Let Loose, page 10
My lips curved just a little. I appreciated her support, but she didn’t know what I’d done... or almost done.
She watched me for a second, like she was analyzing me in some way. Then she smacked her cane against the floor again and yelled, “Snap out of it. Licking your wounds won’t get you anywhere. Either fight for him or throw him back, but don’t let him yank you under if he’s dead weight.”
Pep talk apparently over, she stomped out the door.
I sat for a minute, numb, letting her words sink in. Was Peter dead weight? The question was ridiculous.
The bell to the shop dinged. “Lucy? Are you here? What’s been going on—”
Phyllis. Which meant I was going to have to pull on my grownup bloomers and act like everything was under control.
I slapped myself on the cheeks to add a little color to my face and stepped into the main part of the store.
All evidence of the poker game was gone, and the ladies involved milled around the main room like any other shoppers.
“Oh,” Phyllis said, dropping a 40 pound bag of dog food onto the ground. “I hope this is enough,” she said, beaming at Ethel.
Ethel poked the bag with her cane. “Is that all they had?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she looked at me. “What do you think, Lucy? Will this get you through a few days?”
Looking confused, Phyllis’ gaze turned to me.
“It’s for Red’s dogs,” Ethel announced. “Humane Society was low on funds so we decided we could kick some in.” Her poker crew stopped what they were doing and watched me.
“Oh, yes,” I replied.
“Forty pounds won’t last you long, but it’s a start. We paid the feed store enough for you to get at least ten bags, and once that’s used, let us know, and we’ll see if we can come up with more.” She looked at Carol who nodded.
I thanked them both; then spun to include the rest of the group in my response. They all smiled back at me, and suddenly everything felt better. I had people who cared about me. I wasn’t alone.
Feeling all warm inside, I, of course, did the polite thing by adding, “And if there’s ever anything I can do for you—”
Carol patted me on the hand. “So sweet of you to offer. It just so happens...”
She went on to explain that she and Ethel were in need of a ride to Bozeman the next day to attend a snowmobile rally.
“The swap starts at 10,” Ethel said. “And it’s a two-hour drive.”
“But we’ll want to stop for snacks,” Carol added.
“True.” Ethel tapped her cane. “Seven work for you?” she asked Carol.
Carol nodded and the two of them turned to me.
“Seven? In the morning?”
“Yes, seven should do,” Ethel replied.
“Unless you want to pick up the coffees before you get us,” Carol offered. “I’ll take a peppermint mocha.” She glanced at Ethel.
“Black for me.”
The two stared at me again.
Mocha and black. Seven a.m. I ticked the items off in my brain before realizing driving to Bozeman had not been in my plans for the week. I had a life, I had things to do... No, I realized, I didn’t. At least I didn’t unless you counted keeping Red’s team entertained.
And George had mentioned that Frank Kelly was hoping to get released in time to make a snowmobile rally. This might be the perfect opportunity for me to talk to the number one suspect in Red’s death.
I couldn’t pass that up. Well, I could, but since I was pretty sure neither Ethel nor Carol was going to let me, I might as well pretend that there was something in the trip for me besides an early morning latte.
Chapter 10
The next morning I got up at the god awful hour of five a.m., shoved my nine companions out into the snow, ate a bowl of cereal and then went through a circus routine of tricks to get them all back inside.
Hot dogs, squeaky toys, a whistle and a firm but caring voice netted me one malamute and zero huskies. Oh, they came to the door, and they acted like they would come inside, but as soon as I stepped back to let them pass, they danced backward and laughed.
Yes, they laughed.
While my attention was on them, Kiska found my stash of lures and sucked down two full packages of hot dogs, plastic wrapping and all.
I closed the door and lay on the floor, ready to admit defeat.
The phone rang. It was Carol, switching from peppermint to caramel.
I hung up and faced the huskies again, but they showed no shame and no inclination to come inside either.
I couldn’t leave them outside all day. So I did the only thing I could think of: I called Rhonda and begged for her help.
Twenty minutes later, with Rhonda on her way to my house to keep an eye on Red’s team, I headed to town to pick up my coffee orders and my octogenarian passengers.
o0o
I’m not sure what I expected from a snowmobile rally, but as we approached Bozeman, I was shocked by the number of trucks pulling trailers that we passed. It seemed everyone who had ever sat on a snowmobile was headed to Bozeman today.
“Let’s start at the Swap Meet,” Ethel ordered. She glanced over her shoulder at Carol who replied with a terse nod.
I followed their directions to a parking area where we left the Jeep and then waited for a shuttle to take us to the Swap.
“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” I asked. I had a hard time imagining either one of them on the back of a snowmobile, but it seemed rude to assume they weren’t shopping for themselves.
“You could say that,” Carol replied.
Ethel tapped her on the shoulder with her cane, and gave her a look I couldn’t see.
“Carol’s husband lost two of his sleds a few weeks ago,” Ethel explained.
“And you’re going to replace them?” I asked.
Carol pulled her coat up around her face. “Something like that.”
The shuttle pulled up and we climbed on. The trip to the lot where the Swap Meet was being held was a short drive, but I was glad for the brief relief from the cold.
As we drove, the driver pointed out other parts of the event. “The freestyle competition starts there tomorrow morning at 10,” he announced waving toward an area that appeared to be a snow-covered race track. In the center of the over-sized oval were man-made hills and jumps. About twenty snowmobiles circled the track slowly.
“Safety class going on now,” he explained.
Ethel touched me on the leg. “You should look into that.”
I raised my eyebrows, but didn’t reply. I’d already tried one new sport in the past week. That was well over my yearly quota.
A few minutes later, we arrived at the hotel lot where the Swap was in full swing. We walked toward the exhibition hall, a makeshift building constructed of metal poles and plastic walls.
“There are a few exhibitors in the hotel too,” Carol explained. “And then most of the sleds for sale are out back.”
I nodded and followed, wondering why if Carol was shopping for replacement snowmobiles, we didn’t just head to the offerings. But then, I had a mission of my own: finding Frank Kelly and learning what I could about him and possibly Red’s murder.
Finding Frank was easier than I’d expected. The Skyers’ table was just four booths in, and Frank was standing behind it holding a clipboard. It was immediately obvious that he knew both Carol and Ethel.
“I heard about Roger’s sleds,” he said to Carol. “That’s a dozen in the past month.” He frowned.
Ethel and Carol exchanged glances. I stood beside them feeling like the wallflower friend who was dragged along to prom.
Ethel lifted her chin and met his gaze. The simple gesture made her appear to grow about a foot in height. “So there have been more. We’d heard that, but didn’t know who besides Roger had one taken.”
“Well, there was Mitch Black, Tony Petes and Fitz McGowan. And then just a week ago, Craig Ryan lost two more.”
“We heard about Craig. Didn’t we, Carol?” Ethel’s gaze slid to her friend.
“Yes, we did.” Carol’s eyes narrowed.
“That was a week ago?” Ethel asked as if this was some kind of revelation.
Carol held up her hands and widened her eyes.
Confused, I frowned.
The two of them paused, as if letting something settle in. I had no idea what.
Ethel peered at me. “That was the night of the Tap for the Silver Trail fund-raiser, wasn’t it, Lucy?”
Frank’s gaze immediately shot to me, assessing.
I, however, was still wondering why they were acting so strange. It was interesting that Craig had had two snowmobiles stolen and that the older women seemed to know who he was, but then Helena was Helena. People knew each other.
Ethel swiveled back to Frank. “You were at the fund-raiser too, weren’t you, Frank?”
His gaze still on me, Frank answered. “I was.”
“I guess most of Helena was.”
“Cuts down on suspects for the crime,” Carol added.
“Yes, it does,” Ethel agreed. “Of course, whoever did it may have planned it that way.”
It was Carol’s turn to agree. “Yes, that makes sense.”
“And whoever did it must own a snowmobile trailer,” Ethel tacked on.
The two women stared at each other and then turned their gazes to Frank.
He jerked. “I guess so,” he responded, looking uncertain. “Unless they drove the sleds away. At Craig’s they could have done that. I wonder if he saw tracks—”
Carol pressed her hand to her mouth as if suddenly remembering something and grabbed Ethel’s arm. “Oh, Ethel, you must not have heard. Frank was...” She glanced at Frank as if asking his permission to continue. “Well, maybe we should change the subject away from crime and such,” she murmured.
Frank flushed, but then puffed out his chest and shook his head. “No need. It’s no big deal. I was arrested, but not for the missing snowmobiles. I was a victim too, you know.
“Just the police grasping at straws rather than doing their jobs on Red’s murder.”
He shook his head, showing sadness with a tinge of disgust. I wasn’t sure if it was for Red’s murder or the police’s mistake arresting him. Maybe both. “They heard I had a gun the same type as what was used on Red and they decided to make a production out of it.”
“Was it an unusual gun?” I asked, hoping my question came across as innocent.
Kelly stared at me for a minute, but then answered. “No. Not at all. I know three other guys that own that gun, not to mention mine was stolen over a month ago, and I reported it then.” He shook his head. “They have nothing on me. My lawyer says so too.”
I wondered if that was true, both that the police had nothing real on him and that Gregor agreed with the assessment. In my experience, Gregor was painfully honest about such things.
Before I could ask another question, a man in his early twenties walked up. He was wearing Carhart overalls, snow boots and a wool hat pulled down to his ears.
Frank looked relieved to see him. “Allen, can you bring more flyers from the truck? I’m almost out.”
Allen nodded at Carol and Ethel in a way that told me they were acquainted. I stood awkwardly by their side, realizing I hadn’t been introduced to him or Frank, although from the way Frank talked to the younger man I guessed they were father and son. Finally, I corrected the obvious oversight, offering my hand to Frank, which he took, and giving my name. By the time I held it out to Allen, however, his attention was on a group of men further back in the room. I tucked my hand back in my pocket and tried to act like I hadn’t just been slighted by a boy who probably wasn’t even old enough to drink, legally at least.
“So you were at the fund-raiser?” Frank asked, looking at me with suspicion.
“Lucy’s taking care of Red’s dogs,” Carol offered.
I smiled weakly. Based on what I had seen of Frank at the fund-raiser, I doubted he’d be impressed by my sacrifice. However, his face turned somber.
“That’s great.” He paused. “If you were at the fund-raiser, you probably saw that I wasn’t real happy about the change in route.”
Despite the fact that I wanted to hear what he had to say, I tried to wave off his response. His face was drawn and he looked truly upset. It was uncomfortable to watch him.
“I didn’t appreciate Red pulling strings and getting that trail closed to our club, but I never...” He shook his head. “Red and I were friends. We had our differences, but we both loved the trails, and before this year, we’d worked together to keep the trails up so both groups could enjoy them. We even set aside no motor times for the dogs. I was just shocked that he’d gone behind my back.
“He even called me the next day. I didn’t get to talk to him, but I’m sure it was so we could work something out.”
“He called you?” I asked.
He nodded. “I was out, but Allen spoke to him. Unfortunately, I didn’t hear about it until two days ago.”
Two days ago. When Frank was arrested. Something else the police had on him, I guessed. Not that Frank was making it sound that way, but if the police had records showing Red had called Frank, and Frank had denied it, that couldn’t have looked good for him.
He lowered the clipboard he’d been holding to the table. His gaze met mine and for some reason I felt like he needed me to acknowledge that I didn’t think he was a killer.
I didn’t know him, though, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Fact was, someone had shot Red and experience told me whoever that was, he or she probably didn’t look like the monster most people would imagine.
As I struggled with a response, Allen muttered something about seeing a friend and walked off. Frank started to object, but the kid had already disappeared into the crowd.
“How’s Allen doing?” Ethel asked, changing the direction of our conversation.
Shaking his head, Frank turned back to us. “I have to thank you for finding him work. I know it’s just odd jobs, but it seems to have gotten him motivated. He’s paying his own bills now, or at least not asking me for money as much.” He laughed, but I saw some strain under the humor.
Carol and Ethel made a bit more small talk after that, but I could tell they were ready to move on. After just a few more minutes, Ethel poked Carol in the side with her elbow, made some excuses and led us in the direction of the Swap.
I followed behind, processing what I’d learned and trying to decide whether I thought Frank was guilty or not. The argument at the fund-raiser gave him motive, and if the police had caught him in a lie about Red calling him, that certainly would add to their case, but then how many people missed calls because their kids didn’t relay a message? There was the gun too, but Frank was probably right. There were probably a number of other people in Lewis and Clark County with the same type of gun, and even if turned out to be the same gun, if he’d reported it stolen...
What would really nail the case now was opportunity. Had Frank been near the campground around the time Red was shot? If so, my money would have to be on Frank as the killer.
o0o
The swap was outside, which meant most sane people were bundled up. I was sporting my brown down coat fully closed, and today I’d added a green hat that I’d found in the bottom of the closet. I suspected that I looked a bit like a walking burrito, with a lettuce garnish.
That didn’t matter though, because as my mother would have reminded me, I was warm.
Or it wouldn’t have mattered...
Ethel and Carol bounded ahead; at least compared to my burrito-coat constricted stride it felt as if they were bounding.
Struggling behind them, I felt a tug on my back. Praying it was someone trying to sell me something, anything, as long as it meant it wasn’t someone I knew, I waddled around, arms out snow man style.
My prayers went unheard, or at least unanswered.
The cheerful rosy face of Peter’s six-year-old son, Jeremy, beamed up at me.
“Lucy! Dad said you had plans. Did you come to surprise him?”
I blinked and fumbled for a reply; my cold and almost thirty-year-old brain did not move as quickly as Jeremy’s young nimble one.
“Dad!” he yelled, bobbing up and down and waving his arms like he’d just been entered into a jumping jack speed race.
Warily, I followed the direction of his gaze, and there was Peter, he who had to work, straddling a snowmobile with Red’s ex-wife pressed up so close against his back I was sure her breasts were leaving permanent indentations in his ridiculously thin Sherpa-lined jacket.
I pressed my lips together and spun in place, determined to make a get away before Jeremy’s enthusiastic motions pulled Peter away from his new snow bunny friend.
But my mother’s gift foiled me again. My shuffling steps had taken me no more than a few feet before Peter and Red’s ex were by my side.
“Look! Lucy surprised us!” Jeremy called, enthusiastic as ever.
Peter tilted his head to the side, taking in my appearance. When his gaze reached my head, he stopped. “Yes, she did,” he replied, sounding calm and uninvolved as ever, but his eyes, locked onto the bits of hair poking out from under my green hat, didn’t move.
My hair. We hadn’t talked in person since Carol had done my hair.
Peering around wildly for Ethel or Carol or a snowmobile I could throw myself under, I tugged at the hat and waddled back and forth.
Peter, however, seemed unshaken. A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Yes, she did,” he repeated.
I paused, unsure how to take the laugh. I could be insulted, maybe I should be insulted, but his gaze was warm. It felt as if he was truly happy to see me.
A bit of a moment spun between us.
Then Red’s ex shoved her way forward to stand between us. “Are you two a couple? I didn’t realize that. We could make a good deal on two sleds, if you are both interested.”
I dropped my gaze to the ground. I hadn’t liked her before, but I liked her even less now.
Jeremy piped up before either his father or I could reply. God bless him. “Yep, they’re a couple, but Lucy isn’t much for the outdoors. I don’t think she’d want a snowmobile. Would you, Lucy?”
