Murder by Artifact (Five Star Mystery Series) (9 page)

“I gave him the paper.”

“Good.” The priest looked at Tony and offered his hand. “I'm Father Neal. I'm a hospice volunteer. I have to say I do not approve of Harrison's method of getting you here. I told him he had to be creating a lot of work for you and your fellow officers.”

Just then, an officer with a German shepherd strolled up to the table. The dog, trained to find explosives, sniffed under the table and each person in turn. He settled on his haunches, staring at Tony.

“Thanks guys,” said Tony, glancing around at the police backup. “It looks like you got all dressed up for nothing.”

“See?” Father Neal gently poked Harrison in the arm. “You have caused a lot of people extra work with your little fanfare. The game will be starting soon. If you want to see any of it, get on with your confession.” He offered Tony a plate of nachos.

Chastised, Harrison began his tale. “I hated everybody and everything that spring except for the Ms and V. That is marijuana, moonshine and Vicky. I don't remember her last name. I might not have ever known it.” He pulled a plastic cup of beer close to the edge of the table. His hands trembled too badly for him to lift the cup to his lips so he leaned forward and sucked the foam off the top. “Vicky was wild. I think she was two grades behind us. It might only have been one. She was fat and had black hair and this thumb that looked like it had been smashed in a car door, you know?” He raised his left thumb into the air.

Tony instantly knew whom he meant. The description, not the name, rang a bell. Like Harrison, Vicky arrived when he was in high school. Somewhat overweight, the girl had a pretty face and long black hair. She circled her bright blue eyes with too much makeup and dressed in tight Tshirts with low-cut necklines that exposed more of her ample breasts than they covered. Tony suspected most of the guys, like him, rarely pulled their eyes from her chest to her face. She made it clear forming friendships with either gender was not in her plan. About a month after she arrived, she left again. No one missed her, or, more accurately, no one was sorry when she left. Something of his feelings must have shown on his face.

“I can see you remember her. Vicky was really something, wasn't she? Anyway, I liked weed and booze. A couple of girls liked me. They said I was good-looking and had nice hair.” He touched his bare scalp and grinned at Tony's baldness. “I guess we've both changed, huh? Well, anyway, this Vicky, she followed me around like a dog and would watch me with these other girls. I started putting on a show for her, sort of tying them up and showing off, you know.”

Tony thought he could guess. “Did Vicky know it was a show?” He reached for a nacho.

“I really don't know.”

Tony wondered if Harrison had escalated his game until someone died. That theory didn't quite fit. The bones Theo found belonged to a male. “What happened next?”

“Vicky decided we should go up into the national park and pick up a stranger. That was okay by me.” A glimmer of a smile creased his ravaged face. “There weren't many girls in town who were willing, if you know what I mean.”

“So what did you do?”

“We cruised around. Vicky drove and I sat there and smoked weed. We picked up a girl with a backpack. She was hitchhiking in Cades Cove.” He slurped more beer. “Vicky said she could have a ride only if she'd be
real
nice to me, if you catch my drift.”

Tony held up a hand to stop him and glanced through the document. The whole thing was spelled out. No recording would be more complete. “I haven't read you your rights.”

“That's okay. I know them.” Harrison coughed into a handkerchief. “I'll be dead soon anyway.”

His words were spoken so matter-of-factly Tony paused for a moment. “So, you were a total stranger and this girl didn't mind?”

“Naw, it didn't mean nothin’ to her. We pulled into a picnic area and Vicky stayed in the car. Watching. Next thing I know, Vicky's covering the girl's head in plastic bags. She had it wrapped tight in seconds.” His prominent Adam's apple moved up and down in his throat. “It was awful scary. I tried to get her to stop. All the sudden she turned on me, pulling an old revolver. I figured she'd kill me, too.”

Even though he'd probably heard the story before, Father Neal's cheeks lost their rosy glow.

“Go on.” Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know what else happened that day.

“After I helped her put the girl in the trunk, Vicky handed me a fresh jar of shine and we took off again. I passed out. When I woke up, the car was stopped. I sat in the car and watched as she killed three more people. Two men and another woman.” He drank half of the beer. “Afterwards, she made me help her load them into the trunk, and I kept drinking and smoking and hoping I was just having a really bad dream.”

“What about the bodies?” Tony's heartburn forced him to stop eating. He reached into his pocket for a handful of antacids. “What did she do with those?”

“There was an old freezer in a shed at the back of her family farm.” He made the sign of the cross. “God forgive me. I helped her wrap them in plastic bags, like so much garbage, and stick them in there. After that, I walked home and never saw Vicky again.” He toyed with a soft pretzel, pulling it apart. He didn't raise any of it to his lips.

Tony forced his hands to remain still. “What makes you think we found one of those bodies?”

“The McMahons lived right next to Vicky's family. She talked about their daughter, Nina, a lot. What Vicky felt for Nina was worse than hatred. It was a real sicko obsession.” A youthful smile crossed his face. “Nina was pretty and sweet and had gorgeous copper-red hair. I liked Nina even though she couldn't stand me.”

Tony thought back. “The Parkers and the Teffetellers lived closest to the McMahons.”

“Vicky Parker. That was her name.” Harrison slurped some more beer. “Such an ordinary name for a murdering bitch. I wonder how I could have forgotten it.”

“Do you happen to subscribe to the
Silersville Gazette
?”

“Yep. I signed up a few months ago.” His sunken eyes twinkled in his gaunt face.

Tony guessed he knew the answer to his next question but asked it anyway. “Do you happen to have any idea how the body got out of the freezer and into the park behind Nina's yard?”

“Yep. I put it there.” The twinkle vanished. “I hoped it would lead you to the others in the shed.” He coughed again. “I swear, I didn't want to leave it near Nina's house but it about killed me to move it that far. I dragged it on an old tarp and that was as far as I could manage even though it wasn't more than bones. I couldn't drive up there.” He raised a hand like he was swearing an oath. “If you'd arrested Nina, I would have called and confessed right away.”

The truth glowed in Harrison's eyes. This man was ill and tired and praying for peace. Tony hoped the letter would be enough to get a search warrant for the shed. He doubted any court would convict Vicky Parker without additional evidence. Without it, assuming they could find her, she and her uncle could claim that if Harrison knew where the bodies were, it was because he had stashed them there himself.

The national anthem began. Everyone rose. Tony watched the priest support Harrison's emaciated body. When the song ended, the priest retrieved a wheelchair from where he'd left it against the wall.

“Can we go watch the game now?” asked Father Neal.

Tony nodded. The adrenaline left his system, leaving behind an odd exhaustion. Even as he watched the dying man smile, peace glowing in his eyes, Tony dialed Theo's phone. She answered on the first ring.

“Tony?”

He could hear the concern in her voice and that warmed him. “Everything's fine. It's quite a story, and not a pretty one. It will keep until I get home.”

“You know I love a good story.”

He wasn't sure if the sigh of relief came from her or from him.

“What will you do now?”

“I'll go over and take care of the cop stuff. Then, if I'm done quickly, I might come back and eat some chili and spaghetti and watch the end of the game. Hopefully I'll get some sleep and be home around noon.”

“Good.”

“Speaking of games, how is Jamie's game going? Did Gus get the team organized?” Having both the head coach and the assistant gone was unfair to the kids even though it was unavoidable. They just wanted to play.

“They're behind, six to one at the end of two innings, with one on second base.” Her next words were drowned out by the sound of screaming. Theo's scream of excitement, not fear, added to the cacophony. Laughing and breathless, she returned to the call. “Make that six to three. Kimberly just hit a home run.”

“Kimberly did?” Tony tried to visualize the scene and failed. The little girl weighed half as much as the next smallest player and could barely lift the bat off her shoulder to let it fall to the ground. No way would she be able to swing it.

Theo's laugh rang in his head. “Okay, so maybe the bat slipped off her shoulder and accidentally bumped the ball and it landed fair. We'll say Kimberly bunted, and after a series of errors, she crossed the plate. Hey! It still counts.”

Jarred from sleep by the insistent ringing of his cell phone, Tony felt disoriented and exhausted. His pillow smelled like stale cigar smoke and beer instead of Theo. Cincinnati. “Mmph.” The glowing red letters on the hotel clock read four thirty-eight as he flipped open the tiny phone. “Sheriff.” He held his breath hoping it was a wrong number.

“Sheriff?” Deputy J. B. Lewis’s distinctive voice rumbled through the line. “I hate to wake you.”

Tony jerked to an upright position. His gut twisted.

“Your family’s fine, sir.”

Hearing the problem had nothing to do with his family, Tony’s tension eased. “What’s wrong, J.B.?”

“I was driving my regular route and stopped at the new museum, you know, just to, you know.”

“And?” Tony could hear the normally unflappable man breathing hard, making odd little rasping sounds. He squeezed the telephone hoping that would force J.B. to talk a little faster.

“The trailer your mom and aunt have turned into an office and storage area was broken in to, sir.” J.B. released a deep breath into the phone. “The door was wide open when I came by so I went inside. The mayor’s wife is in there. She’s dead, sir. Murdered.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” J.B. cleared his throat, several times. “There’s this thing with a jillion spikes coming off it jammed into her throat. I don’t know what it is but she sure didn’t just fall on it.”

“I know what it looks like.” Tony remembered the vicious-looking tool he’d studied in the office/trailer. “Is she the only victim?”

“Yes, sir. Whoever did it tried to cover her up with an old quilt.” He made an odd croaking sound. “There’s dried blood all over it. I had to move it, sir.”

“It can’t be helped.” Tony shrugged. “Are you alone out there?”

“Yes, sir, unless you count the deceased.”

Tony smiled at the attempt at humor. J.B. would be okay. “Wake up Wade, Mike and Sheila. Have them take pictures and start collecting evidence. They know the drill.” He turned the switch on the bedside lamp, flinching at the sudden brilliance. As they talked, Tony gathered his personal items. Maybe he could spare five minutes for a shower. “While you’re calling them, I’ll contact Doc Nash. Since he’s our county’s coroner he’ll have to come out and declare her dead. I’ll find someone else to do the autopsy.”

“Why is that, sir?”

“Doc has so much personal animosity against Doreen, I don’t want him doing more with the body than he has to. I’ll probably arrange to send her to Knoxville.”

“What about the mayor? Should I tell him?”

“Damn.” Tony rolled his shoulders, releasing some of the stiffness, while he considered the situation. The man had to be told. Telling the family was the worst part of this job. “After the others get there, I want you to drive over to the house and tell him in person she died. Don’t volunteer any information. Don’t answer any questions. Don’t let him near the body. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Tony made good time until he was just south of Richmond, Kentucky. Suddenly, the farther he drove, the harder it rained. Visibility on the highway reduced to about zero. The weak morning light mixed with gray rain and dark trees, producing a murky condition where everything from the sky to the pavement was the color of mildew.

He couldn’t stop because someone behind him might plow into him. Creeping along, he eventually saw a sign for the turnoff to the rest stop and followed it. Cars and trucks all but filled the parking lot. The rain pounded harder on the roof of the Blazer, imprisoning him.

It seemed like a good time to call Theo. If he let someone else tell her about Doreen’s death, she would never forgive him. She just didn’t deal well with being blindsided by one of her customers. She answered on the second ring.

“I’m on my way back.”

“Not sleeping in?” Her voice was warm, amused. “I thought you’d be out swapping cop stories all night.”

“I was.”

“What happened?” The tone of Theo’s voice changed from warm to concerned. “Your contact go bad after all?”