2 A Deadly Beef (21 page)

"When
you figure it out, you know where I’ll be," Moose said. 
"You said you had a clue about who killed Wally when you were
rambling.  Do you care to share it with us?"

"Take
my advice.  Never take the word of a drunk," Dave said.

"So,
you’re not going to answer me?" Moose asked.

"No,
as a matter of fact, I’m not."  He looked around the loading
dock, and then added, "I need a towel."

"Sorry,
I don’t have one on me."  My grandfather turned to me and
asked, "Victoria, are you ready to go?"

"Why
not?" I asked as I followed him back to the truck.  "It
appears that our work is done here."

"At
least for now," Moose said. 

Once we
were back in the truck and headed toward the diner, my grandfather added,
"We need to ramp things up in our investigation.  Two of our best
suspects could be gone as early as tomorrow, and then where will we be? 
If Wally’s murder remains unsolved after they leave and one of them did
it, there are folks around town who will be pointing at us and whispering
behind our backs until the end of time."

"I
have an idea.  It might sound crazy, but at this point, what choice do we
have?" I asked Moose.  "Desperate times call for desperate
measures."

"Go
ahead, you’ve got my attention.  I’m listening," my
grandfather said.

I
decided that he was right. 

At
this point, we really didn’t have anything to lose.

Chapter 13

"Moose,
do you happen to know how good the hospital is at keeping the status of their
patients quiet, if it’s important?" I asked.

"I
guess it all depends on the patient, and the circumstances.  Why do you
ask?" my grandfather replied.

"What
if we tell every person we suspect in the murder that Ron is awake now, and
that he’s starting to talk?  Wouldn’t that force someone to
make a bold move to try to stop him?"

Moose
looked at me intently for a moment.  "Victoria, it might work, but
I’m afraid that there are too many factors we can’t control."

"Like
what?"

"Well,
right off the top of my head, we’ll need Sheriff Croft’s
cooperation, since we can’t guard Ron’s room by ourselves, and the
hospital will have to be in on it, too.  What makes you think they’d
have any interest in inviting a killer onto their grounds, with all of their
vulnerable patients there?  I’m sorry, but there are just too many
things that could go wrong."

"I
know that you’re making some good points, but what if this is our last
chance to smoke out the killer?"  I grabbed my cell phone, but
before I dialed a number I knew by heart, I asked Moose, "Unless you
strenuously object, I’m going to call Sheriff Croft.  If he hates
the idea, we’ll come up with something else, but we at least owe it to
ourselves to try."

"Go
on, be my guest.  It’s worth a shot."

"But
you still don’t think it will work, do you?" I asked him.

"Hang
on.  I’ve got a better idea.  Don’t call him,"
Moose said.

It was
out of character for my grandfather to just give up like that, and I was more
than a little disappointed in him.  "Why shouldn’t I?" I
asked, trying to keep the hurt feelings out of my voice.

"A
phone call’s no good.  Victoria, we need to pitch this to him
face-to-face," he said as he headed for the police station. 
"I don’t have a clue whether it will work or not, but you’re
right.  We need to give it a shot if the sheriff is willing to help us
make it happen." 

I felt
much better about my grandfather at that point, and I regretted losing faith in
him, if only for a few seconds.

When we
got to the police station, Heather Jones was working the front desk. 
Heather and I had gone to school together, and I’d briefly dated her big
brother, Lucky, once upon a time.  Heather had been pleasingly plump as a
girl, but she’d lost most of the extra weight in the years since, and it
was hard to tell now that she was even the same person. 

"Hey,
Heather," I said.  "Is Sheriff Croft around?"

"As
a matter of fact, he just got back in," she said, and then she lowered
her voice as she explained, "but if whatever you have to say can wait,
I’d let it.  He’s in one of his moods."

"Thanks
for the heads up," I said in turn, "but I can’t put this
off."

Heather
smiled a little ruefully.  "It’s all on your shoulders,
then."  She picked up her phone, and after announcing us, she said,
"Hold on.  I’ll check."

Heather
covered the receiver as turned to me.  "He wants to know what this
is about."

"Tell
him it concerns Wally Bain, and his murderer," I said.  That should
do the trick, if nothing else would.

She
looked surprised, but she did as I asked and conveyed the information to her
boss.  After hanging up, Heather whistled softly, and then she said,
"You can go on back."  As we passed her desk, Heather said
softly, "Good luck.  You’re going to need it."

I was
afraid that she was right, but if Moose and I let the opportunity pass to catch
a killer just because we were worried that we might get yelled at, I just knew
that we’d never be able to forgive ourselves.

"What
do you two want?" the sheriff asked as we walked into his cluttered
office.  "Did you turn something up in Wally Bain’s murder
case?"

"We
don’t have any actual facts, Sheriff, but we do have a pretty good idea
about how to flush the killer out," Moose said.

"That’s
too bad.  I was hoping for something that was a little more solid than
that.  Unless you have something I can take to the district attorney, you
two are just wasting my time, and I don’t have all that much to spare
right now."

"Sheriff,
unless you’ve got a better idea waiting in the wings, you might want to
at least listen to what we have to say before you lash out at us. 
We’re just trying to help."  I wasn’t sure how he would
react to my chiding, but honestly, I had a hunch we were about to be thrown out
anyway, so what did it matter?

Sheriff
Croft took a deep breath, and I saw some of his frustration slip away. 
"Go on.  You’ve got one minute to pitch your idea."

"First
things first.  We have our own individual suspicions about the suspects on
our list, but there’s nothing we can prove against any of them.  Are
you doing any better?"

"I’ll
reserve commenting until I hear what you’ve got to say first," he
said.

I
started ticking off the names of our suspects on my fingers.  "The
first name on our list from the start has always been Ron Watkins, but unless
that tool box falling really was an accident, we’re taking his name
off."

"If
it helps, at this point we don’t believe that the incident was
intentional," the sheriff said.

"That’s
all well and good, but even if he’s still viable in your mind, this
won’t work for him."

"Go
on," the sheriff said.  "You’ve got thirty seconds
left."

"We’re
going to need more time than that," I said.

"You’ve
got what you need, but make it dance."

I
decided to increase my pace.  "Next up, there’s Penny
Rusk.  She and Wally had a bad breakup, no matter how much she’s
claiming that’s not true now.  Dave Evans had a fight with Wally
about the bad produce he was providing him for the grocery store, and Dave took
it much more personally than we did.  It’s true that it appears that
Jan Bain didn’t show up here until after the murder, but we can’t
prove that one way or the other."

"Is
there anybody else on your list?" the sheriff asked.  At first I
thought he’d been doodling on his desk pad, but then I saw that
he’d written down the names I’d given him, along with his own brief
descriptions of our motives. 

At
least that proved that he was listening.

"Sally
Ketchum admitted to arguing with Wally all the time, and she’s interested
in buying his farm now that he’s gone.  Maybe she got tired of
hearing him say no to her offers over the years, and she decided that Jan might
be easier to work with."

"That’s
kind of out there," the sheriff said.  "Anybody else?"

"No,
sir," Moose said.  "That’s all we’ve been able to
come up with."

"You’ve
left a few names off your list," the sheriff said as he tapped his notes
with his pencil.

I
tried not to react to his comment.  "Can you share any other people
in particular?  If you’re implying that anyone in my family killed
him, you’re dead wrong, I can tell you that right now."

"What
about Abel Link?" the sheriff asked.

"Why
would Abel kill Wally Bain?" Moose asked.

"Who
knows?  The man’s as crazy as a bedbug.  Maybe he didn’t
like Wally using pesticides on his place.  For that matter, why would he
burn the place down?"

"We
don’t know that he did," I said, feeling bad for naming Abel as a
possible arsonist earlier.  "By the way, did you ever find
him?"

"Of
course we didn’t," the sheriff said.  "He’s
probably got a dozen places prepped to hide in those woods.  We tried to
get some dogs from Raleigh to track his scent, but they’re busy on
another case right now."

"I’m
not even sure
they’ll
be able to help," Moose said. 
"The man really knows his survival skills."

"Too
well, if you ask me," the sheriff said.

"Is
there anyone left on your list?" I asked, honestly curious at that point.

"No,
that’s it," the sheriff said as he pushed away from his desk. 
"You know, you two did a surprisingly thorough job."

"I’m
guessing, based on what you’ve been saying, that you haven’t been
able to eliminate any of them, either.  Is that correct?" Moose
asked him.

The
sheriff thought about my grandfather’s question for a full ten seconds,
and then he answered, "What I’m about to tell you doesn’t
leave this room, do you both understand that?"

Moose
and I both promised, and then the sheriff said, "As a matter of fact, at
this point in my investigation, I don’t have a clue who killed Wally
Bain.  For all I could prove at this point, he fell on that pitchfork and
killed himself."

"What
if there was a way to smoke out the killer?" I asked.  "Would
you be interested?"

The
sheriff put his hands behind his head.  "That depends on what you
have in mind."

"We
want to lay a trap for the murderer, but we can’t do it without your
help," I explained.

Was
that a hint of interest in his eyes?  "Go on.  I’m still
listening."

"Here’s
what we’re thinking.  First, we have to get the hospital to
cooperate.  We need them to tell anyone who calls that Ron is out of his
coma, and that things are starting to come back to him about what happened
earlier."

"Which
event are we talking about, the murder or the accident with the toolbox?"

"We’ll
leave that part open to interpretation," I suggested.

The
sheriff frowned.  "The problem is that I just spoke to the hospital,
and Ron’s still in a coma.  What’s to keep someone else from
finding out as easily as I just did?"

"This
is going to be a brand new development.  Once we get things in place,
here’s what we need to do," Moose explained.  "We have
them reserve a room for us that’s empty, and then we tell each of our
suspects our story, including where they’ve moved Ron to.  After
that, we go to the hospital and see what happens."

"That
plan is against so many rules and regulations that I can’t even count them
all," the sheriff said.  "Besides, it’s never going to
work."

"Why
not?" Moose asked him.

"We
can’t contact Abel Link, since we don’t know where he’s
hiding.  What makes you think we’ll have any luck tracking the
others down?"

"Leave
it to us," I said.  "Moose and I can handle that part of the
plan.  As a matter of fact, we
have
to be the ones who tell
them."

"Why
is that?" the sheriff asked.

"They
all know that we’ve been nosing into this all along.  If the
information comes from us, they won’t suspect that it’s a
trap.  You’ve got to stay away from all of them, at least until we
have a chance to set up the trap first."

"I
don’t know," the sheriff said slowly.

"There’s
something important that you need to remember, Sheriff.  You’re
going to be losing suspects, starting tomorrow," I said. 
"What makes you think that catching one of them is going to be any easier
once they leave town?"

"I
could always find a way to make them stay," Sheriff Croft said.

"It’s
doubtful, at least not legally.  We’re just asking you to bend a few
rules, not break any.  We know that it’s a long shot, but
isn’t it at least worth a shot?  You can have a deputy in the bed
waiting for the attack, and we can stop it well before it even starts."

"No,
that’s still too risky.  We’ll use a CPR dummy.  Those
things can look freakishly real if we stage it right."

"So,
you’re on board?" Moose asked him.

"Let
me make a quick call.  You two can wait outside."

I
ushered Moose out, and we waited impatiently for the sheriff to call whoever he
was going to check in with.  Two minutes later his office door opened, and
he motioned for us both to come back in.

"Here’s
the deal.  I just spoke with my connection at the hospital, and I’ve
gotten them to agree, based on certain conditions.  We’re going to
pretend that Ron is in an area that’s currently closed for painting, so
no patients should be at risk."

"How
are we going to sell that?" I asked.

"I
don’t care how you do it, but it’s a deal-breaker.  Tell your
suspects that he was moved for his own safety.  They’ll probably buy
that."