C16 - Money Talks
In Chicago, the snow was still coming down as Walter McDonald stood by the crates of liquor stacked in an eastside warehouse. This was the biggest shipment ever.
“Get the rest of these crates loaded before the roads are all closed, and we are stuck with a warehouse full of Canadian booze. Artie, you make sure the trucks are loaded right. Don’t none of you bozos break a single bottle of my booze. Fred, you take Burnie and a relief driver with you.”
Fred stretched his shoulders from side to side and limped over to the water cooler saying, “McDonald, I drove this load all the way from Canada. I’ve been on the road for the last eight days and I need a rest. I don’t plan on getting back in the cab of that truck until I’ve slept. I will leave at first light; a few more hours will not make you any richer. If you want your thugs to drive that big rig on these icy roads, let them have it. If not, I will be on my way in the morning.” He left the warehouse passing Smitty as he exited the building.
McDonald hated the independent attitude of this ornery little truck driver. Fred didn’t display the respect for him the other men did. “That old fool doesn’t seem to realize I could waste him as fast as squashing a bug,” McDonald said.
“Boss, Pappy is right, he needs some sleep. I don’t trust these men to handle that big rig in this weather. Once an hour, starting now, I will send one of the small trucks out of here that should scatter them out a little. Tomorrow I will have Pappy on his way,” Smitty said.
“You just make sure it happens and quit treating that old man like he is your grandfather,” McDonald said.
Smitty laughed out loud and said, “I don’t like all this merchandise sitting in the warehouse any more than you. But tomorrow is better; maybe we will get a break in the weather. Too bad Willy’s not here to see the product of all his hard work.”
Walking away from the trucks McDonald looked around at the assembly of trucks in the warehouse. “If the feds found this place, we would be up the river for a long time. Is there any word on the street?” he asked.
“No one has seen Willy. We almost had him at his apartment. When we got there the stove was still hot, Bonnie sure can fry-up good chicken! He had to have had this all planned in advance. I don’t think he’s in Chicago or I would have turned him up by now,” Smitty said.
“Keep this quiet but keep looking. That flashy broad will surely be easy to spot. No one steals from me…find him Smitty and find him quick. I’m going to personally take care of him and that dame. Keep looking and keep me posted. If he’s not in Chicago, then track him down. Check with our friends in the police department. They should be able to help us locate him and make sure they keep this quiet!” McDonald ordered.
“Look, McDonald! Just put a contract out on him! He will turn up dead in twenty-four hours!” Smitty responded.
“I want this done quietly. He cheated me and I don’t want it known until he is dead!” yelled McDonald.
In Huntsville, Texas, the bell on the front door jingled as Cage walked into the local doctor’s office. Grinning at the spectacled man sitting in a chair he said, “Hello, Doc.” For a moment there was no recognition on the face of Dr. Nathan Mueller then slowly a grin widened.
“Cage Cruise, I hardly would have recognized you! Why, Boy, you have grown up these past few years!” Doc said as he stood and gave Cage a hearty handshake.
“It has been a long time, Doc. I see you’re still kicking,” Cage said smiling.
“Somebody has to deliver the babies and write out the death certificates. I sure have been doing that lately. I guess that is why you are in town? How can I help you?” Doc asked.
“Doc, what can you tell me about these killings?” Cage inquired.
“The Smith boy, I guess we shouldn’t call him a boy, was killed three days shy of his twentieth birthday. I just gave him a physical a few weeks ago. Dave was trying to get in the Army just like his Uncle Judd. He was a borderline diabetic and failed the entrance exam. I told him if he didn’t stop drinking, he would be dead in a year. That seems somewhat prophetic now, doesn’t it?
Cage responded, “It sure does! What else did you find, Doc?”
Doc continued, “Dave Smith had been choked and ruffed up a bit; probably in a fight. I can tell you that the same gun killed them both. Smith was on the ground when he was shot. Ironically, he was leaning against a tombstone. The older man, Jack Parker, was sitting in his vehicle.” Handing Cage the bullets he had taken from the bodies he said, “Thirty-eight caliber; I collected all the bullets but didn’t give them to the sheriff. He might lose them.”
“Doc, when you get your report written up, I need a copy,” Ranger Cruise stated.
“Come back this afternoon. I will have it ready for you,” Doc said.
C17 - The Lull After the Storm
Bonnie sat in front of a big round mirror combing her thick black hair. Each stroke was a tug of war, but after a few minutes of torture the work became easier and she sat back to admire her hair. “I think I would like to get my hair dyed,” she said. Getting no response, she continued combing as the brush now glided through the rich black hair.
The headache had all but subsided as he watched her from across the room. Yawning he rubbed the sleep from his puffy eyes. The consequences of his prank crept back into his mind and he shuttered.
Bonnie continued, “I see you are finally waking up! You were sleeping well, and I didn’t want to wake you. I was just saying…”
Willy cut her off as he sat up in the bed and leaned against the headboard saying, “I have a different idea about your appearance; leave your hair alone, I like your natural color. I have an idea or two and they include you, Doll Face.”
“Willy, just leave me out of your plans. I want nothing to do with your means of destroying yourself. What we really need to do is get out of this place before you end up staying here for another three years. Have you considered working for a living, as in getting an honest job?” Bonnie asked.
As if he had not heard a word she said, he continued, “Bonnie, I want you to go shopping tomorrow. I don’t want these town folks to see the sleazy way you dress.”
“I don’t dress sleazy!” she retorted.
“Well…what I mean is you have a lot going for you and it makes every man that passes turn to have a second look,” Willy said sweetly. “I want you to go shopping and buy some modest dresses. Maybe you can get something nice you can wear to church.”
“Huh! What is wrong with you? If I step in a church the roof will cave in! Are you planning on robbing a church or something?” Bonnie replied sarcastically.
“Bonnie, quit trying to be funny and listen to me!” Willy said. “It won’t hurt us to be respectable. We have plenty of money and I want to find a place in the country where there are not a lot of neighbors. We can become respectable ranchers. I want a secluded place to stay for a while. Tomorrow I will start looking; I need a place with a big…” Looking out the window he saw Ed head across the street. “I will be back in a little while. I need to see a man about some business.”
“Willy, why don’t we just get out of here? I’m not sure about this town. We can be respectable somewhere else. The prison down the street scares me,” Bonnie pleaded.
“We can’t… Doll Face,” Willy said and went out the door. In the hall he turned for the stairs and came face to face with the ranger. The star caught his eye as he passed, and they bid each other a good day.
Outside the boarding house Willy went to the mechanic shop of Ed Weeks. The tin building was crowded with old cars in various stages of disrepair. On three sides of the building an array of cars that had been robbed of parts stood in weeds and brush. One old sedan without a front door had become the home of a rather large and hairy dog. Willy rubbed the dog’s head as he passed, and the response was a vigorous wagging of his long shaggy tail. Entering the garage, he stood by a potbelly wood burner and watched Ed change a generator.
Neither man acknowledged each ot
her for a while, then from under the hood Ed asked, “Mister, you need something?” Getting no reply, Ed looked back over his shoulder. The man made him nervous and he didn’t like not getting a response, so he continued, “Its closing time. You didn’t come in a car. Are you broke down? W,hat is it?”
Stepping away from the warm stove, Willy leaned against the fender of the car Ed Weeks was working on and said, “I need a car. It doesn’t have to be pretty just dependable with new tires and the fastest engine around these parts.”
“Sounds like you plan on running moon shine…wanting an outfit like that, what kind of business you in?” Ed questioned.
“I’ve heard you have built a shine car or two. You think you could build me a fast car?” Willy asked.
“Mister, I can build you a fast car from the junk I have parked out back,” Ed said proudly.
“I don’t want one that is known or can be traced,” Willy said.
“You need your car fixed, I’m your man, other than that I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t know what you are getting at. Are you a lawman or something?” Ed asked.
“I’m no lawman, just a businessman looking for the right man to do some business with. I don’t waste a man’s time for small change,” Willy answered.
“In case you haven’t heard, two people in this burg have been killed! There is a killer lose. I don’t know you! For all I know you are a lawman or the killer. You’re not from around here so, what’s your game?” Ed asked.
“One thing you can be sure of, I don’t go around killing people,” Willy said. Ed was getting nervous and wanted nothing else to do with this stranger. “How about you and I discuss how we can make a lot of money in a short period of time.”
“How ‘bout I go and tell the sheriff you are up to something,” Ed said.
Willy responded, “Suit yourself. I’ll be around town for a while. If you change your mind, look me up. But don't wait too long. This opportunity will not last much longer.” Willy knew the type of man he had just baited. Weeks was every bit as bad as Smitty. Leaving the garage, he went back across the town square.
C18 - The Plan
At dusk Shane Thomas Taylor walked into the bar on 11th Street. Standing just inside the door to let his eyes adjust, he scanned the tables looking for a familiar face. Across the room Ed called for him to join him at a booth against the back wall.
“I haven’t seen you for a long time. What have you been up to lately?” Ed asked.
“It’s been too cold to do anything but stay by the fire,” Thomas replied.
“Judy! Bring us another round over here,” Ed said as Thomas settled into a chair against the wall.
“I’ll have to see some identification if Thomas is getting one of these beers!” responded the waitress.
“Just bring me two beers and a coke. I feel really thirsty!” Ed said as the waitress walked away.
“Where has Bart been hanging out since he became the sheriff?” Ed asked.
“I don’t care where he is hanging out. I never liked being around him and still don’t. I guess he is still living in the house down on Sycamore at the edge of town,” Thomas said.
“After we finish these beers we need to ride over and set a spell with our new sheriff,” Ed said.
“I’m not interested in having any conversations with Bart,” Thomas said.
“No need to be that way. Bart doesn’t have any friends as it is,” Ed said.
“That’s because he’s such a jerk. I can’t imagine the town hanging a badge on that man,” Thomas said.
Thomas leaned his chair against the wall and took a long drink of the beer in his hand and said, “As soon as the weather warms, I’m going to do some trot line fishing on the Trinity.”
“That’s a good idea. I like to bait a hook myself,” Ed replied.
The two left the bar and drove to the rundown house on the edge of town. Broken cars and trash littered the yard. Under a Sycamore tree an old pickup sat. The motor had been pulled using a limb to support the weight. The bed of the truck had been the logical place to hold trash and was filled with cans and broken parts. The two drove up in the driveway carrying a six pack of beer and parked behind the sheriff’s car. Blowing the horn, they got out and sat on the fender of the police car looking around at the mess.
Bart came out of the house; his uniform shirt off and asked, “Kid, you old enough to be drinking that beer? Especially sitting on the fender of my police car!”
Pitching Bart a beer, Ed asked, “What is going on with you these days, Sheriff? Since you took office, we’ve been having a regular crime wave here in Huntsville.”
Bart smiled at the two and with an opener he had on his key chain popped the top of the beer. “Ed, guess who was one of the first persons in my office after the murders at the cemetery?” Bart asked and then answered his own question. “Judd Smith…I didn’t even know Judd Smith was kin to Dave Smith!”
“You didn’t know Dave was Judd’s nephew?” Ed asked.
“I do now. Nobody knows much about that family,” Bart said.
“Dave Smith was a loser and never had a dime for a beer. How about inviting us in? This night air is cold standing out here in the yard. I want to talk to you both for a different reason,” Ed said.
“Who do you want me to arrest?” Bart chuckled. Inside they all sat down at the kitchen table and opened another round.
“I had a visitor this morning and a strange fellow was he. He came into my shop and looked the place over. Came right out and asked me if I wanted to do some funny business. He knew I built shine haulers. Said we could make some big money real quick if I was up to it. I told him I might go and see the sheriff about our conversation but that didn’t scare him any,” Ed stated.
“Could he be a cop? I didn’t get a name but he’s tall, black hair early twenties or so, a hard face, about my size,” Ed said.
“You ever seen him before?” asked Bart.
“Nope, he’s new in town. I doubt he knows me. The guy sure was getting at something crooked. We could make a lot of money fast and easy, he says to me. I don’t know why he picked me and that bothers me,” Ed said.
Bart rubbed his chin, pondered the situation and said, “He might know you was making shine haulers. I don’t think I like the way this smells. The murders…now this gent shows up. Where is he staying?”
“First time I saw him was at the diner. He was sitting with a good-looking woman having breakfast. I guess he is staying at the diner boarding house. Why don’t you make like a sheriff and get the low down on this guy?” Ed said.
“I think we should meet with him and see what he has to say. Wouldn’t you like to start building cars again? Harlan is dead, but Judd is still around,” Bart said.
“I don’t want anything to do with this,” Thomas snapped.
“Now hang on Tom Cat, he also asked me to get him a car that is fast. Why, Kid, he may need a first-class driver and there’s no one around here as good as you,” Ed said.
“He might be planning to rob banks and want me to be his getaway driver. Nothing doing! I’m not interested!” Thomas said emphatically.
Across town Cage entered the medical clinic where the doctor sat reading a Houston newspaper. “I wondered how long it would take you to get back for this report,” Doc said.
“I’ve been busy, Doc. I need to see the clothing the victims were wearing especially Smith,” Cage requested.
“I put everything in bags; figured you would need to see them. Hold on one minute while I turn off a pot on the stove,” Doc replied.
Digging though the clothing Cage held up a shirt that was covered with dried blood. The collar was partially torn away.
“Which one was wearing this shirt, Doc?” Cage inquired.
“That’s Smith’s shirt. It looks to me like it was ripped while fighting. The assailant was probably holding him by his collar,” Doc speculated.
“Doc, did you check the clothes’ pockets?” Cage questioned.
“Let me see the candy.” Cage requested.
Doc handed the melted candy to Cage. “This candy has O’Hara’s candy name and logo,” Doc stated.
“Doc, do you suppose that there might be a candy jar or something in the back of the store? Dave might have snatched a piece of candy as he left!” Cage said.
“That’s what I’m thinking, and it would place him in the back of the store. This soft candy could not have lasted long in a jean pocket. It would have had to be put in that morning,” Doc said.
“That would place Smith in the store that morning,” Cage said. “Someone was supposed to have seen Smith’s old car on the square the morning of the murders; do you know who that could be?”
“Franks may know. He runs a clothing store across the square from the candy store. He is one of the early risers. Franks always opens the store before the sun comes up then goes for coffee while his helper watches the store,” Doc stated.
“See you later, Doc! I better go visit the local candy store,” Cage turned to leave.
“Wait for me, Boy! You are not leaving me behind after that bit of detective work. Besides, I need to beat O’ Hara out of a piece of candy,” Doc said.
A chime rang as Doc Mueller and Cage entered the candy store. Without acknowledging O’Hara, they began looking in the candy cases for the candy that had been found in the jean pocket. From behind a newspaper O’Hara asked, “Doc, you and the kid ranger have a sweet tooth acting up on you today?”
“Mr. O’Hara, is this all the candy you sell?” Cage asked when they couldn’t locate the candy they were looking for.
“Why, can’t you find something you like?” O’Hara inquired with a smile.
“We like everything we see but we are looking for something very special,” Cage said.
“O’Hara we are trying to solve a crime here….so do you have more candy or not?” Doc questioned.
“Yes, you impertinent old saw bones! I make a very special candy in the back and it is my best seller,” O’Hara responded.
Doing Time In Texas, Book 2 Page 7
