible. “I didn’t know she was your mother.”

  Glenn quickly asked, “Why did she tell you she thought the nursing home fire was a distraction?”

  She kept her head down as she said, “She said the voices in her head told her to tell me.”

  The sergeant’s face contorted. He grabbed his arm and dropped to his knees before falling over onto his side.

  “Heart attack!” Officer Collins shouted. He grabbed the desk phone to call 911. Glenn began CPR.

  The situation was terrible. I knew it was terrible. The sergeant might already be dead on the floor, but I had a huge grin on my face. I couldn’t make it go away. My mouth hung open in disbelief, and a small laugh escaped. I had to do something quick, or I was going to go full-blown laughter any second. Susan looked at me like I was crazy.

  I moved across the room and tried not to look at her or the sergeant. It wasn’t long before emergency personnel were in the room. I grabbed Susan by the arm and said, “Come with me. We can wait in the lobby.”

  I pointed to a chair. She sat down and put her head down on her knees. I walked over to a vending machine and purchased two colas. I poked her on the shoulder with one.

  “Feeling lightheaded?” I asked.

  She sat up and said, “Our detective at home always scares me when he asks questions, but your sergeant is positively petrifying.”

  I smiled and said, “Don’t I know it.”

  “What was so funny in there,” she asked. I could tell she was irritated. “You weren’t making things any easier by making faces and smiling.”

  I couldn’t hold it back any longer, and laughter poured out. It was probably mostly a stress release, but I actually found some humor in the situation.

  “Oh, Susan, I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just that I’ve been on the receiving end of his tirades more than a few times. I always thought I was going to be the one who finally sent him over the edge to have a stroke or a heart attack. When you launched into that Duck-drug-voices-in-her-head bit, you sounded just like me, and I knew he was going to blow. I’m not surprised he had a heart attack. It’s been a long time coming.”

  She looked dumbfounded. “So, you primed him for me?”

  I couldn’t help laughing again. “I guess I did.”

  I put a lid on my laughter as the paramedics came into the lobby with the sergeant on a gurney.

  Glenn walked over to us and said, “He’s alive, and he’s conscious. Both good things. We’ll know more in a few hours.” He looked at Susan and said, “I think it’s pretty obvious your husband didn’t have anything to do with the heroin, but I can’t make that call. He might have to wait for Sergeant Rorski to be able to talk with the district attorney. It could be later today, tomorrow, or sometime next week.”

  She nodded her head.

  “Not her husband,” I said. “They’re just friends.”

  “Can I talk to you for a minute,” Glenn asked me.

  We moved across the lobby and stood near the vending machines.

  “That was one for the record books,” he said. “I’ve never seen Sarge get that mad before. Are you ok now?”

  I tried to hold back a smile. “I’m going to Hell, aren’t I? I couldn’t stop thinking how glad I was that he wasn’t yelling at me. Susan was torturing him with
her responses, and everything about their interaction was hilarious to me.”

  He smiled. “I knew what was going on in that pretty head of yours. You know, she sounded just like you.” He rubbed his hand lightly up and down my arm. “I’m looking forward to Pepper’s party on Sunday. We haven’t had much time together lately.”

  “I know. It’ll be fun.”

  “I’m on patrol tonight, but only until two in the morning. How about if I come over after work, and we’ll spend the day together tomorrow? Put your key in that fake rock of yours, and I’ll let myself in. I promise not to wake you until morning.”

  I leaned into him and said, “You better wake me when you come in.”

  He laughed and gave me a kiss before saying, “I’m going to run over to the jail to see Darby and fill him in on what’s happened. I’ll see you tonight.” He gave my arm an affectionate squeeze and turned to head back down the hallway. I walked back over to Susan and said, “Come on. I’ll run you back to the hotel.”

  “Can I see Darby?” she asked. “Can I talk to him? I want him to know he probably won’t be held long.”

  “Glenn’s going over there now. He’ll tell him.”

  I knew she wanted to see her friend, but I wanted to look in on George Graham as soon as possible. If she still wanted to see Darby after I dropped her back at the hotel, she could drive herself out to the jail.

  We were quiet on the drive to the hotel. I contemplated telling her about Johnny Wyler driving Darby’s car last night, but there was nothing she could do about it, and it would only upset her. She’d been traumatized enough in the past twenty-four hours, so I decided to keep it to myself.

  With Susan safely deposited at the hotel, I swung by Chummy’s drive thru. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten, and I was famished. I pulled up to the broken-down speaker and could barely make out the words of the employee as she asked for my order.

  “This is Jo Ravens,” I yelled into the speaker. “I know how things work here. Please give me what I ask for. I’m tired and hungry, and I just want to get the right food for a change.”

  The voice crackled and broke. I could only make out the words order and inside.