Merry Wives of Maggody (24 page)

“Yep. I was just now sitting here, trying to recollect when I last raised your rent. Been a good while.”

“It’s been a while since I read up on the statutes about gambling. It’s illegal in Arkansas. Running a gambling house is a felony, and the sentence can run up to three years.” I paused. “You really gonna raise my rent, Roy?”

“I ain’t decided as of yet. The booze was running low, and when Jim Bob showed up and told everybody about the boat being impounded, that was it. Some of them went to get something to eat. Earl’s asleep on my sofa, snoring like a tuba. I came out here to get away from it. I don’t know how Eileen puts up with that racket, night after night.”

“I can hear you from upstairs,” I said. “At your finest, you sound like a dump truck bouncing down a cliff.”

He harrumphed under his breath. “You ain’t so quiet yourself when that fellow spends the night in your apartment.”

It was time to change the subject. “Tell me about last night.”

“The menfolk went to Ruby Bee’s to cry in their beers. There wasn’t any shortage of that, what with Tommy buying pitchers and keeping everybody’s glass filled.” He picked up a jelly jar of iced tea and took a drink. “after Ruby Bee announced last call, I came on back here. Tam was passed out where you’re sitting, and Rip was in the bathtub. I fixed myself a sandwich and a glass of milk.”

“You didn’t hear any ruckus in front of the bar?” I asked.

“I had the radio on in the kitchen. When I looked out the window, all I saw was Tommy and his friends from Farberville. They were in the middle of the highway, jabbering. When I took a blanket out to throw on Tam, I saw Tommy weaving down the center line toward the SuperSaver.” Roy rocked back and forth for a moment, then added, “There might have been somebody behind the Flamingo sign. I thought it was just a branch moving in the breeze.”

I peered at the sign. Next to it was a large bush that Ruby Bee insisted was an azalea. She knew this to be true because she paid $9.79 for it at a nursery several years ago. I’d long since given up pointing out that it had never bloomed.

“You seen Brother Verber lately?” I asked, thinking of the most likely suspect to lurk behind a bush. He’d been caught peeping through a window once, and accused of it several times a year.

“Yesterday evening, when he said grace before supper. He carried on so long the brisket was stone cold. You don’t think he has anything to do with this, do you?”

“No, of course not. He might have seen something, though. I guess I’d better hunt him up sooner or later.” I envisioned myself listening to one of his interminable diatribes about my wicked ways. “Later would be better.”

“Like in a month?” Roy said, amused at my expression.

“More like in a year.” I gazed at the puddles alongside the road while I thought. There was one screeching discrepancy in the versions I’d heard of the Saturday night festivities. “What do you make of Kale Wasson?”

“He’s a pain in the ass, like most boys his age. He slobbers over Natalie Hotz, but she’s so far out of his league that he’d need a passport to get within a mile of her. The boy’s also a sore loser, from what I heard. The women he played with said he was snide and nasty, laughing at ’em when they made a bad shot.”

“His mother would disagree with that.”

“Kathleen reminds me of a sickly mole I found in my tomato bed. I had to put the poor critter out of its misery, but I felt like shit afterwards. Moles are blind, in case you’ve forgotten. The only thing Kathleen can make out is the halo above Kale’s head. He was so rude to her this morning that I was ready to slap him upside the head. At supper he was giving her hell because she hadn’t packed his lucky blue shirt, so it was going to be her fault if he lost today.”

“Well, he didn’t lose today,” I said. “There’s always tomorrow, I suppose.”

“Gonna be interesting,” Roy drawled. He tipped his hat down to cover his face and entwined his fingers over his belly. “Mighty interesting…”

I left him snuffling contentedly and returned to the PD. I called Harve and, when he answered, said, “What about Tommy Ridner’s wallet?”

“I’m fine, thank you. How about yourself?”

“This is important, Harve. Unless you want to skip the rest of the ball game and come out here, answer the question.”

“The wallet was in the boat, down by where his feet were. There were bloody smudges on it, but no usable prints. Half-dozen credit cards, along with about two hundred bucks. It’s the bottom of the eighth, with the bases loaded and one out. Can you make do without the details until tomorrow?”

I promised to try, then hung up. Robbery was not the motive, which ruled out the local miscreants and random hitchhikers.

The golf tournament was the catalyst. I was considering my next victim for interrogation when Janna came into the PD. I willed myself not to groan.

“I want to thank you for finding Natalie,” she said.

“Just doing my job.” And wishing she would go away.

“She told me what really happened on Friday night. I should have suspected as much. The only thing that would keep her out of trouble is an ankle bracelet.”

I didn’t mention that Natalie was more worried about a microchip implant. “Well, she’s back and safe for the time being,” I said.

To my dismay, she sat down. “I wish I believed it. I see the way men leer at her. Tommy Ridner was one of the worst. Twice her age, loudmouthed and fat. He’s been after her for two years. When she won the state championship, he sent her flowers. He was whispering with her after the practice round, and I was afraid they were making plans to meet later.”

“Were they?”

“She says not. I was determined to stay by her side that night until we were both in bed, but I could barely keep my eyes open. It must have been the combination of a couple of beers and the antihistamine. It happened again last night, even though I was drinking club soda.”

“Do you think Natalie and Tommy found a way to have some private time last night?” I asked cautiously.

“Oh, I think he had other plans last night,” Janna said with a smug smile. “A couple of weeks ago at the country club bar, I overheard an interesting exchange.”

I was appalled when Janna described the conversation involving Tommy, Dennis, and Amanda. “Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand them? The room was loud, and you were at another table. It could have been a joke.”

“It wasn’t a joke. Amanda was furious, and when she’s furious, she makes sure everybody knows it. after she stormed out the door, Tommy and Dennis kept on talking about it. I couldn’t hear much of anything, but I did see Tommy call over the waitress and have her sign her name on a napkin. He gave her a twenty, so I assumed she was acting as a witness.”

“Dennis dotes on his wife. Why on earth would he agree that she’d have sex with Tommy in any case? The idea is”—I grappled for a word—“
medieval
. Disgusting, too.”

“Men’s brains aren’t located between their ears.”

She had a point. “I’d better talk to the Gilberts and clear this up,” I said.

After she left, I rocked back to think. If Janna was telling the truth, then Amanda and Dennis had a motive, individually or as a couple. The fact that Roy had seen Tommy walking alone toward the SuperSaver didn’t mean that he couldn’t have been followed minutes later. On the other hand, Janna had been eager to tell me about the bet that conveniently produced the motive. Janna had been unaware of Natalie’s whereabouts. Natalie had no alibi—but neither did Janna.

I was halfway to the door when the phone rang. I debated for a moment, then went to my desk. “PD,” I said.

“Oh my God, Arly! You got to get here fast! Somebody’s gonna get killed!”

Eleven

I
recognized Eileen’s voice. “Killed? What’s going on?”

“It’s an emergency! Please, you got to stop this!”

I drove to her house and parked. Eileen came running out the front door, her hands flapping. “If she doesn’t kill him, he’s gonna kill her!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the porch. “Be careful, Arly,” she added as she shoved me inside the house.

I crept down the hall and peered into the living room. Dahlia was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, placidly eating a cookie. Her dark green tent dress made her look like a tropical mountain rising out of a hardwood ocean. She licked her lips and nodded at me, as if we were at the SuperSaver.

I stayed in the doorway, totally baffled. Nobody appeared to be attempting to kill anything, except for the box of sandwich cookies. The silence made the scene all the more surreal. “Is everything okay?”

Dahlia took out another cookie as a male voice said, “Get this goddamn cow off of me! I cain’t barely breathe.”

I ventured a few steps into the room. There was a foot sticking out from under Dahlia’s dress. I looked harder and saw a hand clutching the edge of the area rug.

“Who are you sitting on, Dahlia?” I asked.

“She’s sitting on me, moron,” the voice said. “I’m liable to suffocate any second.”

I looked at her. “Who’s that?” When she ignored me, I went around the couch and poked her shoulder. “Dahlia, get up!”

“Ain’t no point in trying to reason with her. She’s crazy as a hoot owl on Halloween,” croaked the voice. “Shoot her or something.”

“Dahlia,” I said, “you have to let him up. If you don’t, I’ll have to arrest you for… causing grievous bodily harm. Either get up or put your hands behind your back so I can handcuff you.” As if my bargain bin handcuffs would fit around her wrists.

Grunting, Dahlia struggled to her feet. Her victim moved just as slowly, wheezing and coughing as he sat up. Bony’s face was cherry red. I looked him over carefully, since I’d only caught glimpses of him at the tournament. He had not bounced far from the Buchanon family tree. His sly squint reminded me of Jim Bob. His hair, on the other hand, reminded me of a discarded towel at a lube shop.

“Well, Dahlia?” I said, bemused.

“He got fresh with me.”

Bony groaned piteously. “I was sitting there, minding my own business. Dahlia sat down next to me, so I felt obliged to visit with her. I was in the middle of telling her about my putt on fourteen yesterday when out of the blue she pushed me on the floor. Before I could get up, she sat on me. I yelled and kicked, but she wouldn’t budge.”

“I am a married woman,” Dahlia said, her chins quivering.

“You had no call to get fresh with me.”

“You are a disgrace, Bonaparte Buchanon,” Eileen said from the doorway. “You wait outside while I get your things together. You’d better pray that I don’t tell your Uncle Earl what you did.”

“Or Kevin,” Dahlia added grimly.

I hurried him out to the front yard. “Are you as stupid as you look?”

He took a comb out of his pocket to restore his hair, then looked up with a smirk. “Dahlia’s been mooning at me ever since I came back to town. She panicked when she heard Aunt Eileen come home. She’s just coverin’ her butt.”

I wanted to mash in his face. “You should be more worried about your own butt. Earl can be real ornery. Tell me about yesterday and last night.”

“Aunt Eileen drove me to the tournament. I played damn good, even after that asshole made a hole-in-one. Since I couldn’t win the bass boat, I sure as hell was gonna win the tournament. I mean, what would I do with a boat? Haul it from tournament to tournament? Later, I got fed up with Ridner’s bragging and was ready to take it outside when Natalie finally got him to shut the hell up. Then he came up with this dumb-ass bet. I figured he was drunker than me, so I got in. Some of the other fellows jumped on the chance to get revenge. I guess you heard the bastard got off a lucky shot. I lost my temper and was going for his throat when Uncle Earl grabbed me. He and some other guys drove me here and left me in the yard. after a while, I went inside and slept on this very couch.”

“How long did you stay outside?” I asked.

“I wasn’t wearing a watch.”

“Long enough to walk to the SuperSaver to say a eulogy over the bass boat?”

“Hell, no. I could barely make it inside without falling on my butt, and I wasn’t in no mood to say what ever you said over a boat in a parking lot. I ain’t a nutcase like Dahlia. I ain’t a killer, neither.”

I realized that he was sounding more and more like a backwoods Buchanon. “While you were lying in the yard, didn’t you start brooding about this injustice? Maggody’s your home turf. In comes this guy with money falling out of his pockets, and he snatches the boat from under your nose. Didn’t that make you angry?”

“I already said I was pissed off,” Bony said, “but this sure as hell ain’t my home turf. Frederick insisted on coming. If I’d known about all the drugs, I might have showed up sooner.”

I gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Go spend some time in the pool hall or the barbershop. Some guys over in Spittel County got themselves a meth lab, and they come round ever so often. Cocaine from Mexico comes through here on its way east. Raz had forty acres of pot afore it was plowed up for the golf course. Some of those mousy house wives gulp down antidepressants by the handful. You think Amanda doesn’t pop diet pills every day? Even Ridner brought a stash. When we was hanging out in his motel room Friday, I saw a bottle of Dilaudid in the medicine cabinet. It came from a pharmacy in Mexico.”

I felt as if I’d just emerged from a cocoon, my eyes blinking in the harsh light. Frederick may have been right about having the water tested, starting with the tap in my kitchen. The pot was old hat, but meth and cocaine and pharmaceuticals? Oh my.

“I don’t know what Dilaudid is,” I admitted.

Bony gave me a condescending smile. “It’s a narcotic, stronger than morphine. Legal here, as long as you have a prescription. Ridner mentioned there was something wrong with his lower back. I guess he could control it with the pills, ’cause he sure as hell wasn’t feeling any pain last night.”

I couldn’t see any relevance to the crime, but I made a note of it. “You said you came here because Frederick insisted. Why did he do that?”

He shrugged, momentarily forgetting that he was supposedly in agony. “You’ll have to ask him. I cain’t figure him out. From the way he carries on sometimes, you’d think he was from a wealthy family, the president of a big-ass corporation or a senator or an ambassador. I’ll bet he’s never farted in his whole life.”