Circles in the Snow

by Patrick F. McManus

  “Right. But we’ve got another problem.”

  “And that is?”

  “How did Fester get out to the knoll?”

  Tully scratched his jaw while he thought. “He probably drove.”

  “So what happened to his vehicle? It drive itself back home?”

  Tully thought about this. “Good point, Lurch. You work on that one. I have enough problems at the moment.”

  “What I’m thinking, Boss, one other person had to be there that morning, the one who drove Fester’s vehicle away, maybe the same person who drove him out there. Maybe he’s the one who did the killing. If not, maybe he saw the killing. He either saw the killing or was supposed to come back later to pick up Fester, in which case he would have seen him dead in the snow with an arrow in his back. If he did, why didn’t he report it, unless he was somehow in on the killing?”

  “You drive me crazy, Lurch! But you’re right. There are at least two people out there who know exactly what happened, the killer and the person who drove Fester’s vehicle away.”

  “One more thing, Boss. You have any idea how I should go about checking the tread on all those pickup tires?”

  “Simple. Block some of the tires so the truck won’t roll. Then put it in neutral. Borrow a hydraulic jack on rollers. We have one around here someplace. See if you can find it. Jack the truck up so the tire is just off the ground. Give it a spin and look for a tread with that notch in it. If you find a notch that seems to match the notch on the tread on the skid trail, photograph it and make a cast of that part. Finally, chain up the steering wheel of the suspect truck so it can’t be driven. Or arrange for it to be hauled into our shop, if you find it.”

  “Is that all, Boss?”

  “Yeah. So you’d better get busy.”

  Daisy walked over to Lurch’s desk, carrying a phone book. “I found three Spokane archery stores in the Yellow Pages, Bo.”

  “Thanks, Daisy. I’ll check them in a moment.” Tully patted Lurch on the back. “Good work, young man. Now, when you get a chance, check the tires of all the three-quarter-ton pickups in Blight County. No, only kidding. Start with all the pickups you find at the Fester ranch. Like I said, I’ll call the foreman and tell him you’re coming out and for the hands not to bother you.”

  “If you say so, Boss.”

  “Oh, by the way, Lurch, were you able to find out from the TV weather person the time of the first snowfall at the crime scene?”

  “Yeah. Wendy Crooks, the weather girl, pinpointed it exactly for me from her files. It started on December third.”

  “Might as well give me the times.” Tully took out his notebook and pen.

  “The snowfall started at four fifty-five in the morning. They were both there at that time, according to the snow in the tracks in the woods and the snow on and under the victim. The victim was shot shortly after the snow started. That’s Pap’s calculation and I think it’s right on the money.”

  Tully stared at the Unit and shook his head. Then he turned and walked back to his office. Daisy said, “I put the phone book on your desk, with the Yellow Pages open to the archery stores.”

  “Good. Which is the biggest one?”

  “Ed’s Archery. They even give archery lessons for both men and women, as well as stock ‘the largest supply of archery equipment in the Inland Pacific Northwest,’ or so it says in the ad.” Daisy had indicated the quotation marks with her fingers.

  “Sounds like the kind of place I’m looking for.” He went into his office and wrote down the address for Ed’s Archery. “I’ll be driving to Spokane tomorrow to check on possible evidence.”

  “And here I thought it would be to pick up your twelve-thousand-dollar check.”

  Tully smiled. “That, too. I’m glad you mentioned it. But it won’t be twelve thousand dollars. My agent takes a hefty chunk out of it for her commission. But right now I have to go over to the medical examiner’s office to pick up an arrow. Then I’m headed up to Pine Flats. Get Brian on his cell phone and tell him I’m coming up and for him and Buck to wait for me at the café at noon. We’ll have lunch together. I’ll stop by the office before I head out.”

  “Gotcha, Boss.”

  The next morning, Tully arrived at the office early and unlocked a large metal locker. He took out three bulletproof vests, three 12-gauge pump shotguns, and a bag containing boxes of shotgun shells. As he was carrying this armload down to his Explorer, he met Daisy coming in. She was finishing off the remains of a sandwich. He thought he recognized the aroma.

  She frowned at him. “You be careful, Bo. That could be a mean bunch up there at Pine Flats. It produces some of the state’s finest criminals.”

  He grunted at her over his load. “I know. That’s why I’m taking Brian and Buck a little extra firepower. Nothing catches a bad guy’s attention so much as the sound of a shell being pumped into the firing chamber of a shotgun.”

  “Just remember that twelve-thousand-dollar check waiting for you in Spokane.”

  Tully smiled at the thought. “Oh, Daisy, you showed up just in time. I need someone to open my cargo door for me. The key is in my right-hand jacket pocket.”

  She reached into his pocket and got the key. He followed her down to the sheriff’s garage, where she opened the Explorer’s luggage hatch for him. He dumped in his load, closed the hatch, then turned and gave her a kiss on the mouth. She gasped. He’d been right, Egg McMuffin.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for several days,” he said, then got in the Explorer and drove off. She stared after him, softly rubbing her lips with the tips of her fingers.

  He pulled in next to the medical examiner’s office. He got out of the Explorer and tried the door. It was locked. He pushed a button and could hear a buzzer ring inside. He sighed and waited, his hands on his hips. Presently, several slats of the door shade were raised and Willy peeked out. He opened the door and let Tully in.

  “I see you’re taking more precautions than usual,” Tully said.

  “Yeah, ever since the ME realized we had a murder victim on our hands, she’s insisted the door be kept locked.”

  “Good idea. Willy, you got any idea if Susan has done any work on the arrow?”

  “I should let her tell you about it, but we did do a little research.”

  Just then Susan stepped through a curtained doorway. “Willy, get back to your job. I will handle all communications with the sheriff.”

  Willy scooted through a door and disappeared.

  “My goodness,” Tully said. “You are one stern boss. I’m surprised you have any employees left around here, particularly considering the kind of work you do.”

  “Well, Willy’s all right. He just needs a little nudge now and then to keep him in line, particularly when a nosy sheriff comes snooping around.”

  Tully laughed. “I wasn’t snooping, Susan. In fact, I haven’t snooped anything in years. I was investigating. Now could you possibly tell me what you found out about the arrow that killed Fester?”

  Susan seemed to think about this for a moment. “I should really give you a written report, but I will tell you a few things now. The arrow definitely killed him. It went through the upper part of his spine, sliced through his lungs and heart, and embedded itself in the back of his breastplate.”

  “Wow! That’s some force!”

  Susan nodded. “I’ll say it is. We tried to get an estimate of just how much force it would take to go through the spine and embed in the breastplate, so I had Willy go over to the slaughterhouse and pick up some sections of spinal columns from smaller animals and a few organs to duplicate those of Fester. Then we got an arrow similar to the one that killed Fester, the same length and the same arrowhead. Then we fixed up a rack on top of the arrow and placed weights in the rack until the arrow pierced through the vertebrae and organs to the same depth as the arrow in the victim’s breastplate.”

  Tully shook his head. “You people are amazing, Susan. So how much force was behind the arrow when it hit Fe
ster?”

  “At least forty pounds.”

  Tully thought about this. “Does that mean the bow would have had to have a forty-pound pull to it?”

  Susan pursed her lips. “I would think at least that. As I recall, you seemed to think the shooter was about twenty yards from the victim. I have no idea how much velocity an arrow shot from a bow with a forty-pound pull would lose over a distance of twenty yards, do you, Bo?”

  “Let me think about that. Not the slightest. I am visiting a large archery shop in Spokane tomorrow to find out what information I can about bows and arrows. Do you mind if I take the arrow with me?”

  “No, I don’t mind. We’re done with it. I’ll go get it for you.”

  Tully scratched his jaw. “Uh, Susan, would you mind wrapping it up in a towel and maybe tying some newspapers around it?”

  “Yes, we can do that. Has anyone ever told you what a wuss you are, Bo?”

  “Not when I’ve been armed.”

  Chapter 9

  Tully got up at five the next morning, ate a breakfast of instant coffee, cornflakes, and milk, and got in his Explorer for the drive to Pine Flats. He had been looking forward to the drive. The road led through a low mountain pass that was still covered with old-growth timber and laced with tumbling streams. Somehow the forest fires and logging early in the century had missed the pass. The road cut between sheer rock cliffs covered with moss. The snow was deeper here and large icicles hung gleaming from the cliffs above. He came to a turnout and pulled in. Faint blazes on a couple of towering firs marked the trailhead where as youngsters they had once set out on one of their wildest adventures. It had been June 18 nearly thirty years ago. There had been four of them, all in their early teens—Kenny, Vern, Norm, and Bo. They were headed toward a lake high up in the mountain. When they were halfway up the steep winding grade, a late blizzard blew in and caught them wearing nothing but tennis shoes and their summer clothes. Tully had thought they were going to freeze to death, when all at once they came upon a tiny log cabin built by a trapper during the latter half of the last century, when the closest town was nearly a hundred miles away. Tully still remembered a pencil note inscribed on one of the logs—“January 2, 1882, snow 6 feet deep on roof.” Tully would like to have seen the cabin again, but a friend of his told him the Forest Service had burned it down. So much for history. He pulled out on the highway and started driving again.

  He found Buck and Brian sitting at a table in the ratty little Pine Flats Café. They were studying the menu scrawled on a blackboard on the wall above them. They didn’t appear overjoyed.

  “What are you two frowning about?” Tully said. “This is the best of fine dining in Pine Flats.”

  Still looking at the menu, Buck said, “What do you suppose the little hand-scrawled picture of a skull and crossbones after ‘Lunch Special’ means?”

  “It means go with the burger and fries. Everybody knows that.”

  The waitress came over. She had a dead cigarette stuck to her bottom lip. She held up her pad, ready to write. “What’s it going to be, fellas?”

  “Three hamburgers, well done,” Tully said, sliding in beside Pugh. “And fries.”

  “Good choice,” the waitress said and left, tucking a pencil in a curl of reddish hair above her ear.

  “So,” Tully said to Pugh. “You guys pick up any leads on our fugitives?”

  “Maybe. The Burks claimed they have no idea where Milo and his friends might be hiding out, but the little old lady who lives next door was out getting her newspaper and stopped to talk to us. She turned out to be an eyewitness to the mess at the General Store. She said she knew all about it and said we shouldn’t believe a word Clyde Parker says. She saw Milo’s two friends go outside and they weren’t carrying anything. Milo came up toward the front of the store looking for them and carrying a six-pack of beer under his arm. She said Clyde jumped out from behind a row of shelves and grabbed Milo around the neck in some kind of wrestling hold and started screaming at him that he was trying to steal the beer. Milo has a quick temper. He spun around, jerked loose from Clyde, and punched him in the face, something the old lady said she had wanted to do for years. Knocked Clyde flat on his back on the floor. Then Milo walked out, leaving the six-pack on the floor. She said anything else Clyde might have told us is a lie. He kept screaming he was going to call the cops, and here we are.”

  Tully sighed. “I’m no fan of Clyde myself. But we’ve got to find the boys and talk to them at least. Did the lady have any idea where they might be?”

  “She said the only place she can think of, they might be hiding in the Burks’ summer cabin up on Deer Lake.”

  “I know Deer Lake,” Tully said. “I’ve fished there a couple of times. She say what side of the lake the cabin is on?”

  Pugh thought about this for several seconds. “The east side. She said in summer the sun comes up over the mountains right behind the cabin. It’s one of those chalet things.”

  “I think I know the cabin,” Tully said. “What’s the lady’s name, in case we need to speak to her again?”

  “Viola Hilligoss.”

  “You get her address?”

  Pugh pulled a slip of paper from his shirt pocket. “Yeah, 807 Cedar Street.”

  “I’ll stop by and talk to her.”

  As they started to drive out of Pine Flats, Tully said, “Hold on a minute. I just thought of something. Swing by the sawmill.”

  An hour later, they stopped on the edge of the road leading past the chalet. The three of them got out of the two cruisers and stood staring at the cabin. Tully said, “Pugh, you got a bullhorn with you?”

  “Yeah, Boss.”

  “Good. Let’s pull up in front of the cabin and get out on the side of the vehicle away from it, just as if we expect they might come out shooting.”

  Buck said, “You think they’ll come out shooting, Boss?”

  “No, but we’ll act as if we do.”

  “What if Milo and his friends aren’t staying in the cabin but somebody else is?”

  “Then we’ll scare the daylights out of them. That would be awkward but it might exercise their digestive tract.” He handed them each a pump shotgun. “Now don’t jack your guns until the boys are outside and can hear. The sound of a pump shotgun being loaded has a wonderful calming effect on miscreants.”

  They drove up the road and coasted to a stop in front of the cabin. The three of them slipped out on the passenger side, Tully pulling along the bullhorn. He aimed the horn at the cabin. “You! In the cabin! This is the police! Come out with your hands above your heads. Make sure your hands are empty!”

  No response. Then the door slowly opened and three young men came out, their hands raised high over their heads. Tully thought there was a certain blur around their hands from shaking. He turned to Pugh and Buck and whispered, “Don’t pump the guns. It might be too much.” He walked around the cruiser and opened a back door. The three young men lowered their hands and climbed in.

  “You want me to cuff ’em, Sheriff?” Buck asked.

  “Not just yet.” Tully slid into the front seat and turned to face the three villains.

  “Now here’s the deal,” he told them. “We’re not hauling you off to jail, at least not at this time.”

  “You’re not?” Milo croaked.

  “No, there was a witness to what happened at the General Store, and her word is more likely to be trusted than that of Parker.”

  “Whew!” Milo gasped. “I bet it’s Viola, our next-door neighbor.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Tully said. “But I’m not done. I’ve made certain arrangements down at the sawmill for the three of you.”

  “You did?” one of the friends asked. “At the sawmill?”

  “Yeah, I did. There are three jobs waiting there for you, one on the day shift, one on the night shift, and one on the morning shift. It’s the same job for all three of you, pulling off the green chain.”

  “What’s that involve, pulling off the g
reen chain?” Milo asked.

  “It’s a fun job. By the time you’re done with it, you’ll think college is the best thing that ever happened to you. By next September, you will be in the greatest shape of your life and will have earned enough money to get you through another two years of college. Higher education works a lot better when you pay for it yourself. You start tomorrow, by the way, so we’re dropping you off at your folks’, Milo. They’re going to be tickled pink to see how all this worked out for you. I’m pretty sure they’ll let the three of you live at the chalet. You’ll be able to fish off the dock in your spare time, if you feel like it.”

  “Gee, Bo, this is wonderful,” Milo said. “I thought we were done for. Thanks!”

  “Thank me after your first shift, Milo. You’ll be even more appreciative then.”

  After they had dropped off the men and were on the way to their motel, Pugh said to Tully, “I heard one time men drop dead pulling off the green chain.”

  “Oh, sure, but those are old men. Thirty or so. Not strapping young fellows like these three.”

  Chapter 10

  After spending the night at the Pine Flats Motel, Tully drove to Spokane and pulled into a parking lot next to Ed’s Archery. The building was huge and was probably owned by an archery expert or somebody who knew at least where an archery expert might be found. A large man approached him as he entered. “May I help you, sir?”

  Tully studied him for a moment. The guy definitely looked the type . . . a beard, camo shirt, and jeans. “Sir,” Tully said, “I’m Sheriff Bo Tully from Blight County, Idaho, and I need your help in solving a murder.”

  The clerk’s eyes widened. “A murder! Well, I doubt if I can be of much help with that.”

  Tully explained how Morgan Fester had been killed and showed the clerk the arrow. “Can you tell me anything about this arrow? It was used to kill a man.” He held it out to the clerk, who held up his hands and backed away.

  “Why don’t you just put it over here on the counter,” he said. “The light is better.”

  Tully smiled. “Good idea. I don’t like touching the thing myself.”