Maggody And The Moonbeams

14

Judith, Bonita, and I stared, mesmerized by this unanticipated belly flop. If we'd been required to hold up scorecards, I would have given Naomi at least a six for style. Maybe a six-point-four.

Bonita came to the end of the picnic table. "Is she all right?"

"Shouldn't we do something?" said Judith. "It looks uncomfortable."

"Feel free," I said. "She's your loony sister, after all. Maybe Rachael or Sarah can toss the robe in the machine at the laundromat tomorrow. So she's from Springfield?"

"I don't know."

"Get off it," I said, going over to the supine figure to make sure she wasn't snuffling mud. "One of the cars behind the body shop must belong to Naomi, and another to Sarah. That leaves one for Ruth, and one for whom-Ester?"

"Ester left by bus," Judith said. "I presume she arrived that way, too. Deputy Robarts brought her out here, and when she said she wanted to leave, he came and picked up her suitcase while she waited at the PD. She told him she'd break down if she had to say goodbye to her children."

"That leaves Deborah, unless there are other Beamers you haven't mentioned." I nudged Naomi with my foot. "She's starting to come to her senses. One of you needs to help me haul her up-and stop gawking like she fell into a pile of hog manure."

Judith began to pick at a blister on her thumb. "We use organic fertilizer. Anthony buys it for us from a chicken producer in Azure. We have more than a dozen mouths to feed, you know, and the soil here is thin. We need to put up a lot of vegetables to get through the winter months."

"Chicken shit," said Bonita, her nostrils flaring. "You're saying she plopped in chicken shit. She's your suspect, Chief Hanks."

I doubted that I could pull rank on her with any success. "Supreme Court justices wade through shit every day. Consider this practice."

Judith stared at me. "Supreme Court justices? Do you think I'm Sandra Day O'Connor in disguise?"

"I wish I knew just who you were," I said irritably.

"Naomi's a fellow Beamer."

"She'll get up when she's ready," Judith said, crossing her arms. "Is Mrs. Coldwater intending to take away the children?"

"Ruth's children can't stay here, and neither can Ester's. They'll have to go to a shelter until legal guardians can be located."

"This is all they have right now. They've had upheavals in their lives, and a strange environment will only traumatize them all the more. Can't you let them stay here for an other day or two so I can talk to them?"

"If I could trust you," I said, "I could delay the paperwork. As things stand, we don't even know their names. We may have to take all the children until we can sort them out."

"All of them?"

"I warned you this might happen," I said without sympathy. "You, Naomi, Sarah, and Rachael may wallow in the chicken shit to your hearts' content. The children will be returned to civilization, where they will thrive on sitcoms and hot dogs until the DFS sorts through all this."

"You have no right to take away my children," protested Naomi as she sat up. She flicked a brownish clump off her nose and glared at me.

"I have every right to take them into protective custody," I said, unsure if I did but damn sure Mrs. Coldwater didn't. "You are potential suspects in a murder investigation. You've refused to provide me with your names and background information. I don't know what's going on here, but it smells like-like chicken shit!"

"My goodness, Arly," said the purported Mrs. Coldwater as she came up the path. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when you was carrying on like that."

"What did you learn?" I asked her, pulling her aside before she ventured into telltale familial territory. "Have you documented the children?"

"Not hardly. The little ones were right friendly, but those older ones were too terrified to speak to me, even when I invited them to the dock for a pizza party this evening. You'd have thought they'd been threatened with rubber hoses and thumbscrews if they so much as opened their mouths. I couldn't get a first name out of any of them."

Anthony came stumbling around the corner of the cabin. "I just had a call on my cellphone from Les. He's got Duluth Buchanon back in custody. He wants to know what he should do."

"Tell him to handcuff Duluth to the bunk," I said. I turned to Judith and Naomi. "I'll allow the children to stay tonight, but Corporal Robarts is going to remain here to make sure you don't attempt to leave."

"That's not fair," he said, pouting. "I was here all afternoon. Can't Bonita take the next shift?"

"No, she can't. Once everyone's asleep, you can sit in your car, but keep the windows down and try not to snore."

"But Duluth's in custody. Can't I at least go back to town and have a decent meal?"

I was quite the center of attention as I debated his request. Bonita clearly wanted him to dine on grubs and toadstools. Ruby Bee, who would be serving pie and refilling iced tea glasses at her own funeral, was likely to invite him to the lodge for pizza. Judith and Naomi would have preferred that we leave once and for all.

To everyone's surprise, I said, "Okay, Corporal Robarts, follow me in your car. I'll drop Bonita and Mrs. Coldwater at the PD and then we can go to your house. Your mother invited me for supper. I'd pick up a bottle of wine if I could, but it's Sunday."

"Sunday in Dunkicker," said Judith. "What could be finer?"

I didn't have the nerve to ask her what she meant.

Raz left Marjorie in the front seat of the truck and made his way through the woods and under a barbed-wire fence to the back of Perkins's pond. He squatted and remained motionless, jest as he always did when revenooers was creeping around Cotter's Ridge. Bugs was drifting over the scummy green water and grasshoppers was whirrin' in the tall weeds. And, as luck would have it, Perkins's mule was chomping away near the fence.

"Mulie, mulie, mulie," crooned Raz, whose grandpappy had been a renowned mule charmer back in the days of the Great Depression. "Look what I got for you. Come on, mulie, mulie, mulie. It's real good, nigh onto two hundred proof of the county's finest white lightning."

The mule's ears quivered.

Raz made sure Perkins hadn't come out to the porch, then crept closer and took the lid off the jar. "You just mosey down this way and I'll give you a li'l taste to wet your whistle."

The mule moved away, its eyes wary.

Raz took a mouthful of 'shine and smacked his lips. "Reckon you don't know what yer missin, mulie. It's pure as mother's milk and jest as sweet. I'll bet that sumbitch Perkins makes you drink pond water. This here stuff's so clear you can see right through it and it sure as hell don't stink of dead fish. No sirree, this is good."

The one thing you shouldn't do to a mule is rush him, Grandpappy had always said. You had to take your time and give him a chance to get used to your voice, to figger out if you was friend or foe. Raz took another swallow, then put the lid back on and slithered under the fence.

Sooner or later, he thought, that ol' mule was goin'ta amble over and stick his snout in the jar. When the time came, Raz was plannin' to have a pair of wire cutters pokin' out of his back pocket.

Corporal Robarts, Ruby Bee, Bonita, and I went into the PD. Les, who'd found something to amuse himself, crammed the magazine back into the bottom drawer of Chief Panknine's desk and stood up.

"I caught the suspect trying to break into the hardware store down the street," he said.

"Very good," I murmured. "I need you to take Bonita back to the motel and Ruby Bee out to the lodge."

"Mrs. Coldwater's staying at the lodge?" said Corporal Robarts. "That seems kinda strange."

"Stranger than fiction," I agreed.

Bonita sat down. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Ruby Bee clucked under her breath. "You might ought to take a look at yourself in a mirror. If you'd been brawlin' at the bar, I'd have to think you were on the losing side. Why doncha come along to the lodge and have a nice hot piece of pizza? Afterward, you can sit on the porch with Estelle and me and tell us all about yourself. A nice girl like you shouldn't be sporting a black eye and a fat lip. Now Arly here-"

"Enough," I said. "Maybe you should go with her, Bonita. When I get there, I can bring you back to the motel. You may be feeling okay at the moment, but you'll be needing another pain pill before too long."

Reverting to his John Wayne mode, Corporal Robarts slapped his weapon. "I'll stay here to guard the prisoner."

"You'll stay in this room while I talk to him," I said. "Go on, Les. You deserve pizza, too."

"And a bowl of cherry cobbler," said Ruby Bee, the siren of Stump County.

I waited until they left, then turned to Corporal Robarts. "As soon as I've had a few words with Duluth, we'll go have supper at your house."

"Shouldn't I call my mother and tell her we're coming?"

"You can call and tell her you've decided to shave your head and dance by the light of the moon. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I went down the hallway and stopped in front of the cell. Duluth sat on the edge of the bunk, glowering. His complexion was less greenish than it had been earlier, and his eyes were more yellow than red, which I assumed was a sign of recovery in the Buchanon clan.

"So, another alien visitor?" I said.

"I oughta be selling my story to one of those cable shows, but I'd just as soon go home and forget about it. Fer chrissake, Arly, all I did was get drunk. Even Sheriff Dorfer turns me loose after twelve hours."

I realized I hadn't told him what had happened the previous day. "Norella was found dead. It's pretty hard to ignore the fact that you came here looking for her."

"Dead? You sure?"

"Somebody went after her with a bat. Her body was left in a creek behind the softball field."

"What about my boys?"

"They're fine," I said, hoping they were. Judith and Naomi were far from Mary Poppins material, but I could not imagine either of them harming a child. "Why should I believe you never went to Camp Pearly Gates yesterday afternoon?"

"'Cause I didn't, dammit! I already told you that I sat in my truck and got drunk. If you'd known Norella, you'd understand. You ever run across a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and jerking ever' which way? Norella could get like that, 'specially when she was high on meth. I'd take the boys to her ma's house, then go to the Dew Drop to shoot some pool till I figured it was safe to go home."

I did my best to look sympathetic. "Must have been tough, Duluth. Let's talk about the call Norella made to her mother. A few days ago, you said?"

"That's when I heard about it. Do you think you can take off this damn cuff? I don't fancy pissing in my pants, but I'm gonna have no choice afore too long."

"You'll have to take your best shot at the sink. What exactly did Norella say to her mother?"

He made it clear I wasn't winning him over with my winsome smile. "Aw, hell, I don't know. She said she knew where to get enough money so's she could leave with the boys."

"Get money from where?"

"You wanna talk to Norella's mother, you call her. Any chance of getting a six-pack?"

"You drove over the River Styx on your way here," I said. "Live with it."

He was grousing as I went back into the office. Corporal Robarts looked no more genial than the prisoner, but I presumed he wasn't worried about wetting his pants.

"Is your mother expecting us?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's pleased as punch. You planning to scrape the shit off your shoes before we go?"

He was a boy whom only his mother could love. "What a charming idea," I gushed. "Willetta and I had a most intriguing conversation over fried chicken earlier today. She thinks you need a firm hand."

His face turned pink. "She didn't start on that, did she?"

"On what?" I asked. When he was unable to respond, I said, "Let's go, shall we?"

We took separate vehicles to his house. Willetta was in the foyer, her hands intertwined as if she'd been offering a prayer.

"How lovely of you to join us, Arly," she said. "Don't you agree, Anthony?"

"Yeah, right." He stomped upstairs; moments later, a door slammed.

"Anthony is so sensitive," she said as she took me to the dining room. "He was inconsolable when his puppy died last year."

She did not seem to realize the incongruity of her remark. I smiled and sat midway down the table. Beaming at me, she prattled on as though we were discussing brands of potting soil or the price of begonias. "May I assume you've solved this grisly crime? Dunkicker has always been a quiet little community. We've never had any violence of this sort."

"I wanted to ask you about Ester," I said.

"Ester?" she echoed.

"She cleaned for you, right?"

"Yes, but she was unsatisfactory. It's my understanding that she's gone. Ruth was the name of the woman who was killed yesterday. Why would you ask about Ester?"

"Why was she unsatisfactory?"

Willetta poured a glass of iced tea and put it by me. "Ester was a nice enough girl, reasonably attractive, soft-spoken, and really quite pleasant in her own way, but…"

Anthony came into the dining room and sat down. "Just tell her, Mother. It's not like she's gonna sue you for badmouthin' her."

Willetta winced. "I offered Ester the opportunity to clean and cook, despite her lack of domestic skills. Within a week I began to notice things missing. At first, it was nothing more than change from my handbag or a trinket from my jewelry box. I tried to sit down with her, but she was defiant and angry. Then, well, sadly, the telephone bill came. Ester had made several long-distance calls that were charged to our account."

"Who did she call?" I asked.

"She'd made half a dozen calls to a number in Florida," Anthony said as he chomped down on a drumstick. "When we confronted her, she broke down and admitted it. She wouldn't say why, though, so Mother had no choice but to fire her. I guess I should have saved the bill but I thought the matter was resolved."

"Did you report this to Deborah?" I asked.

Willetta shook her head. "I didn't want to further embarrass the girl. We didn't know anything about her background, so maybe this was an habitual thing, like shoplifting or kleptomania. I even gave her a week's salary as severance pay, although I would have been well within my rights to demand that she make reparations. I still feel bad about it. If I could have helped her, I would have. She was very unhappy."

"But she decided to forsake her commitment to the Daughters of the Moon and abandon her children?"

Anthony stared at me over the remains of the gnawed drumstick. "Three days later she asked me to take her to the bus station in Starley City. She cried all the way and said she'd send for her children when she could afford it. What was I supposed to do-tell her to walk?"

"Did you go into the bus station with her?"

"She told me to drop her off out front. I was wearing my uniform, so I guess she didn't want to be seen with me. She said she had enough money for a ticket. I took her suitcase out of the trunk and set it on the sidewalk, then drove off."

"Well, she didn't exactly blend in, even with a scarf around her head," I said. "I'll have the sheriff send a deputy there tomorrow to see if anyone remembers which bus she took. We ought to be able to trace her all the way to Florida, if that's where she went."

"Why bother?" he asked, grabbing another piece of chicken. "She's probably found a job and is saving up to arrange for her children to join her. She was convinced that she could do it in a few weeks."

"I'd like to know if she has any idea who might have been stalking Ruth."

"Stalking Ruth?" said Willetta. "Don't you have her ex-husband in custody? Shouldn't you be starting with him?"

"He's the most likely," I admitted, "but he keeps swearing he never went out to Camp Pearly Gates. Ruth said that she was going to look for her son just as the storm hit, but I don't see how her ex-husband would have known this. It seems more likely that she had arranged to…"

"Meet somebody?" suggested Willetta.

"Yes," I said, "and I can almost put a name to it. This has been lovely, but I need to go now."

She put down her glass. "Now, Arly, I realize you're used to having free run in Maggody, but we do things differently in Dunkicker."

"Why don't you drop by the lodge and share your grievances with Mrs. Jim Bob? She seems to think I need to consult her every time I issue a speeding ticket. Corporal Robarts, stop by the café and drive Sarah back to the Beamers' site with you. You're under orders to spend the night there. I'll ask Les to stay at the PD and read a bedtime story to the prisoner. I have a feeling they'll enjoy the illustrations."

I left before either of them could sputter.

Everything seemed peaceful at the lodge. Les had removed the visible vestiges of his profession and was flinging a Frisbee with Parwell, Big Mac, Billy Dick, and Larry Joe. The girls had flopped over to maximize tanning. Bonita had taken off her shoes and socks and was wading along the edge of the lake; I could see from her expression that she shared Darla Jean's theory about perfidious minnows.

On one end of the porch, Mrs. Jim Bob appeared to be dozing, although it may have been a ruse. Brother Verber sat on the opposite end, an open Bible in his lap and a notebook nearby in case he stumbled across inspiration.

I gestured at Larry Joe to join me. "Where's Jarvis?" I asked him.

"He went ballistic when Big Mac splashed him. I sent him to the cabin to put on dry clothes and cool off. Yeah, I know you said to keep 'em together, but Jarvis can take care of himself. Wish I could say the same about Big Mac. One of these days that boy's gonna smart off to a gorilla on a Harley and end up walking bow-legged the rest of his life."

"I'm going to talk to Jarvis," I said. "Don't let anyone else go to the cabin."

I walked down the path and along the shore of the lake until I found the cabin. Jarvis was perched on a picnic table out front, throwing bits of gravel into the water.

I sat down beside him. "There's something I have to ask you."

"About Norella?"

"How'd you find out?"

"Mrs. Jim Bob started bawling out Brother Verber, then he got all pathetic about how he was forced to go to the morgue in Little Rock to identify her body. A couple of the girls had gone into the lodge and were scared to go back out to the porch, so they heard it all."

"Norella taught your Sunday school class, didn't she?"

"For a couple of months. She thought she could impress us by talking about Sodom and Gomorrah, Jezebel, Job, biblical stories like that. Kind of pathetic, if you ask me, but more entertaining than Elsie McMay. She thought we should be able to detect secret recipes in the New Testament if we'd put our minds to it."

"This isn't time for jokes. Did you see Norella outside of church?"

Jarvis gave me a smirky smile. "You mean, did I drop by her house when Duluth was gone and the boys were napping? Yeah, Chief Hanks, I did. Four or five times, I mowed her yard. Once she'd cleaned out closets and wanted me to take some boxes of old clothes over to the church for the next rummage sale. Billy Dick came along on account of having his pa's pickup. Another time I pruned her apple trees and hauled off the branches. Norella was okay, kinda crude at times."

"Then you and she weren't…?"

"Hell, no. I've been dating my second cousin's best friend over in Emmett for more than a year. The only reason I did those things for Norella was that she paid me good money. Sometimes she wanted to talk, so we'd sit on the porch steps and drink lemonade while she told me what a jerk her husband was. I wasn't sure I believed half of it. Duluth always seemed like a good ol' boy. He came over last fall and helped me put a new roof on the house. He didn't charge anything, and I suspected the shingles he brought were from another job. I didn't ask. Things have been tight lately. My pa wasn't laid off. He's earning fifteen cents an hour in the laundry at the prison and my ma needs treatment at the hospital every few days. Folks like us don't have health insurance."

"So why did Norella call you a few days ago?" I asked.

"Who said she called me?"

"For starters, I did," I pointed out flatly. "I don't know why else you would have gone to the softball field to meet with her yesterday afternoon."

"I already told you I went to look for my wallet."

"And maybe I should have told you that I didn't just get off the turnip truck. Mr. Lambertino didn't buy your story, and neither did I. You could be in serious trouble, Jarvis. Norella's body was found an hour after you came back here."

"Yeah, Darla Jean told us. You sure it wasn't a Klingon?"

I wanted to shake him, but managed to control myself-for the moment, anyway. "Just tell me the truth. I know it's hard to believe, but I'm on your side."

"Even if I killed her?"

I resisted the urge to scoot down to the far end of the table. He was several inches taller and a good twenty pounds heavier. Then again, I'd had five sessions of self-defense at the academy and could fend off a chipmunk and perhaps a squirrel. "Did you?"

"No, 'course I didn't. Why would I? She was just some broad that was bored with her life and liked to cry on my shoulder from time to time. Long as she paid me twenty bucks to mow her yard or clean out the gutters, it was fine with me."

"Was that why she called you-to cry on your shoulder once again?"

Jarvis stared out at the lake. "She needed money. She'd heard that the teenagers from Maggody were coming, and guessed I'd be in the group. I told her I could loan her fifty dollars. She wasn't real happy, but said she'd take it so she could get out of here, and once she did, she'd be able to pay me back and cover my ma's cancer treatments. I knew that was hogwash and I'd never see one penny, but I told her we were scheduled to work at the softball field. She was supposed to wait in the woods."

"But you couldn't slip away."

"Mr. Lambertino kept a real sharp eye on us till we packed up for the day. I went back, but I couldn't find her."

"Then you didn't go behind the field?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

His head sank. "No, I just sat in the dugout, thinking she could see I was on my own. I finally decided she'd gone back to wherever she was staying. When you said a woman had been killed, I figured it was her. Maybe I could have prevented it if I'd gone looking for her, but I didn't. Reckon I should have felt more sympathy for her all along."

I considered his story. "Okay, Jarvis, I'm going to believe you for now. Tell me about her call."

"Tell you what? She called and told me what to do. I wasn't happy about it, but I said I would."

"Where did she call you from?"

"How would I know?" he said, getting jittery. He threw another piece of gravel at a chipmunk. "She just called. It was damn lucky my ma didn't answer the phone. She didn't care for Norella or any of her kinfolk." He made a noise under his breath. "Like we should have been settin' a place at the table for the governor."

"Think, Jarvis," I persisted. "Did you hear anything in the background?"

He sat for a moment. "Yeah, voices, country music of a sort. Norella was whispering most of the time, like she was afraid somebody'd overhear her. We didn't talk for long, and all I said was that I'd do what I could."

"Did you know she'd left town with her children?"

"I may have heard something," he said, "but it weren't none of my business. Shouldn't we be heading back to the lodge?"

"You go on," I said distractedly. "I need to think things over. I'll catch up in a few minutes."

"What if Mr. Lambertino decides I've attacked you, too?"

I sighed. "Tell him to put on tights and a cape, and come bounding to my rescue. It's not going to help, but it might improve my spirits."

He hesitated. "I feel real bad about Norella."

"I know you do, Jarvis. She had no business involving you in this."

"In this what?"

"I wish I knew," I said. "Go on back and stay with the others. Ruby Bee's making pizza for supper."

He shot me a bitter-or perhaps bittersweet-smile, then went up the path. For a stunned second, I thought I heard him whistling, then realized it was nothing more than a boat across the lake.