Murder Passes the Buck (32 page)

“
The judge said you did.
”

“
I
’
m representing myself.
”

“
You
’
re not taking any advice,
”
Cora Mae whined,
“
and I
’
m not visiting you in some nursing home in Escanaba. You need to spruce up your appearance, tone down your personality, and get a lawyer. It
’
s only for a little while, and then you can go back to your old self.
”

“
And you,
”
she turned to Kitty, whose black flip was bobbing in time with her chews.
“
You need to spruce up, too, so you can find a man.
”

Kitty stopped chewing.
“
I can get a man anytime I want to. In fact, I fight them off daily.
”

Cora Mae and I looked doubtful.

“
It
’
s true. Haven
’
t you ever heard of chubby chasers?
”

Cora Mae hooted and we shushed her.

“
Lots of men out there like a fat woman,
”
Kitty said.
“
If you don
’
t believe me, ask one of them.
”
She licked her fingers.
“
I just don
’
t want one.
”

Cora Mae
’
s final words of advice were,
“
If you don
’
t use it, you
’
re going to lose it. It
’
s like pierced ear holes. They close right up if you don
’
t keep putting posts in.
”

“
Shhh.
”
I saw two black dots walking down Delta from the opposite direction,

heading toward George
’
s truck. I scrambled for the binoculars and put them up to my eyes. Nothing.

Apparently binoculars don
’
t work well in the dark. Kitty tried to see through them, then Cora Mae tried. The black dots came close enough so I could make out the shadows of arms and legs, but we were parked too far away to get a good look. The falling snow and fogged windows didn
’
t help either.

Kitty started the car and rolled forward. But it was too late. A figure came into shadowy view and hopped into the truck. Whoever he was with had vanished.

I put night-vision binoculars on my wish list.

_Thirteen

Word for the Day

HIRSUTE (HURR soot) adj. Hairy; shaggy; bristly.

Bright and early Saturday morning Blaze called Cora Mae
’
s house looking for me.
“
He says he knows you
’
re here,
”
Cora Mae called out, covering the receiver with her hand.
“
If you don
’
t talk to him, he says he
’
s coming over.
”

“
All right,
”
I said, reluctantly taking the phone.

“
I had George and Carl keep an eye on Cora Mae
’
s house through the night,
”
Blaze said.
“
I deputized them. I
’
m worried sick since someone took shots at you out by the blind.
”

Great. Blaze has one of the prime suspects following me around with a badge and a weapon.

“
I
’
ve got a deputy coming over to watch

out for you until we clear this up. Where are you going to be today?
”

“
I don
’
t need some pimply-faced kid chasing after me. I have Kitty.
”

“
You don
’
t have a choice. Where can he count on finding you? He
’
ll be out in the next hour.
”

“
I
’
m helping out at Kitty
’
s rummage sale,
”
I said, resigned to the fact that people would be surrounding me until this murder was solved.

“
Oh, and one more thing. I checked the Motor Vehicle Department and I know you don
’
t have a driver
’
s license. If I catch you driving the truck, I
’
ll arrest you and then I won
’
t have to worry about where you are.
”

“
I haven
’
t driven for days,
”
I lied, peering out the kitchen window at Barney
’
s truck.

“
I wasn
’
t going to tell you I
’
d assigned a deputy to look out for you, but thought he might scare you if you spotted the tail.
”

“
Thoughtful of you.
”

I hung up.

Cora Mae and I headed for Kitty
’
s house in my truck for the once-in-a-lifetime mother of rummage sales. Just to be on the safe side, we were being very cautious. I bolted the door behind us, checked that all the windows were locked, and had my shotgun loaded and ready. I hoped the gun

battle out at the blind proved to my attacker that I wasn
’
t a sitting duck. If he thought he was going to easily pick off a helpless woman, he didn
’
t know who he was messing with.

The temperature had continued to drop overnight, and a foot of new snow fell right before the cold snap hit, forming a crust of ice over the snow. Not the best day for a rummage.

The rummage sale reminded me of urban sprawl spread across Kitty
’
s entire yard. Cars lined the road, mobs of sightseers pushed through the snow and ice, and Kitty, hunkered down in blankets, beamed from behind her shoebox of newly found cash.

“
I
’
m using your phone,
”
I said to her.
“
I forgot to do something.
”

I called Onni, planning to convince him that he was in danger as well.

“
I
’
m calling to warn you that someone is trying to kill you,
”
I said into the phone.

“
The only one trying to kill me is Gertie Johnson,
”
he said.
“
Who is this?
”

“
Er … this is Gertie Johnson.
”

“
I
’
m going to court to get a restraining order against you. Don
’
t ever call here again.
”
And Onni hung up.

“
Hi, Gert,
”
George called, leaning against a

table filled with junk, his snake hat hissing and a toothpick jutting from the side of his mouth.
“
This is the first rummage sale I
’
ve ever attended right after a snowstorm. Air sure is nippy.
”

I grunted a response.

A yellow Lab with graying fur limped over from the side of the road and wagged a crooked tail.

“
Rescue dog,
”
George told me.
“
I couldn
’
t let them put him down. He
’
s going to be my guard dog.
”

The dog shuffled under the table and plopped down in the snow. He yawned.

“
Mean-looking cuss,
”
I said, wondering how someone who loves animals as much as George does could do wrong by his own species. It wasn
’
t possible.

“
Heard you were over in Gladstone last night,
”
I said casually.

George shook his head.
“
No. Who told you that?
”

“
I must have it mixed up.
”
Wrong answer from George. I felt betrayed, anger and hurt working through my veins.

George looked at the gauze pad on my forehead.
“
That was a close call. How are you doing?
”

Abruptly, I walked away, leaving George gaping. One more second and I would have

told him what I thought of him, the creepy, lying, cheating, money-grabbing killer.

A red pickup truck cruised by and I could see a kid wearing a deputy
’
s hat sitting behind the steering wheel. He slowed and scanned the crowd.

“
Cora Mae,
”
I said after stumbling through the snow and piles of sale items to find her.
“
Let
’
s get out of here. George is following me and so is that red truck parking down the road.
”

Cora Mae, her arms filled with dollhouse furniture, turned and craned her neck, searching for him.
“
I
’
ll stay and keep an eye on George. Make sure Kitty doesn
’
t see you leaving alone.
”

I stole through the shoppers, creeping closer to my truck, careful that Kitty and George and the deputy weren
’
t watching. I ducked down behind a row of cars and made my escape.

Calvin and Helen Sandberg lived on the far side of Chester
’
s land, a mile down Rock Road. One lone dog lifted his nose to the sky in a wild howl when I drove in. He was immediately joined by dozens of other dogs staked in the yard. The symphony was brief. Then they circled their chains in unison, watching me eagerly. Those dogs knew

something was up.

I
’
d never been to the Sandberg place before. By the looks of it, they put all their money into taking care of their dogs, which were spread out as far as the eye could see. Each one had a wood dog house with a flat roof. Some of the dogs were sitting on top of the houses. A pipe was pounded into the ground by each one with a metal swivel and a long length of chain, one end of which was attached to a dog.

I found Calvin and Helen working in the back of the dog yard and they stopped to greet me. I knew who they were from seeing them in town, but like a lot of Stonely residents, they kept to themselves.

They were in their mid-thirties and had already earned a reputation for mid-distance sled dog racing. Every year they competed in the U.P. 300 in Marquette. They had at least fifty Alaskan Huskies, and every once in a while I
’
d see them out on the road driving their dogs. I heard those dogs were capable of running all day without quitting.

Calvin had a gray-speckled beard that hadn
’
t been trimmed for at least ten years. He wore a brown sock cap pulled down tight around his forehead. Helen had on a furry hat with a long raccoon tail. She kept pushing her thick glasses up on her nose

while we talked.

I explained the purpose of my visit while I sized up the dogs, an ugly bunch of mutts, some with blue eyes, some with brown, and a few with one of each color. I
’
ve heard they are friendly, hard-working dogs, and I heard right because when I walked over, every tail wagged.

Suddenly the entire pack broke into a frenzy, howling and circling and straining to break loose. I jumped back and saw Calvin pulling a toboggan-sized sled over from a nearby shed. He draped a black canvas bag over the sled and began attaching it to the sled with straps.

I was dressed for cold weather, wearing my boots, my hunting cap with the earflaps down, Blue Blockers to cut the glare from the cold sun, and a pair of snowmobile gloves. I wasn
’
t cold, but I shivered anyhow.

“
Those dogs look wild to me,
”
I said to Helen, suddenly unsure of this plan.
“
And … and … hairy. This might not be such a good idea. Maybe you should go for me.
”

“
Don
’
t worry,
”
Calvin said.
“
You
’
ll sit in the basket inside the sled bag to stay warm. All you have to do is sit there, and I
’
ll drive you around. It
’
ll be like a horse and buggy ride.
”

“
That doesn
’
t sound hard,
”
I agreed.