Dead Broke in Jarrett Creek

by Terry Shames

  “Clara, at the funeral Barbara and Cookie were watching for someone they thought might be coming to the service. They seemed worried. Do you know what they thought might happen?”

  Clara closes her eyes and leans back against the chair. “Not exactly. I wish Gary had been a better husband to Barbara.” She opens her eyes again and there’s a spark in them. “Not that it’s all his fault. Annalise is right. Barbara is a cold fish.”

  I’m surprised to hear Clara use such a term and in such a cold voice. She’s always a lady, always gracious. “Everybody’s marriage is different. And it can change people.”

  I know it changed Barbara. As a young woman, Barbara was pretty, with a beautiful figure, but when did I last see her smiling?

  “I remember your wife,” Clara says. “Marriage changed you, you know.”

  A pang of sadness arches through me. “For the better.”

  “That’s right. You were a bit bitter in your youth, what with your mother and all. Some people aren’t cut out to be parents, and your mother was one of them.”

  It stuns me to hear Clara talk like this. She’s several years older than me and she must have been old enough to know something of what went on in my family. Between my daddy’s drinking and my mamma’s rage, there was plenty for people to gossip about.

  This is as intimate a talk as I’ve had with anyone for a long time. I couldn’t even imagine such a talk with this woman a month ago. The death of her son has put her in a pensive mood.

  “So you don’t know why Barbara wanted me to be there at the funeral?” I say.

  “They didn’t tell me exactly. But I suspect they were afraid that some woman would show up where she wasn’t wanted. And I think I know who it was.”

  Did Clara know that Gary was having an affair with Angel? Maybe Barbara told her. “They really thought she would show up?”

  “From what I’ve heard about Darla Rodriguez, she’d do anything,” she said.

  “Darla? I’m confused.”

  “She was after Gary. It’s as simple as that. I don’t care that she was carrying on with Gabe LoPresto. The one she really wanted was Gary.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Cookie told me. She should know; she works with both of them.”

  There’s a sound at the front door, and Clara’s face relaxes subtly. She puts a finger to her lips and whispers, “He doesn’t like me to talk about this.”

  Alan Dellmore kisses Clara and shakes hands with me. “Samuel, I suppose you’re here in connection with your investigation. Any news?”

  “Not yet. I have a couple of banking questions I wanted to pass by you.”

  Clara gets to her feet. “I’m going to make you some lunch, Alan. Samuel, can I fix you something, too?”

  “I already had a bite to eat, but thank you.”

  Dellmore watches his wife cross the room, and as soon as she’s gone, he says, “She’s doing okay, don’t you think?”

  “Coping. That’s the best you can do right now.”

  Dellmore takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I keep waiting to wake up and feel better, but until I know exactly who killed Gary and why, I won’t be able to move forward.”

  “Alan, I had a talk with Cookie yesterday and I need to verify a couple of things.”

  “If Cookie told you something, it’s going to be correct.”

  “The problem is, she may not know the truth. This has to do with the water park project.”

  “Yes. What a nightmare. But Cookie would know everything I know.”

  “Were you aware that the company contracted to do the park was in financial trouble?”

  If it’s possible for Dellmore to get any paler, he does. “No. But I assume you’re asking because you thought Gary knew. Is that right?”

  “It looks like he and Slate McClusky conspired to get the water park deal through.”

  “McClusky? What did he have to do with it? Gary told me McClusky was just a backer.”

  I shake my head. “Liberty Water Park is his company.”

  Alan closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his forehead. “I don’t understand. What did Gary stand to gain from this?” But even as he says it, his mouth drops open and I see understanding in his eyes. “They gave him a kickback. Is that it?”

  “That’s what I’m assuming. It looks like they paid him off so he wouldn’t look too closely at the financial state of the company. Even the slightest investigation would have shown Gary that they were having financial problems and that they wouldn’t be able to go through with the project, no matter how good a loan they got. So it’s likely they bought him off to keep him quiet.”

  Dellmore looks off into space. “Who told you this?”

  “I had a couple of sources.”

  He nods. “You’re not telling.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Only if they aren’t telling the truth.”

  “Right now the important thing is that it sounds like you were never a party to it.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I tried to give Gary freedom to do business in the way he thought best. After all, at some point, he’d be taking over the bank. At least that was true until recently.”

  “Had that changed?”

  “I was beginning to realize that he was the wrong person for the job.”

  “Did you ever suggest to Gary that you might not choose him to run the bank?”

  “It wouldn’t be up to me anyway—it would be a board decision. Not that they wouldn’t have listened to me, but I had to admit to myself that I was less and less inclined to push the board in his direction.” He sighs. “A few months ago Gary and I fought about it. I suggested to him that it might be prudent for him to take it seriously, that the board had traditional ways of doing things and they may not name him to head the bank if they felt he didn’t have the bank’s best interest at heart.”

  “He wouldn’t listen?”

  Dellmore’s shoulders sag. “Gary said he didn’t plan to be a banker his whole life and he was working on a way to get into a different line of business. I never thought he was serious—I thought he was just being spiteful.” Dellmore has become agitated, but suddenly reality descends on him again. “Of course, this is all moot now.”

  “Do you know what kind of business he meant?”

  “No. Like I said, I thought he was just blowing off steam.”

  “Your daughter doesn’t have any interest in the banking business?”

  “Not at all. She’ll inherit my interest in the bank now, but she always made it clear that she wanted to be a wife and mother. And quite frankly, old-fashioned as I am, that was fine with me.”

  I remember how broken up Annalise was at the service yesterday. “Gary and Annalise were close?”

  “We were lucky. They got along well. Gary liked her husband, too.”

  I see no need to divulge the details concerning how Darla Rodriguez, the McCluskys, and Gary Dellmore planned to hook Gabe LoPresto into buying McClusky’s resort. That will all come out eventually, and Alan and Clara will have to deal with the knowledge that their son was a crook, pure and simple.

  I know now that Clara isn’t as fragile as she seems, and that she has a philosophy that will hold her up, although after our talk I wish I could spare her.

  I’m getting used to the sound my cell phone makes when it goes off, so I reach for it easily in my jacket pocket. “Craddock.”

  “Chief, it’s Bill Odum. I’ve got some news for you.”

  “What news?” I’m driving to meet Angel at her place.

  “After I talked to you this morning, I told my dad we needed that ballistics test. He called somebody to come help out, and we finished early so I could get the test done. I just finished up here at the college.”

  I hear the smile in his voice. “And?”

  “Like I said, it won’t stand up in court, but as far as I can tell, we’ve got a match on the gun.”

  “I’m going to be talking to
Slate, but I wanted to get your version of this apart from him.”

  I’m standing in the living room with Angel, who has her arms crossed and is glaring at me. Camping out doesn’t suit her. Her eyes are bloodshot and her skin is pale, almost waxy. She’s dressed as usual in a Western shirt and tight jeans, but the shirt is buttoned all the way up and she’s wearing a sweater. The room is cold, as if they can’t even afford to keep the heat on. “What is it you want from me exactly?”

  “You told me Slate didn’t know Gary Dellmore, but that wasn’t true. He had a lot of business dealings with Dellmore—including the water park deal.”

  “I also told you that doesn’t mean they were friends. It was business.”

  “Was it just business between you and Dellmore, too?”

  “I hardly knew Gary either.” She looks at me with a steady gaze. It isn’t true that liars won’t meet your eyes.

  “Come on, Angel. You were having an affair with him. How long had that been going on?”

  She tries to laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Where did you hear that?”

  “From a reliable source. Did it start before or after the water park deal?”

  When she speaks her voice is coarser. “What are you, the morals police? It’s nobody’s business if I saw Gary.”

  “It is if your husband found out and shot him.”

  “That would never happen.” She paces to the window. With her back to me, she says, “Slate had a use for Gary. Trust me, as long as Slate can use somebody, he’ll get everything he can out of them. Anyway, I hope to God it wasn’t him that killed Gary.”

  “Why is that?”

  She wheels and takes a step toward me, a look of fierce hatred on her face. “Because if he did, I’ll have to kill him. Gary was the only thing keeping me going.”

  “How long had you two been carrying on?”

  Her eyes are blazing. “You make it sound like a cheap affair. But it wasn’t cheap. Gary treated me like I was valuable. He really loved me.” Almost exactly the same words Jessica Reinhardt used. Too bad Dellmore couldn’t have bottled that ability to make women feel special—everybody except his wife.

  “Was he going to divorce his wife? Were you going to leave Slate?”

  She whimpers, hugging her arms to her chest. “We were considering it. We knew it was going to make a big mess. We thought we had all the time in the world.”

  “Had he told his wife?”

  She wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Of course not! We were waiting for the right time before we told anybody.”

  “Whose idea was it to try to get LoPresto to buy your resort?”

  “That’s something you have to take up with Slate.”

  As I drive home, I remember that Barbara said Gary stayed with her so he had an excuse not to get too involved with anyone. Had Dellmore finally found someone he wanted to leave Barbara for? Did he tell Barbara he wanted a divorce? Or was Angel Bright indulging in wishful thinking? And was she telling the truth that her husband wouldn’t care if she was having an affair?

  Normally I would have called the Texas Rangers or the highway patrol to go out to the resort with me, but I want to get out there tonight, and they would’ve wanted to wait. Despite the fact that I warned Angel not to contact Slate and she promised she wouldn’t, by tomorrow morning she might’ve had second thoughts. She might have driven out to the resort to tell him I was onto him, and he might have disappeared. Zeke Dibble and I leave right after sundown. I bring sandwiches so we don’t have to stop to eat. I know Bill Odum would like to have been part of this, but I think Dibble is the better choice to come with me due to his experience.

  I never had much occasion to talk to Dibble. The few times I’ve been around him, he seems happy just to be a backup, but I notice a subtle change in his voice tonight, more authority in it, like he’s remembering what it’s like to be a practicing lawman. I asked him if he was coming armed and he seemed surprised by the question. “Of course I am. I’ve got a Luger. That’s what they used in the Houston PD before I left, and they let me buy the one I carried because they were phasing them out.”

  “Do you carry it all the time?”

  “In my glove compartment. I do some target shooting once a month. I like to stay sharp.”

  I’m glad I thought to bring bolt cutters, because the gate is still chained up. I cut the chain, open the gate, and drive through. It’s dark when I park the patrol car halfway up the road to the resort. Although it’s a moonless night like last night, I don’t feel the same sense of unease I did then.

  There are two vehicles parked in front of the resort—Slate’s SUV and an old Ford pickup. I expect the pickup belongs to Harold. I didn’t see any sign of him last night when Odum and I were out here, but he may have been parked in the back. I don’t like the odds of two geezers like Dibble and me having to face two younger, stronger men, but it won’t be the first time I’ve had to work with bad odds. If words fail to do the job, Dibble and I have our guns and the element of surprise on our side.

  I’ve worn my boots this time, and so has Dibble. No sneaking across the deck. Before I can knock, the door swings open. Harold McClusky stands in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.

  “How did you get past the gate?”

  “Is Slate here?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I need to discuss my business with him in person.”

  “Harold, bring him in.”

  “There’s two of them.”

  “Then bring both of them in.” There’s a touch of impatience to Slate’s voice, and I hear him walk toward the door.

  I step into the room.

  “What can I do for you?” Slate tries for a smile, but his eyes follow my gaze around the bare room. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and his hair is sticking out as if he’s been running his hands through it.

  I open my jacket so he can see my gun in the chest holster. I never was much for wearing a gun out in the open, but some show of force seemed appropriate tonight. “I’m here to talk to you about a couple of things. I had a good conversation with Angel this afternoon and I have a clearer understanding of what you and Dellmore were up to.”

  Slate laughs. “I don’t know what she told you, but there’s nothing for you to see here. We’re gearing up for renovations so we can get this place going again.”

  “Slate, you can’t keep your financial situation secret forever. You’ve got no intention of renovating this place, because you don’t have the money to do it.”

  “That’s not true,” Harold chimes in, sounding panicky. “Slate, tell him what you’re going to do.” Harold turns puzzled eyes at Slate, and all of a sudden I realize he’s been kept completely in the dark. He turns back to me. “Slate’s getting the hunting resort going again.”

  “Where are the animals?” Dibble says.

  Harold looks confused and again turns to Slate. “I thought nobody was supposed to know what happened to the animals.”

  “They got sick, didn’t they?” I say, directing my question to Slate. “That variation of foot-and-mouth that ran through a while back. Is that what happened?”

  “Look, can we…” He glances toward his brother.

  Harold looks wildly between Slate and me and blurts out, “We had to put some of the animals to sleep.”

  “And the others?” I ask Slate.

  He looks down at the floor. “We had to send them off to a quarantine facility.”

  “Cost you a lot of money, I’ll bet. That, along with the water park business going off, you were scrabbling for money.”

  “Slate, what is he talking about?” Harold says.

  Slate throws his hands out in appeal “We’ve had some problems, it’s true. Like Harold said, we had issues with the animals that had to be resolved. We have a certain length of time before we can bring animals back in, to make sure it’s safe for them. Now why don’t we come over here and sit down and have a drink and I’ll tell you the detai
ls.” Dibble and I follow him to the two armchairs, which he indicates we should sit in while he pulls up a stool from the side of the fireplace.

  Dibble and I say we don’t need a drink. Slate refills his glass with bourbon. Harold paces around with his arms folded while Slate spins a fine fantasy of his plans to spruce up the resort and then restock the animals. “You’re right. I’ve had some financial setbacks. But nothing I can’t work with. This resort has always been a big moneymaker. Once it gets going again, I’ll be back on my feet.”

  I nod as if I believe him. “Is that why you were trying to sell it to Gabe LoPresto?”

  McClusky’s leg starts to jiggle. His ever-ready smile is long gone, replaced with a wooden look as if the smile is the only expression he has practiced enough to use freely.

  “Here’s what I don’t understand,” I say. I see Dibble tense up, ready if there’s a problem. “Gary Dellmore was helping you try to rope LoPresto in. What happened that made you think you’d be better off with him dead?”

  Slate looks from me to Dibble, shaking his head. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Not only did I not have any reason to kill Gary, but him being gone has created a lot of problems for me.”

  “I thought maybe it was a jealousy thing.”

  “Jealousy?” He laughs low and mean. “What do I have to be jealous about? Angel can do what she wants to.”

  Harold stares at him. “Angel is nice to me.”

  Slate looks down into his drink, lips set in a grim line.

  “Slate,” I say, “I wonder if you have a job you might want Harold to take care of.”

  Slate looks at his brother for a second and I see him falter. “Yes, let me… uh, Harold, you remember we were going to take some of those animal heads over to Blanco and sell them to that antique place?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I’d like you to carry some of them out to your truck right now. We can take them over to Blanco first thing in the morning.”

  “Tonight?” Harold peers at the window. It’s pitch-dark and he sounds fearful.

  “I guess you’re right, it’s too dark right now. But why don’t you go get things set up for it? You know, in the spa we’ve got some blankets. I’ll turn on the power out there, and you can turn on the lights and gather up a bunch of blankets so we can wrap up those heads first thing in the morning.”