“Sounds like you’re playing with fire again.”
“Whatever. Anyway, he wasn’t there. He had taken his car to be fixed at Clark’s Body Shop.”
“I see. So you think he damaged his car trying to run Billy off the road.”
“Maybe. At the very least, he scraped it when he hit Billy in the parking lot at the auction.”
“But Fisk was at the auction when the police came. How could he be in two places at once?”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She sat down at the kitchen table and propped her feet up. “How far is it from the community center to the pawn shop?”
“Let’s see. I’d say about three miles.”
“Right. So he could have driven to the pawn shop, dumped the coins, and been back in less than ten minutes.”
“I suppose.”
“If only we knew if he drove a black car...”
“You mean a black car with damage consistent with the kind you would get from hitting a pedestrian.”
Deena smiled at her husband. “You sound just like a cop.”
“Speaking of cops, does Detective Guttman know about this theory?”
“Ugh.” She told Gary about her run-in with Guttman and how he didn’t want to hear anything else from her about the case. “The worst part is that I think he would accept my help if Fisk would give him the okay.”
“Fat chance that will happen now. Maybe I can talk to Guttman.”
“No way. I can’t have my husband pleading my case. It’s hard enough being a woman in this profession as it is.”
Gary raised an eyebrow.
“I know. This isn’t part of my job with Ian, but as soon as Sandra is back at the thrift shop, I’ll be back investigating cases again.”
Gary gave her a reassuring hug. “I’ve finally reconciled myself to let you follow your heart with this truth and justice stuff, but that doesn’t make it any easier, you know. I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“Actually, there is something.” She flashed a bright smile.
“Uh-oh. I know that look. What is it now?”
“Nothing bad. Just a little midnight rendezvous with danger.”
Chapter 18
Deena often burned the midnight oil when she was a teacher and needed to finish her grades or complete reports. Gary, on the other hand, had a strict routine of being in bed by eleven o’clock sharp. Consequently, he was too tired to wait until midnight for their covert operation, so they left the house a few minutes after ten. Deena insisted they both wear all black. Gary reluctantly agreed but drew the line at rubbing charcoal on their faces.
They headed downtown to check out Clark’s Body Shop. Deena wanted to look for a black car on the lot with damage to the driver’s side from slamming into Billy. Perhaps the side mirror had come loose. If the car was there, she could then try to find out if it belonged to Fisk. If so, Guttman would have to consider it as evidence. Maybe then he would take her seriously and drop the charges against Wyatt.
“Turn off your lights,” Deena said as they got close to the body shop. “We don’t want anyone to see us.”
“But I might hit something.”
“Then pull over and park. We can walk from here.”
She got out of the car and gently shut the door. She jumped and made a face when Gary slammed his door. Of course, he couldn’t see her sneer at him in the dark.
The city needed to spring for a few more streetlights in this area.
Deena had never noticed the high chain-link fence around the body shop, but then, why would she?
They approached the gate and found it fastened shut with a padlock.
“Use your flash light to see if the car is parked out here,” she whispered. “You go around that way, and I’ll go this way.”
Several wrecked cars lined the side of the building. Only one was black, a pickup truck. Plus, it had been rear-ended from what she could tell. Then she heard a scuttling noise and looked down to see a rat the size of an armadillo. Its beady eyes shone from the flashlight. She started to scream as it scurried away down the fence line.
“Any luck?”
She spun around to see Gary holding the flashlight under his chin like a kid on Halloween. “Stop that! You scared the bejeebers out of me!”
“Sorry, hon.” He switched off the light. “I didn’t find anything on my side. I guess we should head on back home.”
“Not yet.” Deena looked over at the building with its four large garage doors. “We haven’t checked inside yet.”
“Forget about it. That would be illegal.”
“Oh, come on now. Where’s your sense of adventure? If you give me a boost, I can shine the light through one of those windows and take a peek. Then we’re not entering or breaking.”
“No, just trespassing. Don’t you think the fence with the big ‘Keep Out’ signs all over it means anything?”
“Signs? It’s a sign,” she said with mock enthusiasm. “Let’s go.” She slipped the flashlight in the pocket of her jacket and reached up for the fence. Too bad she’d skipped so many exercise classes. She hiked her leg as high as possible.
Gary let out a huff but stood behind her and pushed. “If we get arrested, I’m going to tell the cops you blackmailed me or brainwashed me or something.”
“Fine.” She swung her leg up on top of the chain link and heard a rip. The crotch of her black sweatpants had given up hope of stretching. The sharp bits on the top of the fence scratched her leg.
This wasn’t going to work. “Maybe we should go home and get a ladder,” she said. “I’m coming down.”
At least that’s what she thought..
Her pants leg caught on the fence, holding her leg hiked up on the fence. As she tried to wriggle it free, the flashlight slipped out of her pocket and fell onto Gary’s foot.
“Ouch,” he yelled and jumped around.
A dog howled and then security lights came on. It felt like one of those scenes in a movie when the dark field lights up and the soldiers are surrounded by the enemy. She looked at the dog bounding toward them. Not the most ferocious of junk yard dogs, he panted and barked as though he wanted to play.
“Get down from there!” Gary said, starting to back away.
“Don’t let go! My pants are caught. Push me up higher so I can reach my leg.”
“That’s as high as I can push you. Hurry up, my arms are about to give out.”
She looked down. “Are you calling me fat?”
“Deena! Not now.” He slowly lowered her to the ground.
She felt her pants pull down below her waist and her foot slip out of her sneaker. The rebellious shoe fell to the ground on the other side of the fence.
Just as Gary set her safely back onto the ground, she heard a sound that made her stomach churn. It was a siren. The cold November wind and the lack of pants made her shiver.
Gary reached up and gave her sweatpants a mighty tug, ripping them off the top of the fence.
She stepped on a rock, sending pain shooting up her leg as she hopped on one foot trying to pull on her pants. She had one leg in and one leg out when the squad car screamed up, beaming its headlights on them.
“Hands up!” said a robotic voice over the car’s speaker. “Get down on the ground!”
As they lay face down in the dirt, she heard a familiar voice above her. “Mrs. Sharpe? Is that you?”
* * *
HUMILIATION COMES IN various forms, but none as awful as being caught in the dark with your pants down.
Apparently, Officer Hitchcock had no knowledge of a connection between Clark’s Body Shop and the Dietz murder investigation. Otherwise, he’d have probably thrown Gary and Deena in the pokey. She made up some cockamamie story about how she and Gary were taking a stroll and, wanting to pet the dog, she got stuck trying to climb the fence.
He bought it. Hitchcock may have been the busiest cop on the force, but he certainly wasn’t the brightest.
Gary was more shaken
by the whole mess than Deena. He wasn’t used to getting in scrapes with the law. If ever there was a straight arrow in this world, Gary Sharpe was the straightest. Luckily, after thirty-something years of marriage, Deena had managed to bend him just a little.
The clear light of morning on Thursday brought clarity. Deena needed a new plan to get a look at Fisk’s car at the body shop. Obviously, she couldn’t go herself since Ronnie Clark would recognize her as the crazy cookie lady.
She needed to send a man. She would never dream of asking Gary to go back there again. He was still suffering from PTSD — post-traumatic sleuthing disorder. Russell, on the other hand, would be able to handle the job expertly. She called him as soon as she got to the thrift store.
“You don’t happen to need any work done on your cars, do you?” she asked her brother when he answered his phone. It was a random question, she knew.
“Why?”
“I need you to go to Clark’s Body Shop and see if the killer’s car is there.”
“I’m having a hard time hearing you, sis. Did you say you are looking for a killer car?”
Deena often forgot about Russell’s hearing loss from when he served in Vietnam. She spoke up and went on to explain her plan.
“I can go in and ask about getting work done on my truck. Maybe a new paint job. That should work, right?”
“Perfect. I knew I could count on you. If you can, take a picture of the damage and the license plate. I’m ready to wrap up this case.”
“Will do. By the way, is Estelle there yet?”
The door opened and Estelle came in holding a bag from the doughnut shop.
“As a matter of fact, she just got here. Do you want to talk to her?”
“Nah, just tell her that I’ll be hanging around the house today after all. Cliff is taking the day off to visit his son in San Antonio.”
“Thanks. Why don’t you come by after you go to the body shop? I’m anxious to know what you find out.”
“Yes, chief. I’m on it.”
Hurley ran out of the storeroom and yapped at Estelle. That dog could smell food from a mile away.
“Hey, buddy. Why are you here today?” Estelle pulled a corner off a glazed doughnut and gave it to him.
“I felt like having extra security — I mean company — today.”
“Okay, spill the beans. Something is going on, right?”
Estelle and Deena had certainly grown closer over the past few days. That, at least, was one bonus of having her here. Deena pulled the coin out of her pocket. “You’re right. This is what’s going on.”
Estelle listened wide-eyed as Deena told her how she’d found the coin in her mailbox and had gone to the pawn shop.
Estelle got much too much pleasure out of the story about the body shop and Deena’s pants.
“Do you think the coin was a bribe to get you to back off the case?”
“A bribe? I hadn’t considered that. I saw it more as a warning. I mean, it’s not exactly like finding a horse’s head in your bed, but it does make a statement.”
“Are you going to the hospital to check on Billy today?”
“I’m planning on it. Maybe he saw Fisk or whoever was driving the car. I’m sure Guttman will question him after what I told him yesterday.”
“Are you sure? Didn’t you say Guttman thought Billy’s wreck was just a coincidence?”
“Guttman may think Billy is just an accident-prone druggie, but he’s a good cop. He’ll want to find out if Billy knows anything.” Deena sounded more confident than she felt.
Estelle brushed crumbs off her blouse. “By the way, who were you talking to when I came in? Gary?”
“No, Russell. He’s going to drop by the body shop to look for the black car.”
“Oh my. I hope he stays out of trouble. You know he can get a little nuts when he’s nervous.”
“Yes, but I also know he can be a smooth talker when he needs to be.”
Estelle nodded.
“Maybe I should check on Billy before things go much farther. If he has a lead on the car’s driver, we might need to go looking in another direction.”
“You mean besides the four we’ve already followed?” Estelle counted them out. “Abby, Wyatt, Ronnie Clark, and now the mayor.”
“Hey, Abby was all your idea, remember? You and your signs.”
Estelle sucked in a deep breath and whispered, “I was just so certain I was right about those signs.”
* * *
THE GAL AT THE NURSES’ station gave Deena the number of Billy’s room, so she headed down the long corridor to find him. Hopefully, he would be awake. At nine-thirty in the morning, the nurses usually came around to poke and prod at you.
Sure enough, Billy was awake. He looked startled when she poked her head around the open door.
“Want some company?” she asked.
He motioned with his head for her to come in. The room smelled of antiseptic, and the curtains were drawn. Billy’s leg hovered above the bed in a cast held up by a pulley. Both arms were wrapped in bandages. He squirmed as if trying to find a comfortable position.
“Can I do anything for you? Fix your pillow?”
“Nah, but thanks. My chest feels like something’s sitting on it. Hurts every time I take a breath.”
She walked over to the window. “How about some light?”
“No thanks. It puts a glare on the TV.”
“They say broken ribs can be awfully painful. Never had any myself.”
“You’re lucky.” He glanced up at the muted TV. “Thanks for coming by to check on me yesterday. Abby and Leroy told me.”
“You’re welcome. Where’s your mom?”
“She’s at home,” he said, diverting his eyes. “She hates hospitals. I can’t blame her.”
“Have the police been here to talk to you?”
“The nurse said that Detective Guttman came by last night when I was asleep. I kind of figure he’ll be back today. Actually, I hope he does come back.”
She hadn’t expected to hear that. “Why?”
“I’m scared. Somebody tried to kill me. I want the police to figure out who did it.” His eyes seemed dark and sad. “I’ve seen movies. Whenever someone is in the hospital, they’re a sitting duck. I should have a guard outside the door.”
Deena didn’t want to say so, but from her experience, Billy might be right. He wasn’t just being paranoid. “Billy, Abby may have told you that I’m trying to help you. It was my sister-in-law’s coin collection that was stolen, you know, and her driver who was killed.”
“Can you get me police protection? You are working with Guttman, right?”
Deena squirmed. “Well, not really. I’m conducting my own investigation, although I did tell Detective Guttman that I thought someone may have targeted you. I encouraged him to get your story. Also, I told him about the car hitting you the night of the auction.” She bit her lip, hoping Billy wouldn’t be upset with her.
“Good,” he said. “That will save me the trouble. I’m pretty sure it was the same person—same car.”
“So did you get a look at the driver this time?”
“Sort of.” He glanced up at the TV.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw somebody, but it was weird. I’m not sure...”
Either he saw someone or not. What was he hiding? “Billy, were you stoned?”
He wriggled again and moaned. “Not stoned, just a little buzzed.”
“Tell me what you remember. Anything is better than nothing.”
He reached up and rubbed the cast as though trying to scratch his leg underneath it. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but every time I picture the driver, I see a dog.”
“A dog? Like in the car?”
“No, like driving the car.” He must have read the confusion on her face. “You know those big brown dogs with the long ears that they dress up like people and put in calendars?”
“You mean, Weimaraners?”
&nb
sp; “I guess. That’s what I keep picturing anyway.”
This was priceless. Here she was trying to convince Guttman that Billy was a believable witness, and he’s seeing dogs driving cars. Where was a hole she could crawl into?
Billy moaned again. “You don’t believe me, I can tell.”
“Oh, I believe you. That’s the problem. It doesn’t give us anything to go on.”
“Should I lie to the cops and just say I didn’t see the person?”
“No, you should never lie to the police. They are trying to help you.”
He offered a weak smile. “Thanks for believing me.”
“You’re welcome.” She stood up. “Is there anything I can get you before I go?”
“A hamburger and fries would be nice. They’ve got me eating mush.”
“Follow the doctor’s orders. Believe me, that’s the fastest way to get better.”
As she started to leave, she stopped and looked back. “By the way, what was the dog wearing? A shirt and tie? A dress?”
“A long brown wig.”
Chapter 19
Several large boxes of donations had come into the shop. A woman in town who ran estate sales had brought in all the leftover items that didn’t sell. These were the kinds of goodies Deena loved picking through.
She and Estelle rummaged through the boxes, sorting broken goods from things they could sell. Estelle, despite her privileged upbringing, had a good eye for seeing the value in simple objects.
“I can’t believe no one wanted these dishes,” she said. “There’s not a chip on any of them.”
“They were priced too high at the sale. Also, people at estate sales are often searching for antiques.”
“Well, I bet they go quick here in the shop. In fact, maybe I should buy—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Deena said, taking the plate from her hand. “Russell would kill you if you brought any more dishes into the house. You have enough place servings to host the whole town already.”
Stay Sharpe Box Set Page 12
