The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land (23 page)

He was right, but I didn’t intend to answer the bastard.

I could tell they were confused, but I was still trapped.
 
Unless I intended to swim the lake, I had no escape.

The one called Russoti was having some issues with his weapon – the BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle).
 
He walked into the Chrysler headlights to clear the magazine jam – which was his mistake. My bullet caught him just below his throat from the rear – he fell onto the hood and never made another sound.

I re-deployed.

“Mr. Reno, that was not nice.
 
Alex Russoti had a girlfriend with two small children – who will take care of them?” Brad Knuchols yelled.

Like I really gave a shit – right?

Unless I got back to the Ford, I only had three bullets left.
 
I had to make them count.

I couldn’t see Knuchols well enough to take a shot and I suspected Joe Brody was making some move to flank my position.
 
I really didn’t have much of a position, just some brush and small trees in front – the lake behind.

I backed about 3-4 feet out into the lake, just above waist deep, and used two bullets to take out the remaining headlights on the Chrysler.
 
When I did, Brody fired – not out into the water, he didn’t figure me being there, but at the clump of trees in front of me.
 
I put my last bullet just underneath where I last saw the muzzle flash – I heard a body hit the ground.

“Mr. Reno, now it is dark and we are alone,” Brad Knuchols laughed.
 
“I don’t think you have anymore bullets – am I right? Come up here, I promise to end this quickly.”

After shooting Brody, I worked my way back to my car – which thankfully, was not blocked in by the disabled Chrysler and Van.
 

Figuring Knuchols would head toward Brody’s body, that would give me only a few seconds to get the Ford started and leave this gunfight – fortunately it worked.
 
He fired a desperation shot at my car, as I made as much dust as possible heading back toward the main road.

Halfway back to the Crossing I met the Calvary – Leroy and another patrol car with all lights flashing.
 
I stopped and they stopped too.

“Carson, you idiot!
 
What are you doing?
 
We were afraid you might have gotten yourself in trouble,” Leroy was yelling at me.

“Not me – but you do need to call an ambulance.
 
There are a couple of guys at the lake who are going to need some medical attention.
 
Knuchols is still there - with no vehicle. Unless he swims the lake, you should be able to take him with little problem.
 
I would, however, be prepared for a fight.”

“Okay, you come with us,” Leroy said.

 
“No sir,” I protested. “I haven’t eaten and have a steak waiting for me at Chiefs – you can find me there.”

~

I
took my seat at the bar and told Nickie she could have Ronnie cook that steak.
 
She gave me an odd look.

“Are you okay?
 
I want to know because Leroy and his crew came through here like a lightning bolt looking for you. They seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.
 
I just need some dry clothes and to stop by Gibson Hardware tomorrow and pick up more bullets from Gibby.
 
Other than that, I’m okay.
 
However, a jack/coke would be in order – please.”

She just stood, silently staring at me.

~

I
had already finished my steak when Leroy took at seat on a stool next to me at the bar.

“Carson, when you are in my county, you are my responsibility.
 
I need you to understand that. Whatever possessed you to take that ride tonight is a mystery to me.
 
I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt.”

“And the status of the bad guys?”

“One dead, two wounded – one seriously.
 
Evidently you took Alex Russoti’s lights out and did some serious damage to the Joe Brody character. Brad Knuchols put up a short fight, but it didn’t last long – he’ll probably be healthy enough to sit in one of my cells tomorrow.”

I spent the next hour catching Leroy up on my events of the day.
 
 
He didn’t have a lot to add – other than they would probably make formal charges against Travis tomorrow.
 
They were waiting to talk with Phillip Chaney, who was scheduled to fly in tomorrow morning.
 
His input would be crucial in whatever formal charges would be issued.

“Leroy, I’ve got three things to do tomorrow.
 
After that, I think we can plan a program to wrap this case up”

“You are kidding – right?
 
I’ve got a kidnapping, I’ve got a dead girl, I’ve got ransom notes, I’ve got Mafia thugs shooting up my county, I’ve got the FBI with their nose up my ass and you just casually say – ‘we’ll wrap this thing up after tomorrow’?
 
What have I missed?”

“You need a drink – Nickie, get Leroy a beer,” I ordered.

Leroy was upset. “Look, I don’t need a beer.
 
I just need some answers and this city back to normal. I need to solve this crime and put the person in jail that did it.
 
What I don’t need are any more shoot-outs between a loose cannon detective and Mafia hoods.”

“Listen Leroy, I just need a few more hours.
 
Scotty and Jeff are very helpful and I think if I can get the right information, we’ll resolve this thing very soon.
 
Right now, I just need you to let me do my thing. Okay?’

“I sure hope you have the same relationship with the next sheriff.
 
Because I’m sure I will never get reelected.”
 
I know he was kidding – I think.

More Pieces

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I
grabbed a coffee to go and called Forrest Chaney from the outside payphone.
 
He wasn’t in, so I left my message with his secretary.
 
I was returning his call and would like to meet him for lunch today – if possible.
 
She said his calendar was free and she would give him the message when he arrived at the office.
 
I told her I would call back in an hour to confirm our lunch appointment.

My first stop was at the sheriff’s office.
 
Scotty was handling the desk and, as usual, Leroy was somewhere else.
 
I needed to know if they had found any information on Denny Smith and a local address. They had.

Denny ‘Dude’ Smith, Phillip Chaney’s half brother, was renting a house on Sandersbluff Road near the town of Three Way.
 
Even though it had an elementary school, I never considered Three Way a town – it really just represented a split in Highway 45 – a fork in the road.
 
45 East went through Medina and on to Milan – 45 West traveled through Humboldt.

Evidently Denny Smith had been living at this residence for several months.
 
Since he seemingly had no visible means of income, it was assumed he was using some inheritance as a means of support.
 
Scotty said the sheriff’s office had no record of any problems with Denny Smith, or any calls to this residence.
 
If he had been up to something, it was under the local police radar.

Leroy’s cruiser pulled into the parking lot just as I was getting in my car.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“I’m going to visit the bait shop and then head back to Memphis for a lunch meeting.
 
I’ll be back this evening.”

Leroy was shaking his head. “There is no need to visit the bait shop – I just came from there. I had to make a routine visit for the records, but Lee and Barbara Stevens had nothing to add regarding Charlotte’s death.
 
And besides, this afternoon Travis Luckey will be formally charged with the murder of Charlotte Luckey.”

“Doctor Barker give you a cause of death?” I asked.

“Yes, she received a massive blow to the left temple – instrument unknown – but probably something like a baseball bat.
 
Death, or at least unconsciousness, was instant - with sure death only a few minutes later.
 
She had no water in her lungs – so she was dead when thrown in the lake.”

“Horrible,” I said shaking my head.

“Yes it is.
 
Jeff has gone to pick up Billy Vickers for routine questioning.
 
Again, only a formality because Travis will be charged this afternoon.”

“Leroy, I would like to talk to that young man, Billy Vickers, myself.”

“Then stick around, Jeff should be back anytime now,” Leroy said as he headed toward the door.

“Can’t do that – I’ve got to get on the road.”

“Well, stay away from the bait shop,” Leroy said again.
 
 
“There is no need for you to bother my citizens.
 
I told you they don’t know anything.”

“Okay, Leroy, I’ll take that under advisement.
 
Did you hear the information Scotty has regarding Denny Smith?”

“No, not yet.”

“Get him to brief you on it.
 
I’m headed to Memphis and will call you later,” I said getting into my car.

I pointed the Ford toward the bait shop.
 
Damn, I am hardheaded.

~

R
eg’s bait shop is located on Humboldt Lake Road and owned by Lee and Barbara Stevens.
 
Barbara Stevens was formerly the coach’s wife – Barbara Gannon.

It was a harmless looking place; one that I had driven by many times but never really thought much about.

I grabbed a coke from the outside drink box and walked inside – it was a real bait shop.
 
They had minnow tanks bubbling in one corner and several racks of assorted fishing equipment scattered throughout the store.
 
A few grocery items were also available, I assume some of the locals used the bait shop for their staples and necessities.

An older, but attractive woman stood up from behind the small counter – I guessed this to be Barbara Stevens. “Good morning, how may we help you today?”

“How’s the fishing?” Like I really cared.

“You thinking about the lake or the river?” By river she must have meant the Forked Deer River, which was nearby.

“I’m a lake man, myself,” I said sounding confident. “Never been much for the river.”
 
Was I really this full of shit?

“Then I would suggest trying the crappie using minnows – they’ve been biting pretty good,” she was honestly trying to help.

As we were having our fishing chat, I sensed someone walking up behind me.
 
I turned to see a very large man standing only inches from my back.
 
He was wearing a rubber apron over his jeans, a denim shirt and a green John Deere hat on his head.
 
He wasn’t smiling.

“Barbara, this bastard is not interested in fishing.
 
He’s that private detective from Memphis and is out here snooping around.
 
Right, Mr. Las Vegas, or whatever your name is,” he growled.

“My name is Carson Reno and I’m not snooping.
 
I just wanted to ask both of you a couple of questions – if I could.”

“Bullshit!” he yelled. “If you’re not snooping, then what is this crap about ‘are the fish biting’?
 
You’re snooping to see if we know anything about that dead girl they pulled from the lake. Right?”

“Okay, since you brought it up – what do you know?” I directed that question to them both, but this guy was dominating the conversation.

“We know just what we told Sheriff Epsee not over an hour ago – which is nothing.
 
Barbara and I are not glad she’s dead, but if anybody deserved it, she was high on the list.
 
That girl brought nothing but sadness and hurt to anybody and everybody around her. Barbara has suffered enough because of Charlotte Luckey and I don’t intend for her death to add anymore.
 
So, unless you want to buy some minnows, worms or fishing tackle, I suggest you get back in that turd you call a car and do your snooping somewhere else.
 
Am I being clear?”