Joan Hess - Maggody And The Moonbeams

"Think, Jarvis," I persisted. "Did you hear anything in the background?"

He sat for a moment. "Yeah, voices, country music of a sort. Norella was whispering most of the time, like she was afraid somebody'd overhear her. We didn't talk for long, and all I said was that I'd do what I could."

"Did you know she'd left town with her children?"

"I may have heard something," he said, "but it weren't none of my business. Shouldn't we be heading back to the lodge?"

"You go on," I said distractedly. "I need to think things over. I'll catch up in a few minutes."

"What if Mr. Lambertino decides I've attacked you, too?"

I sighed. "Tell him to put on tights and a cape, and come bounding to my rescue. It's not going to help, but it might improve my spirits."

He hesitated. "I feel real bad about Norella."

"I know you do, Jarvis. She had no business involving you in this."

"In this what?"

"I wish I knew," I said. "Go on back and stay with the others. Ruby Bee's making pizza for supper."

He shot me a bitter-or perhaps bittersweet-smile, then went up the path. For a stunned second, I thought I heard him whistling, then realized it was nothing more than a boat across the lake.

Hammet was beginning to think he'd made one of those "sinful decisions" he kept hearing about in Sunday school every damn week. Some sinful decisions were like drinking water from the creek or stealing candy. Either way, there'd be hell to pay.

Crammed as he was on the floor behind the sofa, tired of Jim Bob's grumblin', Hammet decided he was gonna hafta do something if he didn't want to end up crippled. Jim Bob hadn't so much as gone to pee in over an hour, and seemed real intent on watching some stupid movie with folks gropin' each other and moanin' like their bellies was aching.

He'd watched for awhiles, thinking maybe monsters might come clawin' out, but the folks jest kept right on grabbin' each other and panting. He was about to do something desperate when Sonya and Tonya came clattering through the kitchen.

"Mister Mayor," they trilled in unison.

Jim Bob's beer splashed on the carpet under the coffee table. "I didn't think you two was comin' back," he said.

"Now why wouldn't we come back?" cooed one of them. "Husky man like you, with all kinds of stamina to take care of girls like us?"

"You want something to drink?"

"A little splash of bourbon might be nice," said one of them, plunking herself down next to him. "You been working all day?"

"Well, yeah," said Jim Bob, sounding as if he had no idea what he'd been doing. "Why doncha make yourselves comfortable while I get a bottle and some glasses? This here movie's been givin' me all kinds of ideas." He came darn close to whimpering, but managed to stop himself. "I reckon you girls have seen movies like this before."

"We didn't come all this way to watch a movie," purred Sonya, or Tonya. "We came to make one, starring you. Later, we'll snuggle down and watch it right here."

"Make a movie?" Jim Bob said uneasily. "Like tape it?"

"Now you just go get that bottle of bourbon and sit right here. We'll all three relax and enjoy what's on the screen. Later, if you want, we can go upstairs and have some fun-or Tonya and I can leave. It's up to you, Mister Mayor."

I sat down on the grass at the lake's edge and waited until Bonita joined me. "Let's go back to Dunkicker," I said. "I'd like to know if the department's heard back about the license plates."

"You planning to dump me in the motel room?"

"If I thought you'd stay put."

"Don't count on it," she said dryly. "My ass is the only part of me that doesn't ache, and I'm not about to rest on it. What'd you say to that boy? When he came back, he looked like he was ready to cry."

"I'll tell you on the way back to town." While she put on her socks and shoes, I stood up and gestured at Les, who took a final fling of the Frisbee and came across the road.

"You're going to have to spend the night at the PD," I told him. "Corporal Robarts has gone back to the Beamers' campsite, and Bonita's going to crash before too long. Need to swing by the motel and pick up your teddy bear?"

"I knew I'd forgotten something," he said. "Any chance I can grab a meal at the café before I settle in for the night?"

Voices and country music. "You go on to the PD. I'll get something for you and Duluth, presuming he hasn't been liberated by aliens again."

"So who do you think's been letting him loose? I can't see Brother Verber unlocking the cell in the first place, and, from what you said, nobody should have been there while you were having Sunday dinner with Mrs. Robarts."

I sank back down on the grass. "From what Duluth said, it must have been a Beamer. It doesn't make any sense, though. Why would any of them do him a favor?"

"To keep him from being questioned?" suggested Bonita as she sat down beside me.

"But why?"

"Until you talked to him, you thought he was the obvious suspect," she countered in a complacent voice that would serve her well after she'd joined the bar, or even bellied up to one. "Once he gave you his boogerwoods story about being drunk, you started having doubts. Maybe the Beamers would just as soon let you go on assuming he went crazy and killed Norella. If he'd been found facedown in a pond, the whole thing would have been written off as another abusive man going after his ex-wife."

Les stared at her. "Are you saying that one of the Beamers killed her? You prepared to pick one?"

"Well," she said, giving it serious consideration, "Judith and Naomi were at the campsite. I don't know about Rachael and Sarah, but they could have been there, too."

"Rachael was working at the café," I said. "I think I would have noticed if she'd been soaking wet when I came looking for Corporal Robarts. Sarah seems to finish up by the middle of the afternoon, though. I suppose it could have been one of them."

"Or Duluth," said Les.

"Or some maniac wandering around the woods." I got to my feet. "Les, I've changed my mind. It'll be better if you stay here tonight. Everybody sleeps in the lodge again."

"What about you?"

"I'll stay at the PD to keep an eye on Duluth. Don't sleep too soundly; the kids may seem innocent, but they can be devious when their postpubescent urges kick in."

"Yeah, right." Grumbling, he went to rejoin the Frisbee game.

I told Bonita to wait and went into the lodge, managing to ignore both Mrs. Jim Bob's dark look and Brother Verber's piteous one. In the kitchen, Ruby Bee was regaling Estelle with her adventures as Mrs. Coldwater, implying that she'd alphabetized the children by name and packed them all off to some sort of mysterious shelter where they would be saved from brutal hardship and the influences of bald-headed women with smart mouths.

As reluctant as I was to interrupt a truly fanciful narrative, I said, "Bonita and I are leaving. I'll be back in the morning. Les is going to stay here."

"Then you don't think it's safe?" demanded Estelle, getting so agitated her beehive hair wobbled and several bobby pins clattered on the floor. "We still could be murdered in our beds? Mercy me, Arly! I didn't like the looks of this place since we first laid eyes on it, but I never in all my born days thought-"

"Feel free to sleep in the living room with ten teenagers, Les, Larry Joe, and Mrs. Jim Bob. Sleep with Brother Verber if you prefer, or out on the dock so you can enjoy the moonlight."

Ruby Bee caught my arm. "And just where are you planning to sleep?"

"I'll be at the PD. Les has the telephone number if you need me." I snatched up two squares of hot pizza and left before she could pepper (or even pepperoni) me with more questions, most of which I couldn't answer.

Bonita was in the station wagon. This time not even Jarvis looked up as we drove away. I tried to count up how many times I'd driven from the Camp Pearly Gates lodge to Dunkicker and back again since our arrival. The gas gauge indicated I could not continue to do so too many more times, but I had no cash to speak of.