The clubhouse preserved its brick heritage. Not only was the exterior built of Roland Foster’s finest, but the immediate grounds were enclosed by a six-foot-high brick fence with ornate wrought-iron gates that could close off both the roads and the golf cart paths. Whether he realized it or not, the mayor’s selection of the site had been a plus for security.
The deputy waved our cars through and I followed the procession to the front entrance of the long building. I wasn’t a member, preferring archery to golf, but I had attended numerous functions in the ballroom. I noticed that a red carpet had been rolled down the walkway to the curb. There would be no need for Tommy Lee’s passengers to have a deputy escort.
As Tommy Lee braked to a stop, Tweedledum and Tweedledee hurried down to greet the trio of dignitaries. Archie outpaced Mayor Whitlock, who kept waving to someone behind him. A photographer bolted through the massive doors and sprinted after His Honor. I hoped he had a wide-angle lens.
It was nearly eight-forty, but the adjacent parking lot still offered plenty of spaces. Either the rain or a select guest list had kept attendees to a manageable number, and we were able to park our vehicles together.
Tommy Lee got out holding his umbrella. “Do you have one that’s not been shot?”
“A good funeral director’s always prepared.” I grabbed a spare from the backseat.
Tommy Lee walked over to Kevin’s car to share his. As the three of us headed toward the clubhouse, he said, “Deputy Beale at the front gate says he knows everybody who’s come in. No surprises.”
“Y’Suom here?” Kevin asked.
“Yes. He arrived about ten minutes ago with Harvey Collins and Earl Hucksley. Bruce Nickles brought them.”
“They were running late too.” I wanted to ask who else Tommy Lee had checked on, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Kevin. Instead, I asked, “How many men have you got here?”
“Two less than I wanted. We had a burglary called in a couple hours ago and I sent two men back over the scene.”
“Back?”
“Yeah, happened in the storeroom of Frank Mendle’s pawn shop. He’d discovered a busted lock but wasn’t sure what had been taken. Now he knows.”
“Let me guess,” Kevin said. “A thirty-aught-six.”
“Not just any thirty-aught-six. A Springfield with a Weaver scope and some ammo. Our snipers in World War Two loved them.”
I weighed the implications. “We’ve got someone who’s very resourceful. He might not have everything planned out, but he reacts quickly. We call a meeting, and he gets the untraceable weapon he needs.”
“That’s why he’s dangerous,” Tommy Lee said. “Especially since we don’t know what he wants.”
Kevin laughed. “Oh, I think it’s pretty clear he wants to kill somebody.”
We found Weathers, Millen, and Talbert in a receiving line anchored by Archie at one end and the mayor at the other. Bruce Nickles stood just behind the senator, not shaking hands, but listening to each remark. He took his job as Communications Director deadly seriously. Weathers, Millen, and Talbert appeared gracious with their smiles and comments as a growing number of guests left the buffet tables to meet the celebrities.
Kevin started toward the tables of food. “I’m starving. At least our famous friends cleared out the chow line.”
The staples of roast beef and baked ham were accompanied by green beans and mashed potatoes. People stood and ate at high cocktail tables scattered around the ballroom. The food was too heavy for my taste, and if there had been any light hors d’oeuvres, they’d been devoured.
I left Tommy Lee and Kevin and searched for Y’Suom. I hoped to speak with him in private about how he wanted me to handle announcing the disappearance of his father’s body. I found him and the two Lutherans at a table in a far corner. Collins and Hucksley were eating from generous portions. Y’Suom didn’t even have a plate. His attention seemed concentrated on the receiving line and he didn’t look happy.
“How are things at the VFW?” I asked.
Collins put his fork down. “Good. The churches have coordinated plenty of food. We didn’t eat because we were coming here.”
“But Y’Suom hasn’t eaten at all,” Hucksley said between bites. “We’ve told him he needs to keep his strength up.”
“I’m fine,” Y’Suom replied. “Any news, Mr. Clayton?”
“No. But I thought you and I might talk a moment.”
He looked at his two companions. “In a few minutes. I’d like to thank the mayor first and speak to the others.”
“All right.” I realized I should have waited to catch him alone. He feared I was going to announce the stolen body while Collins and Hucksley were eating, bad form even in this country.
Y’Suom excused himself. To be polite, I spent a few minutes with the two men. We discussed the threatening storm front and how it would play havoc with the graveside tomorrow. Little did they know weather would be the least of their worries.
I’d positioned myself with my back to most of the ballroom. From the corner of my eye I saw a crew setting up microphones on a small stage against the wall. A long-haired local laid a guitar case on one corner.
“Ah, we’re about to hear some music, I hope.” Kevin walked up and placed a dish of apple pie and a cup of black coffee on the table. “Gentlemen, good to see you again.”
“You like mountain music?” Hucksley asked.
“I’m Irish. I like anything with a fiddle.”
“Then you’re in good shape. The tunes have been handed down from our Scotch-Irish settlers.”
Kevin took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I wish I had some scotch in this Irishman.”
Harvey Collins laughed. “You’re the victim of Wednesday night, my friend.”
“Wednesday night?”
“Baptist church meeting night. The mayor’s Baptist. It’s bad enough he’s throwing a party, but if he served alcohol, he’d catch hell.”
Kevin shook his head in disbelief. “And you’re Lutherans, right? Nothing dry about Wednesday for you?”
“No,” Hucksley said.
“And a man of the cloth to boot. Well, I’m an old Catholic altar boy. You’d think the mayor could be more ecumenical. Even the Pope’s recognized the Baptists have their good points.”
Hucksley chuckled. “But here’s the God’s truth. The Pope might recognize the Baptists, and the Lutherans might recognize the Baptists, but in a liquor store, not even a Baptist recognizes another Baptist.”
Kevin roared. “That’s worth passing up a drink.” He raised his cup. “Here’s to Thursday.”
“I need some coffee myself.” I took the opportunity to leave the table. I saw Y’Suom with the thinning crowd around the mayor and figured when the band started we could slip into another room for our conversation. Meanwhile, a cup of coffee was a welcomed diversion.
As I pulled the handle on the urn, Melissa Bigham stepped close beside me.
“One for me?”
“Since when did you cover the celebrity beat?” I handed her the cup and reached for another.
“Since I learned not to let you and my story out of my sight. What’s happened?”
I poured my coffee and edged away from a waiter replenishing desserts. Melissa followed me to a quiet alcove just off the main room.
“Nothing’s happened.”
“So all this security is just for show?” She cocked her head and gave me a hard eye.
There was no way I could tell her about the shooting. Even Melissa wouldn’t sit on that story. “I guess the mayor asked for it. Makes the event seem more important.”
“So, how was Mr. Action Hero? I hear you picked him up.”
“Did you stick a global positioning transmitter on my jeep?”
“No. Just a phone call to the guardhouse at Crystal Cascades to confirm where Talbert is staying. Edith’s quite chatty. She volunteered that you drove through a couple hours ago. Been pitching your life story?”
The
woman was relentless. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
“I don’t have a bad side. Just a curious one.”
“I took Talbert by to see the others before we came here.” I neglected to tell her we’d been at my cabin. “He’s all right, but too show-bizzy for my taste.”
“What’s he think about the disappearance?”
I moved to a love seat in the recess and motioned for Melissa to sit. From the ballroom, Mayor Whitlock began an official welcome over the stage mike. No one paid any attention to us.
“He was stunned, and I don’t think he’s a good enough actor to fake it. All of them were in Raven together, but Talbert’s as in the dark as the rest.”
She grabbed my wrist. “I can’t wait, Barry. Letting you bury an empty casket was never part of our deal.”
“I’m not asking you to wait. I’m going to break the news before the service tomorrow. You’ve still got the exclusive to my story.”
I hoped she’d relax, but her grip tightened. “What about the others? What are they going to say?”
“That it’s a police matter and Tommy Lee will be the only one commenting.”
“But I’ve got you on the inside.”
I heard Whitlock introduce General Weathers, Senator Millen, and Franklin Talbert. The round of applause almost drowned out my reply. “As much as I can divulge.”
“You’re holding back?”
“It’s an ongoing investigation. I don’t know what’ll turn up. But you can print everything we talked about in the park yesterday.”
She let go of my arm. “And new stuff? Off the record?”
“Possibly.”
“That’s not good enough, Barry.”
My throat constricted to keep from shouting. “I came to you, remember? After tomorrow, I won’t be involved.”
Melissa winked at me. “Calm down. Just doing my job. And I sure as hell know you’re not going to announce the theft of Y’Grok’s body and then let it go at that. I’m not stupid.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Then what are you going to do after tomorrow?”
The sound of a fiddle and banjo echoed from the ballroom. I looked down the hall toward the main doors where a deputy stood guard. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll watch a movie.”
This time Melissa took my hand with a gentler squeeze.
“A movie? Which one?”
“Ever hear of Operation Falcon?”
I didn’t catch her answer because at that moment the deputy opened the doors to admit a latecomer. Susan stepped inside. Holding an umbrella protectively over her, Dr. Ray Chandler nodded a thank you to the guard. I pulled my hand from Melissa’s, but not before Susan’s eyes had found me.
“Oops.” Melissa stood up. “Maybe we can talk later. I’ll want to check my facts before filing the story.”
“You don’t have to leave.” I hoped my guilty blush was fading.
“This could be a little awkward.” Melissa stood up and walked away.
I took a deep breath and got to my feet. Susan and her escort were halfway to the ballroom. “Susan.” If she heard me above the music, she didn’t react. I hustled after them. “Susan!”
Dr. Chandler looked back and then touched Susan’s arm. She stopped and turned.
“Oh, hello, Barry. You remember Ray.”
“Yes.” I shook Chandler’s hand and then looked at Susan. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“That’s because you didn’t ask me. Ray was kind enough to pick me up when he got off call.”
“How’s the head?” Chandler asked.
I wanted to say mind your own business, but he was a physician and I guess that was his business. “It’s fine. Frankly, I’ve been too pre-occupied to think about it.”
Susan glanced at the vacant love seat. “So I see.”
“Some things have happened. I’m here working.”
“Me too. I’m completing the assignment you gave me.” She stepped back and gestured to Chandler. “Here he is.”
“Here who is?” I didn’t like being on the outside of some secret joke, especially at my expense.
“The one who saw that Montagnard,” Chandler said. “I was on call.”
I felt like a dope. I’d asked Susan to get what medical background she could on Y’Grok, and, of course, it would have to be dashing Ray Chandler, doctor of mystery. She’d even delivered him to me.
“Let’s step over here.” I led them back to the alcove, made sure I sat by Susan on the love seat and left Chandler with an armchair. “When did you see him?”
“Tuesday. Two weeks ago.”
“At the clinic?”
“No. The emergency room. A social worker brought him in. He was having difficulty breathing.”
“Why didn’t you admit him?”
“I insisted. He refused. Without evidence of mental incompetence, I couldn’t force the man against his will.”
“What could you do?” The challenge in my voice brought a glare from Susan.
“I ordered an x-ray to see what was going on. The cancer had spread to the point where his lung efficiency was severely impaired. The mass concentration pressed upon his esophagus which not only meant discomfort but made swallowing difficult.” Chandler threw up his hands. “I pleaded with him to allow us to provide comprehensive treatment. He said that wasn’t necessary. It would interfere with his mission.”
“His mission?”
“That’s what he said.”
Susan smiled. She knew that piece fit into the puzzle somehow.
“Did you examine him all over?”
“You’re talking about the tattoos?”
I tried not to show my excitement. “Yes.”
“They couldn’t have been more than a day old. The puncture wounds were still in danger of infection. I applied topical antiseptic cream and dressed them with a light bandage.”
“Did you ask him about them?”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t you? Here’s a guy who I figure has a couple weeks to live and he carves a lifelong design in his skin. He told me they were insurance.”
“Insurance?”
“I thought he meant some ritual of dying. I know Asians put travel money on a corpse for the hereafter. Something like that.”
“It’s a Buddhist tradition. Y’Grok was Christian. What was the name of the man who brought him?”
Chandler shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
“Harvey Collins?”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Did he see the tattoos?”
“Y’Grok asked him to remain in the waiting area. I think he knew we’d gang up on him about being admitted. If this Collins saw the tattoos, it wasn’t at the hospital.”
The music from the band swelled. A penny whistle broke into a complicated solo and the audience applauded. I decided I’d need to be more direct with Collins later. He’d had the most contact with Y’Grok during his final days.
“Is any of this helpful?” Chandler asked.
“Yes.” I didn’t know what else to say. I could tell from Susan’s expression that she hadn’t told Chandler about the missing body, and he was expecting some sort of explanation for my questions.
“I’m sure Y’Grok’s son will appreciate knowing you tried to help,” Susan said.
I jumped on the bandwagon she’d provided. “Yes. Y’Suom was anxious to know about his father’s final days.”
“Tell him if his father had remained at the hospital, I could’ve done more to make him comfortable.” There was a look of true compassion in his eyes. “As it was, I prescribed a strong inhalant to keep his bronchial tree as open as possible.”
“Would being in the hospital have prolonged his life?” I asked.
“I doubt it. Frankly, I’m amazed he lasted as long as he did.”
“He was a tough old bird.”
“Yeah, something kept him going.”
His mission, I thought. But what was his mission?
I fo
rced a smile. “Thank you. I’ll be happy to introduce you to Y’Suom if you’d like.”
As we entered the ballroom, Chandler pointed to the far corner. “There’s the man who came with Y’Grok. In the brown suit.”
“Harvey Collins,” I confirmed. At least our circle of contacts remained small.
Susan pointed toward the stage. “Isn’t that the detective friend of Tommy Lee’s?”
In the middle of a quartet of mandolin, banjo, guitar, and fiddle players, Kevin piped away on a penny whistle. He even added a jig step to punctuate his final flourish. The audience clapped while the other musicians egged him on for an encore. I saw Tommy Lee laughing at the foot of the stage.
“And he accuses me of being the center of attention.” Franklin Talbert had eased up beside us and put his arm around my shoulder. “Kevin’s one of a kind, isn’t he?”
I enjoyed seeing the star-struck expression on Chandler’s face. Even Susan was impressed. “Franklin,” I spoke like we’d known each other for years, “meet my very special lady Dr. Susan Miller. And this is her professional colleague, Dr. Ray Chandler.”
Talbert shook hands and turned on the charm. “You can operate on me any day, young lady.”
Susan had heard the line a thousand times. “Great. I specialize in lobotomies.”
Talbert laughed. “Okay. I deserved that. But, now I’m worried Barry will ditch me to go home with you.”
Chandler put a hand on Susan’s back. “Don’t worry. I’m taking her home.”
And I’d almost warmed up to the twerp.
I scanned the room and then turned to Talbert. “Have you seen Y’Suom?”
“Yes. Fifteen or twenty minutes ago. He greeted us in line. Then I passed him going into the men’s room.”
I scanned the room again. “Maybe the mayor’s got him cornered. I’ll check the hall.”
“That would be a true public service.” Talbert took a step closer to Susan. “Meanwhile I’ll keep Susan hostage to make sure you don’t forget me.”
The hall to the restrooms was deserted. I checked the men’s room and found Bruce Nickles washing his hands. I glanced at the stalls and saw a pair of black shoes beneath the door. Nickles wouldn’t even let the senator sit on the john without being there. Maybe he proofread the toilet paper.
Foolish Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series Book 3) Page 14
