Murder at the Art & Craft Fair (12 page)

Chapter
Twenty

“Mr. Atlas here. The finest chiseled body in three
counties.”

“Does that include the body down at the morgue?”

“I don’t know. Has Frank quit chiseling on him?”

“I don’t think that Frank uses a chisel any more,
since he got that money for new equipment. Maybe you might want to take an
autopsy or two and find out.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t. So, are you saying that Frank is
finished with Kincaid?”

“That’s affirmative. Are you ready to go to work,
Chiseler?”

“Does that mean I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then I guess I’m ready.”

“See you in a few. I’ll fill you in when I get there.”

“10 4, Red Ryder.”

+++

I pulled up in front of Lou’s apartment building and
saw him open his front door. He didn’t look like the Lou I knew. He was
glum-faced, walked slowly to the car, got in and sat down. He turned to me with
a strange look on his face.

“A nightmare.”

“Your hamster die?”

“I don’t have a hamster.”

“Your cat die?”

“Cy, you know I don’t have any pets?”

“Thelma Lou kick you out?”

“Cy, you know we don’t live together, and yes, we are
still getting along fine.”

“But you had a nightmare?”

“Not yet.”

“So, you’re going to have a nightmare?”

“Maybe.”

“Am I going to have a nightmare, too?”

“Possibly.”

“Is my next-door neighbor in it?”

“Cy, your next-door neighbor is in a lot of your
night-mares, but I don’t know about this one.”

“Anyone else have a nightmare, or going to have one?”

“I have no idea.”

“So, what is all this nightmare stuff?”

“It’s our clue for today.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“I just did.”

“Well, can we just skip today and go on to tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about if you go back inside and I go home and
we’ll pick up with the case tomorrow?”

“Then ‘nightmare’ might be tomorrow’s clue.”

“So, I guess we have to press on and realize that God
has warned us.”

“Something like that.”

I filled Lou in about what I’d learned, and then told
him we were headed to the motel.

“Cy, I insist on getting two rooms. I’m not sleeping
in the same bed with you. Do you know if they have room service?”

“You can find out when we get there, but it will be
harder to get it, considering we aren’t getting any room. We’re going to
Kincaid’s room, instead.”

“I’m not sleeping there unless the maid changed the
sheets. No telling what he might have picked up in the park on Friday or
Saturday.”

“Actually, we’re going to see if we can pick up
some-thing.”

“Cy, it’s not good to steal from a dead man.”

“I know. And I guess someone has already done that,
the person who made him dead. We have a man waiting for us there, so we can
look over the room and see if we find anything that might help us solve this
case.”

“You go ahead and check, I’ll wait outside.”

“Maybe I’ll send you to my next-door neighbor’s house
to see if she had anything to do with it.”

“Why? Were there claw marks on the body?”

“No, but it looks like someone’s saliva burned through
his neck.”

“Then, I’d say it has to be your next-door neighbor.”

“Unless her twin sister is in town.”

We continued our nonsense until we arrived at the
motel. We located Kincaid’s room and informed the officer on duty that he was
free to go. I looked around the small room, hoping to find some sort of clue as
to what might have gone on there. I found nothing out of the ordinary other
than the fact that the victim was found one place and his keys another. Neither
Lou nor I saw anything that didn’t belong there, or found anything missing. I
picked up the victim’s keys, headed out the door, looking for his truck and
trailer. All of the other vendors had headed home. There was only one truck and
trailer. I figured that one had to belong to Kincaid. I had the keys. The
vehicle had been dusted. I would soon find out if the truck and trailer in front
of me belonged to the victim. On the way out the door I saw the maid, asked her
if she was the one who had cleaned Kincaid’s room over the weekend. She said
she was. I asked her the condition of the room. She consulted a pad where she
had marked each room.

“Oh, I remember now. No one slept in that room last
night, yet someone’s luggage was still there. It’s probably still there. We
won’t do anything about it until after checkout time.”

We knew that Kincaid wouldn’t need his luggage any
longer, so it had already gone downtown. I continued my questioning.

“What about Saturday night? Did anyone stay there
Saturday night?”

“Oh, yeah. Somebody slept in the bed. And the shower
and towels had been used, too.”

“Did you see them?”

“The person or the shower and towels?”

“The person.”

“Oh, no. They were gone before I started cleaning. I
don’t start early, because a lot of guests sleep in on Sunday. But I’m there by
9:00 in case I can get started. No one came back while I was there in his room.
I didn’t see nobody. I didn’t notice nothing there when I went in or out of the
other rooms, either.”

“Could you tell how many people stayed in the room?”

“Only one. Only one pillow was used, the same with the
towel.”

“And I assume you’ve already taken those and washed
them.”

“Well, I didn’t wash them personally, but they’ve been
washed. We have extras, but we try to keep on top of things. We don’t want
unhappy guests.”

I thanked her and headed for Kincaid’s truck, puzzled
by what I’d heard. We took a couple of minutes looking through the truck and
trailer. It didn’t take long. It usually doesn’t when there’s nothing to see.

I motioned for Lou to walk back to Kincaid’s room with
me. We walked in and shut the door. This time Lou got the drop on me.

“Well, what do you think, Cy?”

It always aggravates me when he asks me before I ask
him. I already knew what was in my brain, or not in mine, but I didn’t know if
anything was sloshing around in his.

“Well, Lou, we already knew that someone drove his
truck here, but the fact that someone slept here, even took a shower here,
throws me for a loop. I could probably narrow the field if I knew why this
someone stayed here. If the sheriff down in Murray hadn’t told me that he saw
Kincaid’s wife in Murray on Saturday, I might think she could’ve been the one.
But a person can’t be in two places at once. Was it someone local doing this so
we would place the blame on one of the vendors? Or did someone sleep here so
we’d think he wasn’t murdered until sometime Sunday? If so, did they do this
because they were at the fair on Saturday, but not on Sunday? Again, the only
ones I can think of that fit that bill are local.”

“Could it be as simple as the murderer not having
anywhere to stay and wanting to save money on a motel room?”

“I doubt it, but if so, that would make me think it
was a vendor. I would think that most vendors would have had motels booked well
ahead of time.”

With that thought in mind, I consulted my notes,
picked up the motel phone and dialed Maureen Eidorn’s number. From the sound of
her voice, it sounded like I woke her.

“Mrs. Eidorn, this is Lt. Dekker. Sorry to bother you,
but I have a couple of questions for you. Do you know of any vendors who
traveled here from a distance who didn’t have a place to stay when they
arrived?”

“We’ve had that happen, but I don’t think there were
any this year. If so, they didn’t ask me if I knew of a place. Most of them
have been coming here for years and stay at the same place each year, and book
their rooms well ahead of time.”

“One other thing. You said Vernon Pitts lives out in
the country. Do you have any idea if I can find him at home during the day?”

“I doubt it. While he lives in the country, he’s not
really a farmer. He works, and I’m not sure where, but you’d be better off
trying to find him at night. But if I were you, I’d go before dark. I’ve heard
his place is hard to find after dark.”

“What about Earl Clements and Wayne Edmonds?”

“Clements does odd jobs, so he’s home part of the
time. Wayne Edmonds took early retirement, so he might be home.”

I thanked her and apologized for waking her. She told
me I didn’t wake her, but I think I did.

+++

“So, what’s next, Cy?”

“We’ll walk up to the front desk, tell them that we’re
releasing the room, and that we’ll let his wife know she can come and pick up
his truck and trailer. Then, we’ll head to the jail and question Johnny
Delmont. I’ve heard he’s there, but I’m not sure if he’s cooling his heels, or
not.”

Lou laughed, told me he’d back me up. He didn’t say
how far behind me he’d be.

My plans were to question Delmont, decide if we had
any reason to hold him, then pick up something and take it to my place to eat.
While we were there I planned to call the sheriff in Murray again, and see if I
could get ahold of Delbert Cross, the vendor who was anxious to leave. I
wondered if there really was a death in the family, or if Cross knew a little
more than he should about another death.

Chapter
Twenty-One

Lou and I arrived at the jail. When they brought
Delmont in so I could question him, I wasn’t sure if a night in jail had cooled
him off or not.

“Why are you treating me like a criminal?”

“Because you are one.”

“What did I do?”

“You left when you were told not to leave until we
questioned you.”

“I waited a few minutes.”

“But not until we questioned you. If you had stayed,
you could have been home by now.”

He slumped his shoulders, asked us what we wanted to
know.

“What can you tell me about Tom Kincaid?”

“He’s a thief, and if he’s trying to say I did
anything to his stuff, he’s a liar.”

“What did he steal?”

“My idea. Them puzzles was my idea.”

“Did he steal puzzles you made?”

“Ain’t made no puzzles. He beat me to it after I told
him I was going to make some.”

“How long after you told him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was it as much as a year or two after you said something
about making some?”

“You’ve been talking to some of them women who’s in
love with him, ain’t you?”

“Which women are those?”

“That Arrington woman and what’s her name, uh, that
Weddington woman. Both of them would love to get their claws in Tom Kincaid. I
don’t know why though.”

“Where did you stay Saturday night?”

“In my camper. Where else would I stay?”

“Spend any time at the Resting Place Motel?”

“Nope.”

“When’s the last time you saw Kincaid?”

“To talk to?”

“At all.”

“I don’t know. A week or two ago.”

“You didn’t see him this past weekend?”

“I might have. Didn’t go near him, though.”

“Who do you know who might have something against
him?”

“Me.”

“Anyone else?”

“Anybody who’s got sense.”

“Know of anyone this weekend who’s had some trouble
with Kincaid?”

“Why? Did somebody else come to his senses?”

“Just answer my question.”

“Nobody I know of. Why all these questions about that
scoundrel, anyway?”

“Because someone murdered him at the Hilldale Art
& Craft Fair.”

He looked at me like I was crazy, then burst out
laughing.

“Well, it weren’t me, but I’m going to party now.”

“In jail?”

“You ain’t got no reason to hold me. I didn’t kill
him. So, it happened at that motel, did it?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, you asked me if I been there. Maybe he was
two-timing one of them women. One of them caught him with another one, when she
thought she was the only one. Or maybe one of thems got a husband and he done
it. Maybe my puzzle idea wasn’t the only thing he stole.”

“Any idea who it might have been?”

“Nope, but it wasn’t me, and you got no right to hold
me.”

He was right. I had no more on him than I did anyone
else, so I guessed it wasn’t fair to hold him when I wasn’t holding anyone
else. I got up and Lou followed suit. I turned to leave.

“Hey, when you letting me go?”

“In due time, Mr. Delmont. In due time.”

I walked out and the guard returned Delmont to his
cell. I talked to the man at the desk, asked him to let Delmont cool his heels
for another hour, then release him. If Delmont was good about it, I told them
to have someone take him back to his truck.

+++

“What do you think, Lou?”

“I think he’s ornery, but I’m not sure if he’s our
murderer. To tell you the truth, I don’t see much difference in one of these
guys and another. We might have trouble figuring out which one did it.”

“Yeah, but it could be someone who doesn’t seem much
like a murderer.”

“I hope not. It’s always easier when it’s one of those
ornery cusses.”

+++

Lou and I left the jail, stopped by Antonio’s and
picked up a couple of sandwiches to take to my place and eat. I had stuff at
the house to fix, but I was already too tired to do so. A little before 12:00
we arrived at my house to eat and make some phone calls.

+++

“Sheriff Offutt.”

“Sheriff, this is Lt. Dekker again. Did you have time
yet to call on the bereaving widow?”

“I called on her. I’m not sure about how bereaved she
is.”

“So, what did she have to say?”

“When I told her she asked me if it was his heart.
Before I could answer, she said, ‘No, that couldn’t be it. He didn’t have one.’
Then she apologized. Said she guessed she was sorry he was dead, supposed she’d
have to make funeral arrangements, asked me how he died, told me she didn’t
want any of his puzzles, because he thought more of them than he did her.”

“What did you tell her when she asked you how he
died?”

“I told her I didn’t know, told her that I received a
phone call from someone in Hilldale telling me that he had died.”

“So, she doesn’t know he was murdered?”

“Not unless someone else told her.”

I gave him a number to call, where she could claim the
body, thanked him for being of service, and he told me that was part of his
job. I hung up and located my sheet and looked for Delbert Cross’s number. I
dialed it, let it ring, no answer. Maybe he really did leave early to attend a
funeral. Or maybe he was at work. Or maybe he was a fugitive from justice. I
would try him again after I questioned some other people.

+++

“Well, Lou, we’ve got three locals to talk to. You up
to questioning three more suspects today?”

“If I say no, does that mean that you’ll go without
me?”

“Well, now that you mention it, it would be more fun
if I took Heather Ambrose with me, especially that guy tonight who lives out in
the country.”

“You forgetting that Jennifer’s still in town?”

“I guess I was. Come on, Lou, get your hat and let’s
go.”

“I don’t wear a hat, Cy.”

“Maybe you should. It would cover up some of that ugly
face.”

“I think you’re just jealous because of my finely
chiseled body.”

“Come to think of it, it does look like someone’s
taken a chisel to it. Your face, too.”

+++

Just as Lou and I walked out the door something hit me
in the face. It was a leaf. The first falling leaf of fall. I wondered where
the year had gone. Weather is unpredictable in early October in Kentucky, but then
weather is unpredictable in Kentucky anytime. Daytime temperatures had been
hovering in the low 70s, and the sun has been shining bright on my old Kentucky
home, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before it started to get chilly and the
winds would begin to howl. I hoped that Lou and I would solve the case before
that happened, and I could hibernate with my books all winter long.

Before Lou and I could make it to Lightning a second
leaf fell. Maybe they would all be gone by the time I got back home. Then again,
maybe not.