Murder Talks Turkey (5 page)

Star was behind the bar with Red, who was named for his brilliant shock of red hair.

“I need help,” I said to Star after she plunked a diet pop down in front of me. “Mary’s gone for a few days and I can’t handle my new business and take care of Grandma and Blaze at the same time.”

“I get off in thirty minutes, I’ll come over.”

I sighed with relief.

“I’m off tomorrow,” she continued, “I’ll do it then, too.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know,” Star said, with a twinkle in her eye, which left me pondering what she meant by that remark. Star’s husband ran off several years ago and she’s been playing the field ever since. My baby is cute and cuddly and I miss spending time with her. Between helping the boys keep Herb’s running and her active social life, I don’t see much of my daughter.

I drank my pop, then headed home to wait for Star to get off work.

__________

“What do you mean, you lost him?” Cora Mae said from her kitchen table as the sun set in orange stripes outside the window.

“It’s harder than it sounds,” I said, digging into the platter of pan-fried chicken Kitty had made on Cora Mae’s little-used stovetop. “It might help if you could drive. Kitty and I are doing all the surveillance work.”

“You can practice behind the wheel with me,” Kitty offered, licking her fingers. “You had your license at one time, so you must know how. You’re just rusty.”

“I better start right now,” Cora Mae said. “Because you and Gertie are doing an awful job of tailing him.”

That was the truth, but I hated to admit it. “That’s not true,” I said.

Cora Mae used her fingers to pop one measly piece of lettuce into her mouth from the salad in front of her. “I’ve been doing research while you two have been busy losing Tony.”

“You found out who he’s seeing on the side?” Kitty asked.

“No. I found out about the orange sneakers on the bank robber.”

“We should look into that case, too,” I said. “Since I was one of the hostages, I’m interested.”

“Nothing could keep you away from a case like this,” Kitty said. “Even if you hadn’t been in the credit union when it happened.”

Cora Mae ate another bit of lettuce. “Kent Miller came from the Soo, that’s his legal address, but he was trying to break into a gang.”

“Imagine applying for a gang position. Is that how it’s done?” I said. “And what are they called? The orange shoe gang?”

“That’s their logo, or whatever a gang calls its individual mark.”

Kitty rolled a mouthful of chicken into one cheek. “He was a gangbanger? Wow. A gangbanger right in our backyard.”

“An amateur one,” I reminded her. “A real one would have shot all of us.”

Kitty tackled another piece of chicken. “Why would he announce himself that way?”

“He never expected to get caught. Gang members aren’t very smart,” I guessed with some confidence. Not that Stonely ever had a gang. The closest we came was two years ago when Jesse Olson and his gang took baseball bats and beat up all the local mailboxes in broad daylight. That gang wasn’t too bright, either.

“It’s an inside job,” I said. “His accomplice has to be Dave Nenonen. He’s the manager, so he’s the only one with total access to the cash. And you should have seen what a hurry he was in to open the vault. Didn’t put up a fuss at all.”

Kitty nodded. “Maybe Dave siphoned out the money over time and the robbery was intended to draw attention away from him.”

“Dave’s like family,” Cora Mae said. “He’s not our guy.”

Every man in town is like family to Cora Mae. She’s dated almost all of them and doesn’t have a mean word to say about a single one. Before Dave married Sue and while Cora Mae was between husbands, they had a little fling. When they meet here and there in town, I can’t help noticing that Dave won’t look Cora Mae directly in the eye. Like if he did, he’d remember something so special, he’d lose control of his married life.

That’s what Cora Mae does to a man.

Tonight, after nibbling her few crumbs of rabbit food, she dressed all in black—dainty boots, tight black jeans, and a soft and fuzzy sweater with glitter. Kitty wore a housedress tent thing and had combed out all but a row of pin curls in the front.

“You still have pin curls in your hair.” I thought I should mention in case she had missed them.

“I know,” the beauty queen answered, without offering an explanation. “How’s it going with you and George?”

I’m a recent widow, so George and I are taking it slow at my request. George has been a family friend for as long as I can remember. He’s sixty years old and can fix anything that’s broken. The two of us are like soul mates. To top it off, he has tight buns and great muscles in all the right places.

“He’ll be along later,” I said. “He’s finishing a carpentry job.”

Since Star was babysitting Blaze and Grandma, and had agreed to take them to play bingo, the three of us had free reign to handle business. The big occasion that had Kitty doing a comb out was the spring dance in Trenary. It was held in the senior center, next to the church that hosted the bingo games Grandma and Pearl were going to.

Friday night dances in the U.P. aren’t as filled with excitement as non-Yoopers might think. However, all the locals would be there, including Tony and Dave. We could pick up a lost trail and question Dave at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone.

As it turned out, only one bird died, and it wasn’t either of those two boys.

Chapter 7

TRENARY, WITH FIVE HUNDRED RESIDENTS, is a big city compared to Stonely. It has a few bars, a grocery store, a pizza place, and the cemetery where my Barney is buried. It’s also home to the U.P.’s famous Trenary toast, a Finnish cinnamon treat sold in a brown paper bag. We love strong coffee, and we love to dip Trenary toast into it.

If it were daylight, Cora Mae and I would have stopped at the cemetery and visited her three deceased husbands, who managed to get buried together in one plot with room left over for Cora Mae someday. I often wonder what they would have thought of their final interment arrangement.

Barney’s waiting on me too, but I’m not nearly ready to leave this world-although I miss him so much, I have a permanent ache in my heart.

The drive to Trenary was slow going. I followed Kitty’s car in the Trouble Buster truck, which used to belong to Blaze before the department bought him a new truck and put this one on the auction block. I nabbed it for a song. The best part of the deal was the lights and sirens were still in good working order.

Cora Mae swerved down US 41 like a drunken sailor. Kitty had to be scared near to death sitting in the passenger seat next to her. Driving isn’t going to be one of Cora Mae’s top abilities, but to be fair, I had a couple of incidents when I started to drive. In fact, I rolled my Barney’s truck into a ditch and totaled it.

I’m such a good driver now, I can multitask while steering. Reaching under the seat, I pulled out my Glock and caressed it. I’d always wanted one, and here it was, resting on my lap. I considered putting it in my purse for the dance, but reluctantly rejected the idea as a bad accident waiting to happen.

Up ahead, Cora Mae steered right at a ditch, then overcorrected and aimed toward the other side of the median. I returned the Glock to the floor, turned on the truck’s lights and siren, came alongside Kitty’s Lincoln, and forced Cora Mae to a stop on the side of the road.

“Kitty,” I said, after stomping around the front of our vehicles and wrenching open the passenger door. “I’m going to have a heart attack watching this. Let’s teach Cora Mae to drive another time when we aren’t in a hurry. The dance will be over before we get there.”

“I’m just starting to get the hang of it,” Driving Momma said with some defensive huff in her voice.

“We’re out on the highway, and you’re going fifteen miles an hour in a sorry excuse for a straight line.”

Kitty’s curls bobbed to the beat while she came around the car and traded places with Cora Mae.

In spite of the initial delays, we made it to the dance in record time. Kitty’s hot foot led the way, while my truck’s lights and sirens cleared a path right down the middle of US 41.

The dance crowd had loosened up thanks to a keg of beer behind a makeshift bar in the corner of a large open room. One or two couples swung across the dance floor. Another group made up mostly of men clumped around the keg of beer. Long metal tables beside the dance floor were filled with women gossiping about this and that.

“Where are the single unattached men?” Cora Mae asked over the din, her head swiveling like a she-cat picking her night’s prey. “I don’t see a single one.”

“Focus, Cora Mae,” I said, watching her chest puff up in attack mode. “We aren’t here for the men. We’re working tonight.”

“I’ll see if I can find Tony,” she said, stalking toward the male gathering.

“Look at that woman’s walk,” Kitty said, watching her. “I should take lessons.”

“What’s our plan?” I said, studying the crowd.

“We’re winging it,” she replied. “Let’s spread out.”

Sue, the credit union manager’s wife, sat at one of the tables. She was as good a place to start as any. “Hi, Gertie,” she said when I sat down next to her. Judging by the glassy cast to her eyes, she’d had a few beers already. “Heard you were in the credit union when that robber was killed.”

I nodded. “How’s Dave doing?”

“He’s having a hard time of it. The sheriff is treating it like Dave masterminded the whole thing. Sheriff Snell is convinced he did it and has been following him around.”

The beat of the music stepped up a notch. Cora Mae swung onto the dance floor with a man I’d never seen before and did some kind of tango thing in her spiked heels. The entire room of people stopped what they were doing to watch her moves.

I had to practically shout to be heard. “I didn’t notice Dickey around tonight. Someone on the roof killed the guy who robbed the credit union. I witnessed it. Why would Dickey bothering Dave?”

I knew about the missing money, but wanted to hear her version.

“I’m surprised you don’t know, what with the gossips in this town. Some money’s missing and Dave can’t account for it. They think he stole it.”

“We all know that couldn’t be true,” I said to reassure her, even though he was the most likely candidate. I scanned Sue’s outfit—worn stretch pants, scoffed shoes, and not a bit of jewelry other than her wedding ring. If Dave stole the money, he wasn’t spending it on his wife.

Cora Mae’s theatrics and a lively song drew out a group of women. Kitty danced by, her seldom-combed-out curls formed into bouncing ringlets that reminded me of miniature slinkys.

“You help out at the credit union, right?” I had to roar over the music the DJ had cranked up several notches.

“Good thing I didn’t work yesterday.” She took a chug of beer, long and hard like she couldn’t face their problems. “I wouldn’t have been able to take it. You know, the guns and all.”

“What do you do at the credit union? I never saw you behind the counter.”

“I work in the office, doing whatever needs to be done. Why?”

“No reason,” I said. “Want another beer?”

“Sure.”

While I waited in the beer line, I thought about Dave and Sue. They’d had a shotgun wedding. Two teenagers having fun before realizing what work it could be. Three kids and fifteen years later, they were still together. Their dream, like every other parent’s around here, was a good college education for their offspring. A hundred thousand dollars certainly would go a long way.

As the path ahead of me cleared, I saw Tony and Lyla serving beer from the tapped keg. “What can I get you, Gertie?” Tony smiled. Lyla made some kind of eye motion that told me to play it cool. Don’t give her away.

“Two beers,” I replied.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Tony said. “Or my wife is going to get suspicious.”

Lyla’s eyes narrowed. “Ohhh?” she said, making it the longest word I’ve ever heard. Later tonight I expected a phone call from the Trouble Busters’ one and only client. She’d fire us if we continued to lose Tony, or kept tripping over him while trailing him. I was embarrassed, but tried not to let it show.

Tony laughed easy. “Just kidding, Lyla. Gertie was out in the woods this morning. The game warden had her treed. I see he let you go.” Tony laughed again while he poured beer into a cup. “That Rolly sure takes his job serious.”

“He’s dangerous,” I said, paying Lyla for the beers and picking them up. “See ya.” At least I wouldn’t have to worry about surveillance for awhile. My target was planted with the beer.

When I turned away, I noticed Angie Gates sitting at a table close to the keg. She was alone.

“Glad you’re out of the hospital,” I said, stopping by to be polite. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good,” she said, but she had her mind on something else. Angie checked her watch like the exact time really mattered to her.

“Meeting someone?” I said.

“No. What makes you think that?”

I shrugged. “Guess I better deliver this beer before it warms up.”

Angie had already glanced away. I moved past, then stopped to watch her. She seemed fidgety—nervous and wary. Maybe the blow to her head accounted for the edginess.

The seat where I’d left Sue was empty. I sat down, put the beers on the table, and took a sip from one. Where was Sue? Cora Mae had coaxed quite a crowd onto the dance floor, making it impossible to find anyone in the mass of humanity.

We were supposed to be interrogating suspects. Instead, Cora Mae was working everyone up to the point of collapse. How could she get any pertinent robber information out on the floor? While my eyes roamed the room without spotting my other Trouble Buster partner, someone sat down next to me. “I hope this seat isn’t taken?” my man George said.