The Arly Hanks Mysteries Volume One Page 5

  Ruby Bee managed to fake a smile. “No, you stay there and visit with Estelle. I’ll make you a sandwich. You don’t have to come in the kitchen at all, Arly.”

  The chief bustled out of sight, clucking under her breath like I’d demanded steak au poivre. Estelle managed to fake the very same smile, which went about one flea-leg deep. “So how are things, Arly? You interested in trying that highlighter or maybe a frost? I think it’d come out real sweet on you, help soften your face and give you more of the feminine mystique.”

  “I’m still screwing up my courage, but I appreciate the offer, Estelle. I know I can count on you as a true friend, someone who’d never hide anything from me or pretend to—”

  “Arly, what are you doing here?” squeaked Jaylee, from the doorway. She wobbled in on spike heels, her prim navy dress doing little to disguise her less-formal curves. She wore a white hat with a blue ribbon and carried white gloves in one hand.

  “You must have come straight from church,” I said, trying to sound impressed. “Aren’t you going to have trouble waiting tables in those heels? You’re likely to trip and dump a bowl of gravy in someone’s lap.”

  She looked wildly at Estelle and then at the kitchen door. “I didn’t come in to work,” she said, twisting the gloves. “I just dropped by to—to—study! That’s all, Arly.”

  “You can’t study in the comfort and solitude of your mobile home in the Pot O’Gold Mobile Home Park?”

  “No, I—I needed some help with the formulas for frosting hair, and I wanted to ask Estelle.” Jaylee looked down at the remains of her gloves and stuck them behind her back. “How long you planning to stay, Arly? You going to be here all afternoon?”

  It was the damnedest thing. Estelle was swallowing like she’d stuck a piece of gum halfway down her throat, and Jaylee was blinking and teetering like she had to pee in the next five seconds. I stared at them, more bewildered than I’d ever been in my whole life.

  Ruby Bee sailed into the silence. “Why, Jaylee, what a pleasant surprise to see you here this afternoon.” She was as convincing as the lead in the first-grade pageant. Jaylee ran through the “study” explanation, giving me quick little glances the whole time to see if I was buying it, then looked at Ruby Bee for further inspiration.

  “I believe I found something of yours in the kitchen,” Ruby Bee said to her, looking straight past me. “Why don’t you come see if it belongs to you, Jaylee?”

  Estelle gave the blonde a shove. “That’s right, Jaylee, Ruby Bee and I were almost sure it was yours, but you’d better go look at it.”

  Jaylee blinked for a moment. “Oh, right,” she chirped at last. “I’ll go in the kitchen with you and see if it’s mine or someone else’s. See you later, Arly.” She teetered after Ruby Bee.

  “She drop her brains in the kitchen?” I asked Estelle. “It’s no surprise she hadn’t noticed till now.”

  Estelle looked down her nose at me. “Now, Arly, you shouldn’t talk about Jaylee that way.

  She’s had a hard life, but she’s a good girl and she’s determined to make something of herself. I’ve told her many a time she has a real flair for hair design and that she’ll be a real fine beautician once she gets a license. Not everyone is smart enough to go to college and live in Noow Yark.” She sounded as if she placed Noow Yark somewhere south of Zaire.

  “And she hasn’t heard from Carl?”

  “I told you I would call if she did. I swear, you’re acting very peculiar these days, Arly, sniffing around like you think there’s something funny going on at your own mother’s place of business. If I was your mother, I’d be offended—I sure would.”

  “What’d I do?”

  Estelle snorted an answer and stuck her nose in a glass of sherry, making it clear I wasn’t worthy of her conversation.

  It didn’t look like I was going to win Miss Congeniality that day. When Ruby Bee stomped out of the kitchen and slammed down a burned cheese sandwich in front of me, I meekly ate it without offering an editorial. I never did get a glass of milk, much less an offer for a piece of cherry pie with ice cream. And when Jaylee scooted out the door with a covered tray, trying to pretend she was heading for the ladies’ room for a quick snack, I ignored it.

  But I noticed. The three weren’t exactly subtle with their hints, which were closely akin to direct requests to move my behind out the front door and stay away. I wondered if they were planning a surprise birthday party for me but reluctantly let that one go, since my birthday was in February. I just wished I knew what was going on, that’s all.

  4

  I drove out Finger Lane to Kevin Buchanon’s house. His mother situated us in the living room, and his father gruntingly allowed himself to be talked into dish-towel duty in the kitchen. Kevin was still in his Sunday suit and tie, but it just made him look all the more pitiful in contrast. He stared at me, his mouth slightly open. His throat was rippling like his tonsils and adenoids were having a tennis match.

  “I’ll only take a minute of your valuable time,” I said, resisting an urge to pinch his lips closed before he caught a mouthful of flies. “What can you tell me about a white Ford that stopped at the store Friday morning?”

  “It had circles on the door.”

  “Good, Kevin. That’s the very car I’m interested in. Dahlia said you had to assist the man at the pump. Did he say anything to you?” Kevin took an ominously deep breath and let ‘er rip. “He said he never could figure out how to work the gas pumps, but it didn’t matter because he never used self-service much anyway. Then he said the front tire looked low and for me to check it and look under the hood. I said that at the self-service he was supposed to do it hisself, and I needed to fill up Mr. Middleton’s car before I did anything else, but he said he wasn’t about to get oil on his clothes and for—”

  “After you finished with the professional discussion, did he say anything about his trip?”

  “He said he hadn’t had anything to eat all day but a sweet roll on the airplane and could he get something inside the store. I said he could get a better meal at the Dairy Dee-Lishus next to the high school, ’cause they make real tasty cheeseburgers and frito pies, but he said he was in a big hurry and that he needed something right then.” Kevin sucked in another deep breath. “Then he said to check all the tires while I was at it, and he went inside to get a burrito and a diet soda. I told him that the burritos were better than the ham-and-cheese sandwiches ’cause the delivery man comes every other week to exchange them. I tried a sandwich once that cracked my tooth and the delivery man told me it had happened before once in—”

  “Did you see him after that?”

  “The delivery man?”

  I took my own deep breath and reminded myself that Kevin was a vital witness in my investigation. “The man in the white Ford, Kevin. Excluding all references to food, gasoline, and tire pressure, did you hear him say anything else?”

  Kevin screwed up his forehead, looking for all the world like a chimpanzee who’d had experimental, unsuccessful brain surgery. “No, I don’t believe I did, Arly. I got busy doing something else, and when Jim Bob came to tell me he was leaving for an hour or so and to stay in front in case someone needed full-service, the fellow was nowheres that I could see. I don’t guess I thought any more about it until you asked me.”

  Or anything else, I amended under my breath. I thanked Kevin for his assistance and drove to Jim Bob Buchanon’s pretentious brick mansion on the hill. Mrs. Jim Bob met me at the door and placed me on a hideous turquoise sofa in the front room, saying that they were almost finished with dinner and she’d send Jim Bob out to visit with me shortly. I sat with my hands in my lap and my ankles crossed, feeling like a candidate for homecoming queen who was about to be measured by a bunch of football players. I had just finished counting the eyelets in the doily on the end table when Jim Bob came into the room. There were eighty-eight. Eyelets, not ma
yors.

  “Chief Hanks, what a pleasant surprise in the middle of my Sunday dinner,” he said, halting on the K-Mart genuine Oriental rug and folding his arms. “I saw a state police car parked in front of the police department yesterday and again this morning after church. Did you come to make an official report to me?”

  “Actually, I came to question you.” I would have bitten my tongue in half before I’d call him Mr. Mayor to his face. Or Mr. Buchanon, or anything else that was half-civilized. “The state police contacted me about a fellow from Dallas who disappeared Friday on his way to Starley City. Dahlia and Kevin both confirmed that you were at the Kwik-Stoppe Shoppe when the man stopped for gas. I need to find out which direction he went and if he might have indicated any plans not to continue on to Starley City.”

  Jim Bob gave me a smile that was pure smirk. “I have a lot of customers every day,

  Chief Hanks. I don’t waste my time chatting with them or asking them about their itineraries like I was a travel agent.”

  “But you were there Friday around noon?” I persisted. “Did anyone else come in while the man was there?”

  “I didn’t notice. I thought of something I needed to tell Roy, so I left myself. Unlike yourself, I am a very busy person and I take my responsibilities to the community as a heavy burden. Although I make it a point to attend church on a regular basis, unlike other people I won’t mention, most of my time is spent trying to balance the budget and make sure that our citizens receive the services they deserve—including police protection.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off with the second half of the lecture. “I suggest you let the state police worry about that fellow from the EPA, Chief Hanks. You might spend more of your leisure time making sure the schools are free from drugs and that the speeders don’t run down some innocent Maggody child who’s crossing the street to buy a stick of candy.”

  I could hear my blood beginning to simmer, but I managed not to let it gurgle out my ears. “If you feel I am not doing an adequate job protecting the citizens of Maggody, why don’t you just say so and fire me? Then your second cousin twice removed can take over as chief of police, and you won’t have to worry about the crime rate.”

  “Now, listen here, young lady, if your mother wasn’t a friend and lifetime resident, I’d apply my boot to your bottom so fast you’d still be feeling the dent six months from now!”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said cleverly, sticking my chin out so he could get an eyeful of my dimple.

  “Jim Bob Buchanon,” Mrs. Jim Bob said from the door, “I cannot believe my ears. You have no business speaking to Arly in that tone of voice, and I’d like to think good Christian gentlemen don’t go around kicking ladies anywhere. Now you just apologize right now if you intend to have a piece of my pecan pie for desert.”

  Jim Bob weighed the evils, looking pretty darn unhappy. Finally, when Mrs. Jim Bob was on the verge of repeating her demand, he glared at me and said, “I don’t kick ladies, so I most likely wouldn’t kick you, either. Why don’t you skedaddle back to your office and do a little police business, Chief Hanks?”

  It was not the most eloquent apology I’d ever heard, but it was all I was going to hear in the turquoise room. I flashed my teeth at the Buchanons, gave Jim Bob a big wink to show no hard feelings, and left them to peace and the pecan pie.

  When I got back to the PD, I found Paulie behind my desk. He was in a spiffy uniform, right down to the gun, and looked a lot more professional than his boss, who was traipsing around in a cloud of dust.

  “Anything happened?” I asked.

  He shook his head and sighed. “No, and today’s Sunday, so it’s not likely anything will happen. The state police called to say that someone claimed to have seen Carl Withers down toward Arkadelphia, but they hadn’t been able to confirm the report yet. Guess that means he’s too scared to show up here.”

  “Or too smart.” I gestured for him to vacate my chair, which he did with a rumble of embarrassment. “Was it Sergeant Plover who called from the state police?” I asked nonchalantly, leaning over to get my duck out of the drawer.

  “No, some lieutenant from the Little Rock division. Did you find out anything from Kevin?” “More than I ever wanted to know about leaky tires and burritos.” I then gave him the general gist of that conversation and the subsequent one with His Honor the Moron, and waited patiently until he stopped gasping and making faces. “I’ve got an idea, Officer Buchanon. Let’s run out to the logging trail where the car was found and see if we can stumble onto any evidence that was overlooked by the state boys. It’s a nice day, and there isn’t anything else to do. We might even find something.”

  “The crime scene?’ Paulie said, excited. “Do you really think we might find a clue?”

  “We’re more likely to find used condoms and poison ivy, but you never know.” I replaced the duck in its drawer and we left. It did too have a head.

  “I’ll never forget my sixteenth birthday party,” Jaylee confided, her head on Robert’s shoulder. “I really thought it was going to be the start of a wonderful life, what with all the balloons and a big cake with pink flowers and a circle of teensy pink candles.”

  Robert took a drag on his cigarette and stubbed it out on the ashtray on her stomach. “Good party, huh?” he said through a yawn. “Spin the bottle and that sort of crap?”

  “It was a real nice party. We had little sandwiches with the crusts trimmed off and punch made from ginger ale and sherbet. I wore a pink dress that was right out of Seventeen magazine. My parents agreed to stay away so we could dance without being self-conscious.”

  She continued to relate each and every detail of the party, to Robert’s disgust. It must have been a real bash, he thought snidely as he lit another cigarette and produced an occasional murmur of amazement or encouragement. He reminded himself that he was paying dues for the more interesting activities that had kept him amused most of the afternoon.

  His eyes were almost closed when she said, “But, after my girl friends left and I was cleaning up, that’s when Carl came over and practically raped me right on the carpet in front of the television!”

  “Raped you, huh? Did he rip your clothes off or what?” Robert enjoyed the details of such things, although he would never do anything like that himself. He figured he was too smart to end up in jail when he could have all he wanted without any arguments.

  “Well, you know,” Jaylee said, suddenly reticent just when he was getting interested. “Then I found out I was pregnant, so I told Carl and he said he’d marry me. Two months after a real sweet ceremony in the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall, I miscarried the baby. Now, ain’t that the most ironic thing you’ve ever heard in your whole life Robbie? There I was, Mrs. Carl Withers, and no baby after all!”

  The flicker of heat in his loins turned to ice. “You’re married, honeybee? I don’t remember you mentioning that minor fact before. Where’s Carl at the moment?”

  Jaylee giggled as she drove her head into his shoulder. “Who knows? He could be right outside the window watching us this very minute, getting all hot under the collar. He’s mean enough to chew up nails and big enough to swallow them.” While Robert silently sweated, she went on to describe some of Carl’s more vicious fights and the carnage that had resulted. “He escaped from prison two days ago,” she concluded with another giggle, “and they can’t find him. He could have gotten a ride up this ways and been hiding in the woods, waiting for a chance to make me give him some money so he can go down south and find a job on one of those oil rig thingies.”

  Robert lit another cigarette off the one trembling in his hand. Husbands, particularly brutish ones with bad tempers, made him nervous. It was one thing if they were out of town on some damn fool business trip, leaving the little woman alone and lonely for male companionship. But a husband of the escaped-convict category was another thing. Another thing indeed.r />
  Jaylee crawled over him, doing a good job of smushing her breast across his stomach as she grabbed for the bottle on the floor beside the bed. “Can I make Robbie baby a little-bitty drinkie?” she lisped, flapping her eyelashes and pouting. It had driven him to distraction less than an hour ago.

  “Make Robbie baby a big fat drink. Make yourself one, too.” Hell, what were the chances the junkyard dog of a husband would ever stumble on to the love nest in Number Three of the Flamingo Motel? He had thirty-six more hours of being kidnapped, and he might as well enjoy it. Let honeybee work off the sin of omission. He slapped her bottom as she climbed out of bed. “You hurry right back to bed so your Robbie baby won’t get lonely, you hear? You wouldn’t want me to have to spank you again for being a bad little girl.

  Paulie and I got back to the office just before dark. I was covered with scratches, itchy, sweaty, filthy, and generally unhappy with the results of our tree-to-tree canvas of the neighborhood. We’d found exactly what I’d predicted, along with three dozen empty beer cans, two pairs of panties, and a copperhead with a nasty glint in its eye. Groaning, Paulie told me he was going home to shower and change clothes. I suggested iodine for the scratches.

  As I dragged my poor body up the stairs behind the antique store, I noticed Jim Bob’s four-wheel, Larry Joe’s truck, and Hobert’s Caddie all parked in a tidy row by the back door. I wearily wondered if Jim Bob had called a special meeting of the town council so he could tell them about my visit and get me fired. I wearily decided I didn’t give a shit and headed for the shower and the iodine bottle.

  Jaylee’s head was back on Robert’s shoulder once more, and her mouth was flapping like a pair of jeans on a clothesline in a gale. Robert had learned he needed only to murmur every once in a while to keep her happy. When she ran down, he stuck his finger in his drink and flipped a few drops on her stomach just to hear her squeal.