The Tamarack Murders

by Patrick F. McManus

  Vera looked at Angie. “Did I do it right?”

  Angie smiled at her. “You did it perfect, Vera. Just remember what Bo said. At the first shot, you hit the floor, and stay there until I tell you it’s okay to get up. Got it?”

  “Got it, Angie.”

  Tully opened his door and got out. He could see the front end of the silver Land Rover poking out from the other side of the tower. The other Explorer growled up behind them and stopped. Tully waited for the M.E.‘s van to arrive. He walked back and opened the hatch door to the cargo area and took out Dave’s rifle and his own. Pap came up and claimed his. Angie was checking her automatic. She worked the slide to chamber a round.

  Pap said, “The four of us going to walk up to the tower side by side like the shootout at the OK Corral?”

  Tully said, “I don’t think so. They could have heard us climbing the mountain for the last half hour. We have the road blocked, so there’s no way they can get out. I suspect they’ll be waiting for us. Angie, you and Pap take rifles and cover Dave and me as we move up toward the tower. That lookout cabin isn’t going to give our friends up there much cover in a shootout, and I hope they know that. There’s a walkway all around the cabin, and there are large windows on all four sides. In order to get a shot at Dave and me, they’ll have to come out on the walkway. You know what to do if they come out armed. FBI, you’d better use Dave’s rifle and let him use your automatic.”

  Angie handed the pistol to Dave and took his rifle.

  “You know how to run one of these?” Dave asked Angie.

  “Just point and shoot, right? It’s been a while, but I can figure it out. Let’s see, the bullet comes out the little round hole at the other end, right?”

  Angie levered a shell into the chamber. She and Pap walked up to the front of the Explorer so they could brace their arms on the hood.

  Walking cross the open area below the tower seemed to Tully like the longest walk he had ever taken in his life. The one good sign he noticed, no smoke came out of the cabin’s chimney. Either the occupants were asleep or had somehow snuffed out the fire when they heard the little caravan coming up the mountain. They reached the tower stairs.

  He glanced at Dave. “What do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “About climbing the stairs?”

  Dave scratched his chin. “Well, Sheriff, now that I think about it, I’d like you to go first. I’ll be right behind you, covering your butt.”

  “It’s not my butt I’m worried about.”

  “What are you worried about? Usually, I’m not all that interested in your worries, but in this case, they might affect me.”

  “I’m worried about some ignoramus lunging out of the cabin and spraying these stairs with an automatic weapon.”

  Dave appeared to be turning this over in his mind. “In that case, maybe I should wait at the bottom of the tower.”

  Tully jerked his Colt Commander from his shoulder holster and started up the stairs, walking on the toes of his boots. He could hear Dave close behind, walking on the toes of his boots, even though the suspects could have heard them coming for the last hour. They reached the walkway with no threat from inside. Then Tully saw the cabin door had been kicked in, its glass broken, the wood frame splintered where the lock had been torn loose.

  He stuck his boot out and shoved the door wide open. Snow had drifted in and left a streak of white across the floor. He stepped in quickly, pistol leveled, his finger on the trigger.

  Horace Beeker and Ed Dance were seated on a cot, their heads leaning back against a window sill, their mouths gaping. Their upper halves were soaked with blood. Each had been shot multiple times. Beeker had a pistol clutched in his hand. Dance had one in his lap.

  Tully straightened up. Dave walked up alongside him. “Well, I guess we didn’t have to worry so much about these two.”

  Tully looked slowly around the cabin. “Well, no sign of the loot. I suspect that may have been the motive for killing our two friends here.” Dave reached out with the automatic and used it to lift a jacket lying between Beeker and Dance. Another pistol was under the jacket. They had obviously been taken by surprise, eating a meager meal from a can of pork’n’beans they had been passing back and forth. Dirty spoons lay beside them.

  “I’ll probably never eat pork’n’beans again,” Dave said.

  “Me neither.” Tully pointed at the pistols. “I suspect one of those was used to kill the old couple. What do you think, Dave?”

  “You don’t think the same guy did these two?”

  “Could be, but I don’t think so. Lurch should be able to tell us who shot whom, when we get the bullets from Susan. I suspect our dead friends here did the old couple, probably to keep us from knowing about the tower.” He pointed to two rifles leaning against the wall. “If those are both seven millimeter, we may have the weapon that killed Vergil. Lurch should be able to figure out from the fingerprints which rifle belonged to Beeker and which to Dance, and then we’ll know which one of them shot Vergil.”

  “You’re pretty sure one of them did?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  Tully heard a sound at the door and spun around. Vera was standing there with Susan. “Oh, my goodness!” she gasped. “I am just so glad you let me come along. Thank you, Bo, thank you! This is my first crime scene ever!”

  “No problem,” Tully said. He thought maybe he should hire Vera for the department. Most of his deputies were wimps. It might be good to have someone in the department who was actually bloodthirsty.

  Chapter 15

  Bo spent the rest of the weekend sleeping at his house. Monday noon he stumbled into the office. As he walked across the briefing room, Daisy smiled at him. “You’ve got a visitor, boss. She nodded toward the glassed-in wall of his office. A gray-haired lady sat in one of his chairs. She had very good posture, her back straight as an arrow, all business. Jan Whittle! Principal of the Delmore Blight Grade School and Middle School. With the downturn in the economy, the middle school had been added to her duties as principal. He and Jan had been boyfriend and girlfriend in sixth grade. As far as he could recall, they had never spoken even once in sixth grade, but that was the way of sixth-grade romance back then. She had grown into a stern but interesting woman. Too bad she was still married to Darrel Whittle, the oaf of a district attorney, because he wouldn’t mind dating her. This time they might even talk. He had no trouble guessing what had brought her to his office.

  Opening the door he growled, “No, Jan, absolutely not!”

  She turned to glare at him. “You most certainly will, Bo! You’re sheriff of Blight County!”

  He slid into his chair. “Every fall Glenn Cliff runs off to the mountains, and I have to hunt him down. Last fall I found him holed up in an abandoned logging camp. He’ll know better than to go there again. “He’s probably built himself a wickiup somewhere even deeper in the mountains this time.”

  “Bo, he’s just a kid. He’ll die up there. The snow will trap him on some mountain and he won’t be able to get out.”

  “What’s your point, Jan?” he said, earning himself another glare. He studied her, pretending to think about the Cliff boy. She was very nice looking, in a fit and serious sort of way. On the other hand, he was a year older. So was Glen, about thirteen now. The kid spent summers stashing away food and gear up in the mountains, preparing for his yearly getaway in the fall, his escape from school, which bored him nearly to death. This would be Tully’s third year of tracking him down. The thought made him shudder.

  Jan took a handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Don’t cry, Jan. I’ll go find the little . . .”

  “I wasn’t crying, Bo! I just had something in my eye!”

  Ah, the old something-in-my-eye ploy. “I only happen to have a bank robbery and five murders to tend with at the moment, so I’ll drop everything and go hunt Glen Cliff. But this is absolutely the last time, Jan!”

  She smiled.
“You say that every year, Bo.”

  “I guess I do. This year though, you have to buy me dinner at Crabbs. That’s if I find Glen, of course.”

  “Bo, I would love to buy you dinner anywhere you name! And any time!”

  “How about the Space Needle in Seattle?”

  She thought for a moment. “That sounds more like a proposition.”

  “I meant it to. How are you and old Darrel getting along these days?”

  “Fine, now that we’ve decided to get a divorce.”

  Tully tugged on the corner of his mustache. “That usually helps. You still living together?”

  “You’re awfully inquisitive.”

  “That’s part of a sheriff’s job.”

  Jan laughed, then turned serious. “Do you have any idea where Glen might be?”

  “Not the foggiest. We have about ten thousand square miles of mountains in Blight County and he could be hiding out on any of them. But it so happens I ran into him this summer fishing up on Boulder Creek, which as you probably know comes tumbling down out of the mountains north of town. It levels off a couple of miles up the creek and there’s a nice meadow there. If I were to run away to the mountains, I think I’d head for the meadow on Boulder Creek.”

  “You thought about doing this when you were Glen’s age?”

  “Then and now.”

  Jan smoothed her skirt over her rather nice thighs. “So if you were to take off this minute, Bo, you would head for that meadow?”

  He was silent for a few moments. Jan said, “Bo?”

  “Sorry. I was just building my self a nice little wickiup on the edge of the meadow. I’d fish the creek and hunt game for food. There’s gold in the creek, too. If I had time I might even find the mother lode. It would be a lovely way to live, Jan? You interested?”

  “I’ll have to think about that, Bo. No!” Jan smiled. “So when do you think you will head off to look for Glen.”

  Tully stared at her, then laughed. “As soon as I can catch the next flight to Boulder Creek.”

  “You’re hopeless, Bo!”

  “I know, but I mean it about the flight.”

  After Jan left, he walked to the door. “Daisy, see if you can find the number for the Diamond W loggingtruck dispatcher and ask him to patch me through to Pete Reynolds.”

  Daisy smiled and shook her head. “I guess Pete can’t escape you even when he’s out driving loads of logs down a mountain.”

  “No one escapes me, Daisy, any time or any place. You know that.”

  He walked over to Lurch’s corner. “You get any matches on the bullets that did Beeker and Dance.”

  “Yeah. They match the forty-five we picked up from Shanks. Susan sent me the bullets recovered from the old couple, too, boss.”

  “Great, Lurch! I figured she would.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t match either pistol found with Beeker and Dance. Maybe they dumped that gun somewhere. The rifle that killed Vergil Stone belonged to Beeker. He was the shooter on Chimney Rock Mountain. At least the rifle that has his prints on it is the same one that shot Vergil. The test slug matches the bullet recovered from the vic’s body.”

  Tully nodded and pulled up a chair next to the Unit. “Shut down your computer a minute, and I’ll give you benefit of my profound thought processes.”

  Lurch shut off his computer.

  Tully clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “First of all, the old lady in the double-wide was either a Beeker or a descendent of Beekers. She might have known Horace Beeker as some kind of family relation. I suspect most of the Beekers had fallen on hard times since losing the ranch or whatever happened that Beekers no longer own it. The old lady might have suspected that Horace Beeker was hiding out from something or someone. I’ve got Daisy checking with the corporation that owns the ranch. Somebody will know what the old people were doing there, watching over the mansion or whatever. Maybe Beeker didn’t want the woman to identify him and give him up to whoever might be looking for him. So he killed her and the old man just to be on the safe side. Beeker and Dance, of course, didn’t want Harold or Alma giving away their hideout, so that, too, could be the motive for killing them. If they needed a motive.”

  Lurch nodded. “Sounds about right. I guess if you get started killing, another one more or less doesn’t bother you all that much.”

  Tully stared at him. “That’s why you don’t get to carry a gun, Lurch.”

  “I thought it was because of my eyes.”

  “That too. My opinion is that the main reason Beeker or Dance shot them, hardly anyone knew about the lookout tower on Round Top, and he wanted to keep it that way. The tower made the perfect hideout. They could hang out there until the search for them let up.”

  Lurch frowned. “If it was so perfect, how come Beeker and Dance ended up dead?”

  “Details, Lurch, details. I’m pretty sure I know who shot them. All we need is some proof.”

  “I think we have the proof, boss. The bullets that killed Beeker and Dance match the test bullets I got from one of the pistols you picked up from Shanks.”

  Tully nodded. “That’s great, Lurch! So we can nail him for two murders, even though he’ll probably plead self-defense.”

  “I thought so. You going to let me carry a gun now?”

  “No.” Tully stared off into space.

  “What are you thinking, boss?”

  “I’m starting to think converging incidentals aren’t merely incidentals. As a matter of fact, I’m headed out to Shanks’s place right now.”

  Lurch got up to leave. “You going to arrest him?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to arrest him.”

  “On what charge? Murder?”

  “Yes, murder. A double murder. And a convergence.”

  Lurch gave him a puzzled look. “A convergence of what, boss?”

  “Beats the heck out of me. Just a convergence, Lurch. Maybe a convergence of fingers, all of them are pointing at Gridley Shanks. This all started with the partial fingerprint you turned up on a piece of flagging tape. To explain the flagging tape, Grid said he used it to mark his property so two men could hunt elk there. One of them was Beeker, who said he saw a herd of deer that came through hours before he claimed to be on the mountain. Then the Beeker name led us to the Beeker Ranch and four murdered people, including Beeker and Dance. Then . . .”

  “Stop, boss! I get the idea! What did you call it?”

  “A convergence. Lines of suspicion that all converge on Gridley Shanks.”

  Lurch shook his head. “Too complicated for me, boss.”

  “Well, I’m headed out to Shanks place right now to arrest him on suspicion of murdering Beeker and Dance.”

  Chapter 16

  The road leading into Shanks’s house was still bright yellow with fallen needles from the tamarack trees. Tully almost hated to drive on it, as if he were somehow desecrating a work of literature. He blinked. Danielle Stone was standing in front of the house, watching him. What was she doing here?

  “Danielle!” he exclaimed as he stepped out of the Explorer.

  “Hi, Sheriff. I’m here exploring my new property.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She laughed. “I don’t understand either. Grid had his lawyer draw up some legal papers that made the property mine. Believe me, Sheriff, it’s not that great a gift. I was trying to figure out what I can get when I sell it. Not that much, I’m afraid.”

  Tully look around. “So where are Grid and Sil going to live?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Grid will figure that out when he gets back.”

  Tully glanced into the woodshed. The ATV was still there. “Get back from where?”

  “Beats the heck out of me. He packed up Sil, and she took off on a trip around the world. She should be in Australia by now. Grid’s been talking about a round-the-world trip for years, but I never thought he was serious. He should have sent me with her.”

  Tully thought about this. Afte
r a bit he said, “Yeah, he should have found a way to include his own daughter.”

  Danielle frowned at him. “Daughter! What do you mean, daughter? That’s sick! Grid has been my lover for the past five years. No way I’m his daughter. I know exactly who my parents are!”

  Tully leaned against the hood of his Explorer. He had known Grid was a confidence man and a good one, he just hadn’t realized how good. He must have come into a fair amount of money recently, sending Sil on a round-the-world trip. Giving his place to Danielle. More lines of convergence. Who ends up with the loot? Who has a motive for killing Beeker and Dance?

  Danielle said, “Yeah, Grid’s been supporting me and Vergil for years. He brought us groceries and more fruit and vegetables than we could ever eat. I tell you, Sheriff, I’ll never eat another banana as long as I live. And he kept Vergil supplied with cash. Said he was starting to think of him as his own son, not that he seemed all that upset when Vergil got killed.”

  Tully studied the widow Stone. She looked as if she were perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “Listen, Danielle, if you need any help, just give me a call, okay?”

  She eyed him thoughtfully. “You bet, Sheriff. By the way, my friends call me Danny.”

  “Danny. I like that.”

  Another piece of the Gridley puzzle had fallen into place. There’s a bank robbery. Three of the robbers are eventually killed. The loot disappears. Grid suddenly has enough money to send Sil on a round-theworld trip. “By the way, Danielle, do you have any idea how Gridley suddenly came into enough money to pay for a trip around the world?”

  She laughed. “Sure. He’s rich. He owned houses in town, farms out in the country, all kinds of ranch and grazing land. He sold most of it over the last year. He’s at least a millionaire, probably several times over.”