Deb Baker - Murder Talks Turkey

“I’m going to use Walter’s phone to call Cora Mae,” I said. Fred trotted along as I made my way back up the short trail.

Cora Mae answered on the first ring. “Mary’s got everything under control,” she said. “Blaze is in jail. They gave him some dollar bills and a pot of coffee and that made him happy. Tomorrow Dickey’s having Blaze’s Glock sent to ballistics, whatever that means.”

Great. The killing shot would be traced right back to my son’s weapon. At least, he’d be able to claim mental incompetence at his murder trial.

“Where are you?” Cora Mae wanted to know.

“In Walter Laakso’s hunting trailer.”

“Oh Gawd, I’d rather be dead.”

“It’s not so bad,” I lied. We’d have to learn to make do from here on in. “We could use some food, for us and more for Fred.”

“You better not go anywhere,” Cora Mae said. “You and Kitty were just on the TV6 news and an alert keeps beeping and running across the bottom of the television screen. You should have thought about the consequences before you busted out of jail.”

Well, that was true enough. “Adrenaline took over,” I replied. “We couldn’t stop ourselves.”

“You’re too impulsive for your own good,” she said.

“Tell George we’re okay and don’t forget to bring food. Oh, and, bring your wigs.”

“Why do you want my wigs?”

“We can’t sit here doing nothing. We have a case to crack before Blaze ends up in prison.”

At three o’clock we had a trailer-full of company. George and Cora Mae brought potato sausages, pasties, sugar doughnuts, and two wigs we’d used in the past for surveillance work. Kitty’s was a black shoulder-length flip. Mine was long and blond. Cora Mae’s favorite, a nifty red highlighted upsweep with a few dangly sexy curls, was already on her head.

Kitty’s shifty cousin showed up, driving a purple sedan and making me more than a little nervous. The two of them went outside, Kitty in her new wig, and I could hear her negotiating with him over something. “I’ll bail you out of jail next time. I promise,” Kitty said. “I’m telling you, I need it right now.”

A camera flash went off, and her cousin left.

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t want to question her in front of George and Cora Mae.

George went out to his truck and returned with four walkie-talkie handheld radios. After adjusting the frequencies to match on all of them, he distributed them, keeping one for himself.

Cell phone coverage in the Michigan U.P. is spotty at best. I’ve seen tourists standing on top of their cars trying to find signals. Most of us don’t bother with them, preferring the old-fashioned land phones with cords.

“Don’t use your radio unless you have to,” George advised us. “Since anyone close by and on the same channel can hear the exchange, only use it in an emergency situation.”

“What’s the range?” I asked.

“Twelve miles,” he answered, giving me a look like he’d seen more of me recently than the others suspected.

I tried not to blush. “That should be plenty of range as long as we stay close to Stonely.”

We practiced testing, testing, one, two, three until we all had the hang of it. “I’ve got your purse in George’s truck,” Cora Mae said into her radio. That made me squeal with pleasure.

I can’t live without my purse, and I don’t mean that in the same way most women mean it. Mine is stuffed with all the equipment a good investigator needs. I ran to the truck and retrieved it. “All here,” I said, rummaging through it. Handcuffs, whistle, mini recorder, and emergency money. I was set.

Walter came in just as we finished eating the sausages. “I got one of the vehicles running. Blue truck. I pulled it out next to the house. Here are the keys.” He handed me two keys dangling from a key chain made from a loop of hanger wire. “And I took care of the sheriff’s truck.”

“Where did you leave it?” I asked, hoping Walter had moved it someplace where Dickey would stumble over it sooner or later.

“Thunder Lake,” he answered.

“I stifled a screech. “Thunder Lake,” I repeated. “Over by Cooks?”

Walter nodded. “Yup.”

“Please tell me you didn’t run Dickey’s truck into the lake. Did you?”

“That’s what you do, when you don’t want something found,” Walter said, looking at me like I didn’t know the first thing about ditching a truck. “In the lake. On the deep end.”

I was in so much trouble. All through Blaze’s battle with meningitis, I’d wanted him to recover. I wanted my boy back just the way he’d been before he was struck down. Now, considering the latest development, I wished for the first time that he wouldn’t recover anymore than he already had. It was a selfish wish. I knew that. But if Blaze got his job back and found out I was responsible for that truck on the bottom of the lake, there was no telling what he’d do to me.

That was, if Dickey didn’t get to me first.

“I need a ride into Stonely,” Kitty said to George while she adjusted her wig. “I’m working at Herb’s Bar tonight.”

“You’re not expecting to still go to work?” I was shocked. After all that had happened, she wanted to prance around town, risking detection. “Besides, I don’t like the idea of involving the Red and Ed.”

“It’ll be fine,” Kitty said, waving away my concerns. “I’m going to work the bar for information. Once I explain to the boys how I’m trying to help their uncle, they’ll go along. And I’m not going to get caught.”

“Our mugs were spread through the entire U.P. How are you going to manage that?”

“I’m posing as Kitty’s sister. My cousin’s getting me a fake ID. His forgeries are just as good as the real thing. Even if Dickey asks me for identification, he won’t be able to tell the difference.”

So that’s what she was drumming up outside with her cousin. False identification. I wish I’d thought of that. “Can you get me one, too?”

“I had a hard enough time getting the one for me and I’m family. He usually charges a lot of money.”

Cora Mae licked sugar off her fingers and chimed in. “Gertie, I’ll fix you up so no one will recognize you.” She dug in her purse and came up with a cosmetic bag. “Come over here.”

I did what she said. When she was through with me I looked like a big city hooker with…well…never mind.

THE PLAN WAS SIMPLE. George dropped Kitty at Herb’s Bar after I made a call to warn my grandsons about Korky, the new blond addition to their staff. They must know their grandma wouldn’t put them up to something like this unless it was really important, because they didn’t ask any questions or complain about hiring a wanted woman impersonating someone else. Kitty, I mean Korky, would keep her ears open, stir up conversation, and see what rose to the top.

Fred would stay with Walter, since he was the most recognizable member of the outlaws. An enormous black German shepherd with red, devil eyes would be hard to miss coming at you. Fred seemed to like Walter and especially appreciated the wealth of snacks on Walter’s kitchen floor.

Cora Mae and I decided to do some surveillance work over at Dave and Sue Nenonen’s house. Since Dave was the credit union manager and Sue worked for him, doing the books, they were at the top of the suspect list. And if June was right, Sue had been talking about condos and had been seen wearing expensive jewelry.

Along with counting on gut feelings, an investigator has to know a lot about human behavior, has to zero in on anything out of the ordinary. Any little nuance (one of last week’s words for the day) can be important. Dave and Sue had my full attention at the moment.