R.P. Dahlke - Dead Red 03 - A Dead Red Oleander

by R. P. Dahlke

  “One—two—”

  No way was I going to allow them to take me to the hospital for tests and prodding. I was pretty sure I knew who our Jack Lee Carton was, and where I could find him.

  “Three.”

  I pushed with the heels of my work boots and together we were able to get me out from under the truck. He helped me stand, hanging on long enough to see that I wasn’t going to collapse. I took one look at my dad’s old truck and sank back down to my knees.

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling me to my feet again. “They don’t make ’em like that anymore.”

  <><><><><>

  With a patch on my bad eye and my arm in a sling, I sat on a stool between Pearlie and Caleb, and repeated everything I could think of about the last few hours.

  I got as far as my talk with the owner’s son at the aero-ag school when Marshal Balthrop interrupted. “What did you say his name was?”

  “He said his name was Don Upton, but Jim, Don Upton is also Jack Carton.”

  Jim cocked his head to one side as if listening to a conversation in his head. “The owner’s son is Kyle, not Don, and he’s not a lawyer, he’s a farmer.”

  Pearlie fished around in her purse, came out with a card, and shoved it at him. “Lalla here got hit on the head, she’s obviously concussed. Here’s his business card. Says right here his name is Don Upton, an attorney in Sacramento. Give it a call if you don’t believe me.”

  I kept quiet on Pearlie’s need to vindicate Don Upton’s reputation.

  I asked Jim, “You’ve met the owner’s son?”

  “Yes, he came into our office in Sacramento when his dad died. Young guy, a big-boned Swede.”

  Jim took the card, pulled out his cell, and punched in the numbers. He closed the phone.

  “It’s the number for the downtown library,” he said, looking from Pearlie to me.

  “And to think I went there again to ask about Alvin,” I said. “He was leaning on a shovel because his leg was bothering him.”

  “I remember, he had a limp,” Pearlie added. “He said he got it in Afghanistan.”

  “Alvin said Clark Sullivan bragged about being in Afghanistan.”

  Pearlie sucked in a breath. “They were in cahoots, the two of them.”

  Jim shook his head. “He could have killed you when you went to the aero-ag school this morning but he didn’t. You interrupted something he felt was more important than killing you.”

  I thought it was odd, Don Upton with a shovel in his hand instead of a pencil. “He told me he had laid off Alvin. He told me that while he had a shovel in his hand.”

  Jim expression was grim. “Remember when I told you this guy always has two plans? He could’ve killed you after he hit you in that intersection. Instead, he rolled your truck into the cotton field and handcuffed you to the bumper. You could’ve died from dehydration, but I suspect he’s betting you made it out. Miss Bains, I believe he feels he has to finish you off, but he’s just compulsive enough to want to do it on his terms. If you’re up to it, I’d like for you to go back to the aero-ag school office.”

  Caleb put out a hand. “He’ll be long gone by now.”

  Jim shook his head. “I don’t think so. Remember what I said about his profile? This is a man who is very set in his ways. He plans, executes his job by his rules, and then leaves. You have thwarted his plans, cost him his kill on Nancy and Mad Dog. He has a bone to pick with you, Miss Bains, and now that you know who is responsible for the death of your father’s friend, he figures that you will want prove it.”

  “After ramming her truck and trying to kill her? She’s not going back there, Jim.”

  “She won’t be alone.”

  “Jim, do you have a plan?” I asked,

  “He’s a psycho, playing games.” Caleb stood. “She’s not going.”

  Jim Balthrop ignored Caleb. “With your help, we’ll flush him out. What do you say, Miss Bains?”

  I turned to Caleb. “I don’t see any other way of doing this, do you?”

  “I’m coming too!” Pearlie said, standing.

  Caleb gave up on me, but pointed a finger at Pearlie. “Only if you promise to stay in a vehicle.

  Caleb, Jim Balthrop, Pearlie, and I followed the county sheriff and his crew to within a half mile of the flight school. From there, the county sheriff and his men fanned out to keep watch on any backroad escape routes.

  <><><><>

  We took Caleb’s cruiser through the gate and into the quiet yard of the flight school. A white Chevy Impala was parked next to the office. Sandwiched between Caleb and Jim Balthrop, their weapons at ready, I stepped on the welcome mat and hesitated, looking down. Something bulky had been stuck under it. I looked up to Caleb, but before I could say anything, I heard Don Upton’s voice say, “Come in, Miss Bains.”

  I reached for the door knob and Caleb’s hand closed around my wrist. With a finger to his lips, he cautioned me to wait. Looking behind him, he stepped back and picked up an old wood box leaning against the building. He took off both of his boots, and his police belt, and stuck them in the box.

  I stood nervously waiting for directions. I whispered, “What…?”

  Jim nodded sharply, then added his shoes and held up his sidearm in question. Caleb waved it away. Then Jim quietly directed Caleb to hand him the box.

  Caleb hesitated, then handed it over as Jim crouched down, the box at ready between his thighs. Caleb held me by my waist, keeping me steady as he showed Jim three fingers and started a countdown.

  One… I stood stiffly waiting, now sure that something was going to happen and soon.

  Two… Jim edged the box closer to my feet and just slightly above the mat.

  Three… In one deft move, Caleb lifted me off the mat and Jim replaced the pressure with the box exactly where I had been standing.

  Caleb took off running with me in his arms, Jim’s feet grabbing for purchase in the dust as he scrambled after us.

  The blast hit us at thirty feet away, knocking Caleb to his knees and flattening Jim beside us.

  The resulting explosion shot burning debris in all directions, but fortunately missed us.

  When we’d dropped to the ground, Caleb had covered me with his body. He rolled off and squeezed my good shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Some welcome mat.”

  “You’re okay,” he said, pulling me to my feet.

  Jim got to his knees, shook his head, then opened his mouth wide to pop his ears. “Damn near got us. That was some quick thinking, Caleb. What alerted you to the bomb?”

  Caleb helped Jim to his feet then moved us further away from the fire. He rubbed the back of his hand across my cheek. “Lalla saw it first.”

  “I was watching the door,” Jim said, staring at the building going up in flames. “What’d she see?”

  “When you’ve been around a woman as long as I’ve been around Lalla Bains,” he said, his eyes roving over my body for injuries, “you get to read each other pretty well.”

  Pearlie ran up and grabbed me in a tight hug. “I could feel that blast all the way back to the deputy’s car. Are y’all okay? Did you get him?”

  Caleb said, “He had a bomb rigged to the doormat.”

  I said, “As soon as I stepped inside, it would’ve gone off.”

  “Then—”

  Another sound caught my attention. A single engine aircraft was revving its engine for takeoff.

  Pearlie pointed at the airstrip behind the hangar. One of the flight trainers, a Piper Cub, sped down the flight school’s runway and lifted off with just enough room to clear the hangar. “That bastard! He stuck around to see if you’d take the bait!”

  Jim Balthrop’s shoulders slumped. “All we can do is put a BOL on the aircraft and hope for the best.”

  “A ball?” Pearlie tilted her head and put her arm around me. “Never mind. You boys go on and get out your ball thingy, or whatever, and I’ll see to Lalla here.”

  Jim, anxious to get to the business of captu
ring the killer, strode off with Caleb.

  Pearlie pulled me in the direction of the pole hangar. “My Cessna’s parked here. Now don’t fuss. Nobody was around when I landed, I checked.”

  “You can’t follow him. You don’t know which way he went.”

  “The marshal gave me an idea. That is, if you think you can see well enough for what I got planned. If you can, I think we have a chance to nail this bastard.”

  “I can only see out of the one eye, and my balance isn’t too hot right now, besides—”

  “That’s good enough. Now let’s scoot outta here before they see what we’re up to.”

  <><><><>

  We got into the Cessna, and she did a quick preflight, then taxied to the end of the runway, kicked the rudder and did a 180 turn, revved the engine, pulled back the yoke, and took off. And because she felt a little guilty about our subterfuge, she banked and swooped over the tops of the police cars.

  I looked down and saw Caleb’s upturned face, his mouth open. I could almost hear him say, “Oh shit!”

  Pearlie climbed high enough so that we were in legal air space for private aircraft and flew north while I searched for the smaller and slower Piper cub. “Why do you think he went this way?”

  “Air traffic west of here will be thick with commercial aircraft, and east are the Sierras. That little ol’ Piper Cub ain’t got the stuff to cross a mountain range. South is filled with police coming this way. So, I’m guessing north, probably got a landing field and, and like Jim said, the guy’s always got two plans. He’s probably got a car hidden for his getaway.”

  She was right about the direction, and within minutes I saw the tan wings of the Piper Cub and pointed. “Now what? Chase him until he runs out of gas?”

  Pearlie’s grin was about as evil as I could hope for. “I dated the cutest boy from MIT. He taught me all about trajectory and rate of descent for bowling balls. We practiced on an old abandoned car, and both of us got good enough so we could hit that car dead-on center. The Cessna’s faster than the Cub, and he’s a high-wing same as us, so he won’t see us till it’s too late.”

  “You have a bowling ball in your granny’s Cessna?”

  “Two of ’em. Granny and I take our own with us. Behind the seats in bags. You reach over and get one out, and when we’re close enough, bombs away.”

  I held the seventeen-pound bowling ball in my sweat-slicked hands, and hoped to God I could pull this off.

  She looked at me and said, “You can do this, you know.” She edged up to within a hundred yards behind and above him, and keeping her speed and altimeter matched to his, said, “This is where you come in. Push open the door just enough to wedge it with the ball. Don’t put your fingers in the holes, just hang on to it, and when I say ‘go’ do it, okay?”

  I did as she said, and held my breath waiting for her signal.

  “Wait for it. Wait—wait—go!”

  Chapter Twenty-three:

  Pearlie and I sat on upturned wooden crates waiting for the police, EMTs, and fire department to report back to us on where the Piper Cub went down. The bowling ball had done its job, rocketing through the wing of the flight school trainer, sending the lightweight plane into a tailspin and crashing into an empty field. We’d circled the wreck and saw the killer fall out of the door and stumble around before dropping to the ground. He rolled on to his back, and from his middle finger salute, we knew he was alive. Pearlie answered him in a tilt of her wing, and we flew back to the airstrip at the flight school. Lucky him, he’d get to stand trial for multiple murders after all.

  <><><><>

  The fire chief confirmed that the fire at the flight school was started by an explosive device, and Jack Lee Carton, or whoever he really was, had been picked up and taken away.

  We couldn’t stop smiling and poking each other like a couple of happy kids. We’d done it. Singlehandedly brought down the man who’d been responsible for at least three murders, and maybe four, if the sheriff’s deputies found Alvin’s body buried in the soft earth of the poled hangar.

  Pearlie chattered on about her plans for Mad Dog until she mentioned staying in Modesto.

  “I thought you were all set to take your acting skills to Hollywood,” I said, ribbing her a bit.

  “You know that was just the adrenaline talking, but I have a better idea. I think you’ll admit we’re a pretty good team. Of course, I have some catching up to do in the crime solving department, but I’m as smart as you, so I don’t see any reason why we can’t be partners in this.”

  “In what?”

  “A private investigating business. We’d be our own bosses. We could call it the Blonde Jobs.”

  “Pearlie, I don’t think—”

  “Wait—you don’t have to say yes or no right now. We have plenty of time. I’m going to be here nursing Mad Dog back to health and seeing him on his feet again. That will be my penance for not believing in him.”

  “Pearlie, your granny will disinherit you!”

  “Lalla, when granny passes, I’m getting a bequest of some cash, same as you. The rest of it goes to charity. I oughta know, I helped her set it up.”

  “But then why do you—”

  “I know. My bad. I get crazy in love with some guy and figure if he thinks I’m an heiress he’ll be more interested. Well, I am an heiress, but not as rich as most of ’em think.”

  I was wondering if this would mean the end of her relationship with Mad Dog but decided to keep my mouth shut.

  “So will you just think about it? I mean, what else are you going to do for fun? Your daddy’s cropdusting business will be sold soon, right?”

  She had a point. “I’ll give it some thought, Pearlie.”

  She pointed at the patch over my swollen eye and giggled. “I’m gonna have to put some rhinestones on that eye patch. Otherwise, you’re going to look like all the other one-eyed pirates at the wedding.”

  The mention of my wedding blew away my earlier euphoria. Caleb and I never did have that talk last night. He probably wanted to call the whole thing off, and I couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t.

  Caleb and Jim Balthrop turned in unison when the deputy who’d been assigned grave duty came running up to us. “It’s like you said, Miss Bains. There’s a body in a shallow grave.”

  That made four dead because of Jack Carton: Arthur, Burdell, Jinx, and now Alvin.

  The two men stepped over to where Pearlie and I waited. Caleb winced at my pathetic appearance—swollen eye, bruises on my face, my arm in a sling. Some bride I would make.

  “Pearlie, do you feel up to flying your granny’s plane back to Lalla’s ranch?”

  “You bet,” she said, popping up off the crate. She was pumped on that adrenaline again, but this time she hadn’t shot anyone. “We can make it back to the ranch before dark if we start now,” she said, nodding at the late afternoon sun.

  Caleb put a hand on my shoulder. “If you don’t mind, Pearlie, I’m going to take her home with me.”

  I smiled and said, “You go on home, and we’ll see you at the ranch later tonight.”

  If I was lucky, maybe he wasn’t kicking me out of his life after all. Maybe we’d spend the night in bed, and maybe it was all just wishful thinking.

  He led me to his cruiser and gently buckled me into the passenger seat. “You okay for another couple of minutes? Good. I’ll be right back,” he said, and went back to talk to first one person and then another. I heard the Cessna swoop over the cruiser. Pearlie was on her way home. By the time I got there she would have sorted it all out with Aunt Mae and my dad. Good. That would be one less story I had to recite again. I didn’t envy her the job she had set herself for, nursing Mad Dog back to health. But first she would have to tell him that Jinx had been murdered, and why.

  I yawned once, and then twice, feeling my eyes grow heavy with exhaustion. Up since before dawn, a few hours of flying, then all those hours lying in a field of cotton.

  With the warmth of the car an
d my exhaustion, I was having a hard time staying awake. I blinked my eyes wider, but they simply drifted down again. I had to stay awake, at least long enough to find out if the wedding was still on or not. I looked out the window at Caleb, deep in conversation with Jim Balthrop and another officer, and gave up. Maybe it would be best to put my seat back and get a little shut-eye.

  <><><><>

  I woke up in Caleb’s bed, the sun shining through the window. I was flat on my back, the covers flung back to reveal that I was still in my panties and bra. Well, crap, this was a fine howdy-do. No conversation and no make-up sex, either.

  I rolled over to the edge of the bed and slowly pushed myself up with my elbows. Everything ached and my eye pounded.

  “You have an appointment with an eye doctor at noon,” he said, holding out a cup of hot coffee.

  I took it and tried to smile, but the split in my lip hurt too much. “Can you help me to the shower?”

  “I was going to suggest that myself,” he said, a little gleam in his eye.

  Evidently, I wasn’t too hideous to look at, because Caleb turned on the shower, undressed me, then took off his T-shirt, revealing those rock-hard abs I so loved. Then he lowered his jeans just below his hip bones till I could see the pale fuzz that started, and ended, with everything that made me feel like I belonged to him.

  He stopped and frowned. “I thought it best if I’m in there with you, you know, to hold you up, but if you don’t want me to….”

  I smiled up at him, ignoring how much it hurt my lip, and held out my arms to be lifted up and into the shower.

  <><><><>

  An hour later, we were back in the bed, tangled up in the sheets and sweaty. “Another shower?” I asked, trailing a finger from chest to his belly button and causing a minor quake in his stomach muscles.

  He lifted my hand up and threaded my fingers with his. “Deodorant will have to do until after the eye doctor, but first, let’s get some breakfast.”

  “You brought me home with you so we could talk, but of course I fell asleep on you. Do you want to have that talk now, Caleb?”