The Maggody Militia Read online

  Reed lifted his face. “So what killed him?”

  “We won’t know until the coroner does a more thorough autopsy,” I said, “and that won’t happen for a couple of days.”

  Barry was no longer smiling. “Could he have had a heart condition? Maybe the trauma of getting shot set off a fatal heart attack. Aneurysms can burst, too. Most people don’t know they have one until it’s written on the death certificate.”

  “Wait a minute,” Reed said in a strangled voice. “Are you saying anybody could have this—this thing and not know it? Somebody shouts ‘Boo!’ and you fall over dead?”

  Barry snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

  I intervened before we lapsed into a medical school seminar. “We won’t know until after the autopsy, so there’s no point in speculation.”

  “What about a snake bite?” said Reed.

  “After the autopsy,” I said, wishing I’d had the words printed on filing cards. “Until then, we’re treating Dylan’s death as a possible homicide, so I’ll have to get more detailed statements from all of you before you leave town. Ruby Bee has three empty units if you want to stay out there tonight.”

  “I knew a guy once who got stung by a honey bee,” continued Reed, who clearly had some vestige of shared ancestry with the Buchanons. “He was deader’n a doornail twenty minutes later. We might should’ve taken him to the emergency room like he begged, but we thought he was being a sissy.”

  Barry stood up. “I guess we’ll go back to the camp and collect our gear, then stay at the motel. We’ll get Jake’s and Dylan’s gear while we’re at it. Come on, Reed.”

  Reed downed the last inch of beer, belched, and got unsteadily to his feet. “You know, I was kinda curious about Dylan kicking off like that. The kid told me Dylan sat up and was gonna be okay. Five minutes later—”

  “Come on,” Barry said, clutching Reed’s sleeve and aiming him toward the door. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back for a hot shower and some decent food. Who knows? Maybe the chief of police will join us at the end of her shift.”

  “Why don’t I line you up with a hot little local number named Marjorie?” I said. “She’s on the quiet side, but I’ve been told she squeals when she’s excited.”

  “Cool,” said Reed as he was dragged out the door.

  I left before Ruby Bee could delay me with a harangue about my shoddy investigative techniques. Les gave me a thumbs-up sign as I went to Sterling’s room. He opened the door within seconds. Unlike Kayleen, he was still wearing fatigues, but his feet were encased in slippers.

  “It’s about time, Chief Hanks,” he said. “I intend to file a civil suit citing you and that boorish sheriff. You have no right to detain us against our wishes. In that I have entered into a contract with the owner of this motel room, I am the legal tenant of record. The Fourth Amendment specifically addresses the right of the people to be secure in their houses against unreasonable searches and seizures. You may not enter this room unless you have a proper warrant.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” I said. “Since I don’t have a warrant, I’ll escort you to the sheriff’s department in Farberville. He should be finished with his press conference by the time we get there, but if not, we can join him on the steps. You might even get a chance to share your outrage with the media. They’ll go wild over your uniform and those medals you most likely bought at an army surplus store.”

  He gave me a cold look, then opened the door more widely and gestured at me to enter. “My time is too essential to waste in such a manner. Giving a statement is a waste of time, too, but I will cooperate simply in order to be allowed to leave this festering cold sore of a town.”

  “And we were thinking about asking you to run for mayor,” I said as I opened my pad. “Describe your actions after your band of commandos split up.”

  “If you’ve studied military history, you would know that it’s rare for a commanding officer to join his men in combat. My responsibility has always been to provide leadership and a careful analysis of the obstacles to our joint success. Therefore, I decided to make myself available at the campsite should anyone require further guidance.”

  “No one else mentioned this,” I said, pretending to be puzzled by my notes. “They all seemed to think you started uphill when they did.”

  Sterling stepped in front of the mirror above the dresser and regarded his reflection for a long moment. I was on the verge of prompting him when he cleared his throat and said, “Although I am reasonably robust for my age, I am aware of my physical limitations. I felt it was in the best interest of morale that my subordinates have complete confidence in me, so I implied I would participate in the exercise alongside them.” He turned around to give me a self-deprecatory smile. “I didn’t want to admit that I lacked the stamina to climb a hill. I’m nearly seventy years old, Chief Hanks. There are many things I can no longer do, and my contributions to the cause must be of a less demanding nature.”

  He seemed to be fishing for sympathy from me, but the pool was dry. Instead of patting him on the back, I said, “Like sending them out into the woods when it’s deer season? Did you lack the stamina—or the courage?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, his words almost inaudible.

  I gave him time to brood while I thought about the earlier statements. “You didn’t stay at the campsite, though. Two of your so-called subordinates decided to guard the rear line, and they were there when they heard someone coming. If they heard you, you must have been returning from someplace else.”

  “When I selected the campsite yesterday afternoon, I noticed a spot partway up the ridge that was protected from the elements by an overhang. Dividing my ascent would allow me to catch my breath, so I went there to wait until I heard some indication that the maneuver was over. You must be feeling a great deal of contempt for me.”

  “Because you’re nothing more than a blustery hypocrite? That would seem to constitute a reason, wouldn’t it?” I gave him my map. “Show me where you hid.”

  His hand was trembling as he pointed to a spot halfway between the campsite and the place where Dylan had been shot. “Somewhere in here, Chief Hanks. If we were to return to the area, I could show you the precise location, but I don’t see why it matters. The young man was the victim of a tragic accident.”

  “That’s what the sheriff thought,” I said vaguely. “What do you know about Dylan Gilbert’s past?”

  “Very little,” Sterling said, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the blank computer monitor on a table in the corner. “He said he was born and raised in Idaho, attended college, and lived in Denver before moving here.”

  I poised my pencil. “Where in Idaho and which college?”

  “I don’t believe anyone thought to ask him, although he might have said something to Reed.”

  I lowered the pencil and sighed. “Was he a federal agent?”

  “We had no proof, but he may well have been. For one thing, when he first appeared, he gave me some cockamamie story about there being a traitor in our midst. After some consideration, I concluded that he did so in an attempt to divert any suspicion away from himself. When I tried to do a background check on him, I ran into some communication problems. Barry was convinced that Dylan was responsible for them. Then again, my computer may be state of the art, but I myself am not, and I’ve had difficulties learning how to coerce it into doing what I want. I’ve certainly seen the ‘access denied’ message more than once.”

  “Who did you contact to do this background check?” I asked.

  Sterling hesitated, then said, “I don’t see why it matters anymore. Dylan said he was a member of a group in Denver that has similar goals. I queried one of them on a private electronic bulletin board and received a response that confirmed this. When I attempted to make further inquiries, the password had been changed.”

  “What’s the name of the contact in Denver?”

  “We use code names, and it would be a breach of security if I
were to tell you his. If it came out, our group would be forever banished from the movement. We’re on probation as it is. Reed and Barry displayed gross incompetence at a retreat in Oklahoma and were ordered to leave. Reed became drunk and insisted on loading his weapon with live ammunition. When Barry tried to wrestle the weapon away from him, it went off and shattered the windshield of a car manned by police officers observing the activities. It was embarrassing for me to have my men behave like that.”

  “It’ll be a helluva lot more embarrassing if it turns out one of your men shot Dylan Gilbert in the back.”

  He gave me a bewildered look. “But … they were using paint pellets.”

  “Thirty-caliber paint pellets?” I said as I headed for the door.

  Chapter 11

  Jake and Judy Milliford were occupying #2. As I approached, I could hear angry voices from inside, but I couldn’t make out the words. I knocked and moved to a prudent distance in case whoever opened the door was foaming at the mouth. I’ve always hated saliva on my shirt.

  Jake yanked open the door. He wasn’t foaming, but he was far from a genial host. “Whatta ya want?”

  “I want to wake up and discover this was all a bad dream,” I said truthfully. “However, until that lovely moment arrives, I’m obliged to maintain the pretense by taking your statement. I’ll need to speak to your wife, too.”

  “She don’t know nuthin’ about this,” he said, blocking the doorway like a brawny nightclub bouncer.

  “We can do this now, or we can do it later at the sheriff’s department. The interrogation rooms are not luxurious, but they have a certain charm. I’m thinking about redoing my apartment in the same pea green and puke color scheme.”

  “Let her in,” said a woman’s voice.

  Jake moved out of the doorway. “Get on with it,” he growled.

  Judy was seated on the bed. We sized each other up for a moment, then she said, “Why don’t you take the chair, Chief Hanks? That way you’ll have the table to write on.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I sat down and pulled out the map. Thus far I had six Xs, four drawn by the parties and the two I’d drawn to indicate Kevin and Dylan. I offered the map to Jake. “Show me where you were when you heard the first shot.”

  He kept his thumbs hooked over his belt. “What difference does it make where I was?”

  “Probably none,” I admitted, “but this is an official investigation. If you refuse to cooperate, you should get a lawyer as soon as possible. In fact, you’d better use the phone on the nightstand.”

  Judy’s eyes widened. “But Jake told me it was an accident …”

  “We’re still obliged to investigate,” I said.

  Jake snatched the map out of my hand and scowled at it. “This ain’t nothing but a bunch of scratches. How the hell am I supposed to make any sense out of it?” He studied it for a minute, his forehead creased, and finally tapped it with a greasy finger. “I was over this way.”

  “Did you see Barry?”

  He dropped the map on the rumpled bed and crossed his arms. “All I saw was that kid’s goofy face peeking over the ledge. Then Dylan stood up and turned around like he thought there was somebody above them. For some fool reason, the kid jumped up like a snake had bit him on his ass, and then went back down. A shot was fired, and Dylan fell off the ledge. I was climbing down the rocks to see what the hell was going on when I saw the flare. It took me another four or five minutes to get there.”

  “And Kayleen was already there?”

  “Yeah,” he muttered, “and she said he was dead. After that, we just sat there, her sniveling and me worrying about a bullet in my back.”

  I drew an X over the trace of grease he’d left. “You should have been able to see Barry, or at least hear him in the brush.”

  “Well, I didn’t, and he didn’t hear me, neither. I was being real quiet on account of the kid. I dunno if he could’ve got me, but I had a feeling Dylan was a damn good shot.”

  “What did you think about the rumor that he was a federal agent?” I asked.

  “I didn’t have any trouble buying it after what happened last night.” He took a can of tobacco out of his pocket and stuck a wad in his cheek. “Damn sumbitch shouldn’t have come spying on us. If I’d had my rifle, I’d have shot him myself. As it was, Reed, Barry, and me decided to have ourselves a little interrogation session after everybody else left for the night. I learned a thing or two from the gooks in ’Nam.”

  “Jake!” said Judy. “Are you really stupid enough to say things like that in front of a police officer who’s investigating a death?”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “It ain’t like we had a chance to go through with it. He’s dead, ain’t he?”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re not stupid,” she said sharply.

  I held up my hand. “Why don’t you discuss this later? Jake, you said something took place last night that made you suspect Dylan. What was it?”

  He went into the bathroom to spit in the sink (and wouldn’t Ruby Bee love that?), then came back out and said, “We were running low on beer, so Dylan offered to go get some, and a couple of pizzas while he was at it. He borrowed Reed’s truck and left around six. When he finally showed up four hours later, he said the truck broke down halfway to Farberville and he spent the whole time messin’ with it. Thing is, Barry and me both saw the truck parked on a side road here in town.”

  “Did you tell him that?” I asked.

  “It was gonna be discussed tonight. Damn, I was really looking forward to that.”

  I did not allow myself to imagine what might have happened. “Where exactly was the truck parked?”

  “On some road,” he said, shrugging.

  “Could he have been in it?”

  “Not unless he was lying down on the seat. I’d have seen him if he was sitting up.”

  I made a note to myself to have a word with Barry and Reed about their recalcitrance. “What were you doing in town?”

  Jake tugged at his collar while stealing a peek at his wife. He might have gotten away with it if she and I both hadn’t been staring at him. “I was thinking to go by the supermarket and get an extra can of Redman. When I was almost there, I remembered I’d left my wallet at the camp. I drove on out to the edge of town, turned around, and took my time on the way back.”

  And I’d been named after a Shakespearean sprite instead of a photograph of Ruby Bee’s Bar & Grill taken from an airplane. “What time did you get back?” I asked.

  “Ten-thirty or so, about the time Barry showed up.” He suddenly found the need to retreat to the bathroom, this time closing the door and running water in the sink.

  I wanted to ask Judy if he had a legitimate reason to spy on her, but her back was rigid and her expression laden with warning. “Tell me what you did today,” I said.

  “I went to the camp with Sterling and Kayleen to cook breakfast. Afterwards, I hauled the skillet and dishes down to the creek and washed them, and checked my supplies to make sure I had what I needed for supper. I sat in Jake’s tent for a good while, listening to their nonsense, and when it got to be too much for me, I walked back here.”

  “What time would that have been?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but Sterling was telling everybody what to do like he always does. I waited until they all left, then came here to take a shower, get into dry clothes, and work on a needlepoint sampler for my grandchild’s bedroom. I don’t believe in this international conspiracy or any of their other wild ideas. Jake wasn’t like this when we got married. He was … normal back then.”

  “And now?” I asked gently.

  “He’s so full of hate sometimes I think he’s going to explode. When we’re in the truck, he points out people on the street—ordinary people going about their business—and says how they’re responsible for all the problems in this country. He gets things in the mail that make me sick. Most of the time I put them in the trash without even telling him.”

  The water was s
till running in the sink, but I knew we only had a few minutes to talk before Mr. Congeniality came out of the bathroom. “Did you have any conversations with Dylan Gilbert that led you to believe he was an agent?”

  “We didn’t say much to each other. Jake stuck to me like a thistle seed whenever Dylan came near me, and I didn’t want to make it worse for Dylan by being friendly to him. I wanted to ask him if Colorado is as pretty as people say, but I never got a chance.”

  I heard the toilet flush. I leaned forward and said, “Do you have any idea why Jake was in town last night?”

  She shook her head.

  I collected my pad and map, nodded at her, and left the room. I waved at Les, then headed for the PD to make some long distance calls that would send the town council into paroxysms of outrage when they got the bill. Did I care?

  Larry Joe wiped the window with a damp paper towel, but the grime was invincible. “I don’t see him, but he’s still out there. I can feel him watching me.”

  “You’d better lay off the whiskey,” Jim Bob said, sniggering. “I went outside this morning and I sure as hell didn’t see anything. Maybe this alien of yours has a crush on you, Larry Joe. Could make for some interesting sex, huh?”

  “You ain’t as funny as you think,” Larry Joe said, his nose pressed against the windowpane.

  Roy came into the trailer. “I went down to where you said you saw something. There were odd marks in the mud, but that doesn’t mean much. They could be black bear tracks that some other animal has trampled on.”

  Larry Joe looked at Jim Bob, who was cleaning his fingernails with a fork. “I told you there was something there last night. If you’re so all-fired sure there wasn’t, why don’t you go have a look for yourself?”

  “Why should I get wet just because you and Roy are crazier than Jekel Buchanon? ’Member how he used to parade around town in high heels and his ma’s flannel nightgown, farting so much everybody in the barbershop liked to pass out?”

  “I saw something,” insisted Larry Joe, “and it wasn’t any bear, black or pink or green with yellow polkadots. You know what I think, Jim Bob? I think you’re too much of a coward to go out there.”