Deb Baker - Murder Talks Turkey

Quite a trick. He had to be a desperate man to even attempt it.

I poked around, keeping one eye on the road above in case company joined me. Nothing worthwhile surfaced. I walked along the riverbank, studying the ground for clues, anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

That’s when I drove over to the jail to turn myself in and take my chances with the legal system, the one I’ve been in conflict with all my life. Anything to do with the government sits poorly with most of our community and that includes me. Having Blaze as sheriff was tolerable because he bent the rules once in awhile, looked the other way if he felt it was right. Blaze really cared about the community. But Dickey Snell? He reminded me of why we dislike government.

No one was there. So I took off the wig and went to Ruthie’s for a piece of pie.

Otis was the only other customer in the Deer Horn. He flung his hands over his head in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t draw on me, Gertie,” he said. “I’ll admit to anything you want me to, just don’t shoot.” Otis had a grin on his face to let me know he was kidding around.

“There must be something illegal about parking a train someplace other that in a train station,” I quipped back. “I’ll have to shoot you twice for that infraction. Ruthie, I need a pot of coffee and a piece of cherry pie. That last one was delicious.”

“To go?”

“No, I’ll eat it here.” I sat down next to Otis. “Where is everybody?”

“Hunting for what’s left of Tony,” Ruthie said. “Have you heard about his accident?”

“Yup.”

“It’s a terrible thing,” Otis said. “That’s the second car that’s gone off in that spot in the last five years. It’s slippery along there when it’s raining.”

“Did you guys call the cops after I came in and threatened Tony?” I said, cutting into the pie.

“Naw,” Otis said. “It woulda been bad for Ruthie’s business.”

I hadn’t thought of that. No one wants to eat in an establishment when there’s a shooting risk attached to it.

“Strange though,” Otis scratched at the side of his face like it helped his thought process. “Tony didn’t call them either. He smoothed himself out and finished his sandwich without even mentioning that it happened.”

“It’s leaking out,” Ruthie said. “Onni Maki came in earlier and asked me if it was true. I told him he shouldn’t believe everything he hears.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” I told her. “I don’t know what got into me.”

“That’s okay. It added some excitement to the day. I wonder why they haven’t found Tony’s body yet.” Ruthie flipped on a little TV behind the counter. She checked for news, found none, and left it on with the volume low. “Want anything else, Gertie?”

“Just keep the coffee fresh,” I replied, thinking I’d sit there until Dickey discovered me, see how long it took him. “I’m turning myself in.”

“How come?” Otis said. “It’s been real exciting around here with you on the loose.”

“Not quite as exciting for me. I can’t do any more on my own. I’m out of ideas.”

“We’re rooting for you,” Ruthie said. “We know you and Blaze didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m hoping that if I tell Dickey what I know, he’ll be able to use it to crack the case.”

Otis humphed like he didn’t believe it.

“It was Tony scheming all along,” I said, going on to tell them what I thought had happened. “By now he’s getting off a plane in Brazil. He’s left me holding the bag, and I don’t have the resources to stop him. The law has a longer arm.”

“Poor Lyla,” Ruthie said. “Either way, dead or living in Brazil, Tony’s gone and it’s going to be painful for her. How’s she going to keep that big house on a manicurist’s salary?”

George came in at that moment, did a double-take, and sat down at the table with Otis and me. After getting George coffee and pie, Ruthie sat down, too. I told George what I was up to.

“I guess it’s for the best,” George said. “I’ll get you a good lawyer, try to get you out on bail. I’ll even put my house up for you if that’s what it takes.”

“You’re a good man, George.” I held his hand then, right in front of Otis and Ruthie. If I was going to jail, it might be a long time before I had that warm, comforting hand in mine again. “Take care of my dog for me while I’m gone.”

“Maybe after all this is cleared up,” George said, “we can talk about us and where we want to go from here.”

Ruthie’s eyes got wide. I blushed.

“Look at that!” Otis shouted suddenly, knocking his chair over and rushing behind the counter to turn up the volume on the TV

As it happened, Tony wasn’t stepping off an airplane in an exotic country with a suitcase filled with cash. Diver’s working close to the Escanaba dam brought him up to the surface right about noon.

Tony Lento really had turned up dead in the water.

The news got even worse from there. According to the breaking-news anchor, undisclosed evidence collected at the scene of the accident suggested foul play. Everyone at the table turned away from the television and stared at me. Even George.

They thought I was responsible?

I could see it in their eyes.

I kicked back from the table and ran out the door, almost blinded by the tears flooding my eyes. I heard George calling my name, but I didn’t turn back. He chased me to the truck, but I was quick, slamming and locking the door against him.

I kicked up gravel leaving the restaurant parking lot, nearly running George down. By the time I chanced a look back, he was a small dot in my rearview mirror.

I’D SEEN THEIR FACES AFTER hearing the news. The unspoken questions.

I’d threatened Tony’s life in front of a restaurant filled with witnesses. I’d pulled out a handgun and planted it on the side of Tony’s head. One irrational moment of tampering with evidence by taking the Glock on the ground by the dead guy had led to this.

Friends and acquaintances I’d known for almost a lifetime were turning against me. I saw it happen before my eyes. If my friends no longer believed me, who would? It was too late to turn myself in and hope for the best. I felt like Thelma and Louise all rolled into one, with exactly the same option staring me in the face.

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Tampering with evidence, aiding and abetting in the murder of Bob Goodyear, breaking out of jail, destroying government property (Dickey’s truck), threatening Tony with a weapon, and murder one for the killing of same. Had I left anything out? Anything at all? I might as well take the rap for the robbery, too.

Michigan didn’t have the death penalty, but if they did, I’d be tried in a court of law, found guilty, and put to death like an old dog. Why had I messed everything up so badly? I should never have done any of the things I’d done. Kitty wouldn’t be almost dead if it wasn’t for me. My family would be sitting down in a few hours to a nice hot meal. I wouldn’t even mind listening to Grandma Johnson crab, if I could only have things back the way they were.

Twenty miles outside of Stonely I pulled over and cried my eyes out in the back lot of a truck stop. I cried for all of us – especially for Kitty and Blaze. After I stopped hiccupping, I felt better, splashed water on my face in the restroom, gassed up the truck wearing my disguise, and even found a phone, where I called the hospital to check on Kitty.

All they would tell me was that she was still in ICU.

I drove to Escanaba, scolding myself aloud for feeling sorry for myself. “You’re tough as tacks,” I said to me. “You’re smart and brassy and you’re supposed to be solving crimes, not committing them. Get a grip on yourself.”