Vanessa Gray Bartal - Lacy Steele 07 - Icy Grip of Murder (17 page)

“More like
Lennie
from
Of Mice and Men,
” Michael said.

“I want to have another
conversation with Flea, too,” Jason said. “I’ve been thinking. He had the
easiest access to Jenny, she was found at his workplace, and he was there when
someone threw a rock through the window of her cabin.”

“What’s his motive for murder?”
Michael said.

“Maybe something we don’t know.
Maybe Flea and Jenny had a scheme going, too. That would make sense because she
was using everyone else. Why leave him out?” Lacy said.

“Because he wasn’t very good at
crime,” Michael said. “If I had to rank my friends in order of their ability to
commit crime, Jenny was first—after myself, of course—then Louse,
Bug, Larva, and Flea.”

“Why haven’t I ever ranked the
people I know in order of their ability to commit crime? I’m going to do that,”
Lacy said.

“I ranked the people I know in
order of their ability to commit crime and then arrested them accordingly,”
Jason said. “It was fun.”

“Are we ready to go, or did you
want to order another
kringle
and try to pretend it’s
for all of us?” Michael asked him.

“I guess we can go,” Jason said,
staring forlornly at the
kringles
on display.

“Maybe you could hang one around
your neck and gnaw on it all day, like a candy necklace,” Michael suggested.

“I don’t want to look stupid,”
Jason said, smoothing a flap of his hat.

“That ship sailed when you decided
to make flannel a fashion statement,” Michael said.

“Who are we seeing first today,
Flea or Larva?” Lacy asked.

“Larva. I want to hear what he has
to say before we double down on Flea,” Michael said.

“At what point do we bring the
police in on this?” Lacy asked.

“Never, if I could help it,”
Michael said.

“As soon as we have everything tied
up in a neat little package,” Jason said.

None of them said what they were
thinking.
What if they never had things
tied up in a neat little package? What if they never figured out who killed
Jenny?
At some point they would have to go home. When they stepped outside
and saw a police cruiser parked beside their car, Lacy hoped it was sooner
rather than later.

“We need to talk to you,” Andersen
said, zeroing in on Michael as soon as they stepped out of the coffee shop.

“Shocking,” Michael replied. “Can
we go somewhere warm, or is making us freeze a part of the deal?”

“We can go down to the station,”
Anderson said.

“Am I under arrest again?” Michael
asked.

“Not yet,” Andersen said.

“Then I’m not going back there.”

“Let’s go in there,” Anderson said,
motioning to the doughnut shop.

“Cops who want to go to the
doughnut place—kind of cliché, don’t you think?” Michael asked.

“Unless you’re on vacation,” Jason
added under his breath but Anderson and Andersen didn’t hear him. She
sympathized with him; he hated to say anything negative about fellow cops, but
Anderson and Andersen were making it difficult to say anything good. They
seemed bent on pinning something, anything on Michael.

They went back into the coffee shop
and sat down. There wasn’t a table big enough for all of them, so Michael,
Lacy, and Jason squeezed together onto one side of the booth.

“Ah, togetherness,” Michael
muttered. To the cops, he spoke louder. “What’s this about?”

“It turns out Jenny might not have
offed herself after all. The ME thinks she had a little help,” Anderson said.

“You don’t say,” Michael said.

“Cut the attitude, Smith,” Andersen
said. “We’ve got a dead girl and you’re looking pretty good as our prime
suspect.”

“I’ve had this dream before, I
think,” Michael said. “Look, I’m the one who told you Jenny didn’t kill
herself, or did you conveniently forget that?”

“You knew we’d find out eventually.
You were trying to preemptively cover your tracks,” Andersen said.

“What about the part of the story
where I have a solid alibi?” Michael said.

“Who? Hat Flaps and Mrs. Hat Flaps?
Obviously they’re lying for you,” Anderson said.

“Hey, I resent that. I have a sworn
duty to uphold the law, and there is nothing wrong with my hat,” Jason said.

“The hat is beyond debate. As for
you being sworn to uphold the law, you flew halfway across the country for this
guy,” Andersen said, motioning dismissively toward Michael.

“Just because he screwed up when he
was a kid doesn’t mean he’s still a
screwup
now,”
Jason said.

“You’re a cop, Cantor. How many
guys like him do you know who change their colors?” Anderson asked. Jason had
no reply to that, but Lacy did.

“Maybe a lot more people if they
were taken in by a community, given a chance, and shown some love,” she said.

Anderson rolled his eyes to
Andersen as if to say,
“Do you
believe this chick?”

“Here’s what it comes down to: you
have nothing on me. You have no proof that I killed Jenny because I didn’t. You
leave me no choice but to do your jobs for you,” Michael said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Anderson said.

“It means I think you’re a pair of
incompetent idiots with barely enough brown power between you to tie one of
your shoes. It means I’m going to find Jenny’s killer, with the help of my
friends. Maybe I’ll hand deliver him to you, or maybe I’ll keep the information
to myself and bide my time on the best reveal. One of you has to be up for
chief soon, right? I heard Chief Cunningham is about to drop dead from a heart
attack any day.”

“You stay out of this
investigation,” Anderson warned, wagging a pale, beefy finger under Michael’s
nose.

“Or what? You’ll arrest me for
another murder I didn’t commit again? My lawyer would have a field day with
that,” Michael said. “I’ll do what I want, when I want, and you can stay out of
my way. Or maybe yours will be the next car I decide to put on ice.” He slid
out of the booth and slammed out of the shop.

“So, we’re going to go now,” Lacy
said to fill the awkward silence.

“Try the
kringle
,”
Jason added. They slid out of the booth and followed Michael outside.

“I don’t understand why they don’t
like you; you come off so sweet,” Lacy said.

Michael was pacing back and forth
running his hands through his hair. “I swore I would never come back here, and
now I’m stuck for the duration. Why did I give up smoking?”

“Because you believe tar belongs on
the road and not in your lungs,” Lacy said. “Come on, let’s go talk to Larva.
That’ll make you feel better.”

“You underestimate what it takes to
make me feel better,” Michael said.

“I’ll let you wear my hat,” Jason
offered.

Michael cracked a smile. “I don’t
think I’ll ever feel that bad. Let’s go.”

“We have a tail again,” Jason noted
as they headed toward Larva’s house. Lacy peeped over the back seat and saw the
gray sedan a few car lengths behind. It was impossible to tell who was driving,
but she only saw one person in the vehicle.

“Why?” she asked.

“The million dollar question,”
Michael said. “It makes no sense that our almost geriatric hosts should be
following us. It’s not as if they killed Jenny. Can you see Len propping his oxygen
tank against a tree so he could boost Jenny into a rope? And even though
Linda’s a big woman, I don’t think she’s strong enough for that.”

“We’re missing something, something
more than murder. If we could find out what Jenny was up to, I think we could
fill in a lot of the blanks. Someone knows and they’re not telling,” Jason
said.

“Maybe they’re all in on it
together. They seemed to know when we were coming last time, which proves they
had contact,” Lacy said.

“In on what, though?” Michael said.

“You said that Larva is the weakest
link. Maybe we should put the screws to him to find out. Even if he wasn’t
directly involved, the chances are good that he knows what was going on,” Lacy
said.

“Why are you suddenly willing to
‘put the screws’ to a potentially innocent person in order to obtain
information?” Michael asked.

“Because I’m ready to go home.
Aren’t you?” Lacy asked.

“Yes, and one reason is because
Northern Lacy scares me a little,” he said.

“I think she’s perfect wherever we
go,” Jason said.

“You know you got her; you can stop
sucking up,” Michael said.

“I’m getting a clearer picture of
why you’re serially single,” Jason said.

“As soon as I tie up this pesky
murder of my last girlfriend, maybe I’ll be ready to look for another,” Michael
said. “Maybe Kimber.” He was trying to provoke Lacy; she knew because he
glanced in the rearview mirror to gage her reaction.

“I think you should give Suze
another chance. She seems more your type,” Lacy said.

“Crazy and desperate? Yes, I see
that,” Jason said.

“I don’t know what I want, but I
know what I don’t, and that includes anyone who eats her own hair or stuffs
dead animals for fun,” Michael said.

“That narrow minded attitude rules
out a lot of quality women,” Jason said.

“It’s a moot point anyway because I’m
years and years and years from being ready to settle down,” Michael said.

“You say that now, but then one day
the girl who used to play second chair clarinet in the marching band comes back
to town, and BAM, life turns upside down,” Jason said.

“Don’t try to pretend we’re the
same because we’re not. You were born to be monogamous,” Michael said. “And,
despite a few outward differences, you two are basically Mike and Carol Brady.
You’re both squeaky clean and old fashioned. You have way more in common than
you realize. If we’re going to talk relationships, let’s talk about yours. What
was up with that ring in Louse’s shop?”

“Oh, look, we’re here,”
Lacy
said as they pulled up in front of Larva’s
grandmother’s bungalow. “Too bad.”

“I’m going to save this rain check
for when I want to make you uncomfortable again, which will probably be soon,”
Michael said.

As before, Larva was outside
painting. The picture was more complete this time. He had added a stream,
though none existed in the yard, and trees, lots of trees.
 

“What’s up, man?” he greeted
Michael.

“Nothing much. Just wrapping some
loose ends before I leave town,” Michael replied.

“You leaving? I thought you weren’t
allowed,” Larva said. He was intent on his brushwork, his tongue compressed
between his lips, his ‘fro waving gently back and forth as he stippled some
leaves on trees.

“They let me go because I didn’t
kill Jenny, as we both know,” Michael said. His tone was insinuating, as if he
and Larva shared the same secret.

“I thought it was suicide.”

“So did the cops, at first, but
they’re coming around to the truth.” Michael leaned on the car beside Larva. He
was already tall, so Larva had to look up to see him properly. Lacy wondered if
he did it on purpose as some sort of psychological power play.

“What truth is that?” Larva asked.
He set aside the brush and gave Michael his full attention.

“Jenny was killed. C’mon, you know
she wouldn’t kill herself, no way. Besides, I know she had something big going
on, a money maker.”

“Yeah?” Larva said.

“I’m leaving here and I’m never
coming back. But I want to know the truth before I go away. I know you know
what Jenny was into.”

“What makes you think I know?”

“I think you all know, but I think
you’re the only one with guts enough to tell me,” Michael said. He didn’t say,
What
would Bob Ross do
? But the insinuation
hung in the air.

Larva picked up the brush and
rolled it nervously between his fingers. “I don’t like to rat out my friends.”

“It’s for a good cause,” Michael
prompted.

“Well, I know she was getting cars
for Bug’s chop shop.”

“That dried up a while ago.”

“She was providing jewelry for
Louse’s store,” Larva said.

“That ran out, too. I need to know
something more recent. What was she up to since she disappeared?”

“I don’t know,” Larva said, but he
was clearly lying. He put the brush to the canvas and began stippling leaves
again.

“What about Len and Linda?”

“Len and Linda? What do they have
to do with anything?” Larva asked.

“I don’t know, but their car has
been following us. And they acted weird about Jenny’s death.”

“I have no idea. I haven’t had
contact with them since I moved out at eighteen,” Larva said.

“What about everyone else? Don’t
tell me you haven’t had contact with them,” Michael said. He stared hard at the
back of Larva’s giant head. The stippling brush picked up its pace, maddeningly
putting leaves on the house, the trash can, the stream. “I thought you of
everyone would show me some loyalty.”

Larva frowned at the canvas.
“Jenny’s dead. Let it go. Be thankful and go back where you came from.”

“I can’t because they’re going to
accuse me, and we both know I didn’t do it. Are you going to let that happen
when you know the truth?” Michael asked.

Larva ignored him and kept
painting.

“You’re going to need a bigger
canvas to cover all that guilt. Come on,” he turned and jerked his head,
indicating that Lacy and Jason should follow him.

This time when they started to
drive, no one was behind them. The police cruiser was gone, as was the gray
sedan.

“That’s one question that’s easy to
answer,” Michael muttered, more to himself than to them. He seemed agitated by
his friends’ refusal to step forward and offer information about Jenny’s
activities.

“Maybe they were all complicit in
what Jenny was doing,” Lacy offered. “No one wants to incriminate himself.”

“Okay, say I buy that. How do Len
and Linda figure in there?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,”
Jason said. They returned to Len and Linda’s bungalow. The gray sedan sat in
the driveway. As they walked by, they felt the hood; it was warm.

Len and Linda sat in the kitchen,
enjoying another round of coffee. Linda smiled brightly in greeting. Michael
ran out of steam at that smile. Storming into their kitchen to accuse them of
trailing them seemed ridiculous when Len was puffing on an oxygen tank and
Linda was offering coffee and cookies while polka music droned cheerfully in
the background.

They accepted the offer of coffee
and sat at the table. “Your car followed us,” Michael said. Even though he
blurted it with no preamble, Lacy thought it was a smart way to go—state
the facts without laying blame.

“What?” Linda said, screwing up her
face in confusion.

“Your car, it’s been trailing us
off and on since we arrived.”

“Oh,” Linda said. She sat, the
coffee pot coming to rest on the table with a thud.

“It wasn’t you, was it?” Michael
asked.

“No, of course not. We’ve been here
all morning,” Len said.

“But you know who it is, don’t
you?”

“Well, we don’t want to get anyone
in trouble,” Linda said. “And I’m sure it was innocent, anyway.”

“Look, Linda, I’m being accused of
a murder I didn’t commit. Everyone I used to count as a friend is stonewalling
me. Don’t tell me you’re going to be one of those.”

She looked down, staring at the
table as she thought it over. “It was Flea,” she said at last. “He said he
needed to borrow our car because his was acting up and he didn’t trust it. We
didn’t know what he wanted it for.”

“Flea drives a monster truck with a
bad muffler. I would have recognized it anywhere and noticed it coming a mile
away,” Michael said.

“Surely he didn’t mean anything by
following you. He was probably just curious about what you were doing,” Linda
said.

“We’ll find out in a few minutes
when we go talk to him,” Michael said.

“You’ll be easy on him, won’t you?
He’s a good boy at heart,” Linda said.

Lacy wondered if she realized that
“good boy” was their prime suspect in Jenny’s murder? And had Linda ever seen
his feet? No one good could have feet like that. She shuddered at the thought
of facing them again.