Salvaged to Death (14 page)

“Well, I heard these rumors, and…no, forget it. This is stupid. I promised myself I would stop going for the bad guy every time. Think, Sadie, think.” She made a fist and conked herself in the head a few times.

“No, wait, what was the question?” Argus asked.

“You’re going to think I’m dumb,” Sadie said.

“Nuh-uh,” he said.

“I sort of heard that you had done some stuff, and I thought it was kind of hot.” She hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is so embarrassing.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I heard you lifted some stuff.”

“I work out,” he said.

“Not that kind of lifting. I mean you stole some stuff from Tom Tomkins. I heard you broke into the salvage yard and took a bunch of his catalytic converters.”

“No way, that was Johnny,” he blurted and then quickly looked around to make sure they weren’t overheard.

“Oh,” Sadie said. Her voice oozed disappointment and she sat back, deflated.

“I mean, I maybe kind of helped a little, but, you know, it was sort of illegal and I could get arrested if anyone found out.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone. And even if I did, without any evidence, it’s hearsay.”

Argus squinted over the unfamiliar word. He was even dimmer than she had first believed. Unless Johnny was a criminal mastermind, it was a wonder that they got away with such a big heist. Unless they had help. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t get caught. That’s amazing.” She didn’t have to force awe into her tone. How had they gotten away with it when everyone knew they did it?

“We were lucky, I guess,” Argus said. “And it was a long time ago. I don’t do anymore bad stuff since I grew up.”

Right,
Sadie thought,
and I never use tears to get what I want.
“You must have gotten a lot of money for all those converters,” Sadie mused. “That probably set you up for a while.”

“Johnny took all the money when he skipped town,” Argus said. The now-familiar resentment was back.

“No way!” Sadie exclaimed. “That’s horrible. You’re a lot nicer than I am for being friends with him. If I were you, I would never talk to him again.”

“It wasn’t easy, but he promised to make it up to me,” Argus said.

“How?” Sadie asked. She kept the swing going. In her experience, rhythmic movement helped people talk.

“He was going to give me some money,” Argus said.

“He saved the money all that time?” Sadie asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Argus said. When he turned and slid an arm around her shoulders, she knew they had reached the end of the discussion. “You smell real good.”

She wished the same could be said of him. While Sadie had nothing against the musky smell of testosterone, she was repulsed by the fetid smell of fear. That was how Argus smelled, like fear and sweat—a terrible combination. Which part had made him so afraid: searching the basement or answering her questions? He seemed fearless now as he advanced and kissed her. She allowed the kiss. Men with a short fuse like Argus could only be teased so far without a little give. Her phone rang and she drew away, thankful for a reason to break off the slobbery kiss.

“You didn’t call today,” Luke said.

“Hi, Grandma,” Sadie said. She tossed Argus an apologetic smile and wave. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.

“Are you in trouble?” he asked.

“Working,” Sadie said. “How are you? How’s Aunt Abby?”

“Abby and Gideon are feuding again,” Luke said.

“Again? You mean still,” Sadie said. “What now?”

“Barney made his way into our yard. Abby painted his toenails and put a bow on him.”

“That’s like lobbing the first rocket behind enemy lines,” Sadie said. “What did Gideon do?”

“He cut the heads off her hydrangeas and left them on her doorstep,” Luke said.

“That’s pretty bad. Abby loves those hydrangeas, and they had a couple more weeks before the frost.”

“I’m not sure what Abby’s planning, but she’s been locked in her room for a long time now, and every once in a while I hear her cackle and shift something around. I don’t know what it is, but I could swear I saw a little trail of gunpowder leading from her room. They need you as a buffer. Are you coming home today?”

“That’s not looking good,” Sadie said.

He issued a speaking sigh, one that expressed frustration with maybe a hint of longing. Sadie missed him more than she cared to admit, too. They had gone many long years without contact. Why was it now so hard to be apart for a few days? “Why don’t you call your friend from college and tell him it’s time for a visit?” she suggested.

“Are you saying you want me to tell Hal to come and rescue you from your current situation?” he surmised.

“That would be great.”

“Fine, but answer me this: how many stupid and or risky things have you done since we last spoke?”

“About five,” she said.

“You’re under par. Don’t try to catch up.”

“I think I accidentally left a packet of mints in an old purse in my bedroom. Try not to let your girlfriend destroy the house in her quest to track the scent,” Sadie said before disconnecting.

“Your grandma has a girlfriend?” Argus said.

“The older generation doesn’t use that word the same as we do,” Sadie explained. “She calls all her friends her girlfriends.” That part was true; Abby wasn’t her grandmother, but she did refer to her friends as, “girlfriends.”

“Oh,” Argus said and lunged for her with no buildup or preamble. Sadie had witnessed gorillas with more finesse. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hal approach. Argus shrank back, pressing himself against the bench as if trying to disappear. Sadie scanned the horizon, sure that his reaction wasn’t due to Hal. Hal and Luke gave off such strong nerd vibes that they were alternately harmless or infuriating to muscle heads like Argus.

“My dad,” Argus whispered in answer to Sadie’s unasked question. “It wouldn’t go good for him to see me here.”

Sadie sat back, too. It wouldn’t go well for Fergus to see her there, either. Hal had no such compunctions. He strode forward and introduced himself, shaking hands with the sheriff. She couldn’t tell what they were saying from her reclined position. “Why wouldn’t your dad be happy you’re here?” she whispered.

“He didn’t like Johnny, didn’t want him to come back, didn’t want me to hang around with him.”

The sheriff and Hal finished their conversation, and the sheriff went inside. Hal came over to Sadie and Argus, but there was no need for a rescue; Argus didn’t want to remain. He said a quick goodbye to Sadie and sprinted away. Hal took his place and resumed pushing the swing.

“You’re a breath of fresh air,” Sadie said. “Literally.” She breathed deeply and caught a lungful of Hal’s soapy-clean scent, trying hard to erase the sour smell of Argus from her memory.

“Did you get anything?” Hal asked.

“I found nothing in the basement but Bo and Argus. Argus basically admitted that he and Johnny robbed Tom, but I don’t get it. Those two liked to think of themselves as Al Capone and Babyface, but they were probably more like Beavis and Butthead. Mensa did not have them on speed dial, and yet they got away with a crime everyone knew they committed. How?”

“I bet sheriff Daddy has some thoughts on that,” Hal said.

“What did you get from him?”

“The time of day and praise for doing ‘real good work in uncovering that body.’ Also a warning not to go meddling anymore. He actually said ‘meddling,’ like we’re characters in an episode of
Scooby Doo.
”

“Maybe we are,” Sadie said.

“I’d like to think I’m Freddy, but I’m probably Velma,” Hal said. “Where do we go from here?”

“We need to figure out who killed Johnny, where Johnny hid whatever he might have taken, and we still haven’t figured out who tampered with Fiona’s pumpkins. There’s one person who is peripherally related to all those things. I think it’s time we had a conversation with Tom Tomkins.”

“Terrific,” Hal said. “Totally time to talk to Tom. Sorry. I can’t seem to stop the alliteration once it gets going.”

“You can make it up to me by pretending to be a lawyer. How do you feel about committing a felony?”

“I’m surprisingly in favor. I think you might be a bad influence on me.”

“There’s a reason we need Luke. This is probably a horrible idea.”

“Would you listen to him if he was here to warn you?” Hal asked.

“Probably not, but it’s always good to hear the other side of an argument.”

“No, stop, don’t do this, it’s insanity and certain doom. We’re all going to die. Did that help?”

“A little, but you forgot to sigh and shake your head about fifty times.”

“I’ll work on that,” Hal promised.

“We should probably go,” Sadie said.

Hal nodded and yawned but made no move to get up. Sadie stood and tugged him along with her. “C’mon. Pull this off, and I’ll give you a Scooby snack.”

“You’re going to have to scratch behind my ears to make it worth my while,” Hal said as he followed her to the car.

In the end, Hal didn’t have to pretend to be Tom’s lawyer. Fergus ran the county jail with the same laxness and inattention to detail that he had used to run the murder investigation. Prisoners had no set rules for visitation, and also no set schedule. The front desk clerk informed them that as long as the inmates were awake, then, “y’all can see whoever you want.”

“Do you think they’ll hand Otis the key so he can let himself out?” Hal asked as they waited for Tom to arrive.

“This is all going in my report,” Sadie said.

“Stop it. You know it makes me crazy when you’re efficient,” Hal said.

The door clanged open, and Tom Tomkins walked through. If his expression was any indication, he was taken aback and perplexed to see them.

“Did Fiona send you?” he asked. Sadie couldn’t miss the blatant hope in his tone.

“No,” Hal said.

“But she did keep us on to figure out the murder. She doesn’t think you did it,” Sadie added.

“I should hope she knows me better than that, but who knows what’s in that mind of hers sometimes?” Tom muttered. He sat and rested his hands on the table. “What do you want?”

“To ask you some questions and get honest answers,” Sadie said. She was taking over again, but her patience for the game was growing thin. Hal’s work hiatus was almost at an end. She wanted to finish things before he left and she was on her own.

“What do you want to know?” Tom asked.

Sadie decided to go for gold and test a theory. “Why did you let Argus and Johnny go after they robbed you?”

“Argus? What’d he have to do with it? It was just Johnny.”

“How do you know?” Sadie asked.

“He left some evidence at the scene—a baseball cap. And there were fingerprints everywhere.”

“Who told you Johnny worked alone?” Sadie asked.

“The sheriff,” Tom said.

“Fergus McGee, Argus’s father,” Sadie clarified.

Tom nodded.

“Then what happened?” Sadie asked.

“He asked me if I wanted to have Johnny arrested. I said yes, but Shirley intervened. She begged me to let him go and start over somewhere else. The sheriff and I agreed to hide the evidence, and I let him move away.”

“Why did you agree?” Sadie asked.

“She was doing the best she could by him, working two jobs to support him after his mom ran out. It’s not right for grandparents to have to raise their grandchildren that way. I agreed as long as he paid back the money. She said she couldn’t find the money and promised to pay me back in increments. At first I agreed, but after I got over my anger, I let the money go.”

“Did Fiona know anything about this arrangement?” Hal asked.

“What? No. Why would I tell her?”

“Because she’s your wife,” Sadie said.

“I’m not a monkey on a leash. I don’t tell her everything,” Tom said.

“Were you having an affair with Shirley?” Sadie asked.

“What?” Tom erupted from the chair as he shouted. No officers checked in or told him to pipe down. Sadie guessed it was probably naptime for the jail staff.

“I need a true answer. I’ll know if you’re lying.” She stared hard at him until he slowly sat.

“No, I never cheated on Fiona. Ever.”

Sadie took her time to answer. Tom returned her unwavering gaze. “Some might consider striking a secret financial bargain with a woman as a form of cheating,” she pointed out.

“No woman in her right mind.” He scratched his whiskers and gazed thoughtfully into space. “In that case, I guess Fiona might. It vexed me that she wouldn’t believe I didn’t cheat, but maybe she picked up on the arrangement and thought it was something else. Confound that woman and her suspicious mind.”

Sadie refrained from pointing out that it was his sneakiness that set Fiona off in the first place. “Did you have any contact with Johnny after his return to town?”

“Some. I was on real high alert in case he might try to rob me again. Just like dogs return to their sick, so do criminals return to their targets. I didn’t make that up; it’s in the Bible. Anyhow, I saw him skulking around one day and took care of it.”

“What does that mean?” Sadie asked.

“I set Bo on him. He drove him out to the middle of nowhere and scared him real good. He didn’t come back after that, at least not as far as I ever saw. He must have come at some point, I guess. I wonder what he was up to.”

“Who do you think killed him?” Hal asked.

“Oh, I, um, I wouldn’t know about that,” Tom said, but he was clearly lying.

“Do you think Bo did it?” Sadie asked.

His gaze slid away. “Bo’s a good worker, the best I ever had. And he’s real smart, too. He wasn’t too crazy about Johnny, but I would never say he did it.”

Even if it meant he had to go to jail for the crime. “You and Fiona are a pretty good match,” Sadie said.

He blinked furiously a few times and faked a cough to cover any signs of tears. “I loved Fiona since we was just kids. She makes everything pretty and nice, and her food is the best. I haven’t had a good meal since she made me leave. I never thought she’d have kicked me out and asked for a divorce.”

“You need to tell her the truth—the whole truth,” Sadie said. “And you don’t have to worry about Bo. He didn’t kill Johnny.”

Tom perked up as a ray of hope lit his eyes. “He didn’t?”

“No.”

“Who did?” Tom asked.

“We’re working on it,” Sadie said. “In the meantime, if you think of anything else, anything at all, let us know.”

“What now?” Hal asked as they stood and made their way to the foyer.

“Now I think it’s time for the gloves to come off,” Sadie said. In the parking lot, the sheriff was just returning to work. He didn’t even park in a straight line, Sadie noted.

“Oooh, someone’s going to get it,” Hal said.

“I wish,” Sadie said. “Unfortunately, I only want answers. Maybe someday someone will pay attention to what Fergus is doing here and call him on it. Sadly, today is not that day.”

Fergus ambled in, using the leisurely pace of someone who had all the time in the world. He yawned, sparking an answering yawn in Hal. “I’m going to need a nap by the time he gets in here,” Hal said.

“His muscles are going to atrophy if he walks any slower,” Sadie agreed.

“This is what it would be like if a sloth put on a uniform and walked upright,” Hal said.

“Sloths are faster and probably have better hygiene,” Sadie said. Fergus finally made it to the door. He didn’t spare Sadie and Hal a glance as he moseyed through the lobby and toward a locked door that presumably contained his office.

“Sheriff McGee,” Hal called

Fergus stopped and turned in a slow circle, scanning the lobby as if it were packed with people and figuring out who spoke would take some effort. Finally his gaze settled on Hal.

“Oh,” he said.

“I was wondering if we might have a moment of your time,” Hal said.

“I was just about to go to lunch,” Fergus said.

Sadie exerted maximum effort to keep a rejoinder in check. How many breaks did he take in a day?
Not my business, not my business,
she reminded herself.

“This will just take a moment,” Hal said.

Fergus sighed expansively, his great barrel chest heaving like a bellows. “All right. Do you mind if I eat while we talk? I’m starving.”

“Not at all,” Hal said. He fell into line behind Fergus, Sadie trotting dutifully in his wake like a lap dog. She did not enjoy bringing up the rear. Not that she would ever admit as much to Luke. Fergus sat behind his desk and pulled out a lunch pail with a logo of
Mork and Mindy
on the cover. The battered metal container mesmerized Sadie, which was a good thing since she dared not look at Hal and read whatever he might be thinking. Fergus pulled out a sandwich and tucked in, emitting mewling noises of pleasure as the tuna fish hit his gullet.

“Um,” Hal said, shuffling his gaze between the sandwich and the lunchbox. Sadie wasn’t sure she had ever seen him at a loss for words before. He gave her a helpless look and a little shrug. The corner of his mouth twitched, a cue that he was trying desperately not to laugh.
Help me out here,
his look seemed to say, and so Sadie did.

“I want to know why you let Johnny go after he and your son robbed Tom Tomkins’ salvage yard,” Sadie blurted. Fergus choked. Hal sat up and turned serious in case his professional skills would be in need. When the chunk of tuna was finally hacked up and swallowed, Fergus spoke.

“Who told you that?” Fergus asked. “Argus wasn’t there.”

“Argus was there, and I have proof,” Sadie lied. “It’s been a long time, and chances are good that nothing will come of it—especially with a key witness conveniently dead—but I still want the truth. Why did you let Johnny go? You could have scapegoated him for the entire thing. You had the evidence; why didn’t you use it?”

“I don’t have to tell you nothing,” Fergus exclaimed. He angrily reached just behind Mork’s head, withdrew a Little Debbie and a Snack-Pack of pudding, and slammed them on the desk.  

“You do if you don’t want a special prosecutor going through your cases with a fine-tooth comb. I watched you arrest Tom the other night, Fergus; I counted the violations and wrote them down. Something tells me that wasn’t the only lapse in procedure since you took office.”

“You don’t have anything on me,” Fergus said but his hand shook as he tore open the Fudge Round and stuffed it into his mouth.

“I have more dirt on you than you have food on your shirt, and that’s saying something,” Sadie said. “Now, all you have to do is answer a simple question, and I’ll be on my way. Why did you agree to let Johnny go instead of prosecute?”

“Because we didn’t have the evidence,” Fergus said.

“You had the cap,” Sadie said.

“The cap wasn’t his,” Fergus said.

“You had the fingerprints,” Sadie said.

“There were lots of fingerprints,” Fergus shot back.

Sadie stared at him, thinking. Even if the cap and some of the fingerprints pointed to Argus, he could have covered them. Something didn’t add up. She didn’t know what it was, and her gut told her she had pushed Fergus as far as he was willing to go. So far he had said nothing that would implicate himself or his son. Was he covering for them or someone else?

“All right,” Sadie said at last. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

Fergus popped open the pudding and shoveled a celebratory spoonful. After he swallowed, a new thought occurred to him. “Who are you anyway?”

Sadie stood and shook a curl off her face, unconsciously pushing back her shoulders and standing taller. “I’m Sadie Cooper. Gideon sends his regards.” Fergus’s eyes bulged, the pudding spoon bobbed ominously between his lips, but he remained mute as Sadie and Hal walked out of his office.

“That was amazing,” Hal said. “‘I’m Sadie Cooper. Gideon sends his regards.’” He imitated her voice and shook his head, pretending to toss his hair.

Sadie smiled, but she wasn’t happy to have reignited the fires of fatherly pride that still smoldered deep inside. She thought that the difficulty with Gideon through the years had doused those embers. Apparently not. Realizing that a part of her still kept her father on a pedestal, albeit a tiny and hidden one, added another layer to their already complex relationship.

Hal’s phone buzzed. When he pulled it out and read it, his face fell. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What is it?” Sadie asked.

“I’ve been recalled.”

“Already? I thought your model had a few good years left.”

He put her in a gentle headlock. “I’ve been called in to the hospital. Vacation over.”

“Can they do that?”

“Sweetheart, they can tell me put on a coconut bra and dance the hula. They own me. I’m sorry.”

“Hal, don’t be sorry.  You’ve been great. You miraculously made Bateman fun. I’m only sorry that you won’t be here for the resolution.”

“Do you think you’ll resolve it?”

“I’m going to try,” Sadie said. “You know how much I hate to give up.”

“A lot,” Hal said. The ride back to Fiona’s house was tinged with melancholy. Sadie sat on his bed and watched him pack. She walked him to his car. He kissed her forehead and drove away. She checked her phone to see if Luke had called. He hadn’t, and she experienced a tidal wave of homesickness, something that hadn’t happened since her freshman year of college. Bateman wasn’t her place; its people were not her own. She wanted to go home to Atwood, ASAP.

She turned to the house and set a course for action. The best way to stir up a hornet’s nest was with a very big twig, and Sadie had just the stick.