by Curry, Edna
Buddy rolled on the floor and turned and fired at Joe, hitting his arm. Joe fired back, hitting Buddy in the shoulder. Buddy screamed and dropped his gun, clutching his wound.
Maynard appeared in the doorway and asked, “What the hell?”
Joe quickly grabbed the gun from the floor, pocketed it and aimed his own gun at Buddy. “This character broke in. Call the cops.”
“Jane is doing that,” Maynard said, staring at Buddy. “Who the hell are you?”
“As if you didn’t know, Asshole,” Buddy said, groaning and pressing a hand on his wounded shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. He glared at Joe. “You shot me!”
“As you did to me,” Joe retorted, also holding a bloody arm. “Tell Jane to have them send an ambulance, too.”
“I heard gunshots, so I already did that,” Jane said in the doorway. She wore only a thin yellow nightgown and matching robe you could almost see through. Her belt cinched the robe in, defining well-formed breasts, and she pushed back her long dark hair with a manicured hand. A large diamond wedding ring set sparkled on her finger. She hurried to her brother-in-law saying, “Oh, my God, Joe, you’re bleeding.” She ran to the bathroom, grabbed a clean towel and pressed it to his arm.
Buddy stared at her, a frown on his face. “Jeez, Jonesy, you even got a boob job?”
“Boob job?”
“Huh?”
“Who’s Jonesy?” The three of them stared at him, then looked at each other.
“Where’s the rest of the gang? You got me this time, but don’t worry, I’ll get you all yet!”
“Are you drunk or what?” Joe asked. “Jeez, this bullet burned me. Hurts like hell!”
Buddy laughed, though it ended on a sob. “Some bodyguard you are. Whining like a baby over a little flesh wound. That bullet barely grazed you.”
Joe just glared back at him. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know me. Buddy Conners, from the old gang in Chicago?”
Maynard and Joe just stared at him. “What gang? I never heard of you,” Joe said.
“Me, neither,” Maynard said. “What’s taking those cops so long to get here?”
***
His phone alarm woke Chance and he bounced out of his bed to grab it from his end-table.
“Yeah, Sheriff?”
“Shots fired at a house on Deer Lake. They need some help.” Ben rattled off the house number and address.
“On my way,” Chance answered. He laid the phone down and quickly put on the clothes he’d taken off when he went to bed. Grabbing his gun and phone, he ran for his car and sped to the address. While Deer Lake was across the Wisconsin border, the two counties often helped each other when anything serious happened. Neither had a large force, but luckily crime wasn’t a usual thing in either county, so they were able to help each other when needed.
Arriving at the scene, he parked behind the sheriff’s car and also a couple of Polk County cars and the ambulance. Gun in hand, he cautiously rounded the house and found an officer guarding the open patio doors.
“Excitement’s over. The guy’s down with a gunshot wound,” he told Chance. “Go on up.”
“Thanks.” Chance holstered his gun and climbed the spiral staircase. “Good,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe I’ll get some more sleep tonight, then.”
In the first bedroom, he found the officers and paramedics had taken charge. The paramedics were bandaging Joe and Buddy’s wounds.
“Thanks for coming,” Ben said. “Looks like the homeowners and the burglar shot each other. We can let Polk County sort it out.”
The paramedics loaded the two injured men into the ambulance to go to the ER, with Wisconsin’s officers following in their cars.
Ben and Chance went back home.
***
The next morning Chance and Ben met for coffee in Ben’s office for their morning update as usual. Tom was manning the dispatch and Roger was on patrol.
“Did you hear anything more about the burglar last night?” Chance asked, pouring himself some coffee from the machine on the side table. He helped himself to a glazed doughnut from the box on the sheriff’s desk and dropped into a wooden chair.
“Yeah, I talked to Polk County’s sheriff this morning. Apparently the guy gave them a fake name and address in Chicago. Claims to be a Buddy Conners, part of an old gang, The Bears, there.”
“And they don’t believe that?”
Ben laughed. “Buddy was killed in a shootout between the police and two gangs almost a century ago. Even if he’d lived, he would now be about a hundred and twenty.”
“Crazy cover story. Maybe he’s just using that ID. Bought it from an ID peddler, you know. They’re always using those of dead people. What about fingerprints?”
“Yeah, they’re checking those out. But the crazy thing is, this guy seems to really believe he’s that Buddy. Told them he was just getting back at Jonesy and that he had to take out the two men because they were Jonesy’s bodyguards.”
“Who’s Jonesy?”
Ben laughed again. “That’s the weird thing. Buddy claims Jane, Maynard’s wife, is really a man and a rival gang member, a Lion, named Jonesy. Says he’d know him anywhere, that he’s just posing as a woman to hide from Buddy and the rest of the Bears that are after them. Said they’ve been hunting for the Lions members for years to get back at them for killing most of their gang off in Chicago.”
“The same gang that died a hundred years ago?” Chance asked with a hoot.
“Yep. It all matches the police reports from back then. I found a link to them online and newspaper reports, too. Somebody there dug them out for us. But they’ll figure out who he really is.”
“What about the people whose house he broke into, the Carsons? Any info on them?”
“Yep. They all check out. Joe and Maynard are brothers and respectable dentists in Minneapolis. Maynard’s wife is a typical rich man’s wife, does teas, charity functions and church stuff. They have a couple of kids, grown up now. Joe is divorced and single, often spends the weekend with them to fish. The house on Deer Lake is just a weekend place for them.”
Chance nodded. “Most of the houses around that lake are. They call them cabins or cottages, but most are nicer than other people’s year-round houses.”
“Yeah. Guess it pays to be rich, huh? Did you find out anything on Alfred’s ex-wife or her new sweetie?”
“Not a heck of a lot. But I think Harold is the best suspect we’ve got so far. He and Kendra just have each other for alibis, so that’s as good as none.”
Ben stuffed the rest of his doughnut in his mouth and chewed, then washed it down with coffee. “Right. And she was pretty pissed to learn Alfred had already signed a divorce settlement with her lawyer. Don’t think she wanted him to do that.”
“No, I suppose not. But I can’t find any proof that either of them was out here that night, either. You’d think, if they were, someone would have seen them, or that they’d have bought gas here or something.”
“True. But with it only an hour from Minneapolis, they could easily slip into town and out again without needing to buy anything.”
“I suppose. Well, best I get back to work. That call last night sure ruined a good night’s sleep,” Chance said with a sigh.
Ben eyed him. “Didn’t interrupt anything else with Cassie though, huh?”
“No such luck.” Chance frowned at Ben. Couldn’t keep anything secret around this place. If Ben didn’t guess about his love life, one of the other deputies did. Nosy small-towners.
“Anything new on whoever shot at her?” Ben asked.
“No. The description of the car the witness gave us is too vague and the bullet that hit her evidently went out through the window. We did find the second bullet in her van. But it hit the frame and is too smashed to be useful in tracing what gun it came from.”
“Too bad. I get the feeling that the attack on her is connected to the murders in some way.”
/> “Me, too,” Chance said. “And I’d sure like to get the SOB.” The thought that the perp was still out there and might try to hurt Cassie again made his gut ache. He tossed his empty cup into the wastebasket and headed back to his own office.
Chapter 9
I’d just eaten breakfast when I had a call to change the locks on an apartment in a newer building in Middleton. A woman said she’d just moved in and didn’t want the former occupants to have access.
When I arrived, I was surprised to see a young woman with long dark hair who looked very familiar. She said her name was Ellen Anderson. I didn’t recognize the name, though I knew Anderson was a very common name in our area.
The locks were fairly new, so I told her I could just re-pin them. She agreed.
“Do you mind if I work at your kitchen table?” I asked.
“Make yourself at home,” she said. “Would you like some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“Sure,” I said. I brought in my pinning kit and took the lock out of her front door. Then I sat at her table and began the task of dissembling and re-pinning it.
She poured coffee for both of us and sat across from me to watch me work. I’ve found lots of clients are fascinated by the process of taking locks apart and re-pinning them.
As we chatted, I puzzled over why I felt I should know her. Finally, I asked, “Have we met before? You look so familiar to me. I know I meet a lot of people and don’t always remember them,” I explained with a smile.
“No, I don’t remember meeting you,” Irene said.
Then it dawned on me. She looked like Lola Jarrin, Mrs. Anderson’s daughter. “Do you know an Iris Anderson and her daughter, Lola, in Canton? I mean, you have the same last name, and you look a lot like Lola.”
“Oh, you mean Aunt Iris? Sure, I know her. And Lola is my cousin. Yes, people do say Lola and I look a bit alike. I’m younger, though.”
“Of course.” I smiled, picking out new pins and concentrating on getting them into the lock in the correct order.
“I don’t have much to do with Lola anymore,” she went on, wrinkling her nose. “She thinks she’s pretty hot stuff since she and Harold Smith started that internet business. Harold is her cousin on the other side of the family, so he’s no relation to me. She claims they’re making big money now.”
“Oh really? Selling on the internet is working out good for them?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I suppose it must be. At least, he’s driving a new Cadillac now.”
“Wow. What kind of stuff do they sell?”
“Antiques, mostly, she says. And old jewelry and furniture that they buy from estate sales or even find at garage sales. She claims people don’t always know what they have and sell it cheap. They’ve even found some real gold and diamond jewelry that the people selling it said was a relative’s old costume jewelry. So they make a big profit off of it.”
“Hm.” I laughed and put the lock back together. “Most of the stuff I’ve found at garage sales really is just junk. Guess I’m not lucky.” I reinstalled the lock into her door and tightened the screws, then made out my bill.
Interesting bit of news, I thought as I drove back to my house. Was this only a coincidence that the cousin sold antiques? Or was it a connection to the china cabinet I’d seen? If so, had Chance learned of that connection yet? Dare I get involved again and tell him?
***
I didn’t have anything more scheduled, so I spent the rest of the morning working on my novel. After re-reading the last chapter, I got a couple of new pages written. Then the phone rang. Caller ID said it was my brother, Ken, who bothers to call me maybe three times a year. To be fair, I don’t call him very often, either. Had he found out someone had shot at me? I hadn’t told my family because I really couldn’t explain why it happened and they’d just worry for nothing.
Pushing away a flutter of anxiety, I answered, “Hi Ken. What’s up?”
“What do you mean, what’s up? Can’t I call my baby sister just because?”
I laughed in relief. His jovial tone told me he didn’t have bad news or know about the shooting. “Sure you could. But you never do.”
“Sarah and I are at Mom and Dad’s place. Did you remember it’s Mom’s birthday tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I lied. “I was planning to call her.”
“Well, I have a better idea. Let’s take them out for dinner tomorrow night at a nice restaurant, my treat.”
Yikes. They’d see the bandage on my head. Could I get it down to just a Band-Aid by then and pretend it was only a small cut? Maybe. “Okay,” I said.
“You can even bring a boyfriend, if you like.”
My heart flipped over. Introduce Chance to my parents? I wasn’t at all sure I was ready for that. Or that he was, either. “I’ll think about it. Where did you have in mind?”
“How about the Old Country Buffet? The one we went to last time I was here. That way everyone can have their favorite food.”
“Sounds great. What time?”
“Is six o’clock all right? Mom and Dad are early birds nowadays, you know.”
The doctor told me not to drive, but, really, I feel okay, now. It shouldn’t hurt to drive again. Besides, I’ve been driving the rental car around town, haven’t I? That was only a few blocks, but still… “Fine. I’ll meet you there, Ken.”
I’d no more than hung up when my friend, Darcy, called. She wanted me to meet her for lunch at the Flame.
“I thought you might want to get out of the house by now,” she said. “But if you’re not feeling up to it, I could bring over some take-out.”
“I’m fine, as I keep telling everyone. I’d love to get out of the house. But what are you doing up?” I asked. “Didn’t you have to work at the hospital last night?”
“Yes, I did, and that’s why I want to talk to you today. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you, okay?”
“Sure. Lunch sounds great,” I said, my curiosity piqued now. “I have to go shopping anyway. I forgot to buy my mother a present for her birthday.”
“Good. See you at noon, then?”
I agreed and hung up, wondering what she wanted to talk about. Since it was already almost eleven, I closed down my computer and went to take a shower and get dressed.
Darcy was waiting at our favorite table in the back corner of the Flame when I got there. There weren’t very many people in the restaurant, so no one was at any of the tables close to ours, which suited me fine. That way we could talk without worrying about people we knew overhearing our conversation. Gossip runs rampant in our little burg.
Darcy’s tall, slim body was dressed in jeans and a bright blue silk blouse that matched her eyes. She flipped back her long red hair and looked me over with a frown. “What took you so long? Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She stood and pulled back the corner of the bandage that still covered the wound on my head. “Looks like it’s healing okay,” she muttered and sat again.
“I’m only five minutes late,” I objected, taking the chair opposite her. “What’s your problem today?”
The waitress appeared with coffee and water and we both ordered seafood salads with French dressing. Darcy sipped her coffee, watching the waitress disappear to the kitchen with our order. When she was out of earshot, Darcy said, “Have you talked to Chance today?”
I raised an eyebrow. Now what? “No, why?”
“Well, the police brought in two gunshot victims last night.”
“Gunshot? What is going on in this town? Suddenly everyone’s shooting one another. We hardly ever have crime here.”
“I know.”
“Was it anyone we know? Were they hurt bad?”
“No, we don’t know them and they weren’t hurt bad. One had an arm wound and the other took a bullet to the shoulder.”
“What happened? And where?”
“Evidently, they shot each other. As I heard it, the one with the shoulder wound broke into a house on Deer Lake where a couple and the
man’s brother were staying. The brother caught the burglar and shot him. The burglar returned fire and wounded him, and then the two brothers overpowered the burglar and called the cops.”
“For cripes’ sakes. But why did you want to tell me all this? Was Chance involved?”
“Yes, I asked the officer who brought them in and he said our county guys were in on it, too. But that’s not the only thing.”
“What else?” I drank more coffee, then sat back as the waitress brought our salads.
After she’d left again, Darcy continued, “They released the one brother after treating his arm. But they kept the burglar in the hospital. He was on my floor last night and he’s a real nut, Cassie. He was raving on and on last night. I think you should tell Chance to have a talk with him.”
I frowned. “That’s Wisconsin’s territory. Chance doesn’t have any jurisdiction there, except when they request some help. That’s usually just for emergencies, not for questioning or following up on cases.”
Darcy nodded. “Yeah, I know all that, but I think it needs to be Chance this time.”
“Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“Cassie, this guy was talking weird last night.”
“You said that.” I dug into my salad, sure Darcy had crossed the line. I had no intention of sticking my nose in Chance’s business. Sheriff Ben would have my head.
“Yeah, but wait until you hear what the nut was raving about. He said he’d taken care of some gang member from Chicago. Shot him dead and hid him in a garage. Does that sound familiar?”
My fork stopped halfway to my mouth and then dropped back to my plate. Chills ran over me. The body in Middleton that I’d found. Oh, no. “Oh, my God. You should have reported it.”
“I’m not getting involved, Cassie.”
“Why not? Of course you should.”
“Uh, uh. My super is a real bitch. I’m in trouble with her already. I figure you can just tell Chance. Okay? And he can say someone called in a tip or something.”
“Well, you could just phone in a tip anonymously, couldn’t you?”
