Chapter 28
I was so shaken by what I’d realized that I didn’t pay much attention to Big Bill’s explanation about how Mike came to be Small Bill’s son. I think amnesia and dedicated work from private detectives were hinted at, if not spelled out, but I wasn’t offended. The true story wasn’t really anybody’s business, including mine. I just stood there, and I must have turned white or gone stiff or something, because Richard noticed something was wrong.
“Laura?” he said, looking suspiciously at my cup of punch. “Are you okay?”
“Yes and no,” I said. “Just act natural; I want to talk to Junior, but I don’t want anybody to hear us.”
“Whatever you say,” he said, and did a much more credible job of acting normal than I did. Fortunately, I don’t think anybody noticed in all the commotion. Eventually, I saw Junior saying good-bye to the Walterses, and I tugged Richard’s arm so we could follow her without it looking like we were following her.
Only when we were outside did I quietly say, “Junior, we need to talk.”
“Have you found out something?” she asked.
“Maybe, but I can’t talk about it here. Can you come over to Aunt Maggie’s house? Right now?”
She nodded, and we headed for the cars. Junior must have realized I was worried about our being seen together, because she turned the wrong direction for going to Aunt Maggie’s, no doubt planning to go the long way around.
Richard, bless his heart, offered to wait until we got to Aunt Maggie’s so I’d only have to go through it once, and even drove, which gave me a chance to go furiously over all the facts in my head, trying to see if my theory made any sense at all. We decided not to pick up Alice right away—the upcoming discussion wasn’t one I wanted to have in her hearing, whether she could understand it or not.
Aunt Maggie had gone out, which was a relief. I didn’t want to stir her up until I was more certain of my facts. Richard and I got out of our funeral clothes and had cold bottles of Coke ready when Junior got there.
“What have you got?” she said, which showed how anxious she was. A Southerner like Junior would never have skipped the polite preliminaries without good reason.
“It’s not much,” I warned her and Richard. Starting with what I’d seen at the Walters house, I backtracked to show how my suspect could have done everything we knew about, and concluded with, “I know there’s no proof, but if I’m right, Big Bill is in more danger than ever.”
Neither Junior nor Richard said anything at first. Then Junior said, “That could be the answer.”
Richard was nodding, too. “Now that we’ve got a name, can’t you find proof, Junior?”
“I don’t know how,” she said. “Belva and I already did everything we could think of.”
“This is insane,” Richard said. “We know who it is, but we can’t do anything?”
Junior corrected him. “We think we know.”
“Laura’s never been wrong yet,” Richard said loyally.
“Sure I have,” I said, “but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“I think Laura’s right, too,” Junior assured us, “but that doesn’t give us enough evidence for a trial, or even probable cause for an arrest.”
“ ‘Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises’,” Richard said disconsolately. “All’s Well That Ends Well, Act II, Scene 1.”
“I can’t say that this is ending well,” Junior said, “but it may be how it has to end. I don’t think it would do any good, but I could go talk to—”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “You’ll give us away. This isn’t some loose cannon like Sandie Herron—this is somebody who’s smart enough to never get caught.”
She spread her hands. “What else can I do? I want to get this case to trial so badly I can taste it, Laurie Anne, but keeping Big Bill Walters and his family safe has to come first. If that means letting it be known that we’ve figured out what’s going on, that’s what I’ll do.”
“But Junior, we can’t just walk away,” I said, not caring how whiney I sounded.
“Sometimes walking away is the only thing left to do.” She grinned. “Like when I knew there was something more to Leonard Cooper’s murder than was being said.”
“I am sorry about that, Junior. Keeping quiet seemed like the best thing to do at the time.”
“I understand. I’m just saying that keeping quiet just might be the best bet this time, too. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye out, in case this one has developed a taste for killing.”
I hated it, but maybe she was right. Richard and I had gone into this to protect Aunt Maggie and Big Bill. Aunt Maggie was out of it, but Big Bill wasn’t, and we couldn’t risk his life just for the satisfaction of winning. Then something else occurred to me.
“Are you going to tell Big Bill?” I asked.
“I have to,” Junior said. “He needs to know who to watch out for.”
“Then think about it. Is Big Bill Walters going to be willing to just watch his back for the rest of his life? Or is he going to do something on his own?”
She slapped herself on the forehead. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“And what happens when Aunt Maggie finds out? Will she just let it go?”
“Not hardly. How am I going to keep the two of them out of trouble?”
“You’re not,” I said. “We’re going to help them get into trouble. And settle this once and for all.” I wasn’t sure it was Shakespeare, but somebody had once said something about giving somebody enough rope to hang himself, and that’s what we were going to do.
It was a lot more easily decided than arranged, of course. If we were going to set this trap, we had to get our bait in place. That was Big Bill, of course, and we decided it would be better for Junior to handle him, since she could talk to him privately on the pretense of clearing up details about Sandie Herron’s attack. He was more than willing to go along, and was the one to come up with the right location.
Aunt Maggie came home not long after Junior called to verify that Big Bill was on board and, as we’d expected, insisted on being involved. As she put it, maybe she wasn’t really married to Big Bill, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be his widow.
We enlisted a few others, but as few as possible. The more people who knew about our plans, the greater the chance of word getting back to the killer or, just as bad, to one of Byerly’s stellar gossips. Since several of those gossips were related to me, I knew how quickly they could spread a tale across town.
We did broadcast a little disinformation. First off, Junior gave Hank Parker a nice, long interview about Sandie Herron’s death, taking pains to mention that there was no evidence that anybody else was involved in the attempts on Big Bill’s life. It was even true—we were going on instinct, not evidence. Since Hank had never met a gift horse whose mouth he wouldn’t inspect, he then came to see Richard and me. We played along, giving him details about Sandie’s maternal obsession to help fill out the article. I felt a little guilty about blackening Sandie’s reputation, but not enough to stop me. Richard made a point of telling Hank that we’d be leaving for Boston shortly, implying that we were satisfied with the way things had ended.
Next, Hank talked to Big Bill, who expressed his regret at not having realized how troubled Sandie was, and told him how distressed he was by the death of Miz Duffield. Then he casually mentioned that in order to help himself come to grips with recent events, he was leaving the next evening to spend some time in his hunting cabin. Alone.
Hank tried to get to Aunt Maggie, too, but she sent him off with his tail between his legs. This wasn’t at all suspicious to anybody who knew Aunt Maggie, and besides, she said she’d had a bellyful of lying and wasn’t about to sit there and play word games with Hank Parker.
The Byerly Gazette came out the next day, and I had no doubt that our stories were spread to the winds by lunchtime. Big Bill arrived at his cabin just after dark, but not before the rest of us were al
ready in place. The trap was set. All we had to do was wait.
Chapter 29
Big Bill’s cabin was about the size of Sandie Herron’s shack but considerably nicer. Though I didn’t get a chance to tour the inside until later, I knew it was made up of one big room that included a kitchenette with the usual appliances, a small dining area, and a living room with a stone fireplace. A compact spiral staircase led to a loft bedroom, and the living room couch folded out into a bed. There was only one bathroom, which made it rough living for Big Bill. Along the front of the house was a long porch with rocking chairs and a swing.
It was cozy for two or three people, but plenty big enough for Big Bill alone. Not that he was really alone, of course. The woods around the cabin were filled with watchers to make sure he didn’t come to harm, and to snap the trap closed on the killer.
Aunt Maggie was in a hollow to one side of the house, despite Big Bill’s objections. I hadn’t been too happy about it, either, but hadn’t bothered to say so, because I knew she was going to do whatever she wanted. What had surprised me was the fact that she wasn’t alone. Pudd’nhead Wilson was with her. She’d told him all the whys and wherefores of her marriage to Big Bill, and when she let him in on our plan, he’d insisted on lending a hand. Since I no longer considered him a suspect, I couldn’t very well argue with him, but I did wonder why he was so willing to defend his rival in romance. It was Richard who figured out that what he really wanted was to guard Aunt Maggie, but he knew enough not to tell her that. Both Aunt Maggie and Pudd’nhead were armed with shotguns.
On the other side of the cabin was Burt Walters, and he’d brought a surprise assistant, too: Mike Cooper. Big Bill had had to tell Burt about the plan, because he’d hit the roof when he heard his father was going off alone to a place where he’d nearly been killed. Once he found out what was really going on, he announced that he was coming, too. Big Bill had tried to talk him out of it, saying he was no use in the woods, but for once, Burt had stood up to his father. I don’t know that he’d ever fired the brand-new hunting rifle he was carrying, but from the look on his face, I knew he was willing to try. As for Mike, he must have spent time in the woods up in Tennessee, because even I could tell that he knew what he was doing.
Belva was in back of the cabin, and Junior had the front. They’d argued over which side the killer was likely to come from, and once they decided it was likely to be the front because the only door was there, they argued over who should take the bigger risk. Junior had to pull rank to win.
Of course, between Burnettes and friends of the Walterses, we could have filled the woods as thick as the crowd on opening day at Fenway Park, but Junior said that too many people would make it more dangerous. As it was, everybody had been strictly instructed not to fire a weapon unless they were sure they knew who it was they were firing at.
There were two people who wanted to be in the woods who weren’t there: Richard and me. We’d thought long and hard about it, and though it went against the grain for us not to be standing watch, Alice had to come first. We’d promised that we wouldn’t put ourselves in danger if we could avoid it, and this was something we could avoid. In fact, it was probably safer for all concerned that we didn’t go. Neither of us knew how to shoot, and we were city folk without much experience in the woods.
Still, we couldn’t completely stay away, so Junior had stationed us with Trey Norton. We three were in a dark van parked far enough away from the cabin that we couldn’t be seen, but close enough that we could hear the radio transmissions from the watchers. Richard and I were officially supposed to provide two extra sets of eyes to make sure nobody sneaked up on the van, but in all honesty we were there because we couldn’t stand not to be. Alice, needless to say, was not with us. Aunt Nora had her.
With Byerly’s entire police force out in the woods, Junior had had to call in a few favors to get the Rocky Shoals police to cover for them. The Rocky Shoals crew was also going to be our backup, should we need it.
I’d always thought that getting through college, leaving home, and having a baby were the toughest things I’d ever done. After that night, I had to add staying behind to the list. Not that those out in the woods had it any better—in fact, I was sure they had it worse. Though the weather that night was fine, it still couldn’t have been any treat to stay hidden all that time, trying to make no more noise than necessary. Every half hour, Junior would use the radio to check on each of them, which was probably as much to keep them awake as anything else.
Big Bill had his cabin to relax in, but I couldn’t imagine how he could really take advantage of it, knowing that he was a target. It hadn’t been easy for a man like him to put his life into the hands of others, and it couldn’t have been easy for him to continue acting unconcerned.
At least Richard and I were relatively comfortable in the van, and safe. We had no bugs to worry about, and we had something to drink, and could even talk if we did so quietly. Still, sitting there and waiting was mighty hard.
It didn’t help that I kept thinking that maybe I’d been wrong, that Sandie had been the only killer after all and I was wasting everybody’s time by having them wait for a nonexistent danger. Richard managed to reassure me that Junior wouldn’t have agreed to set up the trap if she hadn’t believed me.
Then I was worried that the killer was one of the people we’d trusted to watch over Big Bill. Could we be absolutely sure that Pudd’nhead, Belva, Burt, and Mike were innocent? After painstakingly going over our logic, Richard finally convinced me that we hadn’t misjudged those four.
Next I moved on to worrying that the killer had realized it was a trap and either wasn’t coming or had come up with a way past it. Even Richard couldn’t get those thoughts out of my head, and eventually gave up so he could take a nap. What with being on duty and worrying about his sister, Trey wasn’t interested in conversation, so that left nothing for me to do but to wait and keep quiet. I dozed off a few times myself.
About the time the sky started to go from solid black to deep gray, I remembered one of Paw’s sayings: The biggest coon don’t hunt until just before dawn. I’d never known what the heck he meant, but after that night, I thought I did. Because it was just before dawn that the man who wanted Big Bill dead made his move. I didn’t see it myself, of course, but those who did told me the whole story later on.
The killer crept through the brush on Burt and Mike’s side, concealed by the dark camouflage clothing he wore. Aunt Maggie said that from the way he moved, he knew exactly where he was going, so he must have explored the area around the cabin beforehand. Nobody saw him until he was nearly to the porch. Aunt Maggie whispered a warning into her radio, and all the watchers started to move in, trying to move as quietly as the killer. That radio message alerted those of us in the van, too, and we stared at the receiver, waiting to hear more.
Inside, the cabin was dark. Either Big Bill was still feigning sleep, or he really had managed to get some rest. But as the killer stepped onto the porch, an inside light went on. Big Bill later said that he’d sensed something was wrong, but Aunt Maggie said he was fooling himself because there was no way he could have heard anything. Either Big Bill had a sixth sense, or he just happened to pick that time to get up and move.
The killer reacted instantly. The rifle he’d been carrying casually was suddenly up on his shoulder, and he took aim through the window, into the cabin.
Junior’s voice rang out through the woods. “Hold it right there!”
The killer was smart; everyone agreed about that. He fired one quick shot into the cabin, and as Junior came at him from one direction, and Burt and Mike from the other, he broke into a run, heading for the side Aunt Maggie and Pudd’nhead were covering.
Everybody went after him, of course, but between the lingering darkness and confusion of the chase, nobody dared shoot for fear of hitting one of the good guys. Fortunately, the killer didn’t stop to shoot, either. He didn’t stop for anything, as he crashed through the brush
and bowled over Aunt Maggie. He was fast and desperate, and had enough of a head start that he might have gotten away if it hadn’t been for Pudd’nhead. The old ball player took careful aim and brought him down. Not with a gun—Pudd’nhead was as worried about hitting a friend as the others were. No, Pudd’nhead pulled his lucky baseball from his pocket and pitched it right at the man’s back, knocking him slap over from the impact. As Richard said, never before had throwing one strike been better than a no-hitter.
Junior and the others were on the man before he could stand, yanking the rifle out of his grip and dragging him up. He was wearing a ski mask, and it was Belva who pulled it off him. Then Junior radioed us with the message we’d been waiting for: “We’ve got him. You were right, Laurie Anne. It’s Tavis Montgomery.”
Chapter 30
While the others secured Tavis, Burt made a beeline for the cabin to check on Big Bill. Though he’d been cut on one hand by the flying glass from the window, Big Bill was fine and didn’t care nearly as much about getting patched up as he did about finding out what was going on. Junior and the others got Tavis back to the cabin just as Richard and I ran up with Trey.
Junior had Tavis cuffed by then, and pushed him toward the cabin, where Big Bill was waiting on the porch.
“Tavis?” Big Bill asked, sounding shocked even though he’d known who we were expecting. “I’ve never done anything to harm you. Why would you want to kill me?”
“Hold on, Mr. Walters,” Junior said. “We’ve got to do this properly. Tavis Montgomery, I’m arresting you for the attempted murder of Bill Walters.” She went on to read him his rights and verified that he understood them. “All right, then,” she said to Big Bill. “You can talk to him, but remember, he doesn’t have to say anything.”
Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 08 - Wed and Buried Page 23
