Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 12 - Murder Among Friends (23 page)

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Authors: Kent Conwell

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - P.I. - Texas & New Mexico

BOOK: Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 12 - Murder Among Friends
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He was still alive. Taking no chances, I tied him securely.

I found Alex on the porch, spitting up blood from his
busted ribs that had obviously punctured his lungs. Despite
his pain, I complimented myself with a grin for fashioning
such an effective trap with next to nothing to work with.

After securing their weapons, I helped Alex inside, and
then dragged the still unconscious Hymie down the front
steps by his feet, taking a perverted delight in letting the
back of his head bang off each step. Then I managed to heft
him into the trunk of the Ford Taurus.

I looked down at Alex. “I’m going for a doctor. If you
leave here, you’ll die. You need a hospital. Same for Maury
upstairs. You understand?”

Clenching his teeth, he looked up at me through painfilled eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just hurry back”

The sheriff at Lost Lake stuck Hymie in a cell and sent
the local paramedics out to the Carmony place. “I’m leaving this feller in here just until I get this straightened out,”
he announced, his light blue eyes giving me a piercing
glare. “I got no idea what’s going on, but I’ll blasted well
get to the bottom of it. I ain’t one of your city boys that has
to go around making sure none of the local politicians ain’t
going to have their little love lives all messed up” He nodded to a chair beside his desk. “Now suppose you start”

When I finished, he leaned back and studied me. The
lines in his craggy face ran together in concentration. “It
sounds mighty pretty, mighty well pieced together, but you
got no hard proof. All them fellers got to do is deny they
told you anything”

I grinned. “Don’t worry, sheriff. I got me an ace in the
hole”

Five minutes later, I played it.

The sheriff and I looked at Hymie through the cold, iron
bars of the cell. The sheriff explained my accusations.
Hymie grinned-no, he sneered, and then said, “Sheriff, I don’t know what he’s talking about. Me and my friends was
taking a little vacation. One started to fall off a cliff and the
other one grabbed him. That’s how they both got hurt” He
gave me a sly grin.

I stepped forward. “What about Copper Canyon, Hymie?
You remember Copper Canyon, don’t you?”

He stared at me in defiance. “I never heard of it” I had to
hand it to him. He was carrying his bluff right down to the
last period in the sentence.

A faint grin ticked up one side of my lips. “No? What do
you want to bet Maury and Alex have heard about it?”

He dragged the tip of his tongue over his dry lips and
shot a nervous glance at the sheriff. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about”

I shrugged. “No? Well, we’ll ask Maury and Alex. I got a
feeling they’re hurting so bad right now that the last thing
they want to do is take the fall for you and Cooper, especially if he’s going to make off with the half million.”

The sheriff looked at me in surprise, and then glared accusingly at Hymie, who grabbed the bars and, clenching
his teeth, glared at me. If looks could have killed, I would
have been burned to a crispy critter right then. After several
moments, however, his shoulders slumped. He staggered
back a couple of steps and plopped down on the hard bunk
and buried his face in his hands. “What do you want to
know?”

 

Chief Pachuca frowned up at me when I entered his office. His eyes slid over the new knot on my forehead. He
shook his head. “So, what kind of trouble did you cause
me now?”

After he heard my story, he called D.A. Investigator
Mark Swain over and made me repeat it.

When I finished, Pachuca handed Mark a thick packet.
“Here are their confessions incriminating Frank Cooper of
the Tri-County Credit Union, signed and sealed by the appropriate law officials of Cristo County, New Mexico. Sheriff Garcia sent them by Boudreaux here”

Swain pursed his lips. “You mentioned a Rita Johnson at
the credit union.” He held up the packet. “Is she in here?”

“No” I hesitated, trying to pick my words. “I don’t know
how she is involved with Cooper. I do know she’s the one
who steered me to Lost Lake. She said Edwards had fished
up there often, but no one knew him. I’ll wager Cooper put
her up to it. And,” I added, “the armored car guards said
someone came in and left before Edwards came in. It could
have been her”

Swain glanced at Pachuca. “Can you pick Cooper up for
me, Chief?”

“No problem,” he replied, reaching for the phone. “At
the same time, I’ll send a unit out to Copper Canyon”

Swain studied me a moment, and then waved the packet
at me and with a grin, said, “I’ll take care of it. If I need
you, I’ll call. Looks like this clears your father.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Until next time”

He laughed.

After Swain left, Pachuca looked up at me with an expression that looked half impatient and half amused. “Well,
Boudreaux. As I see it, you didn’t break any of my rules,
but you sure bent a couple of them like pretzels”

I was not sure just how he meant it, but I decided to take
his remark as a compliment. “Thanks, Chief.”

He nodded curtly. “Just don’t do it again, you hear?”

The Edwards were my next stop. I dreaded it even though
I told myself Debbie and her mother expected the worst.

They took the news with a sense of relief. “At least now we
know,” Mrs. Edwards muttered, dabbing at the tears rolling
down her cheeks. “We expected as much, but now-”

Debbie wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulders.
“Now we know, Mom. Now we can get on with our lives.”
She looked up at me. “I just can’t believe Frank Cooper
was behind it. And to think he shot himself to put the blame
on Dad” Tears welled in her eyes.

I grinned crookedly. “He almost got away with it”

She smiled at me gratefully. “He would have if it hadn’t
been for you, Tony.”

“Well,” I replied, glancing at my watch. “If I’m not mistaken, Frank Cooper is on the way down to the police station as we speak”

A faint smile ticked up her lips. She laid her hand on
mine. “Thank you, for everything”

I squeezed her hand. “You’re a wonderful woman, Debbie.
Just remember, anytime you or your mother need anything,
let me know”

She studied me for several moments, a sad smile on her
lips and regret in her eyes. I guess she knew then our time
had passed. Finally she nodded. “Thank you-” She paused,
and then added, “Friend”

I felt like a heel.

After leaving the Edwards, I picked up my old man and
his backpack, which I guessed Danny had bought him. I
gave him a hundred bucks and, at his request, dropped him
off on Sixth Street in front of the Limestone Pawn Shop.
“You’re welcome to stay. You know that, John Roney,” I
said before he closed the pickup door.

He slung the backpack over his shoulder. “I got itchy
feet, boy. Besides, I’m supposed to meet a man up in Fort
Worth. Business deal”

The rail yard was several blocks from Sixth Street. “I
can drive you over there”

“Nah. There’s a couple old boys here I want to tell goodbye” Without another word, he closed the door and stepped
back.

With a mixture of relief and disappointment, I stared at
him another few seconds, and then pulled away from the
curb into the traffic. I glanced in the rearview mirror. He was
still standing at the curb.

That night, I was sitting on the couch, nibbling on a
sausage pizza and sipping a glass of nonalcoholic cherry cider when the phone rang. It was Danny. “Hey, Tony, is
your old man still around?”

Naive me, I should have figured something was wrong,
but I didn’t. “Nope. He hopped a freight to Fort Worth.
Why? What’s up?”

“I’m missing a brass statue of Diana.”

I frowned. “Diana? Diana who?”

He sputtered, “Dummy! Diana-the Roman goddess of
the hunt. I had one in my office, and now she’s gone”

For a couple of moments, I sat like a wooden dummy
with a brain to match, and then I realized what had happened. “Would it fit in a backpack?”

“Yeah. Why?”

I shook my head. That’s why that conniving old man of
mine wanted me to drop him off at the pawnshop. That’s
why he didn’t want me to drive him to the rail yard. I closed
my eyes and drew a deep breath.

Danny spoke up. “Tony! You still there? Hey!”

“Yeah. I’m here. How much was that thing worth,
Danny?”

“Huh?”

“I think I know where it is. How much would a pawnbroker give for it?”

He hesitated, and then chuckled. “Fifty bucks, maybe”

“Tell you what. I’ll drop it off in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” He laughed.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

I called Chesed Kaber at Limestone Pawn Shop. I had
no idea what the name Kaber meant, but old Chesed had
told me more than once his given name meant mercy,
which from his dealing with his clients was the last thing I ever saw him display. I arranged to pick it up the next
morning.

That night, I slept the sleep of the innocent. The only
problem I now faced was begging Janice’s forgiveness for
missing the car show.

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