Foolish Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series Book 3)

by Mark de Castrique

  “Is the senator having a good time?”

  Nickles tore off a couple towels from the dispenser. “Yes. He can let his hair down a bit. No national press trying to trip him up on every word.”

  “You always seem to be there to catch him.”

  Nickles didn’t smile. “He does fine. I just help insure that the integrity of his context is preserved.”

  Integrity of his context? This man must sit in his suit by the senator’s bedside in case Millen talks in his sleep.

  “Have you seen Y’Suom?” I asked.

  Nickles tossed the wadded towels in the trashcan. “Only when he went through the receiving line.”

  The commode in the stall with the shoes flushed.

  “Maybe Senator Millen knows.”

  “I’ll ask him.” To my surprise, Nickles left.

  The stall opened and Archie Donovan walked out.

  “Great party, huh, Barry?”

  “Yeah, great party.”

  Archie stuck his hands under the tap. “I heard you asking about Y’Suom.”

  “I’m looking for him.”

  “So was the mayor. Wants to make that plot offer one more time.”

  “Has Mayor Whitlock got him in one of the offices?”

  “I don’t think he found him. Must have gone back to the VFW.”

  I knew that wasn’t the case. Collins and Hucksley were still here and Y’Suom had promised to talk with me before he left. “If you see him, tell him I need to talk with him.”

  “Sure. And mention the mayor if you run into him first.”

  That I definitely would not do. I left the men’s room and tried an adjoining wing of the club. Along one wall, a display of Roland Foster bricks capped off an historical exhibit of the company and the creation of the golf course. Opposite the exhibit, a wall of glass separated the room from an enclosed courtyard popular for wedding receptions. I heard rain beating against the atrium’s roof. None of the atrium’s overhead lights were on and the starless sky cloaked the space in deep shadows. I didn’t remember if Y’Suom smoked, but the courtyard would be the perfect place to stay dry and grab a quick cigarette. I found the door ajar and felt the chill in the air as I stepped in.

  My eyes required several seconds to adjust to the darkness. Then I made out the shape of a few plants and a bench. “Y’Suom?” The question went unanswered. I inched forward, looking for any movement against the glow from the far wall. I’d gone a couple yards when my foot kicked a loose brick.

  Bending down, I discovered a leg protruding from behind the bench. My stomach knotted. I peered over the edge, careful not to move my feet. In the gloom, I saw Y’Suom’s face turned toward me. His eyes were closed, but his tongue hung from a corner of his open mouth. His head lay in a dark pool of blood. A thin belt encircled his neck. The belt was embedded so deeply that lifeless flesh nearly covered the taut leather.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Monstrous. Absolutely monstrous.” Kevin Malone stared down at Y’Suom’s body. Kevin’s eyes were reduced to slits and the vein in his forehead bulged like a snake trapped under his skin.

  Weathers, Millen, and Talbert stood silently behind him. Weathers’ face was drained to chalk white, while Millen’s nearly exploded in a burst of red. “Someone will pay for this,” he promised.

  Talbert spoke through tears on his cheek. “The poor boy. After all he went through.” He turned to the others. “Whoever couldn’t kill one of us took his revenge out on Y’Suom. This smacks of terrorism. Persecute the Montagnards. Make examples of those who support them.”

  The atrium lights blazed and a wall of curious faces pressed against the glass. I stepped away from the corpse to join Tommy Lee at the door. Deputies had strung crime scene tape across the opening.

  On the other side, Mayor Whitlock leaned against the jamb. A sheen of perspiration coated his face. “This is terrible.” He stared at Tommy Lee. “You told me you had security.”

  “To screen people coming in. Not to patrol the grounds and building.”

  The beads of perspiration on Whitlock grew bigger. “What do we do now?”

  “Nobody leaves here until we get a statement from them.”

  The mayor’s mouth popped open so wide his multiple chins flattened against his chest. “What? You suspect one of the guests?”

  Tommy Lee spoke calmly. “Listen, Mayor. This is going to blow up in the morning. Every news organization and tabloid in the country will be crawling over this town. You have the chance to look like a leader or a befuddled mountain hick. How do you want to play it?”

  “But, but—”

  “You wanted publicity,” Tommy Lee said. “Well, you’ve got some. I’ve got a job to do and I expect your cooperation.”

  The mayor sputtered unintelligible syllables until his mind caught up with his tongue. “What do you need?”

  “I need you to set an example, and you can do it with the help of your guests of honor.” Tommy Lee pointed to the four men he’d cleared to view the body.

  “Anything.”

  “My deputies are sealing the building. No one can leave until we’ve taken a statement about the evening—what they did, where they went, when they last saw Y’Suom.”

  “But there must be a hundred people.”

  “Then the sooner we get started, the sooner we finish. Get more coffee and food. People will understand, particularly after you and our celebrities make a personal request from the stage.”

  The light bulb went off in Whitlock’s skull and he couldn’t suppress a smile. “Of course. Can you get everyone back in the ballroom?”

  “Yes, but you start telling them one on one. I’ll have Weathers, Millen, and Talbert out in a minute. Barry and I’ll stay with the body till the crime lab arrives.”

  “Okay.” Whitlock’s head bobbed with enthusiasm.

  “Oh, and I’ll keep Malone with us. He’s a detective.”

  Mayor Whitlock couldn’t have cared less about Kevin Malone. He waddled into the crowd, instructing people to return to the ballroom.

  With the interrogative process underway, Tommy Lee returned to the atrium and joined Kevin and me. “I’ve phoned a request to Buncombe County. They have a new mobile crime lab and I want the first pass to be state of the art.”

  Kevin looked skeptical. “I’d be surprised if even the FBI found anything.”

  “Why?” Tommy Lee asked.

  “You ever get prints off a brick?”

  “Nothing usable.”

  “Our killer knew that.” Kevin pointed to the brick beside the body. “Barry showed me the display in the other room. The example of Esquire Heritage is missing, but I’d say we’ve found it. No coincidence this type brick is the most porous of the unglazed styles.”

  “Maybe the lab can still get something,” Tommy Lee said. “I’ve read about new sprays that have been tested.”

  Kevin nodded. “We got in on that. An information exchange team from Boston went to Australia last year. They’re developing a formula they claim can get prints off of rocks. Trouble is the spray’s so toxic you need protective gear and a scene cleanup the EPA would have to bless.”

  “And what if you do lift some.” I bent down and examined the brick. “This was part of an open exhibit. How many hands have touched it? The killer could say he was just examining the display.”

  Tommy Lee crouched down for a closer view. “There’s hair and a trace of blood on one edge. You two figure the brick knocked Y’Suom out first.”

  I stood back up. “The guy knocked me out. Seems to be his pattern.”

  Tommy Lee continued to stare at the brick. “Assuming this is the same guy.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Kevin asked.

  “Barry was attacked at three in the morning on Tuesday. Since then, Y’Suom’s been at the hotel, the town park, the VFW, and probably a few other places we don’t even know about. Why’s our guy wait till tonight at a crowded party with fairly tight security?”

  “We were
shot at tonight.” I said. “There has to be a connection.”

  “I don’t buy it.” Tommy Lee stood up. “If Y’Suom had any idea that someone might be desperate enough to shoot at us, why didn’t he say something?”

  Neither Kevin nor I had an answer.

  “We’re either misreading something, or haven’t a clue as to the motive,” Tommy Lee said. “That’s the big question I keep running up against. Why? Why steal a body? Why shoot at one of us? Why kill a dead man’s son?”

  “And any answer comes back to Y’Grok and those tattoos,” Kevin said.

  “His mission,” I muttered.

  Tommy Lee looked up at me. “What mission?”

  “That’s what the doctor said who treated Y’Grok at the emergency room two weeks ago. I spoke to him tonight. He’d noticed the tattoos right after they’d been made. Y’Grok told him they were to insure he completed his mission.”

  “That’s clear enough,” Kevin said. “What’s unclear is what do the tattoos mean and what was Y’Grok’s mission?” He pointed to Y’Suom’s waist. “The killer stripped off Y’Suom’s belt, probably holding it through a handkerchief or jacket sleeve.” Kevin leaned over the body. “See the bruising on his cheek? That’s where a foot went. The killer slipped the belt around his neck, stepped on Y’Suom’s face, and then pulled with all his strength to strangle an unconscious man. Couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes. Dollars to doughnuts your M.E. will find a crushed windpipe.”

  “Our M.E.’s a simple coroner,” Tommy Lee said. “Old Ezra Clark. He’s on his way with perfunctory paperwork, but then I’m sending the body to Asheville for a full forensic autopsy.”

  I studied the raw spot on Y’Suom’s cheek. “Guess it’s too much to hope that the sole of the killer’s shoe left some distinctive mark.”

  Tommy Lee got to his feet. “We’d have better luck scanning everyone’s hands for brick dust.”

  Kevin crossed himself before rising. “A little soap, a little water, and that trace goes down the drain. I need a drink.”

  A little soap, a little water. I saw Archie Donovan at the sink washing his hands, telling me the mayor wanted to make one final appeal to Y’Suom. The idea that flashed through my head was too absurd to mention.

  Tommy Lee caught my arm. “We have to speak to the minister about postponing Y’Grok’s service.”

  “Postpone the service? We’ve already delayed it two days trying to find his body.”

  “Then why have people turn right around and come back for Y’Suom? And you know they will. Can we go Friday?”

  “If you release Y’Suom’s body in time.”

  “Well, I don’t have any reason to doubt what Kevin said about the cause of death. With a little pressure from a U.S. senator and a three-star general, I estimate you’ll get the body by four tomorrow.”

  “That’ll work.”

  As we ducked under the crime tape, I saw Melissa Bigham waiting in the hallway. She walked up to Tommy Lee, her notepad ready.

  “Sheriff, can I get a statement?”

  “We’re too late for your press run, aren’t we?”

  “Not for the wire services.”

  “Then the Asheville and Charlotte papers will pick the story up and you’ll scoop your own employer.”

  “That’s my problem.”

  Tommy Lee winked at me. “I know. That’s why you won’t do it. Anyway, I really don’t have time now. Talk to Barry. Just know if he says anything unauthorized and you print it, I’ll jail him.” He walked off.

  Melissa pivoted to block my path. “So what’s the deal?”

  “Either off the record or my lips are sealed.”

  “Have we ever had a conversation on the record?”

  “No. Why start now?” I led her back to the brick exhibit and showed her the empty spot for Esquire Heritage. Then I told how we suspected the murder was accomplished, but that no details could be released at this point.

  “Someday this will make good copy, Barry, but what’s the motive?”

  “We don’t know. Probably something to do with Raven and the disappearance of Y’Grok’s body.”

  “The father told the son?”

  “Y’Suom didn’t know anything.”

  “That’s what he told you,” Melissa said. “Maybe someone else thought differently.” Melissa’s reporting instincts had zeroed in on an interesting possibility.

  “You mean maybe Y’Suom knew more than he realized, and said something to the wrong person?”

  “Which is why he wasn’t killed the same night his father’s body was stolen. Who’d he talk to since Monday?”

  “Good question.” I made a mental note to mention the theory to Tommy Lee. “I love hanging out with smart women.”

  Melissa didn’t smile. “Your other smart woman left with that doctor. She told me to tell you goodbye.”

  “When?”

  “Before you discovered the body.”

  “So she and Chandler didn’t give statements?”

  “No.” Melissa looked around the crowded ballroom. “I wonder who else left before Tommy Lee sealed the building.”

  I was more concerned with why Susan had told Melissa to tell me goodbye. Women. “We’re delaying the funeral for Y’Grok a day. We’ll have a service for both of them on Friday.”

  “Your dignitaries staying till then?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

  She jotted the fact on her pad. “You still releasing the story of the missing body?”

  “That’s Tommy Lee’s call. I suspect he will in a briefing on the murder investigation. He’ll have a zoo on his hands tomorrow.”

  “Reporters. We’re such a pain in the ass. Anything else?”

  What the heck. Let her be a pain in somebody else’s ass. “The mayor and Archie Donovan had this party to get publicity for their Heaven’s Gate Garden cemetery. Did you know that?”

  “I knew they took Franklin Talbert up there this afternoon.”

  “Archie told me tonight Mayor Whitlock wanted to make one last pitch for Y’Suom to have his father buried there.”

  “So he killed him? Bring in customers by bumping them off?”

  “No. But I can guarantee you they’ll make another run at me and Pastor Hucksley, offering an extra plot to keep father and son together.”

  Melissa flipped the cover of her notepad closed. “So?”

  “So, I’m curious as to how far out on a financial limb they might be. Who at the paper covers real estate and development?”

  “Mannie Elwood.”

  “Maybe some information on their investors, leverage, and tax assessments could help me advise Pastor Hucksley on how seriously to take their offer. Perhaps they’d sweeten the deal with a nice donation to the Montagnard resettlement fund.”

  “Sure. I’ll mention it to Mannie in the morning. I’ll say there’s a possibility the double burial could happen up there and I need background. He’ll dig. Mannie’s no fan of the mayor.”

  “Thanks.” I walked with her back to the ballroom.

  “I guess I’ll give my statement and split for the newsroom. Can I call you in the morning to go over my story draft?”

  “Try the cabin and then my cell.”

  Melissa took a step away and I couldn’t resist. “Did Susan say anything besides goodbye?”

  “No. Sorry, Barry.”

  From the tone of her voice, I wasn’t sure if she was sorry Susan hadn’t said more or sorry for me in general.

  I gave my statement to Reece Hutchins in about ten minutes, and then Tommy Lee found me at the coffee urn where I was trying to clear my head with another jolt of caffeine.

  “How’d things go with Melissa?”

  “I told her what we know off the record. Nothing for print. I went long on our theories of how Y’Suom was killed and short on why.”

  “Because we are short on why.”

  “She had an interesting take. What if the killer thought Y’Grok
had told something to his son?”

  Tommy Lee’s one eye narrowed. “That doesn’t explain why he waited till tonight.”

  “It does if between Monday and this evening Y’Suom said something that spooked the killer.”

  “Confronted him?”

  “Maybe, or maybe inadvertently revealed more than he should have.”

  Tommy Lee mulled the possibility. “We should have thought of that.”

  “We’re not big enough pains in the ass.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Barry. You’re way up there on my Richter scale.”

  I didn’t have a snappy comeback. All I could manage was an overpowering yawn.

  “Why don’t you get out of here,” Tommy Lee said. “You’re two days off a concussion, and I need you to stay alive a little longer.”

  I took a healthy swallow of coffee. “But we never got to talk. You were checking where people were during the shooting. There’s stuff to go over.”

  “Not tonight, pal.” He looked at his watch. “It’s after ten. Promise me you’ll go home, and I’ll meet you at the Cardinal Café tomorrow morning.”

  “What time?”

  “Better make it seven. Tomorrow’s going to be non-stop.”

  He gave me a pat on the shoulder and I wobbled. God, I was tired. “Okay. I’ll be there.” I set down my cup and turned toward the door.

  “Barry, you ready?” Franklin Talbert broke from Whitlock and Archie with a hasty goodbye.

  I’d forgotten I’d promised him a lift.

  Once in my jeep, I started the engine, looked in the rearview mirror at the red brick of the country club and thought about Y’Suom’s body on the cold atrium floor. Maybe the mayor shouldn’t have thrown a party on Wednesday night after all.

  Franklin Talbert snapped his seatbelt. “Barry, can I ask a favor?”

  Great, I thought. He wants to go bar-hopping. “Sure.”

  “This stuff tonight, the shooting and Y’Suom’s murder. Well, it’s got me a little rattled. I don’t like the idea of being up at that strange house where I don’t know my way around. And Whitlock’s told everybody that’s where I’m staying.”

  “You want to sleep at the cabin?”