1 Death of a Garden Hoe (5 page)
Pone and Cash dropped what they were doing and scrambled over mountains of garbage to see what Bean found. Big Mike got there a moment later.
Cash asked, "What is that?"
Bean pointed near his toe. "Look there. I think it's a watch."
"A watch? So what?"
Bean rubbed his nose and squatted. "Look again, Mr. Moneybags, what
kind
of watch do you see?"
Pone squatted beside Bean. "It says 'Car-teer', like what is that supposed to mean?"
Cash squinted and yelled, "Holy crap! It's a
Cartier
, you dumbass. That's
Car-tee-eh
, not Car-teer. That watch could be worth over
twenty
grand!
I don't even have one of those. It
has
to be a clue. Detective Williams! We got something! Look at that! A real clue!"
Big Mike stared at the French watch lying on a banana peel. "Calm down there boy. Looks like you might be right, Cash, It says
Cartier
on the face. Good job, Bean. Let's get a picture of this and we'll bag it up."
Big Mike turned away and Bean turned to Cash. "Oh, and Cash? Because one does not know how to pronounce
Cartier
, does not make him a cretin. That's pronounced, 'cree-tin', and means stupid, brainless, or as you put it, 'dumbass'."
Pone and Bean knocked knuckles and walked away. Cash stood there with his mouth hanging open and cranberry sauce dripping from his right glove. He spun to face Big Mike, who turned away, a small smile on his lips.
* * *
"The reports by themselves mean nothing," Big Mike Williams read aloud from his notes. "The evidence they took off the girl revealed very little. The skin and blood under her fingernails did not match any DNA in the FBI's files. But the watch. The watch was a find. If they could trace–"
The ringing of the phone startled Big Mike out of his rambling. He grabbed it on the second ring. "Williams."
"Hey, Dad? This is Williams, Two."
"Hi, Son, What's up."
A slight pause an then, "Uh, you know I'm pretty good on the computer, right?"
Big Mike looked at the ceiling and said a short prayer. "Yes? Do I have to call off the cyber police, young man?"
No, no! Nothing like that. It's just, well, I think I have a little more info on the watch Bean found."
Big Mike sighed. "I'm listening." He could hear the rustling of papers and Pone dropped the phone twice before he was ready to talk.
"Okay. I got it now. I took the stuff your guys had on the watch. I went to the website where the watch was sold. I found the watch. By the way, Cash was right. The watch is about twenty-five-thousand dollars worth of gold and other stuff. It is not something you can pick up at Wal-Mart."
"Go on."
More paper rustled. "And you can only buy this watch online." A silent pause.
Big Mike began to sweat. "And?"
Pone waited another beat. "And if one was to be able to hack
Cartier's
records, they would find that one of the three watches sold online was sold to a guy in Milwaukee. A very rich guy in Milwaukee."
Big Mike was in a panic. "Stop! Don't say any more. Any information you find illegally will not be able to be used as evidence in court. So before you tell me anything else, you need to tell me how you got your information."
A huge sigh. In a small voice Pone admitted, "I hacked their sales records."
"Damn it, Mikey, you can't do that!"
"I could be an unknown source with a tip."
"But that would be a lie, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah. Wait a minute. I gotta do something."
The phone clicked in his ear. Big Mike heard a dial tone. He hung up. The phone began to ring and he grabbed it. "Michael Jonas Williams, I am warning you–"
A gravelly voice rumbled in Big Mike's ear. "This is not Michael Jonas. This is an unknown guy with a tip about the watch."
"Michael, I have had about enough of this. I'm trying to change your criminal thinking habits. This is not doing you a bit of good!"
"I said I'm not Michael, but if you want to know who murdered–"
Big Mike's cell phone rang. "I am not through with you yet young man. He picked up his cell phone. "Williams."
"Dad? Your house line was busy so I thought I'd call your cel–"
Big Mike dropped the cell phone and snatched up his house phone. "Are you still there? I'm sorry, my other phone rang and I–"
"Never mind. I do not have much time. Look at Franklin B. Hunnicut IV." Big Mike scribbled the name on the counter top. "He has a taste for expensive watches and young girls."
The phone went dead.
Big Mike stared at the name on the counter top. He heard muffled shouting and realized Mikey was still on his cell phone. Snatching it up he said, "Sorry, Mike, I thought you were on the house phone."
"No not me. I wanted to check out if a tip would be judged as–"
Big Mike broke in. "Hold on, I just got a
real
tip on the house phone. They said to look up Franklin Hunnicut the Fourth."
"Wow, Dad. That is the same guy I was trying to tell you about!"
"Well, it's better to go the legal route. My phone records everything. This is what I have pounded into your head since you were a child. We got lucky this time, kid. It's usually not this easy. Why don't you tell Bean and Cash we can meet in the morning to talk about how we go from here?"
"Uh, can't do it until after about ten o'clock, Dad. We have to deliver landscape timbers to the Christian camp outside Lake Geneva. We're going to build them raised beds for a community garden. They want to donate the harvest to homeless shelters."
"Great project. Okay, I'll go into the office early and be back here around noon."
"We'll be there. Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome, Kiddo, see you then."
"See ya."
Big Mike sat and stared at the phone.
Kids. Did they really think I bought that line of crap they just gave me? Hah!
He gathered his papers and stuffed them into the file
.
Back at the garden center, Bean slapped his cell phone closed and flopped into a chair. "Wow! I can't believe he fell for that line of crap!"
Cash took the voice scrambler and put it away. "This little thing has come in handy a time or two.
Pone stood by the door in deep thought. "Yeah, I can't believe he bought it, my dad never believes anything. We must have been really good." He scratched his head. "Or he was giving us a line and knew all along."
They looked at each other. They broke out laughing and said, "Naw!"
They laughed again and headed for the greenhouse. Tonight they were planting containers. Shroom and Cash were in charge of mixing the soil. Cash had already hauled the peat moss and Pearlite into the mixing room. The mushroom compost was already there. The fertilizer would go in last.
Ollie was already there. Spaz placed the plants by each container.
Ollie was saying, "The peat is for the acid loving annuals. The Pearlite creates space for oxygen, and helps so the soil does not pack in around the roots. The mushroom compost amends, or breaks up the mix, and adds vitamins. The slow-release fertilizer will feed the plants all summer."
She walked over to Pone and Bean. "Remember, Bean, no stuffing them in there like you did the window boxes."
He heard Spaz laugh and felt himself turning red.
"And remember to leave about two inches of space at the top of the container. We don't want to lose soil when we water. That's it, so let's get going."
"Yes, ma'am," Bean said.
Pone looked over at Bean. He picked up an impatiens and gently separated the roots before carefully setting it in the container. "That's the way you do it."
Bean sighed and Pone smiled.
"Okay, Bean. Let's plan how we are going to make this work. Here's what I think, and we'll pull Cash in on this after we're done here tonight..."
* * *
Across town, Big Mike turned off the hall light and crawled into bed. He picked up the latest Clive Cussler novel and perched his glasses on his nose. He read a few pages, but his thoughts turned back to the dead girl and what Mikey found by hacking the
Cartier
site.
Franklin B. Hunnicut. Mikey didn't even ask if I knew who he was. Probably thinks Hunnicut is way out of my league. He'd be right. But I was young once. Back then, I mowed lawns in high school. I played varsity baseball. I was on scholarship to the prep school Junior and Senior year.
I kept my mouth shut when I saw Hunnicut and his friends doing bad stuff. And I still believe he was behind the fire that burned the west wing of the school back in '73. Yeah, I had a butt full of Franklin B. Hunnicut The Fourth when I was younger.
Rich kid who thought the world bowed down to him. He thought people were his to use and abuse whenever he wanted. Like Mary Lou Putney. Big boobs, no brains, pregnant and alone at sixteen. Daddy Hunnicut bought off the family and Mary Lou had to quit school. Her family moved away. I often wondered what happened to her.
Big Mike put the file away and turned off the lights. "Frankie Hunnicut, you bastard, I almost hope it's you."
End of Part 1
**What happens when Pone, Bean, and Cash start digging for dirt on Franklin B. Hunnicut?
**If Spaz goes off on her own, will she find herself over the top, or planted six feet under?
**Will Shroom have the courage to choose what is right over what is easy
?
Or is he leading his friends down the garden path?
Find the answers to these questions and more next month
in Part Two of
Death of a Garden Hoe:
Digging up Dirt
Gale Borger
has been involved in law enforcement for over 20 years. This gives Gale an endless source of background material for her books. Growing up in a screwball household also gives her a sense for the zany and the bizarre. Gale writes what she knows, and she knows bad guys and funny stuff—but not necessarily in that order!
Gale lives in Southeastern Wisconsin with her husband and daughter, a Dogue de Bordeaux, two cats, about 1500 tropical fish, an African Horned Toad, a side-neck turtle, two dwarf hamsters, and a leopard gecko.
When Gale is not writing, she and her husband breed and swap tropical fish. Gale is also a Master Gardener and after work can usually be found in a flower bed up to her ears in weeds, or volunteering at a local gardening event.
Totally Buzzed
is the first book in the Miller Sisters Mysteries.
See what’s up with Gale at
www.galeborgerbooks.com
check out her blog at
www.galeborgerbooks.wordpress.com
or contact her at
