Half Past Mourning (35 page)

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Authors: Fleeta Cunningham

Tags: #romance,vintage

BOOK: Half Past Mourning
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“He’s what! You sure, Nina?”

Nina felt as if the darkness was closing over her head. She drew a shallow breath. “Sheriff, get out here, will you? I’m sure. He just tried to kill my uncle and Peter Shayne and me. Bring the ambulance. Uncle Eldon isn’t in good shape.”

“Coming!” The phone slammed in Nina’s ear. The receiver slipped from her grasp unnoticed. She’d done all she could. By inches, she crept around the desk and found a chair. The room spun as she sank down, and she was suddenly cold, so cold she was shaking like dried leaves in a high wind. Teeth chattering, half sick, she drew her feet into her chair and huddled in the darkness.

“Nina, Nina!”

She opened her eyes, eyes so heavy she had to force them open. “Peter?” Her fuzzy mind couldn’t hold a thought. She held out her bruised hands and he took them.

“It’s all right, Nina. I’m here, and Eldon will be all right. I got him back to his room just as we heard the sirens, and then the ambulance arrived. Looks like the sheriff wasted no time. Three cars with flashing lights are out on the parking lot, and I think Ron Reeves has just run out of luck.”

Chapter 21

Peter’s assessment of the situation proved correct. The sheriff and his deputies had cornered Reeves in the paint shop as he prepared to drive off in the stolen Corvette. At first he had refused to talk to anyone, other than insisting that the car belonged to a private customer and he was simply doing a little outside work for the owner. If it was a stolen vehicle, he didn’t know it, and he wasn’t involved in the theft, he protested.

The sheriff had been as good as his word and sent the ambulance ahead. When Reeves saw the flashing lights, the ambulance, and people with a covered stretcher emerging from the workshop behind the museum, he stopped talking.

At that point, Tinker returned from an evening in town with his pretty sweetheart. He glanced around, saw the ambulance, and ran for Eldon Lassiter’s office. Peter explained the situation and, before Nina could summon the strength to object, convinced Tinker to get her home and out of the confusion to come.

“You can talk to the sheriff tomorrow, darling, but you’ve had enough for one day.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been here,” Tinker insisted, contrition in every syllable. “I can’t make up for that, but at least let me get you away from here, Nina, so I can feel like I’ve made up for some of the trouble.”

“But Uncle Eldon…”

“Your uncle is going to be okay,” Peter assured her. “He was more worried about you and the Princess than himself. Hearing that we got the Rambler was the best medicine he could have. The ambulance team is with him now, and he’s getting the medical attention he needs. They want to keep him in the hospital overnight, just to be sure. You can go home and get some rest. I’ll stay here and take care of things.”

“I want to know about Ron, what he did,” she protested.

“They have him, Nina. That’s the main thing. We’ll hear all the rest when the sheriff has it, I’m sure. Let Tinker take you home now.”

Frustrated but too weary to argue, Nina agreed. Her pretty flapper dress was in rags, she was barefoot, and her face and wrists were bruised, but her uncle was safe, Peter was taking care of things, and soon she’d have all the answers. She could rest.

Nina heard the details the next morning when the sheriff came to tell her how things stood. “I don’t know, Nina,” the sheriff began. “We can tie him to the Corvette, but I don’t know that we can get him for any of the other stolen cars. There’s nothing to show that any of them were ever in that paint shop of his. I know, as well as I know anything, he took them, he repainted some of them, and he sold them. But as for proving it, that’s another matter. The law doesn’t work on what I know in my heart. It operates on what I can prove.”

Nina, recovering from the aftereffects of shock, fought back the waves of frustration to concentrate on the sheriff’s words. “But he tried to kill three people; we can prove that, can’t we?”

“We can. That’s why he’s willing to make a trade. Says he knows we can’t prove anything much on the car thefts but he’ll tell about it and the people involved, tell all of it, if we don’t press for attempted murder. It’s up to you and Shayne and Lassiter to decide, Nina, whether you’re willing to forego putting him away for what he did to you in order to clear up all the other stuff and get the people involved.”

Nina was silent, then asked, “What do Peter and Uncle Eldon say?”

“Talked to your uncle in the hospital. Fool doctors want to keep him another night, but young Tinker says he’ll be home for dinner. Your uncle’s pawing the walls to see that trophy. Lassiter left it up to you, hon. Said you were the one that got everyone out, ran the risk of falling from that pipe to get all of you loose, so you decide. Shayne, now, he thinks hangin’s too good for the skunk, but he’ll go with your decision, too. ’Course, he still wants answers.”

“I want answers, too, Sheriff. A lot of them. So I’ll agree to let Ron Reeves off the hook for what he did to us providing he owns up to everything else he’s done, tells all he knows. Every single thing.”

“You sure? He’d get more time in jail for what he did to you than for boosting cars. Especially if he’s confessing. We won’t hear all of that story, I’m bound, unless he talks more’n is good for him.” The sheriff’s narrowed eyes implied doubt.

“I know it,” Nina said in a flat tone. “He said something in the shop when he attacked me that I want him to explain. He may think I didn’t hear or I forgot, but I know. If Ron is going to tell the whole story to get out of the attempted murder charge, then that’s the only thing that will make him tell me.”

“What did he say, young lady? Is he involved in something more than stealing cars?”

“I don’t know the details, Sheriff, but when Ron grabbed me in the shop, he said something about how he’d have to improvise since Peter and I came back earlier than he expected. Then he said he’d done it before…and then he mentioned Danny. I think he knows what happened to Danny.”

“Don’t seem likely, but I’ll let you put the question to him.”

It took the sheriff three days to put things in place, but on the fourth morning Nina, Peter, and the sheriff gathered in an anteroom at the courthouse. Nina suggested Marigold be on hand but not in sight, in case information came to light that would ease the older woman’s pain. The sheriff was reluctant to put up with Marigold’s dramatics but finally agreed.

Ron looked older, worn, and a little resigned, as he took the chair the sheriff indicated. “Reeves, you’ve had time to think it through. S’pose you explain how you came to have that Corvette in your possession.” He dropped a stack of papers on the table. “And while you’re at it, tell us how many of these other cars you escorted away from their owners. Give us the names of everybody that helped you along the way. I don’t believe you thought this up and carried it out by yourself.”

“There never was but one other person involved in the business, Sheriff. Just the two of us.” Reeves glanced around until his eyes met Nina’s. “Yeah, I guess it’s about time you know what kind of guy you married. You should have agreed to marry me, you know. Once you came into all that money…” He shrugged but didn’t finish the thought. Drawing a long breath, he stretched his legs before him, laced his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. “Your Danny was a rat, a foursquare, back-stabbing rat. Taking the cars, the fast, fancy sports cars, that was his plan from first to last.”

Nina wanted to protest. The sheriff half rose in his chair. Neither of them could respond before Marigold Wilson stormed the room.

“Danny stole cars?” Marigold’s voice cracked with fury. “That’s a lie! Why would he? He had more money than he could ever spend. He could buy any car he wanted.”

Reeves snorted. “Wasn’t for the money, lady. It was a lark, just for the fun. It was the risk that got Danny going. I was grousing about never having the money to buy one of those babies, or to get the women that a hot car draws, and Danny wondered how hard it would be to pry some of those cars loose from their owners. Not all that hard, I told him. Just a little caution, a good dark night, somebody who could rig the ignition, and you’re in business. No problem to get them, I told him, but the question is what do you do with them once you have ’em. Danny laughed fit to die, like I’d come up with the world’s greatest joke, and said there were a dozen guys who’d plunk down money for one of those cars—not dealer price, but still a healthy bunch of change—if they could put hands on one, with a passable fake title and no questions asked. So we worked it out. Danny would listen around at the various shows and car events. When he located a likely buyer and found out what the guy wanted, Danny would keep his eyes open for somebody who had one. Made himself a regular customer list that he carried around, just like a good businessman. Kept watch on who wanted what. Said we’d have to be careful to take the car from one place and make sure we didn’t sell it back too close to where we got it. So Danny went to the meets, found the customers, spotted the cars, and I grabbed them.”

“Where’d you sell them?” The sheriff interrupted. “Not around here, by gum. I’d have noticed.”

“Yeah, sure you would, Sheriff.” Reeves’s tone held a ton of derision. “You can’t tell a Porsche from a Jaguar, and everybody knows it. But the owners might have tumbled to it. We mostly sold the cars out of state. We’d stick the cars in the back of the paint shop till we made the deal. There’s always some antique or jalopy waiting out there, tarps over them, and nobody paid much attention to one more. I had a customer or two, and if the boys noticed anything, they’d just figure I was doing a private job. Once we had things ready, then I’d tell ever’body I was going to see my folks for a few days. Late at night, I’d ease out of the shop and make tracks for wherever we’d found a sucker. You know sports car fans go all over for some of these events. Danny made it a point to get to know the outsiders, sound ’em out about what they wanted, and when we spotted one, the buyer would get an anonymous call. Deal made for cash, car delivered to some neutral point. I’d rig a title good enough to get by, and everybody was happy. Even the guy we stole from didn’t come off too bad—he got a check from the insurance company, didn’t he?”

“I can’t believe Danny was part of that kind of operation,” Nina insisted.

“Can’t or don’t want to,” Reeves taunted. “Danny didn’t take the money. He didn’t need it, didn’t care about it. It was just the fun of setting up the deal that hooked him.” He shot Nina a sidelong glance. “And you might have caught on somewhere along the way, you know. Danny figured that, so he started taking other gals, dumber ones, to the meets. He wasn’t going to let a girlfriend with brains mess up his hobby.”

The sheriff leaned across the table, folded his arms, and maintained a poker face. “So you know what happened to Danny Wilson? Is that it? You know what he did. Sounds to me like you know what happened to him.”

The chair Reeves sat in creaked as he shifted his weight. “Danny’s dead.” No expression colored his voice. “Been dead since an hour or so after he left the church.” He waved back the words that came from all directions. “No, hell no, I didn’t kill him. Or if I did, I didn’t know it. It went down like this.” Reeves reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped one free and lit it. “Danny had plans,” he went on, with a glance at Marigold. “He wanted to be loose of Mama’s apron strings, live like a man, not a nine-year-old kid, reporting in, going where the old lady wanted to go. Wanted to drink a beer, stay out all night if he felt like it. He knew that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in Santa Rita, so he made some elaborate plans to skip out. Even went so far as to dream up that wedding, Nina, but he never intended to go through with it. Something happened, something really dumb—he fell in love with his own bride. And that gummed up the works all around. He had figured there’d be hell to pay when folks found he was gone, so he was gonna let me take the T-Bird and give me that customer list so I could stay in business. His plan for that night before the wedding was to tell Paula he was coming to see her, tell you, Nina, that he had to get home, and tell the dragon lady that he’d be with Nina canceling the wedding. I’d pick him up outside Paula’s place, and we’d head for the big city. He planned to get a wad of cash and take off for parts unknown, getting a new name and a new life along the way. I’d take the car and the list. He’d get away from here. The car and the business were my payment, my stake to the good life.”

“And Danny changed his mind somewhere along the way,” Peter suggested.

“Changed his mind, ditched the plan, and said he was keeping the girl, the business, and the car.” Reeves dropped the cigarette to the floor and, with a glare of fury in his eyes, ground out the ember. “He didn’t show up at Paula’s place. That was my first hint that Danny had turned on me. I got there and waited, waited till I was afraid people were noticing me, and finally left. Made the tour of all his haunts and finally cruised by Nina’s place. Five o’clock in the morning and I was at the end of my patience. Pulled up on Jasmine Street, a last resort, you might say, and there was the T-Bird, pretty as you please. I sat there trying to figure out what was going on when the door opens and out comes our Danny, bright as Mary Sunshine. I caught up with him and said, ‘What’s up?’ He grins, kinda goofy-like, and says the plan’s off, he’s staying, getting hitched, and he’ll be taking Nina to Dallas for the week. Business as usual when he gets back. I say I need the car, I’ve got it sold, at least give me that, but he says nothing doin’, see him after the wedding.”

“And then?” the sheriff prompted.

“And then I got to thinking how Danny Wilson did just what Danny wanted, never mind what it might do to anybody else. Got fuming, got madder by the minute, and...well, it took a while, but I found where he’d put the car. I was taking the car when Danny came for it. I tried to laugh it off, make a joke, but he got mad about me taking the car. Ragged at me about selling somebody a car I didn’t have, and how that customer list would’ve kept me going for years if I had it, only he wasn’t giving it to me. Taunting me, he was. Kept on till I just had enough of his ragging and took a swing at him. Hit him. I guess it was pretty hard, ’cause he went down like a bag of sand. I didn’t know what to do. It looked like he wasn’t breathin’ too good. He’d had his keys in his hand, dropped them when he fell, and I grabbed them. Found the list in the car pocket like he’d planned to give it to me all along. At first I thought I’d just take the car and the list. I had the title in my pocket from when we got together in Dallas, so I was set. I’d just leave Danny behind and head out. Then it hit me that if he came to, my good buddy Danny would have the sheriff after me and the car in nothing flat. He could make it sound like I’d been alone on stealing those cars. I couldn’t tear up the list. Couldn’t keep it. I’d lose all around, and probably go to jail. So I popped the trunk, dumped out all those pink suitcases, and rolled old Danny in. Figured I’d take him out of town and, if he didn’t come to pretty quick, maybe leave him where somebody would find him and take care of him. I could be long gone before that happened.”

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