Jason Deas - Cameron Caldwell 01 - Private Eye (8 page)

“Oh, right.”

“No, no, keep going—this is gold,” Claude tried grabbing another piece of bacon.

“Why don’t you get back to telling us how you found out about Billy Prescott’s death,” Cam suggested.

“If I have to.” He paused to swallow. “So, as people were milling about, Turner pulled up. He had just been at Hank’s station where he heard about it. He said that one of Hank’s customers had seen Blanca throwing up on the side of the road. The customer stopped to see what was going on and noticed the bloody hand. He called his friend Jeffrey at the paper who was on his way to breakfast and he rerouted and got all the details. Jeffrey recognized the ring.”

“I guess he would since he covered the story when Billy put on that stupid tournament,” Daphne said.

“Jeffrey also found the knife.”

“What knife?” both Cam and Daphne queried in unison.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the knife. Jeffrey called EMS thinking the hand might be able to be saved in case whomever it belonged to was still alive. He said while he was on the phone with them and Blanca was gathering her wits he paced the side of the road. He’s a Vietnam vet, so he’s seen ugly before. The bloody hand didn’t bother him. As he did, he noticed the morning sun shining on something near, and when he checked it out, he found a bloody knife.”

“Did he describe it?” Cam asked.

“Yeah. He said it had a long blade with a seated back.”

Images of Billy stabbing Chief Lee shot through Cam’s mind and the knife matched.

“That’s Billy’s knife!”

“How do you know?” Daphne asked.

“He was wearing it on his belt yesterday when he came to my office.”

“He took it out for you to see?” Daphne asked, before it hit her that Cam had seen the knife in his mind.

“I know knives,” Cam lied.

“Oh,” she said, recovering, “right. Well, this should be an exciting day in Miner’s Bluff.”

“Especially for you,” Claude said, to Daphne.

“And why’s that?”

“Blanca heard you didn’t make it in to work today and she wants to talk to you as soon as you surface.”

Daphne beat Blanca to the punch and drove straight to the police station after breakfast. She didn’t want to give her the pleasure of finding her first.

Daphne walked into the station and spotted Blanca. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I heard you were sick this morning and I was just checking,” Daphne said, feigning innocence.

“Have
you
ever seen a bloody severed hand?” Blanca asked defensively.

“Can’t say that I have. I heard you wanted to talk with me.”

“Let’s go to my office.”

Blanca’s office had absolutely no personality. No pictures, no color, just bricks and mortar.

“Where were you last night?”

Daphne wanted to tell her more than anything that she was in Cam’s bed, but decided to play hardball for a while instead.

“With a friend. Why?”

“Why? Really? Why? Well, I’ll tell you why. Your number one enemy is dead. That’s why.”

“So you found a body?”

Blanca gave her a sinister look. “No. But let’s be real about this. We found Billy’s hand, but not Billy. We’ve called every hospital within a hundred miles. He’s dead.”

“As long as we’re being real, tell me this. If I was going to kill Billy Prescott, why would I leave his hand and his knife in the middle of town? I don’t like him, you’re right about that, but I don’t hate him enough to cut off his hand and leave it in the middle of the road. This sounds to me like someone was trying to send a message.”

“Why don’t you let me be the detective here and you can just answer questions.”

“As long as you promise not to throw up on me.”

“That’s low, Daphne. Low. What have I ever done to you to deserve that?”

“How about suspecting me of a murder?”

“Fine. Point taken. Let me be blunt then. Do I really think you did it? No. Do I have to do my job and cover all my bases? Yes. And unfortunately, you are one of the bases I have to cover. Billy was putting the hard-court press on you and your brother to sell land you didn’t want to sell, and he was also incredibly close to uncovering the secrets of your moonshine business.”

“Fine. I spent the night with Cam.” Daphne watched her face. If she cared, she didn’t show it.

“The new guy in town?”

“Yes.”

“And he’ll vouch for that?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t planned. I dropped him off at home and had a drink and then another, before I knew it I had too many to drive.”

“Are you two in a relationship?”

“No.” Daphne swore she saw Blanca’s face ease.

“The reason I ask is because people in relationships will lie for each other.”

“Sure. I understand.”

“Do you have anything else you think I need to know at this point?”

“Like what?”

“Like, who do you think did it?”

“If I had to guess, I’d guess his ex, Alice.”

Blanca nodded in agreement.

Chapter Twelve

Cam sat at the bar in his office and nursed his hangover with coffee and Baileys. Blanca pulled up in her squad car and parked. Cam walked behind the bar and waited for her to enter.

“Belly up to the bar,” he teased when she walked inside. “What can I get for you?”

“Something with caffeine.”

“Consider it done.” Cam grabbed a glass, filled it with ice, and reached under the bar for a can. He popped it and filled her glass, setting the glass and the rest of the can in front of her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I think you know. Do I have to say it?”

“Nah. You need my help. You don’t have the stomach for this type of crime.”

“Ha ha. I guess I’m the joke of the town.”

“Most people throw up their first time seeing something like that,” Cam consoled. “Don’t beat yourself up. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that—it wasn’t very nice.”

“I guess I deserve it,” Blanca said, taking a long drink of her soda.

“Maybe you do. People aren’t bullet proof, including you. You can act tough as nails, but life will rat you out.” Cam picked up the can next to her glass and refilled her drink.

“I hate to say it, but I think you’re right. I got schooled this morning. I’ve seen a dead body before, a murder scene even, Chief Lee’s, but this was different somehow.”

“It was a surprise. Your mind knew what you were walking into at Chief Lee’s house. This time it didn’t. And I have a feeling your mind likes to be in control.”

She smiled. The first genuine smile Cam had ever gotten from her. He almost melted.

“You’re pretty wise. A drunk, but pretty wise.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“I need to hire you.”

“We’ve already determined that you can’t afford me. What are you going to throw in—free cream and sugar for my endless cups of coffee?”

“No. Information.”

“What kind of information do you have that I would need?”

“Your old boss called me yesterday.”

Cam froze. She was speaking of his former Chief, the murderer. He tried not to show his interest.

“Oh?”

He didn’t succeed.

“That’s what I thought. I don’t know what happened there, but you’re obviously running from something and he wants to keep a close eye on you. I swore up and down on my oath that I wouldn’t discuss this with you, so if you want to know what he wanted to know, you’ll help me and tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I’m going to need a little more before I make a deal.”

“OK. He tiptoed around the fact that you may or may not be a fugitive. He couldn’t seem to decide. I’m a pretty good judge of character and I got the feeling that he’s as slimy as they come.”

“You got that right.”

“To prove my instincts right I offered to arrest you yesterday and hold you until they could pick you up. He declined, preferring that I just keep an eye on you.”

“Hmm.”

“That’s all you have to say? Hmm?”

“I’m thinking here. How much can I trust you?”

“Totally.”

“Can I trust you enough to tell you about a murder, where I know who did it, a person who is still walking around free, without you acting? Can you do that?”

“Are you planning on putting him behind bars?”

“It’s complicated, but yes.”

“OK. Spill.”

Cam poured himself another drink and told her all about his old boss and how he discovered he had killed someone in his old town. When he finished his story, Blanca sat dumbfounded.

“Is that all true?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“OK. You help me and I’ll help you. I’ll string him along and act as though I’m keeping a close eye on you. He seemed very concerned. What do you say?” Blanca asked extending her hand.

Cam reached his hand across the counter and grasped hers.

“Deal.”

Cam drank until four. Lightly, at first. The closer it got to Daphne’s closing time the heavier the pours became. He stumbled to her door. When he opened it and walked through, he tripped across the threshold. He sped toward the counter, crashed into it, and tried to sit as if he were James Dean cool. It didn’t work. Daphne walked out with an amused look on her face.

“We were going to talk.” He looked at her with bleary eyes.

“I said we’d talk later, not this afternoon.”

“I just happen to be free.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with me giving you a ride home would it?”

“No. I just don’t like loose ends.”

“Fine. My last boyfriend was a drinker. I’ve been there and done that. I’m not ready to make a return trip.”

“I see. Choices. You want a sober me or a nothing from me. Thanks for being honest, but I’ve also been there and I’ve done that and I’m not going back either.”

“Then we’re at a stalemate.”

“We are.”

“All right then.”

“Can you give me a ride home?”

“Of course I can.”

Chapter Thirteen

Hayes, the south Georgia town where Cam had been born and raised neared a hundred degrees before eleven a.m. Growing up he never minded the heat, but he always thought the gnats were a nuisance. Hayes was a lot like Miner’s Bluff in that everybody knew what was going on in everybody else’s lives. Insiders ran the town and those that had been there the longest seemed to be the most prosperous. The Rowde’s were among the inside crowd.

“I talked with the Chief in Cam’s new town this morning,” Rowdy said. Officially, Chief Rowde, but everybody called him Rowdy. They meant no disrespect.

“What did he say?” his number one, Dell asked.

“It’s a she for crying out loud.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, dumbass. That’s what
she
means.”

Dell looked hurt.

“I’m sorry, Dell. I’m just frustrated and you know how I get when I’m stressed.”

“I know. You get all flustered and you start cussing everybody and you say things you don’t mean.”

Dell happened to be Rowdy’s younger brother. If there was a picture dictionary for old sayings, Dell would have his photo next to the one that read, “What’s wrong with him? Was he dropped on his head?” Dell was dropped on his head as a baby. Twice.

“Tell me, how do I look?” Rowdy asked, changing the subject.

Dell looked up to Rowdy with a heavenly smile. While his senses were duller than a rubber band, what he lacked in brains he made up with in loyalty.

“Your cowboy hat really covers up your bald head.”

“No. You know I’ve been trying to lose some weight. What do you think?” he asked turning in profile.

“Oh yeah, new clothes, but the same you.”

“Thanks for nothing,” Rowdy sat down.

Both Rowdy and Dell were big. Rowdy stood well over six and a half feet tall. He hid his three hundred pounds well. Dell was under six feet and weighed about the same. Where Rowdy had little to no hair, Dell had a sandy blond mop.

“You’re still the handsomest brother I have.”

“I’m the only brother you have.”

“Right on.”

“Chief Gomez confirmed that he was still drinking.”

“Boom!” Dell said, making the motion of a bomb exploding with his hands. “He’s gonna flip his lid one day.”

“I’m afraid of that. I fear he’s going to drink too much one day, if that’s possible for him, and blow up. And he won’t be going to the police. He’ll be coming back to get us.”

Dell agreed by nodding his head rapidly.

“So we go get him first,” Rowdy proposed.

“I’ll go get him tonight,” Dell offered.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Dell, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Why did we have to kill Clarence?”

“Oh, God! Do we have to go over this again? Dell, we have been over this at least twenty-five times.”

“One more time,” Dell said, holding up two fingers.

“I owed him two hundred thousand dollars. Remember how I had that inside information that the new highway was coming this way and they were planning on putting an outlet mall on part of his land. I was going to make millions upon millions of dollars selling the land to the government for the highway and the developers for the mall.”

“Do we shop there?”

“They never built it,” Rowdy was seething as he yanked his hat off his head.

“That’s right,” Dell said, as his eyes searched for answers inside his head. “Why didn’t you just write him a check and pay him back?”

“Because I don’t have two hundred thousand dollars. Luckily we did it all without the bank’s knowledge as a gentlemen’s agreement—something called owner financing. He trusted me to not work up any papers. When I started missing payments, he threatened to get the courts involved.”

“I would have loaned you the money.”

“We’ve been over this before, too. Your baseball cards aren’t worth that much.”

“But…” Dell tried to add something else when Rowdy cut him off.

“Your Garbage Pail Kid cards aren’t worth that much either.”

“You could of just gave him the land back.”

“No. He somehow found out about how the highway was supposed to come through here and got real angry with me for trying to deceive him. I tried to give it back, but when the deal fell through and they picked another route, he didn’t want the land back. He wanted the money.”