Loco Motive (33 page)

Judith nodded. “My cousin had to subdue him. She's Mrs. Jones. Despite appearances, she's not exactly comic relief.”

“Sidekick, then,” Renie said, arranging the folds of her peignoir. “Just like Chet Gundy and Wee Willie Weevil. Sometimes it's hard to tell which is which.”

“Weevil?” Deputy Maxwell grew redder. “You mean the suspect is related to the daredevil guy?”

“His son,” Judith said, stifling a yawn. “He's dangerous. Not only is he involved in the murder of an Amtrak attendant, but he may've caused the death of Chet Gundy. The real Willie Weevil died of an aneurysm five years ago. Oh—the Amtrak police should arrest a couple calling themselves Jack and Rosie Johnston. She glanced at Barney. “Have you seen a couple in Western gear?”

“No. The only arrivals were the Fullers, who live down the street from me.” Barney stared at the cash in his hand. “What do I do with this?”

“Oh—I almost forgot,” Judith said. “A couple of Ricky Weevil's accomplices were taken into custody in Wolf Point, first names, Maddie and Tiff. They were collecting this money for taking pictures at my B&B for Ricky.” She smiled apologetically.

“I wish you could keep some, but it is blood money.”

Barney dropped the money and the envelope. “Then I don't want it.”

Judith turned to Jason. “Take care of it. It's evidence. Now would you please flag down the train for us?”

The deputy awkwardly gathered up the bills and put them back in the envelope. “You have to give statements,” he said. “We had to wake the sheriff up. He wants to be filled in before he charges the guy in the Porsche.”

Judith shook her head. “We really can't. We have to get back on—”

“Coz,” Renie broke in, “don't be a spoilsport. Your husband's a cop, you know the drill. Besides,” she went, glancing at Jason, “the locals obviously checked with the Montana and the Amtrak police. They know your name, they know your reputation. Let's not damage it by being uncooperative.”

Judith pondered Renie's words. “Well…”

“Thanks,” Jason said. “We don't have room in the patrol car, so we'll send someone to pick you up. See you at headquarters.” He hurried out the door.

“I'm beat,” Renie said. “Come on, coz, let's step outside. The fresh air will perk us up. Maybe I can find my mules.”

Judith shrugged. “Okay.” She turned to Barney. “Thanks for helping us.”

The cousins stepped into the parking lot just as the patrol car drove away. Thinking as one, they walked toward the Porsche.

“Aha!” Renie exclaimed softly. “Here are my mules. Want me to drive?”

“What?”

“Stanley is the train's next stop in about forty-five minutes. We can get there in time to catch it in this baby.” She patted the car's roof. “You've got the keys. Shall I drive or will you?”

“I will,” Judith said. “You drive like your father.”

“Thank my father for showing me all the ropes—literally,” Renie said, getting into the passenger seat as Judith slipped behind the wheel. “As a seagoing man, he taught his little girl how to tie all kinds of knots. Ever see me do monkey knots? I showed them to Oscar once, but they made him nervous.”

Judith smiled as she heard the car's engine purr. “Oh, wouldn't Joe love to drive this baby?” She hit the accelerator and peeled out of the parking lot. “Watch for the signs to Stanley. I have to focus on the road.”

“What finally made you realize it was Ricky all along?” Renie asked as they flew along the quiet streets of Williston.

“Rowley,” Judith said. “When he and Irma boarded in White
fish early yesterday, he saw the Cowboy Hats. We never saw them come aboard because it was so late. Ricky must've picked up the sugar beets in Missoula. The Johnstons got off to finalize their plans with him. Ricky must've inherited his father's daredevil genes. He knew how to time his move across the tracks, making it safely to the other side while letting the load of sugar beets get hit hard enough to damage the train.”

“Where do you think he left the truck?”

“He'd have to lay low until he found out where the damaged engine would be replaced,” Judith said, “but once he found out, he could easily arrive at the motel in Scuttle to wait for the Johnstons.”

“So,” Renie said, “the naked guy the Downeys saw in the motel doorway was Ricky.”

Judith nodded. “Getting back to Rowley, I'll bet he saw the
Z
s at Whitefish. He was confused, but he may be that way, drunk or sober.”

“I'm confused. The
Z
s got on at midnight.”

“Right,” Judith agreed. “The same time the Johnstons did. Jack and Rosie didn't recognize the
Z
s. But Dick knew all about the Weevils—including Rosie, his half sister. The Whitefish stop was around six-thirty, the same time Justin's mother got the phone call from Dick about Willie having been dead for five years.”

“Why did Dick call Germaine?” Renie asked, blinking at the blur that was the countryside.

“He'd seen Maddie and Tiff's pictures of
not
-Willie,” Judith said. “He'd also seen my IOU from Justin and thought we were all in cahoots. He wanted to tell Germaine he knew the truth and that the jig was up as far as the impersonation was concerned.”

“Meanwhile Ricky's been hiding in plain sight as Jack Johnston.”

“Always the best place,” Judith said.

Renie leaned forward. “Sign ahead. Go right—merging 85 and 2.”

Judith made the turn onto a straight, empty stretch of highway. “Remember you said the Johnstons looked alike in their matching Western outfits? True, but also misleading. They probably look alike because Ricky and Rosie are brother and sister.”

Renie was surprised. “Really? She's got mega-teeth, but no gap.”

“Neither do you, but you did when you were a kid.” Judith laughed wryly. “Oddly enough, Arlene had the answer before any of this happened. She talked about the old TV cartoon,
Crusader Rabbit
, with his boon companion, Rags the Tiger. Crusader got all the glory, but Rags didn't mind. Just like Willie and Chet.”

“I liked that show. Rags was pretty brave, too.” Renie stared through the windshield.

“How fast are we going, coz? Will we break the sound barrier?”

“I refuse to look,” Judith said. “Ninety, a hundred. If we get arrested, the state patrol will take us to the train.”

“Or put us in jail,” Renie muttered. “We have no ID, no driver's licenses, and we're driving a stolen car. As we've mentioned earlier, what could possibly go wrong?”

“Everything else has on this trip,” Judith noted. “Maybe our luck's changing. I wish I knew who killed Roy.”

“I thought you did,” Renie said, surprised.

“It was Jack or Rosie. If the Kloppenburgs wouldn't let Jax in, why would they act differently with Roy? They were private people. Being refused, Roy would've moved on to the Cowboy Hats next door. He was friendly and liked to chat. He'd already seen the so-called Willie and I suspect he might've mentioned having doubts about his identity. That would've scared the conspirators. They had to keep him quiet. Rowley's description of the couple by the creek struck me as odd. He called their clothes ‘typical.' Mr. Peterson translated that as ‘casual,' but I think Rowley was talking like a local. The couple wore Western gear, as many Montanans do.”

“So when he saw them, they were already dumping poor Roy by the creek?”

“There or nearby. After the train started up again, Ricky may've moved the body. Rowley told the Amtrak cops he thought the man and woman were camping. Why? Because he thought they had a sleeping bag, not a body bag?”

Renie shuddered. “Ugh. But what about the bloodstained pillowcase?”

Judith shrugged. “Planted by the perps after the Kloppenburgs got off the train. I don't think Ricky and the others liked the Kloppenburgs much. Kloppy was responsible for the original hoax by substituting Chet Gundy for Willie Weevil. The thirty-mil policy paid off if Willie was killed during actual filming. Natural causes like an aneurysm didn't count.”

“Would the Kloppenburgs have gotten that money if Willie's death had been faked to look like something else?”

“If Willie keeled over in his trailer, it's likely that only the Gundys and Kloppy knew about it. The
K
s were going to the rodeo meeting in Wolf Point, but I think they got scared when the body count started. They were still making money from the impersonation. Maybe Mrs. Kloppy was stressed and Mr. Kloppy feared for both their lives. A heart attack was a good excuse to get off the train. Besides, if Joycelynne Gundy Kloppenburg is an invalid in a Chicago institution, the Gundys and the
K
s need money to pay for her care. Pepper's relationship with Kloppy was codependent. Who'd get the royalties that were still coming in? Not knowing if Chet died of natural causes, Kloppy had a reason to be frightened. Most of the burden of maintaining the charade fell on Pepper. I'd bet real money that she saw those videos of Willie's movies at our house and got rid of them in case anybody started making comparisons—including Wayne.”

“Makes sense,” Renie said. “But why was Laurie Chan so upset?”

“Who knows? Maybe when she found out Mrs. Kloppy was
Asian, it made her think of her birth mother. So much life and death has gone on in the past two days that anybody's emotions could go off-kilter, including Sharon Downey's. Let's face it, this hasn't been a pleasure trip for a lot of folks.”

“True.” Renie blinked. “I just got it. The wedding band belonged to Rob and Joycelynne. I'll bet you figured it out when Marsha talked about nicknames.”

“Oh…yes,” Judith said diffidently. “
RK
and
JG
and the 1990 date didn't fit anybody involved—until Marsha mentioned Lynne's full first name. She'd also told us that Rob and Lynne got married a few years after Randy was born. That fit, too.”

Renie nodded. “That last blur of a sign said Stanley, twenty miles.”

“We'll be there in ten minutes.” Judith glanced in the rear view mirror. “Uh-oh, we've got company.”

“Cops?”

“Let's find out.” Judith pushed down on the pedal. “Whee! I haven't driven like this since Joe and I were dating and he let me drive his MG.”

Renie had her hands pressed against the dashboard. “When do we go airborne? And did I mention I was afraid of flying?”

Judith glanced again at the mirror. “We're losing them. If we were still in Montana, they'd call this the Montanabahn.”

It took Renie a moment to regain her voice. “Why now?”

“Now? What do you mean?”

“After all this time, Ricky decides to act?”

“He got tired of waiting. The B&B accident set him off. Wayne told us about a PO box in Kalispell. I figure it's registered to Ricky. Wayne had to tell Ricky what happened to Chet. Then Ricky came up with his wacky plan to create enough confusion that someone could finish off the poor old coot and have photos to show that the death had stemmed from a stunt.”

“But how would Ricky know that Chet would jump off the roof?”

“Chet was a daredevil, too,” Judith replied. “He probably practiced doing crazy stuff all the time to stay in shape. Maddie and Tiff's photos could also be used to sue me, in case the insurance company wasn't fooled. Remember the label scrap stuck to your shoe? ‘Ox,' for oxycodone, or Percocet. Willie—I mean, Chet—kept saying ‘ring' before he died. I thought it meant the ring I had in my pocket. Later I realized that when my hip really hurts, I take a Percocet. Sometimes it causes ringing in my ears. If there's an autopsy, I'll bet it shows an overdose.”

“By whom?”

“Rosie,” Judith said. “Wasn't she with Willie, playing nurse?” Renie looked chagrined. “I forgot.”

“Ricky probably promised his half sisters a cut of the insurance money. For all we know, both of them were beneficiaries of policies we never saw. In fact, I wonder if Sister Number Two wasn't in Malta, putting together the subpoena I was handed. I quit. I'm leaving all the legal stuff to the lawyers,” Judith declared. “I'll bet the Weevil and the Gundy estates are a box of bees.”

“If so, the attorneys will end up with most of it,” Renie remarked. “But if Ricky was so desperate for money, how could he afford a car like this and pay Maddie and Tiff twenty grand?”

“Did you look at those hunskies?”

“No. The bills had bands around them and I only got a glimpse when Barney dropped the whole bunch.”

“Barney didn't look closely either,” Judith said, “but from what little I could see, Ben Franklin never had slicked-back dark hair.”

“They were fake? With pictures of Willie on them?”

“That's who I assumed it was. As for this car, there's only four hundred miles on it. Ricky must've bought it on his prospects.”

“If he bought it at all,” Renie said. “Hey, Stanley's coming…yikes!” She held on for dear life as Judith turned sharply at the exit.

“Now what?” Judith asked.

“Uh…follow this to Main Street.”

“How do you know that's right?”

“I don't. I'm channeling my dad again. He always followed his nose, and my nose tells me there's a Main Street. There always is in small towns.”

There was one in Stanley. “You lucked out. Next nose knowledge?”

“Try Railroad Avenue. They often have one of those.”

To the relief of both cousins, there was a Railroad Avenue and an Amtrak station on the edge of the small downtown area. Judith pulled up next to the building. “The lights are on. The train must not have arrived yet.”

“Trains in this country don't drive like you do,” Renie said, slipping into her mules.