Рита Браун - Wish You Were Here

“Murder—you’re talking about murder.” Harry’s eyes widened.

“Well, hell, Harry, a big strong man like Kelly don’t just fall into a cement mixer. Someone pushed him in.”

“Maybe it isn’t him. Maybe it’s some drunk or—”

“It’s him. Ferrari parked right there. Didn’t show up at the office. Since his car was there, everyone figured he was on the grounds somewhere. They didn’t really know until one of the men started up the grinder and it sounded funny.”

Harry shuddered at the thought of what that poor fellow saw when he looked into the mixer.

“He wasn’t a saint but who is? He couldn’t have made anyone mad enough to kill him.”

“Made someone mad enough.” Market exhaled. He didn’t like the news, but there was something special about being the messenger of such tidings and Market was not a man immune to those few moments of privileged status. “Thought you ought to know.”

As he turned to leave, Harry called out, “Your mail.”

“Oh, yeah.” Market fished out the mail in his box and left.

Harry sat down on the stool behind the counter. She needed to order her mind. Then she went to the phone and rang up Appalachia Equine. Fair was out, so she left a message for him to call her pronto. Then she dialed Susan.

“Doodle, doodle, doodle.” Susan answered the phone. She’d grown tired of “Hello.”

“Susan!”

Susan knew from the sound of Harry’s voice that something was amiss. “What’s wrong?”

“Kelly Craycroft’s body was found in a cement mixer. Market just told me, and he said it was murder.”

“Murder?!”

3

Rick Shaw, Albemarle County sheriff, hitched up the broad Sam Browne belt. His gun felt even heavier in this stinking heat and it didn’t help that he’d put on a pound or two in the last eighteen months. Before he became sheriff he had been more active but now he spent too much time behind his desk. His appetite did not diminish, however, and he began to think that the red tape he had to wade through actually increased his appetite through frustration. The sheriff who preceded him died fat as a tick. This was not a happy thought.

This was not a happy case. Rick had grown accustomed to the vileness of men. He’d seen shoot-outs, drunken knife fights, and corpses of people who had been bludgeoned to death. The traffic accidents weren’t much better but at least they weren’t premeditated. Albemarle County suffered about two murders a year, usually domestic. This was different, and he sensed it the minute he stepped out of the car.

Officer Cynthia Cooper had arrived on the scene first. A tall young woman with sense as well as experience, she had cordoned off the area. The fingerprint team was on the way but Rick didn’t hope for much there. The staff at Craycroft Concrete stood in the sun, too hot to be standing around like that but they were dazed.

Someone was screaming somewhere, and according to Officer Cooper, Kelly’s wife was at home, sedated. He regretted that and would have to have a word with Hayden McIntire, the doctor. Sedating should be done after the questioning, not before.

A BMW screeched through the entrance. Kelly Craycroft’s wife vaulted from her seat and raced for the mixer.

“BoomBoom!” Rick hollered at her.

BoomBoom soared over the cordoning and roughly pushed her way past Diana Farrell of the Rescue Squad. Clai Cordle, another nurse and squad member, couldn’t stop her either.

Cynthia Cooper made a flying tackle but it was a second too late and BoomBoom was climbing up the ladder to the opening of the mixer.

“He’s my husband! You can’t keep me from my husband!”

“You don’t want to see that, girl.” Rick moved his bulk as quickly as he could.

Cynthia scurried up the ladder and grabbed BoomBoom’s ankle but not before the raven-haired woman lifted her head over the side of the mixer. Immobile for a second, she fell back into Cynthia Cooper’s arms in a dead faint, nearly knocking the young policewoman off the ladder.

Rick reached up and held Cynthia around the waist as Diana ran over to help. They got BoomBoom to the ground.

Diana broke open the amyl nitrite.

Cynthia snatched it from her hand. “All she’s got are these few moments before this hits her again. Let her have them.”

Rick cleared his throat. He hated this. He also hated that BoomBoom might throw up when she came to and he fervently hoped she wouldn’t. Blood and guts were one thing. Vomit was another.

BoomBoom moaned. She opened her eyes. Rick held his breath. She sat up and swallowed. He exhaled. She wasn’t going to throw up. She wasn’t even going to cry.

“He looks like something in the Cuisinart.” BoomBoom’s voice sounded flat.

“Don’t think about it,” Officer Cooper advised.

“I’ll remember the sight for the rest of my natural life.” BoomBoom struggled to her feet. She swayed a bit and Rick steadied her. “I’m all right. Just . . . give me a minute.”

“Why don’t we go over to the office. The air conditioning will help.”

Officer Cooper and BoomBoom walked over to the small office and Rick motioned to Diana and Clai to get the body pieces out of the mixer. “Don’t let BoomBoom see the bag.”

“Keep her inside,” Diana requested.

“Do what I can but she’s a wild one. Been that way since she was a kid.” Rick took off his hat and entered the office.

Marie Williams, Craycroft Concrete’s secretary, sobbed. At the sight of BoomBoom she emitted a wail.

BoomBoom stared at her in disgust. “Pull yourself together, Marie.”

“I loved him. I just loved him. He was the best man in the world to work for. He’d bring me roses on Secretary’s Day. He’d give me time off when Timmy was sick. Didn’t dock my pay.” A fresh outburst followed this.

BoomBoom hit the chair with a thump. Behind her a huge poster of a sitting duck slurping a drink, bullet holes in the wall behind him, gave the room a festive air. If Marie kept this up she’d throw her in the mixer. BoomBoom loathed displays of emotion. Circumstances did not alter her opinion on this.

“Mrs. Williams, why don’t you come into Mr. Craycroft’s office with me. Maybe you can explain his daily routine. We can’t touch anything until the prints men come in.”

“I understand.” Marie shuffled off with Officer Cooper, shutting the door behind her.

“You don’t really know if that’s my husband in there.” BoomBoom’s voice didn’t sound normal.

“No.”

She leaned back in the chair. “It is, though.”

“How do you know?” Rick’s voice was gentle but probing.

“I feel it. Besides, his car is parked here and Kelly was never far from that car. Loved it more than anything, even me, his wife.”

“Do you have any idea how this could have happened?”

“Apart from someone pushing him into the mixer, no.” Her eyes glittered.