The Rowdy Coyote Rumble (Jackrabbit Junction Humorous Mystery Book 4)

by Ann Charles

  “Did Grady mention what she did to land in jail in the first place?” Ronnie asked.

  “He was on his way into the office when he called me. He had only a few details at that point regarding the charges against her.” Butch turned toward Yuccaville. “All he knew for certain was the fact that she was in an accident.”

  “What?” Ronnie sat forward. “Is the baby okay?”

  “Yes. From what he’d gleaned, Kate caused the accident.”

  “That sounds fishy.”

  “Not really,” Claire said. “Just ask Butch about Kate’s history as a demolition derby driver.”

  Butch chuckled but then sobered. “Grady asked if Kate had spoken to me about a man staying at The Rowdy Coyote Motel who she calls the Polar Bear.”

  “Oh, no.” Ronnie gripped Claire’s headrest. “She didn’t.”

  Claire laughed in disbelief. “It sounds like she did.”

  “She definitely did,” Butch told them. “According to his deputy, Kate claimed to have accidentally hit the Polar Bear’s Harley Davidson during a sneezing fit. However, the deputy didn’t believe her sneezing story.”

  “Is that why he took her to jail?”

  “No, but Grady asked me if I’d realized she doesn’t have insurance.”

  “Can you go to jail for driving without insurance?” Ronnie sounded worried.

  “Not usually.”

  “Then why did Deputy Dipshit take her to jail?” Claire asked.

  “According to what Grady was told, his deputy jailed her for assaulting an officer. But Grady was making his deputy wait to write up the paperwork until he’d had a chance to hear both sides of the story.”

  “What did Katie do?”

  A grin rounded Butch’s cheeks. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What?”

  “I told you Carter babies make women a little deranged, right?” He tried not to laugh and failed.

  “I think someone needs to let Grady in on that fact,” Ronnie said.

  “What did Kate do to Deputy Dipshit now?”

  “She threatened to pull the back of his underwear up over his head in front of a crowd of onlookers.”

  Claire burst out laughing.

  “A wedgie?” Ronnie’s tone jumped up several octaves. “Katie got arrested for threatening to give the deputy a wedgie?”

  Butch nodded, laughing along with Claire.

  “And what did the Sheriff have to say about that?” Claire asked when she could speak again.

  “I think he was still too stunned to comment at the moment,” Butch said. “Other than telling me to stop laughing because it wasn’t funny.”

  “He’s right, it’s not funny. It’s downright hilarious.” Claire swallowed a bubble of laughter. “I’m sure it’s not every day that a pregnant woman gets hauled in for threatening to give one of his deputies a super wedgie and then refuses to leave the jail cell because she wants an apology first.”

  “Actually,” Ronnie said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if his Aunt Millie has done that very thing, minus the pregnancy part of course.”

  “Wait until Manny and Chester get a load of this.”

  Ronnie grabbed Claire’s shoulder. “You can’t tell them.”

  “This is a small town, remember? They’ll know the details by nightfall, especially since Chester is planning on heading over to pay Cherry a visit at the strip club.”

  “He’s spending a lot of time at her joint, isn’t he?” Ronnie let go of her shoulder, settling back in her seat. “You think it has to do with the naked women or the owner?”

  “Probably both.”

  Claire’s thoughts returned to Kate. Man, she wished she could have been in that parking lot to hear Kate tear into Deputy Dipshit. A hiccup of laughter made its way to the surface. Then several more. When they passed the Yuccaville city limits sign a few miles later, she was still wiping the tears from her eyes.

  The streets were mostly empty in town. Another sleepy Saturday morning for work-weary miners, no doubt.

  Butch parked in front of the Sheriff’s office. Claire could see the Sheriff inside sitting at his desk, holding his head in his hands. It was a regular Norman Rockwell painting in the making: Saturdays at the Sheriff’s Office.

  Straight face back in place, she climbed out of the pickup and followed Butch to the door. Ronnie brought up the rear, pausing to check her face in the passenger side mirror.

  “You look fine,” Claire told her, waiting at the door. “Let’s go get your crazy sister.”

  “Morning, Sheriff.” Butch led the way inside. “I’m here to transfer a prisoner.”

  The Sheriff looked up, his eyes bouncing from Butch to Claire and then Ronnie, where they seemed to get stuck.

  “I am not going anywhere,” Kate’s voice echoed out from the holding cells in back. “Not until his deputy apologizes.”

  Claire looked over at Deputy Dipshit sitting at his desk, his face full of thunderclouds and downpours.

  He pointed at Claire. “You and your sister need to be put away in a nut house. You’re both royal pains in my ass.”

  “You hear that, Kate?” Claire called. “Your deputy friend says we’re noble hemorrhoids.”

  “How is it, Sheriff,” Kate yelled, “that your employee can insult me and my sister, but when we insult him back, he gets to throw us in jail?”

  The Sheriff aimed a frown at Butch. “Carter, you need to go get that and remove her from this facility.”

  “I have rights, dang it,” Kate continued. “Claire, bring me a reporter from the Yuccaville Yodeler.”

  “You will not,” the Sheriff warned Claire, his tone keeping her feet locked in place. “Kate,” he hollered back, “I asked you nicely to quiet down and you agreed, remember?”

  “Yes, but you also promised you’d bring me ice cream, and I’m still sitting here without the taste of frozen milk in my mouth.”

  “She has low blood sugar in the morning,” Ronnie defended Kate. “It makes her a little cranky.”

  The deputy snorted. “Cranky? She’s a downright—”

  “That’s enough!” The Sheriff’s gravelly voice lowered menacingly, taking control, demanding respect. “This is not Mayberry or a Marx Brothers’ movie.” He aimed a finger at Deputy Dipshit. “You went too far this morning.”

  “But she started it.”

  “And I’m ending it. As of today you’re on temporary leave.”

  “What?” Deputy Dipshit pushed to his feet, his face turning blotchy with red splotches. “You can’t do that to me. You know who my dad is.”

  “Yes, I know exactly who your father is. I’m sure when he gets word that you cuffed and hauled a pregnant woman to jail for arguing with you in front of a crowd of local citizens, he’ll agree that you need a break.” When Deputy Dipshit sputtered, the Sheriff raised his palm for silence. “Ernie, the stress of your state exams is getting to you. Now leave your badge and firearm on the desk and go home.”

  “Fine!” The deputy tore off his badge and slammed it down on his desk along with his firearm. “I’ll go. But I’m not apologizing to that stupid psycho bitch.”

  Butch bristled visibly. “Is Ernie off duty now, Grady?”

  The Sheriff nodded.

  “Good.” In two strides, Butch was in the deputy’s face. “You watch your mouth, you spoiled brat.” Claire’s eyes widened at the hostility in Butch’s tone. She’d never seen Butch tear into someone before. He was usually cool and calm, playing the peacemaker role. “I don’t give a shit about your daddy being the mayor. If I catch you bullying Kate again, I’ll fuck up your world so much that your daddy will ship you off to another state just to keep his job.”

  Deputy Dipshit retreated, using his desk as a barricade. “Are you going to let him talk to me like this, Sheriff?”

  “Threatening to mess up someone’s world is not a detainable offense.” The Sheriff sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Go home, Ernie. Get some rest. Take some time to think through your acti
ons over the last two weeks. When you’re ready to talk, give me a call. We’ll go to lunch.”

  The deputy snatched his jacket off the wall, trading glares with Butch the whole way out the door.

  When the doors closed, the Sheriff leaned his elbows on his desk and looked down the corridor leading to the cells. “Kate,” he called.

  “What?”

  “Ernie has left the building. You can come out now.”

  There was a clang of metal on metal, then footfalls on the concrete. Kate stepped out into the main office, dressed in her baby blue pajama pants and an oversized Dancing Winnebagos R.V. Park hooded sweatshirt. “Sorry about the mess, Grady.” She included Ronnie and then Butch in her apologetic frown, ending with Claire. “I sort of have no patience when it comes to your deputy.”

  “Apparently the feeling is mutual. Tell me something, Kate,” the Sheriff said, moving around to sit on the front corner of his desk. “Why did you hit that man’s motorcycle?”

  “Like I told your deputy, it was an accident.”

  “We both know that’s not the case. Remember,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ve been at the scene of an accident with you before, Crash Morgan. I know all about your ability to twist the truth.”

  Kate’s forehead turned pink. She looked back toward the jail cells, chewing on her lower lip. “Would you believe me if I told you that the guy who owns that bike is a dangerous criminal?”

  “Yes.”

  Claire did a doubletake. He would? He did? “Why do you believe her?” she asked him.

  “The motorcycle owner didn’t want to press charges against your sister or pursue further investigation into the accident.”

  Butch rubbed his jaw. “Why not?”

  “Unfortunately I wasn’t there, so I’m not sure.”

  Kate collected her personal possessions from the tray on the Sheriff’s desk. When she finished, she looked over at Butch. “As soon as Deputy Di … Ernie showed up on the scene, the Polar Bear got antsy. He mumbled something about not thinking I’d meant any harm and that his bike wasn’t worth enough to get his insurance company involved.” She focused back on the Sheriff. “Both of those are outright lies.”

  “Didn’t that strike the deputy as odd?” Ronnie asked her.

  “He was too busy fighting with your sister,” the Sheriff answered first. “That’s why I gave him some time off. If he’d been focused, he should have found that more of a concern than Kate’s false account.”

  Ronnie grunted in agreement. She walked over to the front plate glass window, frowning out at the world. Judging from her stiff spine, Claire had a suspicion Ronnie was hiding something more worrisome than what plans the motorcycle owner might be thinking up as revenge for his dead bike.

  “That son of a bitch shouldn’t have parked illegally in that handicap stall,” Kate muttered.

  Claire grinned. “Is that what set you off, Crazy Kate?”

  “I’ll have you know that there are people who are truly in need of those front row spots.” Kate’s chin lifted. “The rest of us play by the rules. What gives him the right to ignore them?”

  “Where’s Kate’s car?” Butch asked, taking her hand and not letting go.

  “In the tow yard out back.”

  “Are you done with it?”

  The Sheriff nodded once. “Since no charges have been filed, there’s no reason for us to hold it.”

  “I’ll have someone come and get it, haul it out to my place. Send me the towing bill for getting it here.” His focus turned to Kate. “How bad is it?”

  “The front is a mess.” She grimaced, leaning down to rub her calf muscle. “That big asshole dented the hood with his fist, too. But at least the air bags didn’t deploy this time. That’ll save me some money.”

  “Her keys are hanging on the wall.” The Sheriff glanced over at the open lockbox with keys dangling inside.

  “Are we free to go then, Grady?” Ronnie asked, still staring out the front window.

  He looked over at Ronnie, his eyes narrowing. Claire had an idea he was picking up warning flares from Ronnie’s body language, too. “Sure, but don’t go far. I’ll want to talk to you later.”

  That snagged Ronnie’s attention. “Me or Katie?”

  “Both of you. But first I have to get the paperwork on this morning’s fiasco written up.” His focus shifted to Kate. “Then I’ll do some digging on this man you think is the hitman known as the Polar Bear.”

  “I’m telling you, he’s the one.”

  “Well, if you’re right, you sure made it easier to catch him now that you took his Harley out of commission.” He exchanged a look with Ronnie that gave Claire the idea the two of them had already put their heads together about the hitman. “If this guy really is a notorious hitman, we have a bigger problem than a smashed up car and bike.”

  Ronnie held her clenched fingers up to her mouth. “What do you suggest we do, Grady?”

  “Lay low and stay out of Yuccaville for a couple of days, especially you and Kate.” His gaze shifted to Kate. “After the stunt you pulled this morning, he’s probably fantasizing about wringing your neck.”

  “He can fantasize all he wants,” Kate shot back. “Where does Ruby keep her guns, Claire?”

  The Sheriff grimaced.

  Claire snorted. “No way am I letting you touch Ruby’s guns, spaz. Not with your instant rage button on the fritz. You’ll shoot Chester or me and claim it was another so-called accident.”

  “Katie,” Ronnie cut in, “you can’t sleep alone in Gramps’s Winnebago anymore.”

  “Maybe she should move in with Chester,” Claire suggested, trying to keep a straight face. “All of that chili con carne he eats works as a chemical weapons force field.”

  “I have a bed,” Butch said. “It’s big, soft, and safely tucked away behind a top-rated alarm system.”

  “I’m not sleeping in your bed just because of this, Valentine,” Kate said huskily, not meeting his gaze.

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “Who said I was talking about my bed? I have two fully furnished spare rooms, remember?”

  If mortification came as a paint, Kate would have been three coats thick in red. “I’m sorry, I was just … I thought …” She blew out a breath and shot Claire a help-me look. “Can we go now? I’m hungry.”

  Claire took pity on her and swooped in to the rescue. “Sure. Manny has pancakes waiting for me when I get home. Maybe I’ll share one with you.” She pulled open the door and held it wide for Kate.

  “You mean Manny Carrera, our new stepfather?” Kate accused more than asked, pausing on the threshold in front of Claire. “A fact that you and Ronnie forgot to share with me?”

  “That was Ronnie’s responsibility.” Claire glared at her older sister, who was having a heated stare-off with the Sheriff.

  Butch draped his arm around Kate’s shoulders, leading her out into the sunlight. “Let’s go, Baby Momma. As soon as you get some pancakes in your stomach, we have a bar to restock and open for another exhausting day.”

  Visibly shaking off the Sheriff’s spell, Ronnie said, “Maybe we should postpone tonight. I have a feeling I’m going to need to help out at the bar.”

  What was supposed to happen tonight?

  With a sigh, the Sheriff nodded. “I’ll stop by around closing if I can.”

  With a nod, she rushed past Claire, who stared after her with a frown. What in the hell was going on with her?

  Claire shook her head and smiled. “I’m sorry for all of this, Grady.”

  He waved off her apology. “Do me a favor, will you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Keep a close eye on Veronica.”

  “Why?” What did the Sheriff know that she didn’t?

  “According to the FBI, thanks to her ex-husband she has some new targets on her back.”

  * * *

  Late that evening, Claire slid her coat on, thinking about how good it would feel to crawl into bed next to Mac, who had gone home
a couple of hours ago after almost falling asleep in his drink. This morning’s adventure at the cop shop sponsored by Crazy Kate seemed like a month ago rather than mere hours.

  The Shaft had kicked Claire’s ass tonight, the crowd holding out until closing this time. Her ears still rang from the noise.

  “I’m heading out,” she told Ronnie, who was next to the front door finishing up the last of the mopping. “You sure you don’t want me to wait for you and Kate?”

  “Yeah.” Ronnie glanced toward the swinging doors that led back to Butch’s office. “Butch offered to take Katie and me home when we’re finished.”

  “She should quit being so silly and stay with Butch.”

  “I know that and you know that, but I get the feeling she’s holding back for some reason. She can sleep with me tonight.”

  Claire shrugged. “Her loss. Butch smells better than you.” She laughed and dodged when Ronnie threatened to hit her with the wet, looped-end mop head. “See you back at the R.V. park.”

  She stepped out into the cold night, zipping her coat up to her chin to keep out the freezing air. She sniffed, the smell of cooked burgers branded on her olfactory cells. Butch really needed more help, or a bigger place to hold everyone, or both.

  She crossed the lot to where Ruby’s old Ford was parked in the back at the edge of the shadows, pulling out the keys to unlock the door as she neared. Footfalls crunching in the gravel behind her didn’t surprise her. “You change your mind?” she asked her sister.

  The sound of a shotgun being cocked made the spit dry in her mouth. She knew what that sound meant all too well. After facing off with Sophy in that old shed, Claire had endured weeks of nightmares filled with it.

  It wasn’t her sister.

  Claire froze, raising her hands in the air, the keys dangling from her fingers.

  “I’m gonna need a ride into town,” a familiar voice said.

  Before Claire had a chance to turn around and assess how deep good old Shit Creek was at this particular crossing, something slammed into the back of her head, dropping her to her knees.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mop in hand, Ronnie slowly backed out the front door of The Shaft, trying not to slosh the dirty mop water on her boots. She set the bucket down on the concrete walkway and paused at the crunching sound of someone walking across the gravel coming from the mostly empty parking lot.