Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 10 (16 page)

Earl took a drink of whiskey and wiped his mouth with his hand. “I wish to hell we hadn’t showed up in the first place. Eileen ain’t gonna like it, especially when she finds out Kevin was here, too.”

“Millicent’s gonna be hotter than a peppermill that I didn’t get the truck back so her and Darla Jean could go shoppin’ in Farberville,” Jeremiah said. “I’ll hear about this till Christmas.”

“I’ll hear about it till Easter.”

“Well, I’ll hear about it till the Fourth of July.”

I left them to discuss the impending repercussions and went across the gully. Les was leaning against a tree at the campsite, which consisted of four small tents, several coolers and cartons, and the smoldering remains of a campfire. “You made it, huh?” he said.

“It looks like it. What’s going on?”

He gave me an abbreviated version of the scenario as we walked uphill. “What I don’t understand,” he added, “is why a bunch of grown men want to play ‘Rambo on the Ridge’ when it’s the middle of deer season. A couple of years back a woman was shot in her own backyard. She thought she was safe on account of posting her land, but she didn’t realize how far a bullet travels. That’s likely to be what happened here. Somewhere on the ridge is a guy that’s cussing up a storm ‘cause he missed a buck. He’ll never know what he really hit.”

I was too busy battling the brush to respond. Five minutes later we came into an open area. Harve was puffing on a cigar butt as he watched the paramedics zip up a black body bag. At his feet were strange-looking pistols, each with a tag. Standing in a group were Pitts, Kayleen, the guy who’d introduced himself the previous evening at Ruby Bee’s, and two guys I’d never seen before. All of them wore olive drab and boots, although Kayleen still looked quite stylish. Kevin was sitting on a stump, his bony shoulders hunched, his face puckered, and his Adam’s apple rippling as if he were trying to swallow a ping pong ball.

“Hey, Harve,” I said as I joined him. “Les told me what happened. Are you really satisfied it was an accident?”

“I reckon so. Les and I checked these morons’ pistols, and the only thing they can fire are paint pellets. We’ll have ballistics check ‘em out just to be sure.”

The paramedics picked up the stretcher. “We’re out of here,” one of them said. “You shouldn’t hang around, either. It’s not the safest place I’ve been lately.”

Harve waited until the paramedics reached the line of trees. “Okay, everybody down to pasture. We’ve got some talking to do before you pack your gear and get the hell out of here. Those of you who live elsewhere had better not come back, either.”

Sterling harrumped like an ancient bullfrog. “The First Amendment guarantees the right of the people to assemble peaceably. That is precisely what we were doing, and will do so again if we so choose. You are a public servant.”

“Don’t expect me to wash your windows,” Harve said, then stomped on the cigar butt and took off down the hill. Everybody else followed him, except for Kevin, who was surreptitiously wiping his eyes.

“Come on,” I said to him. “Like the guy said, this is not the safest place.”

“This is all my fault. It was my first mission, and I failed. Dylan told me how we was supposed to watch out for each other. He said that’s what they do in a platoon, and we shook hands on it. He even said I was gonna make a real fine WASP.”

“As in White Anglo-Saxon Protestant?” I said, confused as usual when trying to follow Kevin’s thought process. “That’s what you already are.”

“No, it stands for White Aryan Superior … something or other. Patriot, mebbe. I’d start out as a private, but Dylan said I’d be promoted in no time.”

I grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “You can tell me what happened while we walk. Dylan had participated in this kind of thing before, right?”

“Yeah, and he was in a real battle, too. He dint look old enough to have been in Desert Storm. Have there been any wars since then?”

“There’ve been some military interventions,” I said as I ducked under a branch. “Did you see anything at the moment the rifle was fired?”

“Not so’s I recollect.”

“What exactly do you recollect?”

Kevin stopped and sucked on his lip. “When we first got there, Dylan told me to watch down the hill. If I saw anybody, I was ‘sposed to give him a hand signal. He dint say what kind of signal, but I figured I’d kinda wave like this.” He flopped his wrist a couple of times. “But I dint see anybody. Then all of a sudden Dylan said he heard something up over us, so he came out and tried to see what it was. That’s when he got shot.”

“But you never saw anything in the woods?” I asked, shoving him back into motion.

“I saw a li’l squirrel in a tree.”

I struggled not to sigh, but I was asking too much of myself. “What’s that splotch on your jacket, Kevin?”

“Aw, one of the guys got me with a paint pellet. I told him I dint think it was fair the way he did it, but he just grinned like a mule with a mouthful of thistles.”

“Isn’t that the point of this nonsense?”

“Real soldiers aren’t so dadburned sneaky,” he said sullenly.

Rather than examine the goals of guerrilla warfare, I told him to follow me. We went through the campsite and crossed the gully. As I came up to the pasture, a raindrop nailed me on the back of my neck.

“I do not understand why we need to give statements,” Sterling was saying to Harve. Their faces were equally mottled, and their noses were inches apart.

Having seen similar behavior in schoolyards, I hurried over to them and said, “Calm down, boys. Harve, why don’t you use the PD? It’ll be crowded, but noticeably warmer and drier.”

“You have no more right to detain us,” said Sterling, “than you do to confiscate our weapons. Aren’t you up for reelection soon, Sheriff? If your flagrant disregard for individual rights is made public, you’d best start interviewing for jobs in the private sector. I am a member of the Rotary and Kiwanis clubs, a church deacon, and the vice-president of the county insurance agents’ association. Furthermore, I am on a first-name basis with the lieutenant governor-“

“Shuddup,” Harve snarled, then looked at me. “Actually, I got a small problem. The county prosecutor’s holding a press conference about the burglaries, and he wants me there to field questions. It starts in an hour. Since this was an accident and the statements are nothing more than a formality, I was hoping you’d handle them. Les’ll hang around in case you need help. I know I’ve been asking a lot of favors from you, Arly, and I’ll make it up to you after the election.”

“How are you planning to do that, Harve? Get me my own team of bloodhounds?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Tell ya what-the next time we have to extradite somebody in New Orleans, I’ll assign it to you. If you go a few days early, we can cover expenses and it’ll be between the two of us.”

“Squandering the taxpayers’ money?” inserted Sterling with the same supercilious smile I was beginning to know too well.

Kayleen put her hand on his arm. “Honey, you’re making things worse. Why don’t we go sit in the Hummer?”

I grimaced at Harve. “It shouldn’t take long, so I’ll do it. As for New Orleans, I’d rather have those bloodhounds.”

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Ruby Bee used her passkey to let herself into General Pitts’s unit. She hung fresh towels in the bathroom, gathered up the damp ones, and went back into the room. Despite the clutter of electronic equipment, everything was tidy and the bed made with surgical precision. She eyed the computer with all its cables, wondering if her electric bill was gonna be sky-high, then ran a feather duster over everything and locked the door behind her.

Estelle opened her door. “Snooping?”

“I’m cleaning the units same as I always do,” Ruby Bee said as she headed for Kayleen’s unit.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Estelle said, trotting after her. “Lemme carry those towels.”

“I’ve been doing this by myself for thirty years, and I can manage just fine.”

She unlocked the door of #3 and, with Estelle on her heels, went inside. She already knew Kayleen wasn’t real orderly, so she wasn’t surprised that the bed wasn’t made and several articles of clothing were draped over the back of a chair. A small saucepan rested on the hot plate; Kayleen had asked permission, and since she was gonna be there for months, it seemed reasonable. “You can make the bed,” she said to Estelle, then went on into the bathroom to exchange towels and clean the tub.

“Kayleen sure does look pretty in this photograph,” said Estelle. “This must be her and her husband on their honeymoon at some fancy island resort. I didn’t realize he was so much older than her. He reminds me of my grandpappy, who was ninety-seven when he passed away.”

“Now who’s snooping?” called Ruby Bee as she, wiped out the sink.

“I was only making an observation. It’s none of’ my business who she marries. I couldn’t care less if she marries Raz Buchanon, although I can’t see her sitting beside Marjorie on the sofa.”

Ruby Bee came out of the bathroom, mutely made the bed, and went out the door.

Estelle caught up with her as she knocked on Judy Milliford’s door. “Isn’t she up on the ridge with everybody else?”

“No, I saw her come walking back here less than an hour ago. I invited her to have some coffee in the bar, but she said she needed to take a hot shower and get into some dry clothes. She doesn’t sound as gung ho as-” She stopped as the door opened. “I brought you some clean towels.”

Judy was dressed in a robe and her face was flushed. “Thanks, Ruby Bee,” she said with a small smile. “I was going to take you up on that coffee, but I’m afraid I may have caught a cold. I think I’ll just curl up in bed and watch television until I have to go back to the camp and fix supper.”

“I thought they were going to live off the land,” Ruby Bee said.

Judy’s smile faded. “Jake says that’s malarkey, that when we take to the mountains, we’ll have plenty of supplies with us. If we run low, he can break into the enemy’s supply depot and get more. We’ll always have fresh fish and game, too.”

“That must be a comforting thought,” murmured Ruby Bee, “if you have cornmeal, anyway. You go lie down and have a nice nap, Judy. If I can bring you something from the bar, give me a call.”

“Thanks,” Judy said as she closed the door.

They were walking toward the back door of the bar when Mrs. Jim Bob came into the parking lot in her pink Cadillac. She drove right past them and pulled in beside the brown Mercedes, leapt out of the car, and began pounding on the door of #3.

“I know you’re in there!” she shrieked. “I demand to know what you did with him, you wicked, wicked hussy! Don’t think you can cower in there until I go away. I’m going to stay right here till you open this door!”

Estelle arched her carefully drawn eyebrows. “Think we should tell her that Kayleen’s not there?”

“After what she said to me the other day?” replied Ruby Bee. She watched Mrs. Jim Bob’s fist going up and down like a jackhammer for a moment, then went through the back door.

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Once we all arrived at the PD, I realized there was no way to cram that many bodies in the back room. Counting myself, we were one shy of a football team-and the preponderance of olive drab made the situation feel even more claustrophobic.

“You two,” I said, pointing at Sterling and Kayleen, “can go over to your units at the Flamingo and I’ll take your statements there. Jeremiah and Earl, you all go on home and wait for me. Don’t tell anybody what happened on the ridge. The last thing I need is a gaggle of sightseers getting themselves shot.”

“What about me?” squeaked Kevin.

“You go home, too,” I said, already dreading the necessity of taking his statement, even though he was the closest thing we had to an eyewitness. As they left, I heard Earl bawling out Kevin for missing work and Sterling sputtering at Kayleen about his constitutional rights. Now we were down to the size of a basketball team, and the room felt larger (although not the size of a regulation court).

“I reckon I’ll go over to the motel,” said one of the men I didn’t recognize. “My wife’s staying there.”

When I merely looked at him, he added through clenched teeth, “I’m Jake Milliford from Emmett. I didn’t see nothing, so you’re wasting your time if you think I got anything to say to you.”

I could tell from his surly tone that he wasn’t accustomed to taking orders from a female. It was tempting to make him squirm, but I flicked a finger at the door. “Stay in her room until I get around to you.”

“I’ll stay where I damn well please.” I looked at Les. “Would you escort Mr. Milliford to the Flamingo, then remain in the parking lot and keep an eye on all of them? I should be there in an hour or so.”

Les escorted his charge out the door, leaving only three of us. Barry smiled at me and said, “Any chance for coffee?”

“If you make it,” I said, then sat down behind my desk and pulled out a legal pad. “Name?” I asked the other unfamiliar man.

He didn’t look any happier than Jake Milliford, but he sat down and said, “Reed Rondly.”

“Rank?” I asked brightly. “Serial number? This is supposed to be a military outfit, isn’t it? Or are you all just a bunch of bumbling idiots who like to act out your anal-retentive impulses in the woods?”

Reed licked his lips. “What’s your problem, honey? You having your period?”

“Cool it,” Barry called from the back room. “Just tell her what you know so we can leave, okay?”

“Okay,” he muttered, glaring at me. “We all got here yesterday evening at different times. Dylan rode with me, and Sterling and Jake were at the campsite when we got there at maybe five. Barry showed up later. This morning Sterling, Kayleen, and Judy came just before sunrise, and later on, the three local fellows. Sterling told Dylan to take the kid and pick a position on the bluff. We waited fifteen minutes, then split up so we could come at ‘em from different directions. I was trying to figure out what to do about that clear patch when the kid came stumbling by. He told me what happened happened and I fired a flare to bring everybody. By the time I got to Dylan, Kayleen was giving him mouth-to-mouth, but he died anyway. That’s about it.”