“That is reassuring, Michael. To know you’ll come by to check out any problems. But no doubt I was simply letting my imagination get carried away earlier.”
“That could be, but it never hurts to check things out.” Michael looked at her a minute before he added, “And if you do remember where you might have heard Jay Rayburn’s name, you will let me know, won’t you?”
“Of course,” she promised. “Wilson has just been so disturbed about it all. It’s simply not the kind of thing one expects to occur here in our little town.”
He agreed with her again, then thanked her as he began backing away with her words flowing after him down the porch steps. It had been awhile since he’d talked to Miss June one on one. When the judge was around, she let him do most of the talking, only smiling and nodding her support.
Michael couldn’t keep from smiling as he remembered what Aunt Lindy sometimes said about June. “Words spill out of that woman like marbles dropped on a hard floor. You just don’t know which direction they’re going to roll or if they’ll ever, please for mercy’s sake, stop.”
Michael made another round of the neighborhood but noted nothing in the least suspicious. Anthony was gone, and nobody else was out and about. Aunt Lindy would be in her rocking chair, grading papers. Reece and Alex would still be discussing Joe’s death and the sad state of affairs in Hidden Springs. Miss June’s front door was closed, and through a crack in the drapes he could see the flickering light of a television set. Michael rubbed his eyes and looked at his dash clock as he pulled out of the street. Ten thirty. He wanted nothing more than to go home, but he still needed to track down Anthony.
He drove by Anthony’s house. The boy’s car wasn’t there, and Michael didn’t have the energy to deal with the aunt. He’d talk to Vera tomorrow if he had to. Michael cruised around town, checking out all Anthony’s usual hangouts, but he was nowhere to be found.
Finally Michael gave up and headed home. One thing for sure, Anthony couldn’t hide forever. He’d find him, but he needed to do that before the killer decided the boy knew too much.
The next morning Michael made all the rounds again without luck and then waited at the school. Again he wasn’t really surprised when Anthony didn’t show up, but he was beginning to get worried. He almost wished they had arrested Anthony for stealing Bonnie Wireman’s laptop and put him in jail. At least then Michael might be able to keep him safe.
Buck was waiting for him at the office to compare notes, but neither one of them had much. A state police forensics expert was coming in later to go over Joe’s shop.
Betty Jean asked about Two Bits and then reported that Chief Sibley had called. He was going over to the hospital to be with Caroline. Seemed Paul was delirious.
“Nothing new about that,” Buck muttered.
“Where’s the sheriff?” Michael asked.
Betty Jean looked at the clock on the wall and then rolled her eyes at Michael. “Just because there’s been a couple of homicides, you don’t expect Uncle Al to change his schedule, do you? He’s eating Cindy’s biscuits up at the Grill.”
“How about the judge?”
“Him too or I miss my guess,” Betty Jean said.
“And the girl don’t miss her guesses very often,” Buck said.
Betty Jean gave him a sour look over her computer screen and went on talking to Michael. “Your kid was back in the hall this morning.”
“Anthony?” Finally Michael was surprised.
“The very one. I told him he could come on in the office and wait if he was looking for you. That made him flare up big-time. Said he wasn’t looking for nobody, and why couldn’t people just leave him alone?” Betty Jean’s eyes settled on Michael. “He said he just came in to use the public john and when was that against the law.” Betty Jean looked back down at her computer screen. “That boy has got a problem, but I don’t think it has anything to do with needing to find the men’s room.”
“Did he take off?”
“Like a shot.”
“You spot him again, Betty Jean, you radio me. I need to talk to him.”
“You think he knows something?” Buck looked over at Michael.
“Maybe. Maybe not, but I don’t want him to end up like Joe. Whoever we’re dealing with isn’t taking any chances.”
“Could it be the kid? He seems to always be around,” Buck said.
“What motive could he have?” Michael frowned.
“What motive does anybody in Hidden Springs have?” Buck said. “Admit it, Mike. We don’t know enough to even come up with an interesting guess as to what’s going on.”
Michael couldn’t argue with that.
“The most we can do is keep worrying the ends of these strings that don’t seem to go anywhere until something starts unraveling.” Buck pushed up out of his chair. “About the only good thing that’s happened around here since Monday is Little Osgood’s appendix busting like that. Now that was divine intervention if I ever saw it, and I guess you could say he’s the only one we can be absolutely sure about striking off the suspect list. Everybody else in Hidden Springs is fair game till we know better.”
“I liked suspecting the mob better,” Michael said.
“I think you can forget that.” Buck gave a sympathetic shake of his head. “I don’t think Joe ever had much cause to get on the wrong side of the mob, but have you heard the new idea going around this morning?”
“What’s that?”
“That it’s some psycho killer who’s knocking off people whose names start with J. Jim Deatin over at the auto parts store is talking about closing up shop and taking an extended vacation just in case.”
“Spare us, Buck, and get out of here.” Betty Jean glanced at him over her computer screen. “Some people have to work instead of sitting around yammering all day.”
“Hey, we’re working.” Buck laughed. “Got to consider every idea in our quest to protect the public. To protect you.”
“Wonderful. I feel so much better now that you’re after psychos with a thing about J first names.” Betty Jean made a face.
“It might not have to be a first name, Betty Jean, with this psycho J killer. Maybe you ought to go off with Jim. I hear he’s been sort of lonesome since his wife up and left him.”
Betty Jean calmly picked up her empty coffee mug and threw it at Buck. He caught it easily and set the mug back on her desk with a laugh. It was an old routine between them. “Guess I’ll mosey on up the street and lean on Leland. I hear he’s been out digging, and it’s time he learned to share.”
Michael wanted to leave the office and go lean on somebody too. But he didn’t know anybody to lean on other than Anthony, who was staying out of Michael’s sight. Besides, his desk was loaded down with routine work. Just because the town had been rocked by a couple of homicides didn’t mean everything else screeched to a halt.
The phone rang almost continuously, but Betty Jean had her spiel down pat. No, there were no new breaks in the case. Yes, the sheriff had everything under control. Yes, that was an interesting possibility. No, she couldn’t say whether the sheriff had thought of that yet, but she was sure he’d check it out. No, she didn’t know when the sheriff would be available to talk to them. Even after the sheriff came in, she said the same thing.
The sheriff paid no attention as he creaked his chair up and back enough to get on everybody’s nerves before he stood up and said he’d heard people were speeding out at the interstate exit. Since he knew Michael didn’t have time right now, what with the homicide investigation and all, to do much ticketing, maybe he’d go do some patrolling.
Betty Jean waited until he left to say, “Not to mention it’s Friday.”
“Friday?” Michael looked over at her, puzzled.
“Chicken and dumplings special out at the Country Diner. I’d go out there myself if Lester was here to cover the phones.”
Michael thought about mentioning her diet but thought better of it. “You heard from Lester since he we
nt out to the lake?”
“He’s called in a couple of times. To hear him, you’d think they were going to find sunken treasure. He hasn’t been this excited since the kids at school gave him that little trophy shaped like a whistle.”
“How long did the sheriff say they could keep diving out there?”
“All day. You have to pay them for a full day whether they work that long or not. Uncle Al believes in getting full return for the taxpayers’ dollars. By the way, you’ll have to go out there this afternoon so Lester can come do his crossing guard duty. I promised him you would.”
“Okay. I guess the city will have to pay for this since it was Paul’s baby.”
“Maybe so, but don’t forget, city taxpayers vote in county elections too.”
“Betty Jean, did anybody ever tell you that you are awfully cynical for a small-town girl?” Michael asked with a smile.
“Small town, big town. Politicians still want votes and voters still don’t like to pay taxes.”
The telephone rang again, and Michael went back to work on his report of the latest fender bender as Betty Jean started through her spiel. Suddenly she plunked the caller on hold, hissed at Michael, and pointed toward the hall. “There he goes.”
Michael was out from behind his desk and in the hall in a flash. Anthony took off, but Michael collared the boy at the front door without ceremony.
“What’s going on, Deputy?” The boy gasped as he attempted to pull away from Michael’s hold. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Nothing but skip school again.” Michael eased his hold on the boy’s arm but didn’t turn him loose. “It’s time we had a long talk.”
“So I skipped school. I keep getting sick.” Anthony’s face was closed tight. “What more do you want to know?”
“Whatever you know that you’re not telling about what’s going on around here. You don’t want to end up like Joe.”
“I can take care of myself.” Anthony was stiff, but he stopped trying to pull free.
“Sure you can, kid. But we’re still going to talk.”
“Okay. You’re the cop. If you want to talk, I guess I’ll listen.”
“Good choice.” Michael tightened his hold on the boy’s arm and propelled him back down the hall.
Stella Pinkston peeked out of the county clerk’s office and giggled.
“She’ll make a good witness when I take you to court for police brutality.” Anthony dragged his feet on the floor.
“You’re not taking anybody to court. Now be quiet and walk.”
“What’s going on out here, Mike?” The judge’s voice hadn’t quite gotten back to full boom, and his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them.
Before Michael could say anything, Anthony spoke up again. “Hey, Judge. Help me out here. Tell him to let me go.”
The judge ignored Anthony and kept his eyes on Michael. “Shouldn’t this boy be in school?”
“Yes sir. We’re getting ready to discuss that,” Michael said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got things under control.”
The judge nodded and retreated back into his office.
Anthony made a sound that was almost a laugh. “The judge doesn’t look happy. Are you happy, Deputy?”
“For somebody who doesn’t want to talk, you’re doing a lot of it.” Michael pushed the boy into the sheriff’s office.
Betty Jean was on the phone again. She looked up at Michael with relief. She put her hand over the phone. “Good. You didn’t leave.” Then she spoke back into the phone. “Stop shouting in my ear, Lester, and just calm down. I’ll send Michael on out. He’ll know what to do.”
Michael shoved Anthony down into one of the chairs and stood guard over him. He wasn’t about to let him slip away again.
When Betty Jean put down the phone, he said, “Don’t tell me they actually found a gun.”
“No. But they did find something.”
“Not another body.” Michael’s stomach tightened.
“Sort of. A car. The divers say it’s been there a long time, but they think somebody was in it. I guess I should say is in it. Or what’s left of them.”
Michael stared at her. “This has got to be a joke.”
“You wish.” Betty Jean reached for the phone book. “You’re going to need a wrecker.”
“I don’t think that will do it. Better hunt some kind of crane.”
Anthony stood up. “I guess that means you don’t have time to mess with me, Deputy. What say we cut it short? I promise to go to school and do what good little boys are supposed to do and stay out of your hair. Let you get back to important things.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Michael stepped in front of him.
“Why not? You can’t arrest me for skipping school.”
“I’m not arresting you. Just holding you in protective custody for a while. We’ll talk on the way out to the lake.”
“I told you, Deputy. You can’t make me talk.”
“So far my problem has been getting you to shut up.” Michael fingered the handcuffs on his belt. “Now, are you coming peacefully or do I get out the cuffs?”
Anthony shrugged a little. “I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what they found out there. Might be more fun than hanging around here. Besides, the guy at the paper has offered to pay me for any story leads I bring him.”
23
Michael locked Anthony in the backseat of the cruiser to give the kid the chance to get in a more cooperative frame of mind. The boy squawked a little, but when Michael paid no attention, he slumped down in sullen silence. Michael didn’t bother talking either as he headed out toward the lake.
They’d been on the road ten minutes when Anthony broke the silence. “Why aren’t you using your lights and siren?”
“Whoever’s in that car will still be there when we get there.”
“Who do you think it is?” Anthony tried to sound bored, but a little curiosity sneaked through.
“Nobody we know or somebody would have missed them a long time ago. Folks in Hidden Springs don’t just disappear.”
“That’s not what I’ve been told,” Anthony said.
Michael looked at the boy in his rearview mirror. “All right, Anthony. What have you been told?”
The boy’s face shut down. “Nothing you want to hear, Deputy.”
“Fine, but just so you know. The two of us are going to be constant companions until you tell me what I want to know. For your own safety.” Michael flashed his eyes between the road and the boy. Not exactly the best cross-examination situation. “And don’t try coming up with some cock-and-bull story, because I want to hear the truth.”
A blaze of challenge shot through Anthony’s eyes as he glared at Michael in the mirror. “Nobody in Hidden Springs wants the truth. They never have.”
“What say we give it a try? You tell me whatever you know and that might help us both figure things out.” Michael met the boy’s eyes in the mirror for a second.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Anthony looked down.
“You need to let me decide that.”
“Okay, I’ll come clean. I did skip school and you want to know why?” Anthony scooted up closer to the barrier between the seats. “Because school stinks. Now you have the truth. Satisfied?”
“I hope you like it back there.” Michael tried to sound like he was promising him ice cream cones and popsicles. “You may be there awhile.”
“What if I have to take a leak?”
“We’ll work something out.”
“Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just let go here in the backseat.”
“Then you’ll have to sit there in wet pants like a baby until we get back to the courthouse, where you’ll be obliged to scrub the seat.” Michael kept his voice cheerful and his eyes on the road.
Behind him, Anthony grumbled under his breath. Michael caught a few words now and again, but he ignored them. Let the boy grouse. Get it out of his system.
Michael turne
d off the main road and bounced through the ruts on the narrow gravel road down to the lake. A cloud of white dust chased after the car.
Some years back the county officials had talked about blacktopping the road with the idea that people might build summer homes down along the lakefront or bring in camping trailers. The only problem was that they couldn’t get Baxter Perry on board. Baxter owned most of the land along the road, and none of it was for sale. He wasn’t about to let a bunch of tourists move into his best hayfields. He didn’t care what anybody offered him an acre.
These days nobody besides Baxter used the road to the lake much except local fishermen and sometimes teenagers looking for a place to do things they shouldn’t. Michael occasionally patrolled the road on Friday and Saturday nights just to keep the kids straight, and as Lester had said, it was a good fishing spot.
He felt funny now thinking about the times he’d sat on the rocks dropping a line down in the water, thinking how peaceful and serene the place was, when all the while somebody had died in a car below his hook. Maybe everything he’d always believed about Hidden Springs was a polished-up illusion, and Anthony was right. Instead of hunting for the answers, could it be he was hiding from the truth?
Michael glanced up in the mirror at Anthony huddled against the door, staring out the window. They made a pair. Michael didn’t want to believe anything but good about Hidden Springs and Anthony nothing but bad.
The grappling fingers of the bushes along the road gave way to a wide clearing with a pull-off on the rock cliff towering over the lake. Lester’s car was sitting right in the middle of the clearing, his blue lights flashing round and round. A beat-up red pickup was parked over close to the edge of the cliff with ropes and cables spilling out over the lowered tailgate. Lester and another man stood at the cliff edge, peering down at a boat floating on the gentle bluish-green waters of the lake.
“Stay put,” Michael told Anthony.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.” Michael didn’t look around as he opened the door.
“How about rolling my window down back here?” Anthony scooted up and grabbed the barrier between him and the front seat.
Murder at the Courthouse Page 18
