A Bloodhound to Die for (6 page)

“You’re lucky you didn’t get anyone killed. I should be arresting you for obstruction. If you don’t shut up and behave, that is exactly what will happen.”

Agent Fray of GIB was holding me in an iron grip. I looked back at him and glared.

“Take your hands off me
now
,you son of a bitch!”

Both arms were released. I saw that Lieutenant J.C. Sirmans was the other culprit. He gave me an apologetic shrug. “Sorry.”

I ignored both of them, and again appealed to Hank.

“Please, Hank?”

“Can’t do it, Jo Beth. It’s Fray’s case now. She still has two hostages in there. Thanks for getting all the others out. They owe you their lives, every one of them.”

“I don’t even know who half of them were,” I replied plaintively. “I wasn’t watching their faces. I just wanted them all out.”

I turned to Fray. “You better pray that all three walk out of there, because if even one gets hurt, I’ll make you pay, Fray. That’s a promise.”

“That’s a lot of crap,” he said. “You don’t know if you could’ve—”

The blast seemed to roll down the hall, gathering momentum in its path and blowing past us. Hank’s
eyes met mine in consternation, and we stood, breathless, staring at each other in shock. The second explosion seemed muted because our ears were still ringing and deadened from the first. We hadn’t moved when the final sound we were dreading pounded against our senses.

  
6
“Looking for Someone to Blame”

B
alsa City mourned the death of three of its citizens. The paper had banner headlines and lots of editorials and sidebars about their senseless deaths. Fred Stoker, the editor of the
Dunston County Daily Times
,must have worked all night. One story speculated that Sara was of unsound mind when she killed her husband, his assistant, and herself.

That wasn’t such a hot bit of news. Everyone who kills has to be temporarily out of his or her mind to commit such an act. Fred was treading lightly over the grimmer aspects, such as why she blew them and herself away. He has a philosophy of protecting the surviving family members from unnecessary grief.

I called. I knew that even if he hadn’t had a wink of
sleep all night, he would still be manning the phone. The paper and its readers are his life.

“Hi, Fred, it’s Jo Beth. You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?”

“Twenty years ago I wouldn’t have blinked over losing a whole night’s sleep. At sixty-six, it will take me three days to recover. I plan to nap by the phone all day. I would have called you earlier, but I was afraid that you might be sleeping late this morning.”

“Fred, I’m mad at that pig from GIB. I guess you’ve heard the story by now.”

“I heard it last night almost as it was happening. Aggie was on the cell phone and I was typing her copy directly into Bessie.”

“Bessie?”

“Had a milk cow named Bessie that I had to milk twice a day, back when I was a callow youth. She was ornery, prone to having sensitive teats, and tried to kick my backside over the stall on many occasions. My computer reminds me of her, hence the name.”

“I’m surprised that you admit to having difficulties operating one. I thought I was the only klutz in town.”

“Jo Beth, everyone who has ever fingered a computer keyboard has had difficulty with them. The ones who won’t admit it are lying. It’s like the new owner of a sports car who goes back to the dealer complaining that he isn’t getting the fabulous savings on his gas mileage that other owners are achieving. The dealer
tells him to do like the successful owners do. When he asks what, the dealer says, ‘Lie.’”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” I replied. “What are we gonna do about Fray? He is the biggest screwup I’ve had the misfortune to meet. We’re gonna have to do something that will get him transferred.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a Siberia that we could have him exiled to. We both love this area, but Waycross is about the end of the line. You can’t send him to a smaller station, or a less significant one. He’s here already.”

“Then we’ll have to get him fired. He has to go.”

“I think that he would be hard to con. He has no imagination. A man who doesn’t dream doesn’t fall easily for a bag of tricks.”

“Give me an example.”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking on it, but the old standby comes to mind.”

“Which is?” I prompted.

“We find out when Fray is going to spend a night in one of our motels. We take our town drunk, Fred, get him tanked and drive him by the hospital so a nurse can shave every hair from his body, then drop him in Fray’s bed, naked as a jaybird.

“We’d have to slip a Mickey in Fray’s coffee—I understand he doesn’t drink—and tuck Fred in bed with Fray. Leave two empty scotch bottles, apply lipstick on the appropriate areas, and remove all clothing from the room.

“Then we hand Aggie her camera and a tip that a wanted felon is in the room. She can convince two of Balsa City’s finest to break in without a search warrant. Voilà! Agent Fray doesn’t work here anymore.”

“God, Fred, I had no idea you were so devious; it’s perfect! My only objection would be treating our resident drunk, Fred, that way. I like him.”

“So do I. Fred would volunteer for the duty if you explained. Fray ran into him last summer and got him thirty days in the city lockup, where the average temperature in the cells is a hundred and ten degrees at three P.M. I try to watch over Fred. He’s my namesake.”

“He’s named after you?”

“Yep. Fred’s mother was so happy that I wrote a story about her winning the Bible in Sunday school
and
spelled her name correctly, she named her firstborn son Fred. He looks much older but must be around thirty-seven now.”

“What was his mother’s name?”

“Calladittywah.”

“I’ll take your word for it. What happened after Jasmine, Susan, and J.C. wrestled me out of there last night?”

“I was told Fray was very unhappy with you kicking him on his shins. Seems you got him twice, before the others got you away from him. He was threatening to have you arrested for a while, but Hank finally got him calmed down. Hank had to write up the reports, and
Fray just copied the highlights into his. I hope I’m still around when Hank gets enough of him.”

“Fray will never get to Hank, he’s too professional. Had you heard the rumors about Leon and Norma Jean and that she was pregnant?”

“Between Aggie and me, we know everything that goes on in this town. I had an interesting phone call this morning from someone who
hadn’t
heard the rumor until last night. It was Norma Jean’s younger sister, May Ann. Do you know her?”

“Yes, she married a guy from Mercer.”

“May Ann was almost hysterical with grief, and when she heard the rumor about her sister being pregnant, she said she had to tell everyone that it was a lie. Poor thing, she wanted me to run a story in the newspaper that said it wasn’t true. I had to tell her I couldn’t do it, and she was ready to spit in my eye.”

“How could she be so sure that Norma Jean wasn’t pregnant?”

“Because last Thursday Norma Jean called her and asked her if she could come over and take care of her because she was having a bad day with the vapors.”

“Vapors?” I didn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Jo Beth, I’m mod. I’m hip. I’m cool. I’m also a Southern gentleman who still finds it awkward discussing ladies’ bodily functions with a woman half my age.”

“Menstrual cramps?”

“Correct. May Ann put her to bed, produced pillows, made hot cups of tea, kept the hot-water bottles full of hot water, and made her as comfortable as possible. She said she hated to leave her, but that Norma Jean sent her home in time for her to cook her husband’s supper.”

“So Norma Jean wasn’t pregnant,” I repeated dully.

“That’s my assumption.”

“If she wasn’t pregnant, maybe she wasn’t having an affair with Leon. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”

“May Ann assured me that in their frequent talks, Norma Jean really seemed to like Leon a lot but that it was more of a brother-sister thing, not sex or the pull of passion.”

“So, someone invented a vicious rumor that spread like wildfire and caused three people’s death?”

“Possibly … indirectly,” Fred said softly.

“To hell with indirectly,” I said, trembling with emotion, “I only see cause and effect. It was murder.”

“I’m afraid you’re incorrect. Stretching it, it might be called depraved indifference, but no one would ever suffer jail time because they started a rumor.”

“You may be wrong on that assumption,” I said grimly. “Rumors have to start somewhere. All you would have to do is trace it back to someone who can’t name a source.”

“It would all be for naught, my dear. You cannot bring the dead back or punish the perpetrator.”

“You’re probably right, Fred. Listen, I enjoyed our
conversation very much. It’s been too long. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Jo Beth …”

“Yes?”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

I called Hank. His phone was finally answered by a deputy who informed me that Hank was out with Agent Fray and not expected back for at least two hours. I wondered what motel Fray used when he stayed in Balsa City to keep from driving sixty miles home late and sixty miles back early.

I called Susan.

“You busy?” Susan was usually alone at the bookshop in the mornings.

“Nope. Wasn’t last night terrible? Jasmine and I heard the blast way out on the lawn. When we got inside, you were the only person I could focus on. It must have been that Day-Glo orange suit. We both thought that you might have been inside when the shots were fired. I have heard from several people this morning what a heroine you are! The paper didn’t give you enough praise.”

“Lord knows, I didn’t want praise, just to get everyone out alive, and I didn’t even accomplish that. I got some shocking news this morning.”

“What?”

“Norma Jean wasn’t pregnant, and if she wasn’t pregnant, she might not have been having an affair with Leon. How about them apples?”

“Who said she wasn’t pregnant?”

“A very reliable source, I’ve been told.” I was going to start being more discreet in the future and not blab every rumor or conjecture that I heard.

“I’m sure my source is more reliable than your source,” she said complacently.

“Come on,” I said jokingly, “who told you?”

“I won’t be spreading rumors for a while, I’m afraid. My source will remain unnamed, just like yours. I feel bad that I had told you and Jasmine less than an hour before the shooting started.”

“You know I won’t spread it around, Susan. Give!”

“You have no intention of telling me where you got your information, why should I tell you mine?”

“Because I know when to keep my trap shut!” I retorted angrily. I bit my lip.

“I knew you were interrogating me, I just knew it!” she exclaimed in triumph. “You’re gonna track down whoever started this rumor, aren’t you? Your sense of right and wrong is stronger than that of the rest of us mortals. The sainted avenger strikes again!”

“You’re dead wrong. Don’t take that attitude, I was simply being curious. Also, you goaded me into saying what I did about my trap, admit it!”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to sound forgiving, “I did, so you’re off the hook for the mean remark.”

Tell me another one, I thought wearily. I’d be apologizing for what I said for the next year. Now I thought I’d try to spread more salve on the wound.

“I have a great plan for getting rid of Fray, the horse’s ass. Would you like to conspire with me to bring him down?”

God, what was I doing? I now had both feet in my mouth. Susan was one of the last people I would turn to for help in any conspiracy.

“I’d have to think about it. Tell me the plan.” She seemed to be interested.

“Gotcha,” I cried. “Just kidding! Wanna have lunch?”

The line was silent. Susan had hung up on me.

  
7
“A Visit with Jimmy Joe”

I
had told myself that I wasn’t about to go see what Jimmy Joe Lane wanted to talk about and truly believed it up until two P.M. At that point, I gave a fatalistic shrug, took a shower, and was now tooling along at fifty on a two-lane blacktop that led to Monroe Prison.