Murder by Serpents (Five Star First Edition Mystery) (29 page)

Tony nodded and immediately thought of both Quentin's truck and the one that he saw parked at the motel office/church on Thursday night. “Did it have lights on the roof?”

Karissa shook her head, sending her ponytail bouncing. “I really don't remember. I just tried not to barf and wanted to get home again. I barely even noticed the truck at all. I just remember seeing the flames. It was moving fast.”

Pops Ogle looked like he had aged forty years in the past few days. His posture had changed from upright to pulled in. When he greeted Tony, his eyes lacked their usual sparkle. “Sheriff?” Pops stood next to his desk in the county clerk's office. “Have you found out what happened?”

Tony shook his head. The changes in Pops alarmed him. “Are you all right?”

“I'll be fine. This whole business has taken a toll though.” Pops slid onto his chair and rested his hands on his desk. The fingers that usually seemed to play music of their own accord lay still. Pops sighed. “Since you came out to see us, I have heard some horrible stories about Mr. Mize, er, Brown. Do you think they could be true?”

“I'm afraid he was not the man he pretended to be. My guess is that he fooled lots of people.” Tony didn't know how much of the truth about Hub had made its way to Pops ears.

“Is it true he was married to that sweet little Miss Ruby?” Pops was concerned and disillusioned. His head clearly vied with his heart. Even as he asked, his head moved from side to side as if he couldn't bear to hear the answer.

“Yes.” Tony slipped an antacid tablet into his mouth. “I don't suppose he ever mentioned having a child or where his next of kin might live?”

Pops slowly shook his head. “That nursing home story was a lie, I know that now.” He paused. “Doesn't Quentin know?”

“I really came here about another matter,” said Tony. He didn't feel like explaining that Quentin barely knew the man. “Can you tell me who drives the little pickup I saw at the Thursday meeting? The one painted with flames and sporting the rack of roof lights.”

“Sure can.” Pops smiled for the first time. “That's me.”

“You? I thought you were a Saturn kind of guy.”

“I am.” The twinkle came back into Pops's eyes. “And strictly a brown one at that.” He watched Tony and grinned when he saw the answering glint in Tony's eyes.

“And the truck?”

“That belongs to my sister's youngest boy, Matthew. She took it away from him until he gets his grades up and I just drive it from time to time to keep it running.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice like he had something embarrassing to confess. “It's a lot of fun to drive.”

“I'll just bet it is.” Tony leaned back in his chair. “Were you driving it on Wednesday night?”

Pops stopped smiling and closed his eyes. He seemed to be the picture of concentration. “Can't say that I remember for sure. Why do you ask?”

Theo was thinking about Jane and Martha even as she prepared dinner. She still couldn't quite believe that the pair of them planned to leave Silersville for the summer and try to start a singing career. Martha was a late baby and she was fifty now. Jane's carefully guarded age had to put her in low to mid seventies. She couldn't wait much longer.

The pair had guts. Theo had to give them credit for that, and she hoped it would be a positive experience, but at the same time she couldn't help but wonder how long it would take before Gretchen knew her stuff. Jane would train her replacement, but still, it would take time for all of them to adjust.

Chris and Jamie sat across from each other at the kitchen table working on their homework. Jamie had a map to color and Chris worked on a book report. He tried to keep his paper neat but since he was left-handed, his papers usually had pencil smudges all over them.

Daisy emerged from under the table. Tail wagging, she trotted toward the front of the house signaling Tony's return. After one woof, she went quiet except for the sound of her toenails clicking on the hardwood floor of the front hall. If a stranger approached the house, Daisy would bark a deep, warning bark.

After the front door opened and closed, Theo expected to hear the closet door open. Tony preferred to leave his pistol in the gun safe before even greeting the boys. The distinctive scraping, squeaking sound of that door opening didn't come. Curious and still clutching the dishtowel, Theo left the kitchen. She found Tony slumped against the front door, his back pressed to the wood, his eyes closed. “Tony?”

“I'm fine.” He lifted one eyelid. “Or at least I will be after a few minutes of peace.”

Without another word, Theo stepped closer to him and pressed a kiss on his cheek before returning to the kitchen. If he hadn't already heard about his mother's plans for the summer, she sure wasn't going to mention them until he was feeling stronger.

A short time later, she heard the opening and closing of the hall closet door, and then Tony joined them in the kitchen.

After dinner, Tony pitched a game of home run derby in the park. Chris and Jamie pounded the whiffle ball with an oversized plastic baseball bat, sending it soaring through the trees. Daisy raced after the ball, bringing it back, soggy but intact. Later, Tony settled into his favorite chair. Theo and the boys joined him for story time. Not until the boys were asleep did he bring up the subject of his day.

He didn't even flinch when she told him the latest plan hatched by his mother and aunt.

Rested after an uninterrupted night's sleep, Tony spotted Doc Nash's flame red Corvette parked in front of the tiny morgue. It drew him like a beacon. Inside, he saw that the doctor was almost done with Possum's autopsy and wondered if Doc ever had a decent night's sleep.

“Okay, Doc,” said Tony as he perched one hip on a stainless steel table. “What happened to Possum?”

Doc's eyes narrowed as he gazed out the window. With obvious reluctance, he turned back to face Tony. His eyes flickered to the gold badge and away. “Nothing that he didn't deserve.”

“Agreed.” When the doctor didn't continue, Tony cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Now then, what are your official findings?”

“The cause of death was massive blood loss from a knife wound that nicked the left carotid artery. It was not cut all the way through.” He fidgeted with the edges of his papers. “I saw no signs of a struggle. No defense wounds.”

“What about his knuckles?”

“Those scrapes were at least a week old. His own knife caused the wound in his neck and it was found in his vicinity. It fit exactly.” He focused on Tony's eyes, his own bloodshot and bleary. “Unless you have some other evidence, I'm calling it an accident. While running downhill, he tripped and stabbed himself.”

Tony stared at the doctor. “There were no clear prints on the knife, and the position of the body is consistent with that scenario, but . . .” Tony's words trailed away to silence. “Someone killed him and I can't prove it.”

Doc's lifted eyebrows were the only reply.

“Two things don't add up.”Tony sucked on an antacid tablet while he watched Doc processing his statement. “The first is that I can't imagine Possum actually running. That would require more effort and energy than I have ever seen in the man.”

“And the other?”

“I don't think it was muddy enough.”

“What wasn't muddy enough?”

“The body.” Tony pulled a photograph from the doctor's file and tapped his finger on the image of the back of Possum's shirt. “Assuming he
was
running and fell, slipping in the muck, shouldn't he have rolled over onto his back at least once or had a snoot full of mud?”

“I did wonder about that, but he didn't die right away so he could have walked there in a more or less orderly manner.” He lifted his eyes from the photograph. “If I call this a homicide, what will happen?”

“It will create lots of paperwork and leave the file open. I sure don't have any evidence to make an arrest. Just because I think someone ought to have killed him, doesn't make it so.” His words trailed into silence.

“What do
you
think happened?”

“I think Sally is pregnant.” Tony rolled his shoulders. “I think she wants this baby enough to fight back, to take his knife from him and stab him to protect it. If that's what happened, I doubt that Archie would charge her with anything.”

“Unless you have some strong feelings to the contrary, I'll call it an accident.” Doc cleared his throat. “If you want to talk to Sally, she told me she's going to stay with Ruby until her baby is born.”

Tony disconnected the phone and went looking for Wade. For a change, the eager-beaver deputy wasn't hovering around his desk.

Ruth Ann sat at hers, talking on the phone. Using a tiny tool, she decorated her freshly painted, baby-blue fingernails with microscopic decals of leaves and daisies. Her voice carried clearly to his ears, so he knew that she wanted him to hear her side of the conversation.

“Marigold, I think you've been into the hooch in the mayor's office. You're telling me the mayor is suggesting that the sheriff ought to be impeached?” Her eyebrows lifted as she watched Tony approach. “For what reason? Proving that the mayor is an idiot and a lazy one at that?”

Tony couldn't hear Marigold's response, but Ruth Ann's grin let him know it was something not quite complimentary about the mayor. The fact that the mayor continued to be reelected each year assured Tony that his own impeachment was unlikely. A town whose citizens thrived on doing everything the same way things were always done was not likely to get out and vote to impeach the sheriff.

Frankly, he thought, he'd be surprised if he could lose an election. People were known to vote for the dead in some elections. When former sheriff Harvey Winston retired, he talked Tony into running as his replacement. Tony wondered who he'd con into taking the job.

Wade sauntered down the hall, carrying a large bottle of Sprite.

“Ready for a little adventure?” Tony asked. The young man's expression was not encouraging. In fact, Tony thought Wade looked closer to being frightened away than being intrigued.

“Dull would be nicer.” Wade swallowed half of the contents of his bottle. “I have had enough adventure lately to last me for the rest of the year. Between the bodies and the autopsies, I'm ready for something duller. I've lost five pounds the hard way.” He burped, a long rolling belch that seemed to echo in that small space, and grinned. The gleam in his eyes as he smiled showed a clear appreciation of his accomplishment. “Maybe I could handle a week of being the school crossing guard, followed up by a lot of paperwork.”

There was more sympathy in Tony's heart than he hoped showed on his face. He shook his car keys. “I think it's dry enough now that we can put the Blazer into four-wheel drive and make it up Quentin's driveway. You might remember that we still have a search warrant to execute. I think we might as well take care of that before he gets released, don't you?”

Wade grumbled like an old bear, but his eyes were starting to sparkle.

As they drove past Nellie Pearl's house, Wade turned to Tony. “How's the old lady doing? Is she making any progress?”

“I heard earlier today that she is stabilized but still unconscious.” Tony's hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I'm afraid if she doesn't come out of it pretty soon, she won't.”

“Is that what the doctors say or just your opinion?”

“My opinion,” Tony replied. “It's based on what the doctors are not saying. They don't want to climb out on that limb, but I've seen and heard a fair number of discouraging forecasts and I'd have to say theirs is pretty severe.”

After a last lingering gaze at Nellie Pearl's house,Wade turned and concentrated his attention on the road ahead. “You think we'll make it up there?”

Tony wasn't sure. Ahead of them, the long driveway to Quentin's house was scored with newly eroded areas. The mud and trash, carried from the hills above the road, had accumulated in long tangles caught by the trees. “That stuff looks fairly dry to me. If we stay away from the puddles, we ought to be able to make it up.” He put the vehicle into four-wheel drive. “If this doesn't work, we'll ride up on mules.”

Wade flinched. “It's easy to see that no one has been on this section of road since the rain. A butterfly would leave tracks in this stuff.” Wade slipped his sunglasses down on his nose and grinned. “Do you suppose the lovely Angelina has been baking cookies for our visit?You know, for a married man, you certainly have your share of admiring women. Blossom and now Angelina.”

Tony hands jerked on the steering wheel and his stomach lurched. He had forgotten about Quentin's repulsive girlfriend. “You don't think she's still up there, do you? I assumed she left the area.” Knowing that he sounded childish didn't bother him half as much as the prospect of spending a moment in her company, even with a burly chaperone.

“You mean you
hope
that she's gone.” Wade's shout of laughter boomed inside the Blazer. “She did rather take to you. Aren't you concerned that Theo will hear about your new friend and get jealous?”

Another shudder ran through Tony. “I do believe she is the sluttiest woman I've ever met, and that's saying something.”

“Considering that you worked vice in Chicago for a while, I expect you do have some fine examples to compare her to.” Wade frowned. “I never thought I would say this, but Quentin's way too good for that woman.”

“At least Quentin's got a few good qualities.”

As they came around the last curve before reaching Quentin's house, they almost skidded into the passenger door of the flame-painted pickup. It rested at an angle blocking the drive. Muck and mud were spattered up to the roof and half-covered the windshield. Its tires were embedded in mud and garbage up to the axle. Under the crumpled hood, a small tree sprouted between the engine and the radiator.

“Oh, man, that's not going anywhere for a while.” Wade's voice was almost a whisper. “Quentin's not going to like what she did to his baby.”