Joan Hess - Maggody And The Moonbeams

"I believe so." She tinkled a crystal bell, and when Colleen appeared, said, "Wrap several pieces of chicken and biscuits in a dish towel and take it to the police department. There is a prisoner in the cell in the back room. Require him to remain on the cot while you put the food within his reach. Do not under any circumstances unlock the cell door. He very well could have murdered a woman yesterday."

"Yeah, Maddy Van told me about that last night. One of those creeps, huh?"

"That will do, Colleen," said Willetta. "After you return, you may finish cleaning up the kitchen and take the rest of the day off. Anthony and I will fend for ourselves at suppertime. Arly, I hope you'll join us. It will be a simple meal of cold chicken and salad, but we'd both love to hear more about you."

Colleen gave me an amused look, then went back to the kitchen.

"What can you tell me about Deborah?" I asked, ignoring the invitation. "Do you have any idea where she stays?"

"With the others, I assume."

I wished I'd taken a class in Fork Flinging 101. "How did she know to approach you about living in Camp Pearly Gates?"

"Let me try to recall." She blotted her lips with her napkin and gazed blankly at her tea glass for a full minute. "Why, yes, it's come back to me. Approximately two years ago, Anthony heard rumors that there were squatters in the cabins. He investigated, then reported back to me. My first impulse was to have them arrested for trespassing, but he persuaded me to meet with them and so I did. Because they were afraid to come into town, they were surviving on meager supplies. The children were all skin and bones, like little refugees. Anthony is far more warmhearted than he allows others to see. He suggested, since the lodge was not being used at the time, we allow them to stay there and arrange for a few of them to work here in town to earn enough money to feed the children."

"But you know nothing about them?"

"They are devout religious women with children. Anthony saw that right away. Are you a Baptist, Arly?"

I opted to miss the question. "And this was arranged with Deborah?"

Willetta's lips pursed. "I've already told you all that I can. They go about their business and cause no problems."

"You said earlier that Deborah comes to you for assistance when they need medicine for a sick child."

"She appears at the door when there is a problem she cannot resolve. Only a week ago, one of the children came down with a frightful cough. They lacked the resources to take the child to an emergency room, but Doc Schmidt donated his services."

"But what about Deborah?" I said stubbornly. "Why did she bring her group here in the first place? Where does she find recruits? How can I find her?"

Willetta rang the bell, then chuckled. "Silly me, I forgot that I sent Colleen on an errand of mercy. I truly hope you'll join us for supper, Arly. Perhaps we'll play a game of Scrabble afterward. Anthony has an impressive vocabulary."

I gave up. "Thank you for the lovely meal. I'd better check on the prisoner and then go out to the Beamers' campsite to let Anthony know that he can leave."

"I'm sure the Beamers have taken great comfort from his presence."

I shrugged and left. If I'd been a Beamer, I would have been more worried that he might shoot himself in the foot than thwart an intruder. However, I had no desire to relieve him of his post until I felt more confident that Duluth was our perpetrator and the woods were filled with nothing more threatening than rabbits, squirrels, and ill-tempered polecats.

I looked at my watch as I drove back to the PD. Les and Brother Verber were surely on their way back by now, swilling sodas, munching on corn chips, and listening as some preacher on the radio harangued his audience about the perils of damnation. Ruby Bee and Estelle would be putting away the leftover pot roast and potatoes. Larry Joe would be the lifeguard on the dock, while Mrs. Jim Bob monitored morality from the porch. I envisioned her with binoculars and a bullhorn, the serenity of the scene shattered each time she spotted a male hand approaching any component of female anatomy.

A fine time was being had by all-with one exception.

Hammet was having a fine time. He'd used a whole bottle of perfumed shampoo on his hair, slapped on cologne for good measure, and was dressed in a clean shirt that hung past his knees. The underwear was kinda baggy, but he'd used a safety pin to keep it from sliding down to his ankles whenever he moved.

Not that he was doing much moving. He'd made a thick meatloaf sandwich, poured himself a glass of milk, and was stretched out on the sofa watching a television program where assholes drove noisy cars around in a big circle. It wasn't like they was going anyplace, for pity's sake. If they was on a highway, headed for Disney World or someplace like that, it'd have made more sense-and been more exciting, what with all the eighteen-wheelers they'd have to pass. As it was, the most entertaining moment so far had been when one of the cars bounced off a wall and spun around like a headless chicken. Nobody'd been killed, but Hammer hadn't given up hope.

He was thinking about fixing another sandwich when he heard the kitchen door open. He used the clicker to turn off the TV, flung himself off the sofa, and wiggled into the space between it and the wall.

"Tonya? Sonya? You gals here?" called Jim Bob as he came into the living room. "I could smell your perfume all the way out in the kitchen." After a moment of silence, he plopped down on the sofa. "They could have waited," he added to himself in a churlish voice, "or at least told me they was coming over. Aw, hell, maybe I'm smelling whatever they had on last night."

The TV came on.

Hammer realized he was clutching his sandwich, but he'd left the glass of milk on the coffee table. It didn't seem likely that Jim Bob would think the two women had stopped by for milk and cookies. He crawled around the end of the sofa and peeked at Jim Bob, who was drinking a beer and watching the cars go in circles. If the sumbitch had noticed the glass, he hadn't said anything.

He stayed where he was as Jim Bob switched channels, pausing here and there to take a chug of beer. Basketball gave way to cartoons, shiny-toothed women selling diamond jewelry, and for a brief moment, some hairy-chested singer strutting around in clown makeup and black leather shorts.

Afore too long, Jim Bob belched and went back into the kitchen. Hammet grabbed the glass of milk and crept back behind the sofa. He 'sposed he could have made it to the closet, but in there it was dark and stinky.

Jim Bob came back and fell on the sofa. "Damn those prancy bitches," he said as he popped open another beer. "I might just ought to call Cherry Lucinda and see what all she's doing. Ain't no reason I should sit here like some pimply girl hoping some asshole's gonna call and ask her to the dance. Screw 'em!"

Hammet hoped he wouldn't, at least not on the sofa anyways.

When I got back to the PD, I went to make sure Duluth had been fed. The cell was empty. This trend, if indeed that's what it was, was beginning to irritate me. Colleen did not seem a likely conspirator, but there were no traces of chicken bones and biscuit crumbs on the floor. There were three possible scenarios: Duluth had been gone when she arrived; he'd waited until she left and then taken his meal away for a picnic by the lake; or he'd kidnapped her (and good luck to him; her kin were more likely to show up with shotguns than ransom money).

But Duluth was once again at large, with Camp Pearly Gates as his playground. There was no point in driving out to Crank Nickle's place; Duluth was a Buchanon, but he wasn't brain dead. He was most likely hiding somewhere in town, waiting for a chance to call Leroy to come rescue him. Putting out an APB on Leroy would be difficult, since his name was pretty much all I knew and I doubted Harve would agree to a roadblock until we had a big-time bloodbath, with Beamers being splattered every which way and upstanding citizens like Willetta, Mrs. Panknine, and Doc Schmidt being seriously inconvenienced.