Murdered by Country Music: A High Desert Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  CHAPTER 13

  “Come on in and sit down,” Les said to John and Max. ‘I imagine you’d like something to drink. I’ve got wine and beer,” Les said.

  “I’ll take a beer, and I know Max would like one too, right?” he said turning to Max who nodded.

  “Well, what did the sheriff have to say? Were you able to convince him that you two didn’t do it?” Marty asked.

  “We tried, but I have a feeling he doesn’t believe us, or he thinks we’re hiding something from him,” John answered.

  “Why do you say that?” Jeff asked.

  “He told us he didn’t have enough evidence to arrest either one of us right now, but that he certainly wasn’t ruling it out. He said he learned from several people today that I’d talked about how I hoped something bad would happen to Jacques and how much I disliked him.”

  “I know you’ve told us the same thing several times, but I assumed you told us because we’re your good friends,” Laura said. “I’ve talked to you before about toning down your speech. You have a tendency to pop off with whatever’s on your mind. Do you think people would testify that you wanted Jacques dead?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately I do.”

  “Boss, you was jes’ sayin’ what a lot of people think about him. Shoot, I said the same thing a bunch of times too,” Max said.

  “I know, and I think that’s why we both could be in big trouble. I honestly think he’s going to arrest us after the festival ends. Jeff, you’re the lawman. What do you think?”

  “We’ve been talking about it while you were being interviewed by the sheriff, and we’ve come up with a couple of ideas we’re hoping will lead to finding out who the murderer is. What really concerns me is this. I was telling Les, Marty, and Laura that the first thing the police, or in this case, the sheriff looks at when investigating a murder is who has the most to gain. Unfortunately, you have a lot to gain with Jacques being dead. From what you’ve told us, he had become your major competitor. With him gone, The Red Pony is still the number one food truck in Palm Springs.”

  “I never thought of it that way, but now I can see why the sheriff considers me a suspect, but I don’t understand why he thinks Max is a suspect too.”

  “John, it’s not the least bit uncommon for two people to plot a murder, and certainly employees are oftentimes in cahoots with their bosses when it comes to committing a criminal act. I want to know what you can tell me about both Jacques’ and Ned’s drug use. Who knows? That could possibly be a reason why Jacques was killed,” Jeff said.

  “I told you pretty much everything I know. I learned about Jacques when he had his television show and rumor has it he was let go because of his drug use. He wasn’t around for several years, and I’ve always assumed the rumors about him going into rehab and then seclusion were true. One day several months ago I looked out the window of The Red Pony at lunchtime and there, pulling in next to my truck, was Jacques in his food truck, the French Food Obsession. Since then he’s pretty much been wherever I’ve been at lunchtime. I have five different locations I go to, a different one each day during the work week, and you have to admit the odds of him just popping up on the specific street where I’m parked are pretty low. I know he was trying to cash in on my success, and I really resented it. All that’s true, but I didn’t resent him enough to murder him.”

  “Did you ever have any reason to think he’d started doing drugs again?” Jeff asked.

  “Boss, I can answer that. I seen him give some guy money once and the guy gave him a small bag of something. The guy was real seedy lookin’. I ‘member thinkin’ at the time that I was seein’ a drug deal go down.”

  “Max, how long ago was that?” Jeff asked.

  “It was ‘bout two months ago.”

  “What can either one of you tell me about Ned Billings, his assistant?” Jeff asked. “I think you mentioned that he and Jacques were friends from a long time ago, and that Ned was pretty active in Narcotics Anonymous. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. I actually worked with Ned a few years ago,” John said. “It was just before he quit doing drugs. I remember his wife came to the restaurant where we were working and in front of everyone told him she was going to leave him if he didn’t stop doing drugs right then and there. She said he hadn’t been home in several days, and she didn’t know what else to do. Poor Rita was crying and carrying on something awful. I felt sorry for her, but it must have worked because he took a week off and when he came back to work, he was like a different man. He told me once that NA saved his life and his marriage.”

  “So Rita Billings is his wife? Do you know if he’s still married to her?”

  “I’m sure he is. I never heard he’d gotten a divorce.”

  “One more thing, then I think both of you need to get some sleep. If tomorrow is anything like today, it should be a madhouse, plus I’ve heard that Sundays are the busiest days at these festivals.”

  “Shoot, Jeff. What’s the one more thing?” John asked.

  “Why and how did Ned start working for Jacques in the food truck?”

  “That I don’t know. Ned bounced around at a number of restaurants in the Palms Spring area, most of which were actually pretty good. When I worked with him I found him to be quite talented. All I can think of is that he and Jacques remained good friends, and when Jacques opened up his food truck he probably asked Ned to be his assistant. He was with Jacques from the time Jacques first opened it up. That’s about all I know.

  “I’m beat guys, and I’m sure Max is too. I’m planning on being at the Pony about ten tomorrow morning. I could use some help from Les and Jeff in the morning to help me transfer the last of the food in the motor homes over to the Pony. You got everything out of that building the owner let us use, right?”

  “Yes, we transferred everything and brought it here. Are you going to have enough food?” Les asked.

  “Yeah, it’s going to be close, but I think we’ll be okay. Worst case scenario is we just close down early. As jammed in as these motor homes are, I can’t imagine trying to maneuver one out and then get it back in if we needed to make a run and buy more food. No, we’ll be fine. Let’s call it a night, Max. You ready to go?”

  “Boss, I’m so tired I’ll be lucky to get in bed before I pass out, and that durned sheriff sure ain’t helpin’ my stress level.” The two of them stood up and slowly shuffled out the door.

  “Jeff, I think we’re all about as tired as they are, but I have a question, and I’ll bet everyone else does too,” Marty said. “Why didn’t you tell them about the molly capsules, and that we’re pretty sure Jacques was selling drugs out of the French Food Obsession.”

  “It was a very deliberate omission on my part and here’s why. First of all, the sheriff has told them they are considered suspects. If they don’t know about the drugs, they can’t say anything to him about them. Having them even mention drugs could be another red flag for them.

  “The second reason is the sheriff would know that their knowledge about the drugs being sold at Jacques’ food truck came from me. Professionally, that would be a problem. The sheriff could call my captain down at the Palm Springs station and complain, and I might say with good cause. I’d be furious if someone in law enforcement told potential suspects about something that had been discovered concerning an ongoing investigation in which I was involved. And to play the devil’s advocate, what if John and/or Max did it? I know none of us wants to even entertain that possibility, but it’s like the four-thousand-pound elephant in the room. It has to be addressed.”

  “Neither one of them did it. I know that,” Laura said. “I’ve got a strong psychic feeling about the two of them, and it’s saying they did not do it.”

  “Laura, I believe you and I feel the same way, but I can practically guarantee you that the sheriff would laugh you out of his office if you went in and told him how you felt. He might be rolling on the floor in laughter when you went on to tell him that the reason you know they didn’t do it i
s because you’re a psychic. I’ve seen your psychic gift work first-hand, but the sheriff hasn’t, and if he’s anything like most people, at best he’d regard your claim with a great deal of skepticism.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m sure you’re right,” Laura said, “which is all the more reason for us to help find out who murdered Jacques. Let’s get through tomorrow, and then we can concentrate on solving the crime and removing the cloud of suspicion surrounding our friends John and Max. See you all in the morning.” All four of them quickly got in their beds and were sound asleep almost immediately.

  CHAPTER 14

  Promptly at ten the next morning, everyone met at The Red Pony. The festival was scheduled to be open from noon to six on the last day, so Laura, Marty, Les, and Jeff agreed they would split their time manning the counter, three hours each, and if the crowds weren’t as big as they expected they could reduce the two lines to one line. Laura and Marty, along with John and Max, helped prep the food for the day. Jeff and Les brought the remaining food from the two motor homes, set up the outside tables, and generally did whatever John asked. By 11:45 they were ready to go and promptly at noon the crowd once again came surging through the entrance gate.

  The next six hours flew by. Even with two lines, customers still had long waits. The reputation of the Pony’s excellent food had evidently gotten around by word of mouth. It was another huge monetary day for John and The Red Pony. The only thing that cast a shadow on the day was the overlying cloud of what the future held for the Pony, John, and Max.

  At six that evening, the last of the revelers left the festival, having had an experience they knew they’d never forget. John looked at his group of volunteer helpers and said, “I don’t know how I can ever thank you. When I decided to see if I could get the festival promoters to accept the Pony as one of the food trucks, I honestly had no idea it would be as hectic as it turned out to be or as profitable as it was. Let’s get outta here. Why don’t all of us go to the compound so you can unpack your things from the motor home while I start prepping for tomorrow’s lunch and clean up the Pony. After you’ve unpacked, Les and Max can return the motor homes and Laura, if you wouldn’t mind, you can follow them in your car and then bring them back to the compound. Jeff, since your car’s at the compound, you can go on home if you want. Does that work for everybody?”

  “John, that sounds fine. I need to go to Lucy’s and pick up Duke. She’s probably tired of putting on his pink booties, so he’ll go outside on the grass to do his business,” Marty said, thinking about her dog’s bizarre habit of refusing to walk on the desert floor or grass without his pink booties firmly in place. The fact that he was a large black Labrador retriever wearing hot pink booties made it almost comical. Marty thought it had gone way past the amusing stage, but it didn’t look like his behavior was going to change in the near future, so she was resolved to simply accepting the dog’s behavior for what it was, stranger than strange.

  “Fine with me. I do need to get home and use my computer to check on the status of a couple of cases I’m working on,” Jeff said.

  After they returned to the compound and unpacked the motor homes, Les and Max left to return them to the rental agency. Jeff turned to Marty and said, “Well, sweetheart, this weekend at the Desert Country Music Festival was quite an adventure. If I hadn’t met you and you hadn’t introduced me to your sister and her group, I never would have had that experience. I’ll check on getting the information for Rita Billings and Jacques’ ex-wife. I’ll call you when I know something.” He put his arms around her and kissed her. “You know, our wedding’s getting closer, and after that I’ll be living here permanently. It can’t come too soon for me.”

  “Me neither, Jeff, but the thought did occur to me that if John’s arrested for murder, he won’t be able to do the catering for the wedding reception which was going to be his gift to us.”

  “I know. That thought occurred to me as well. Just another reason for us to figure out who the real killer is. We’ll make it happen. I know we will.”

  “Glad you’re so confident. I’m feeling less and less so.”

  “Marty, I feel that way about every case. It’s kind of like climbing up a mountain. At first it seems insurmountable, but with each step you get closer to the top. Eventually you can see the other side, and you know you’ve made it. We’re getting closer to the top of the mountain. I feel it.”

  “Okay, Detective Combs. I’m going to just have to take your word for it and believe me, I hope you’re right.”

  He gently released her and walked out to his car. “If you don’t believe me, ask your sister. Bet she’d agree with me.” He blew her a kiss, got in his car, and drove away.

  Marty walked back into her house and called Lucy. “Hi, Lucy. I just got back from the music festival. Okay if I come by and pick up Duke? You’re probably getting tired of putting those booties on him, anyway.”

  “Honey, I think he’s gonna be real happy to see ya’, but I gotta tell ya’, ain’t never seen ‘nuthin like that dog and his booties. The old man and I laughed so hard the first time we put ‘em on him we had tears rollin’ down our cheeks. I gotta tell ya’, it’s a sight to behold. Sure, come on over. Don’t think I’ll tell him. He’d probably get too excited.”

  “Great, I’ll be there shortly.”

  When Marty drove into Lucy’s driveway, the first thing she saw in the front fenced yard was Duke in his pink booties. When he saw her car he started running around in circles, going so fast that the pink booties on his feet and his black fur blended into an indistinguishable blur. In the background she saw Lucy bent over with laughter. She got out of the car and let herself in the yard.

  “Duke, come,” Marty said. The big black dog ran over to her and laid down on his back indicating he wanted a tummy scratch. She gave him one and then walked over to Lucy, Duke by her side, whimpering with excitement at seeing her. Marty had met Lucy when she’d first moved to High Desert to live in the four-house compound owned by her sister, Laura. Lucy was in charge of the photo department at the Hi-Lo Drug Store and the one who developed the photos Marty included in her appraisals. As different as they were, a friendship had been formed, and Marty thoroughly enjoyed Lucy’s warmth and simplicity.

  “Lucy, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Duke. You were right about the festival. It was definitely not a place for dogs. Between the loud music, people, and non-stop noise it would have been a nightmare for him, to say nothing of the unbearable heat. I hope he behaved himself.”

  “Other than refusin’ to go outside without his booties, he was a perfect gentleman. Made my old man and me think maybe we need to get a dog. I had one when I was a kid, but I ain’t had none since. My ex didn’t like ‘em, so I got outta the habit of havin’ one. Need to rethink that a bit. Ya’ know how I always look up a thought for the day? Well today I decided I would jes’ take the first thing I saw when the computer landed on the site I use. Guess what it said?”

  “I have no idea, but given what we’re talking about, I assume it has something to do with dogs.”

  “Yep. Said the time had come for me to share my love. Guessin’ it means I should share my love with a dog. My ol’ man and me’ve been jawin’ ‘bout it all day. Gonna check out some sites.”

  “Are you looking for a certain breed?”

  “Ain’t thought ahead that far. Guess we’ll know when we see one we like. Think we’ll go to the county shelter. Be willin’ to bet there’s one in there that would like to be adopted. See, ya’ done gone and changed my life by lettin’ me keep ol’ Duke over the weekend,” she said grinning.

  “Hope you say the same thing after you’ve had a dog for a while,” Marty said laughing.

  “I put Duke’s things on the porch here. Bet yer’ tired and jes’ wanna get home and go to bed. I hear them music festivals are somethin’ else. I guess there’s a lot of drugs, booze, and who knows what else.”

  “Don’t know about the what else, but yes, I can tell y
ou drugs and alcohol were alive and well at the festival. I don’t see how those people can do it for three days in a row. Maybe it’s an age thing.”

  “I coulda’ done a three-day booze thing when I was younger, but I can’t even drink no more than a couple of beers now. And drugs? Nah, weren’t never my thing. Actually, purty glad it weren’t!”

  “You’re right, I am tired and ready to get in bed. Again, thanks. I’m between appraisals, but I have one coming up in a week or so with some of the best California paintings I’ve ever seen. Think you’ll enjoy the photos. See you soon,” Marty said as she opened the gate for Duke. A few minutes later she was on her way back to the compound.

  When Marty opened the gate, Duke happily pranced in, enjoying the attention of the other residents who were sitting at the picnic table in the courtyard. “Marty, here’s the last of the food from the festival,” John said. “I know you’re probably tired of looking at it, but as exhausted as all of us are, we couldn’t even consider cooking something. Help yourself, and then we can all go to bed for some much deserved sleep.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The next morning Marty’s ringing cell phone woke her up. She looked at the monitor and saw it was Jeff. “Good morning, Jeff. I hope you slept as well as I did last night. I feel rested, but in spite of a good night’s sleep, I think I’m going to be tired for several days.”

  “Believe me, I slept great. I ate a tuna sandwich while I was standing at the kitchen sink, put the plate in the dishwasher, walked in to my bedroom, and collapsed. I think it was all of 7:30. I did manage to wake up early, so I decided to go to the station and see if I could find Rita Billing’s address for you. Fortunately, it was really easy. Got a pencil and a piece of paper?”

  “Give me a moment. Okay, shoot.” She listened and wrote down the address he gave her. “Jeff, I’m not sure what I should say when I go to her home and start asking questions. I know yesterday we talked about Laura and I both going to see her, but in retrospect, I don’t think that’s a good idea. She might find two women calling on her and asking questions very intimidating. I could say something like I was working with law enforcement on the Jacques Ruchon case and wondered if she could tell me anything that would help me track down the murderer. What do you think of that?”