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Authors: Kent Conwell

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective

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BOOK: The Ying on Triad
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I arched an eyebrow.

Pop chuckled. "Like they say, truth is stranger than
fiction"

He was right about that. After all, fiction has to make
sense. "What about Packard? Did you know him well?"

With a shrug, he replied. "As well as you could a customer. He was a hard worker, but like most young men, he
was sowing his wild oats. That's how he met Hastings'
wife, ah-" He stammered, trying to remember.

"Lorene," I said.

"Yeah, Lorene. That's it" He tapped the heel of his
hand lightly against his forehead. "Memory's going. It
must be getting old"

With a wry grin, I looked him up and down. "There
might be some things you need to worry about, Pop, but
getting old sure doesn't look like it's one of them. What's
your secret? You look better than I do"

He chuckled. "Work hard, be honest, eat right, exercise
every day, and have three fingers of bourbon before bedtime every night"

I looked around the neat apartment. "Are you married?"

Beaming, he nodded emphatically. "To the prettiest little twenty-one-year-old you've ever seen. I can tell you
this, she's sure a handful" He paused, watching me
intently as I stammered and stuttered for a response.

"Did-did you say twenty-one?"

He patted his bald head. "Like the old saying, son, figuratively speaking, there might be snow on the roof, but
there's fire in the furnace"

For the third time since I arrived, I was speechless.

Suddenly, he broke into laughter. "Not really, son. I
was joshing you" He grew solemn. "I was married
though, to a wonderful woman. She's been gone now
thirty-two years. I still wear my ring. I talk to her all the
time. At night before I drop off to sleep, and in the mornings" A tear gathered in the corner of one eye. "I'll never
forget her."

I glanced at his left hand. A simple silver band glittered
on his finger. Rising slowly, I offered him my hand.
"Thanks, Pop. You've made this a day I won't forget"

 

Sitting behind the wheel of my Silverado, I jotted more
notes on my cards. For the third time in the last two days,
I had been told that Bobby Packard was not one to initiate any confrontations. The first was from Bobby himself,
then Lorene Hastings, and now, Pop Wingate.

In my job, I strive to be nonjudgmental and impartial,
but the scales of my own personal sense of justice were
beginning to tilt in Bobby Packard-'s favor.

Now, I'm not too sharp with cell phones. All I know is
when they ring, I answer, then punch off at the conclusion
of the conversation. I didn't want it to ring while I was
interviewing Pop Wingate, so I had left it on the seat of
my pickup. When I picked it up to check my messages, I
saw that Landreth had called. I played back the call. "Mr.
Boudreaux, Packard is innocent, I have documentation
pointing to those responsible for Albert's death. Give me
a call"

I immediately dialed his number, but all I got was busy
signal. Muttering a curse, I yanked the pickup into gear
and headed for Marble Falls. When I hit Loop 360, 1 tried again. Still busy. I called the operator and asked her to see
if there were a conversation on the line.

Cold chills raced up my back when she reported the
number was out of order.

An hour later, I pulled into an Easy Come, Easy Go
convenience store on the outskirts of Marble Falls and
asked for directions to Landreth's place. The clerk, who
had been speaking with a lanky rancher wearing a straw
hat, squinted at me at first with a dumbfounded, then suspicious glint in his eyes. "You a friend of his?"

I was sorely tempted to tell him it was none of his business, but I wanted directions, not problems. "Never met
the man, but I have a appointment with him"

The rancher drawled, "Well, his place is five or six
miles out on Farm Road 301, but I'm afraid you're too
late, mister. Don Landreth is dead"

Stunned, I could only stare at him. Was this some kind
of cowboy joke on the city boy? "When? I just heard from
him a hour or so back"

The clerk shook his head slowly in dismay. "We just
got word ourselves"

"What happened?"

"Don't know for sure. Lonnie-that's Sheriff Cobb's
deputy-stopped in and said one of Landreth's people
found him in the den with a bullet hole in his head. 'Pears
he killed himself."

I just stared at him. Slowly the wheels in my head started turning. I had been so close ... but, the proof of which
Landreth had spoken could still be in his house. I knew I
was grasping at straws. Maybe I could explain my
predicament to his family. Maybe someone would be
willing to help me search for the proof. Maybe.

"Did he have a wife and family?"

The lanky cowboy shook his head. "Nope. Bachelor.
'Course, he had house guests, but they only stayed
overnight" He and the store clerk grinned lecherously at
each other.

I cursed all the way back to Austin, wondering desperately just what evidence Landreth had possessed that
could have cleared Bobby Packard.

As I drove, a tiny kernel of suspicion pushed aside
some of the random thoughts tumbling about in my head.
Landreth's sudden death seemed too timely to be mere
coincidence. I glanced at my watch when I hit Mopac
Expressway. It was almost 6:30.

If I hurried, I could visit Sally Reston north of Round
Rock and still pick up Janice by 9:00.

Normally, I don't use my cell phone when I drive, but
I was pressed for time. I pulled into the outside lane and
dropped my speed to fifty-five.

There was no Sally Reston listed in information, but
luck smiled on me. There was a Reston Day Care listed.

I didn't expect an answer because of the lateness of the
hour, but I crossed my fingers that some hapless parent
might have been unavoidably detained and the day care
was still open.

No such luck. There was no answer, only voice mail. I
decided not to leave a message.

Swinging off Mopac onto Research Boulevard, I cut
north on Lamar, then a few blocks later, left on Peyton
Gin Road. I was exhausted. The day had been long, but
fortunately it had been profitable enough to reinforce my
belief that Bobby Packard was telling the truth.

Mentally, I ticked off what I had learned in the last
three days. First, there was the alleged video of an Asian
making the hit on Hastings; second, the slugs taken from
Hastings turned up missing before the rifling could be matched to Packard's Glock; third, Hastings initiated the
slugfest at the Double Eagle; fourth, from both Lorene
Hastings and Pop Wingate, I heard that Hastings was a
politician gone bad; fifth, Don Landreth claimed he had
evidence clearing Packard; sixth, Landreth died with a
slug in his head.

I hesitated, considering the maroon automobile that
had run me off the freeway. Accident? Or warning? Then
there was the threatening message on my phone and the
next day the blowout that sent Janice and me skidding off
the road. Counting those incidents, I had nine reasons to
believe Packard.

My cell phone rang. It was Jack Edney. "Tony. Buddy.
What about it? You going to-be, my campaign manager?"

I thought of Don Landreth. "No way, Jack. No way at
all" I punched off, then turned off the cell phone.

 

G4What the-" was my first reaction as I passed
Laurel Grove Road and spotted a red SUV in my driveway. Then I closed my eyes and groaned. It was Diane,
my ex. I had forgotten all about her. She was due in town
today. And tonight was the Halloween party with Janice.
Perfect timing, I told myself wryly.

Diane rose from the couch and smiled brightly when I
opened the door. Her voice was animated. "Hey, Tony. I
hope you don't mind, but your landlord let me in" She
held out her arms.

"Not a bit," I replied, reluctantly giving her a brief hug,
knowing she was probably expecting me to spend the evening, maybe even the night, with her.

Frantically, I sought some way to extricate myself from
the confusion. Trying to buy time, I stepped back and
looked her up and down. She wore black slacks with a
white blouse. She had cut her brown hair short, an attractive complement to her deep tan. "You look great"

She blushed and patted her hair. "You always knew
how to flatter a woman"

I headed for the kitchen, still unable to decide what to
do. "Something to drink? Coffee, soft drink, club soda,
beer?"

A tiny frown knit her brows. "Beer? You told me back
in Vicksburg you were on the wagon. You know, A. A"

Opening the refrigerator, I grabbed a Diet Coke. "I am,
but there's some Old Milwaukee a friend left"

"Sounds good," she replied, still standing in front of the
couch.

I handed it to her and nodded to the couch. I remained
standing. I didn't want to suggest anything by sitting next
to her. "So, how was the trip?"

"Boring" She took a sip of Old Milwaukee. "Am I glad
to be here. I almost got lost a couple times. This town sure
has grown since we started college here. How long ago
was that, twenty years or so?"

With a shake of my head, I replied. "Hard to believe,
huh? Just you wait until you start driving around"

She looked up at me seductively. "Whenever you're
ready."

I gulped. The look in her eyes promised more, much
more than I wanted. And it wasn't driving around.

They say God looks after fools and children. Well, he
must have been looking after me for at that very moment,
the doorbell rang.

It was Jack Edney, the friend who, though he had
become a multi-millionaire, was still a pain in the neck.
And he was here to pressure me into taking on the monumental task of managing his campaign for city council.
But at that moment, I had never been so tickled to see
him. I yanked open the door.

Jack blurted out. "Now listen to me before you say no,
Tony. I-"

"Jack! Buddy! Come on in. There's someone here I want
you to meet" I grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

He jerked back, but I clutched his hand with a grip that
only death could tear loose. "Hey, what's going on?
What-" Then he spotted Diane. He stopped resisting,
and a broad smile leaped to his lips, splitting his round
face. He still wore his hair in a burr. His head reminded
me of a bowling ball.

I made the introductions. "Jack, this is the young lady I
called you about last night, Diane Mays. And Diane, this
is Jack. You two have something in common. Jack is
W. R's brother."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and Jack shot me a puzzled look. "Diane is from Vicksburg, Jack. She's
acquainted with W. R"

She glanced at me, aware that I had said acquainted
instead of dated. I winked at her. She understood.
"Pleased to meet you, Jack" She stepped forward and
held out her hand.

Forgetting all about his altruistic desire to make Austin
a safer place for the children, Jack stumbled over himself
to take her hand and delivered the classic line. "Talk
about a small world"

Diane nodded demurely.

"So, you know W. R.?"

Glancing fleetingly at me, she replied, "Yes. We met a
few times business, you know"

He took a shot at being charming. "Well, I'm the goodlooking brother"

She nodded briefly. "I can see that"

Jack blushed furiously.

I suppressed a wry grin, knowing she would never
reveal the fact she and W. R. had been two sides of a love
triangle. And from the look on her face, I guessed she was
strongly contemplating comparing one brother to the
other.

Like a love-struck boy, Jack stood transfixed, holding her hand while I explained. "After your call yesterday,
Diane, I contacted Jack. He owns a nice apartment complex out on Highway 290."

"Oh, really?"

"That's the road to Johnson City, which will make it a
convenient commute for you" I turned to Jack. "Diane is
with the National Park Service"

Jack nodded, mesmerized by her beaming smile.
"That's nice," was all he said.

"Her last assignment was the battlefield in Vicksburg."

BOOK: The Ying on Triad
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