Dorothy Garlock (13 page)

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Authors: A Place Called Rainwater

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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“Any idea who she was? ”

“It's hard to tell without a head. They're out there searching for it around that sand dune where they found the rest of her.”

“It's hell of a note when a woman is killed like that. Won't do the town any good, that's sure. I'm on my way to volunteer my services to the sheriff. I had an investigative course in law school.”

“I'm sure that he'll welcome any help he can get. This is a sad day for Rainwater. Last night over at the billiard parlor a fellow lopped off a man's thumb because he thought he was cheating — held his hand down on the table and whacked it off before he knew what was happening. Both of them were all likkered up.”

“Was he arrested? ”

“Sittin 'in jail right now.”

“That's a start. I heard the woman was cut up. Not many are that handy with a knife.” Lloyd squinted down at the mayor. “Didn't we pass an ordinance closing the pool halls on Sunday? ”

“Ha! Try to enforce it and you'd have a riot on your hands. What do you think men are going to do on Sunday? Twiddle their thumbs? ”

“They could go to church.”

“Bullshit! ”the mayor snorted. “Use your head. They work all week and I don't fault them for playing a little cards on Sunday.”

“The law is the law. They shouldn't be breaking it, ”Lloyd insisted.

“I suppose you won't want Westfall's amusement park open on Sunday.”

“The council voted to close amusements on Sunday. The sheriff's job is to enforce the law.”

“Lloyd, I've not got time to argue with you today. You'd do us all a favor if you'd talk to the council and get that stupid law off the books.”

“Don't count on me to do that, Orvis.” Lloyd started up the walk. “For us Christians, Sunday is the Sabbath and God said to keep it holy.”

“And for the Jews it's Saturday. Do you want us to close the stores on Saturday? ”

Standing on the porch steps of his store, Mayor Hen-shaw watched the young lawyer walk down the street. He was a good man, he had to admit, even if he was a radical about law and religion. He didn't seem to be as money hungry as some, just too damn straitlaced for his own good. Too bad he couldn't find a nice girl and settle here permanently. When the oil boom was over, Rainwater would need men like him if it was going to survive.

Sheriff Page was hanging up the telephone when Lloyd walked into the office.

“Howdy, Lloyd.” The sheriff looked as if he hadn't slept for a week.

“Morning, Sheriff.”

“What do you want, Lloyd? I'm warning you. Don't give me any hassle about the pool hall being open yesterday. I've got enough shit to wade through this morning.”

The door to the cell room was flung open before Lloyd could answer. He stepped back out of the way as Deputy Franklin prodded two handcuffed prisoners into the room ahead of him. Both stared at the floor, obviously sick from their drinking spree.

“I'll take these two on over to the judge.”

“Get them out of here before they puke on the floor. If they can't pay the fine, bring them back in through the back door. I don't want to look at them anymore today, ”the sheriff growled.

“Bad mood, Sheriff? ”Lloyd asked as soon as the men were out the door.

“Goddamn right. You want to make something out of it? ”

“No, just kidding, Sheriff.” Lloyd held up his hands. “Sorry if my humor didn't sit right. Just trying to brighten things up a bit.”

“Get to the reason for the visit, Lloyd. I've been up all night, seen things that turned my stomach, and I'm in no mood for kiddin 'or small talk.”

“I can understand that. I stopped by to see if there was anything I could do. I've had some experience in this sort of thing. Took a class while I was going to law school.”

“An officer recommended by the United States marshal is coming up from Oklahoma City. He'll be in charge …once he gets here. And that's all right with me. You can talk to him then, if you've still got a mind to.”

“That knife-happy fellow you've got in the back room could be someone to start with. Orvis told me the girl was cut up pretty bad.”

“Cut up? Hell, she was butchered. Fellow that did it knew what he was doing. Bet my life he's done it before.”

“There you are. A fellow that can whack off a man's thumb with one stroke has had some practice.” Lloyd went to the door. “Good luck with your hunt, Sheriff.”

“We'll need more than luck to catch this son-of-a-bitch, ”the sheriff answered without looking up.

Later, in his office, Lloyd polished his glasses with a clean white handkerchief and in his mind reviewed the events of the past few days with satisfaction.

So far, so good. Things were working out well. Very well, indeed.

Hunter Westfall had only two men working in his office in Rainwater. One was the bookkeeper and the other was a young man who acted as jack-of-all-trades. Perry Reade wrote letters, ran errands, took phone messages and even kept track of the women Hunter amused himself with. Conrad, the bookkeeper, kept meticulous records of the money that passed through Hunter's hands.

Both men were exceedingly loyal to Hunter, and he paid for their loyalty with generous salaries.

“Perry, see if you can get Carsie Bakken on the phone. She had a temper fit Saturday night and left while I was at the merchants 'meeting. She's been gone two days and I've not heard from her.”

“Shall I call Tulsa or Kansas City? ”

“Call Tulsa first. She left about the time the southbound train went through.”

Fifteen minutes later Perry came to the door of Hunter's private office.

“I called two numbers in Tulsa and the one in Kansas City. Miss Bakken isn't at either place.”

Hunter sat quietly for a moment. “She wouldn't have stayed in town. She didn't know anyone here. Lord, I hope the woman they found wasn't Carsie.”

“What makes you think it could be? ”

“Just a feeling. She left Saturday night. You know how wild she is. She could have taken up with some deranged person and come to a bad end. The body was found Sunday night. Doc didn't think that she'd been dead long. And Carsie hasn't called. By now she would have been sorry she left and would be wanting to come back.” Hunter put on his hat. “I'm going down to the funeral parlor to talk to Mr. Kyle and see if they are any closer to finding out who she was.” At the door he turned to Perry. “I want you to find out everything you can about a woman named Laura Hopper. Her husband was killed out on a rig. I don't know when. She's got a child about a year and a half.”

As soon as the door closed behind Hunter, Conrad said to Perry Reade, “That man goes through women like I go through a pack of cigarettes.”

Perry shrugged. “So would I, if I had what he has.”

On the street in front of the stores, Hunter nodded to a few people but didn't linger. He walked past the furniture store and entered a small adjacent building with dusty black curtains on the windows and four rows of chairs. Mr. Kyle, the undertaker, encouraged the use of one of the churches for funerals with over thirty mourners.

Hunter rapped on the door to the back room. After a brief delay, Mr. Kyle opened it. He was wiping his hands on a towel. Hunter made no apology for disturbing him but got right to his reason for being there.

“Are you any closer to identifying the body of the woman found out south of town? ”

“No. It's kind of hard to identify a person without a head. I've got nine pieces of her in there but that doesn't tell us who she was.”

“Oh, Lord.” Hunter took several quick deep breaths. “Did you find any birthmarks? ”he asked.

“Mr. Westfall, the sheriff has given me strict orders not to give out any information. I'm sorry.”

“That's all right. I'm sorry I asked, Mr. Kyle. I should have gone directly to the sheriff. I'll do that now.” Hunter put his fingers to the brim of his hat, left the funeral parlor and headed down the street. Dammit, if Kyle had said that there were no birthmarks on the body, it would have saved him from going to the sheriff.

Hunter saw Lloyd Madison leave the sheriff's office as he approached it. He was relieved that the lawyer headed in the other direction. Something about the man disturbed him, and it wasn't the red splotch on his face. It had to do with the way he sat back, listened, then jumped in to defend something or someone, regardless of right or wrong. It was as if his mission in life were to make Rainwater a paradise on earth, where good prevailed and evil was punished. Madison, Hunter was sure, would do everything he could to prevent him from building the amusement park even if it would be good for the town.

Sheriff Page looked at him with tired, bloodshot eyes when he walked into the office.

“This place has been as busy as a free whorehouse this morning, ”he growled. “I've had everyone in here that could walk on two legs.”

“Morning, Sheriff. I know you've got a lot on your mind, but I just want to know if the body you found had a birthmark; a dark brown spot shaped like a butterfly.”

“Why do you ask? ”

“Mind if I sit down? ”

“Have a seat. What's on your mind? ”

“A lady friend from Tulsa has been staying at my house, ”Hunter said after he pulled a straight chair up to the side of the desk and sat down. “She up and left Saturday night while I was at the merchants 'meeting. I haven't been able to get in touch with her and when I heard about the body … well, I'm worried about her.”

“Hummm.” Sheriff Page leaned back in his swivel chair. “Your lady friend had a birthmark? ”

“Yes. Carsie had a dark brown spot shaped like a butterfly about the size of a half dollar on her lower abdomen.” Hunter watched the sheriff swivel back and forth in his chair. When a minute passed and the sheriff didn't say anything, Hunter took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “God, Sheriff. Say something. Tell me that there isn't a birthmark on that body.”

“You saw it many times, huh? ”

“I'll not beat around the bush. Carsie was a prostitute. A high-class one. She came to visit for one reason only and I saw her naked many times.” Hunter looked the sheriff in the eye. He hated exposing his personal life, but it couldn't be helped.

“You'd recognize such a mark.”

“The body you found …had one? Oh, Lord! ”Hunter turned and looked out the window while he composed himself.

“The body had a mark, ”the sheriff said to his back. “You'll have to look at it to know if she was your lady friend.”

“I don't know … if I can.”

“You'll have to, and the sooner, the better. I'll go over with you to take a look.” Sheriff Page got up and put on his hat. “Let's go out the back.” He led the way past the cell block, where one prisoner lay snoring on a bunk, and out into the bright sunlight.

Hunter walked beside the sheriff. A part of him wished that he had stayed in his office and tended to his own business. The other part desperately wanted to know if Carsie had been the victim of a vicious killer.

“An officer from Oklahoma City will be here by late afternoon.” It was the only comment the sheriff made until they reached the funeral parlor, where he knocked sharply on the back door.

Ernest Kyle opened the door and they stepped inside. The sharp odor of embalming fluid stung Hunter's nostrils and his heart began a mad dance in his chest.
God, don't let it be Carsie.
He didn't love her or even like her very much, but he had known her body very well. She had been a willing and daring partner in their sexual games.

“There's not much I can do with body parts but keep them packed in ice.” Kyle's voice came to Hunter as if from a distance, then the sheriff's.

“Mr. Westfall would like to see the woman's lower abdomen. No use him seeing the rest of her.”

“I've got her here in the back room where it's cool. Ice melts so damn fast in this weather. I had a hundred pounds brought in this morning. Is the county going to pay for it, Ira? ”

The sheriff grunted something, then said, “We'll wait until you uncover her.”

“There's not really much to see.” Ernest switched on an overhead light.

In the middle of the room was a waist-high table with a canvas-wrapped bundle on it. The legs of the table had been lifted on one end. A bucket sat on the floor beneath it to catch the water dripping from the melting ice. The undertaker removed a clamp from the middle of the canvas and drew it back. He looked over his shoulder and motioned to the two men in the doorway.

Hunter approached and gazed down. His view was from the navel to the pubic hair. He closed his eyes when he saw what he feared he would see, then opened them again to be sure. The brown spot approximately two inches above the dark pubic hair left no doubt in his mind that it was Carsie, yet he was compelled to see more.

“May I see one of her hands? ”

The undertaker pulled back a piece of the canvas. After glancing down at the curled fingers with long pointed fingernails, Hunter turned away and headed for the door.

“It's her.” His voice came out with a croaking sound he didn't recognize himself. Hunter kept his back turned while the sheriff spoke to the undertaker.

“Not a word to anyone about that brown spot, Ernest. You and the doctor, me and Westfall are the only ones who know about it besides the killer. It may be a way to trip him up.

“It's a relief to know who she was, Mr. Westfall, ”the sheriff continued. “Thank you for coming forward. Come on back to the office and I'll write down the particulars. The officer will want to talk to you when he gets here.”

Justine was told about the murdered woman after Radna finished feeding her breakfast. Jill left the telling to Thad, while she stood in the doorway of her aunt's room so that she could keep an eye on the front desk.

“Ah, law. The poor girl.” Justine's voice trembled. A scared look came into her eyes. She seemed to shrink down in the bed. “There's never been a woman murdered here that I know of.”

“We don't know how she was murdered. I pray to God that she was dead before he started cutting her up.” Thad had a hard time saying the words, just as he had a hard time getting out of his head the vision of those white limbs lying in the dirt.

When Justine tried to lift her hand, Thad took it gently in both of his big rough ones.

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