Loose Screw (Dusty Deals Mystery) (16 page)

“I can handle it.” She gave me a wave as she left.

Alone, I dialed the number Ethel Doyle had given me. A melodious male voice answered the phone.

I introduced myself and explained my reason for calling.

“James was all right. A lot of the dealers and collectors didn’t like him, but I got along with him. You just had to take a lot of what he said with a grain of salt. I was really sorry to hear about his death.”

I made some sympathetic noises.

Redfeather continued, “On his money situation, I know he didn’t have an excess. I never knew him to buy anything at the shows except some patterns for shirts and such, from me, and those aren’t expensive.” He paused like he was thinking. “He did mention he had some kind of job coming up.”

I flipped open my notebook and began making notes. “Did it have anything to do with an auction?”

“He didn’t mention an auction. Just said he’d met someone at a show we were at in March, and that they had a big paying job for him. I got the impression it involved relics of some kind, but with Crandell you never knew when to take him serious. He could have been making the whole thing up.”

“Did he say if it was a man or a woman?”

“You mean who offered him the job? I guess I assumed it was a man.” He paused. “I don’t know that he really said. Seems like he said some guy, but I could just be remembering it that way.”

I asked a few more follow-up questions, but Redfeather didn’t seem to know anything else. After thanking him, and hanging up the phone, I paged through my notebook.

Silas was Crandell’s cousin and was being interviewed by the Helena police right now. He told Rhonda he hadn’t seen Crandell for years prior to spotting him at lunch on Monday. According to Silas, he only talked to Crandell briefly then and again, one more time, that afternoon on the phone.

According to Frankie, Crandell had picked up the medicine man set sometime after she’d left the auction office for Butte. Since her class started at 11:20, she had to have left before 10:30. Rhonda thought she saw Marie Malone arguing with Crandell sometime around 10. This made it almost impossible for him to have picked up the set before the scene outside Spirit Books.

According to Ethel Doyle and Sam Redfeather, Crandell didn’t have a lot of money or a collection of his own. Crandell told Redfeather he met someone at a show in March who offered him a well-paying job. Redfeather assumed it was a man, but wasn’t positive. Could it have been Marie Malone? Redfeather also had the impression the job involved relics, but there was no guarantee it had anything to do with Helena or the auction.

I turned to a fresh page in my notebook and jotted down what I saw as the big points:

1.) Silas was Crandell’s cousin, and he’d asked Rhonda to keep this quiet.

2.) Marie Malone lied about when she got the feather.

3.) Some unknown third person promised Crandell some kind of big money job just a few months ago.

Did any of this fit together? Or was it what it seemed, a big tangled mess of loose ends that, sewn together, created zip?

I was not inspired to start writing. I called Marcy in the hope she had new information, but she wasn’t at her desk. I pressed 0 and had her paged. After about 45 mind-numbing seconds of the Bee Gees singing “Staying Alive,” Marcy came on the line.

She gave me a quick update with no sighs; apparently our buddydom was still intact. “I got the daily statement from the police. They have Crandell’s cousin there now. Gary went down to try and get a picture.”

The official statement was pretty much the same old nothing. “We are continuing the investigation. Many new leads are being followed up on. No suspects at this time.” Why they bothered to have it typed up and handed out was a mystery to me.

Marcy had all of Silas’ vitals though. I was happy she’d handled this little detail. I could have just told her most of what she had found out, but for some reason it would have bothered me, especially since Rhonda had asked for my help. Marcy had dug up pretty much everything I knew. Well, minus the worm ranching stuff, but I thought the public’s need to know stopped somewhere short of that.

I filled Marcy in on my conversation with Ethel Doyle and Redfeather. I also confessed I’d met Silas, and that he was dating Rhonda. Thanks to our newfound friendship, she didn’t seem at all bothered I hadn’t mentioned it this morning—or maybe she just didn’t really care about anything to do with the story unless it added to her workload.

My reality wasn’t as fogged by our truce as hers seemed to be. I figured option number two nailed it.

A man came into the shop, giving me an excuse to ring off, and conveniently, he just wanted to browse. I left him alone and turned on the computer. It was four o’clock, not much time to spare. I was about halfway through my piece when Betty returned. “That dog of yours is something. I thought I was going to have to drag him outside. He refused to get up off his bed.” She shook her head.

I smiled meekly. “I’m sorry if he was a problem.”

She laughed. “Oh, he wasn’t a problem. Not once he saw me reach into that crock full of cookies. He was just raring to go. He couldn’t get outside fast enough.” She laughed again.

She had used another cookie to get him to come back in and had left him stretched out on his bed. She waved off my thanks and went to check on our customer. I went back to writing.

A half hour later, I finished. I read back through my article before emailing it to Ted. I’d included the police statement, but the focus of the story was on Silas. I read it three times to make sure I didn’t say anything that might offend Rhonda. It wasn’t just that I’d agreed to help Silas. There was also, as far as I knew, no evidence against him. Right now, he was just a bereaved cousin collecting Crandell’s effects.

The other things I’d learned were still supposition: Crandell not having money to come to Helena and getting a big job from someone he had met at a show. I hesitated over the part about Silas expecting Crandell at his house Monday night. It would be better if I could confirm that with Silas before the story ran. I logged off the Internet without sending the story and dialed Spirit Books.

After brief pleasantries with Rhonda, a weary sounding Silas came on the line. “I really don’t want to talk about all of this right now, but Rhonda told me you’re willing to help me with that weasel. I really appreciate it. I’m picking it up along with everything else tomorrow morning. Could I stop by your shop to talk then?”

“I’m really sorry about your cousin, and I know your chat with the police probably wore you out, but could you please just confirm a few things for me now?” I pleaded.

Silas agreed, and I ran the parts of my article I was concerned with by him.

“That’s all accurate. Listen, Lucy, I want to thank you for not dragging me through the mud. I know you could write something that makes for exciting news but also makes me look bad. It means a lot to me that you won’t do that.”

Hoping Rhonda was right, and there was no reason I would have to, I replied, “No problem. What time do you think you’ll be by tomorrow?”

We made plans to meet between 10 and 11. I murmured a few more niceties, and we hung up.

With my facts confirmed, I logged back onto the Internet, attached my story to a short email message, and hit the send button. When Betty squeezed behind the counter to ring up an old book for the man who’d been browsing, I took a quick look at the clock. It was almost five. Time to get ready for the bike ride.

I changed into what I hoped passed as bike gear, grabbed my dress for the jazz festival, and, with a quick wave to Betty, was off. A little exercise, some fresh air, and a chance to flirt with Gary. What better way to end my day?

Chapter 16

When I drove up, I saw Gary standing with Angie by the Cook Nook’s rear entrance. Three other people with mountain bikes were sprawled out under a small pine. I pulled into a space, got out, and proceeded to pull my bike out. I was yanking on one of the pedals when I heard Gary’s voice.

“You need some help?” He reached in beside me, easily untangled my bike, and set it on the ground. He pointed his thumb toward the Cherokee. “You should get a rack for this thing.”

“Good thought, maybe I will.” An image of the one still sitting in its box in my garage flashed through my head, but I studied the back of my rig like I’d never considered the idea before.

Gary pushed my bike as we walked toward the waiting group. “How’s the story coming?”

“Pretty good. I have a lot of leads. I just wish I had more concrete facts. Ted wasn’t too impressed today when I told him I was close.”

Gary chuckled. “He give you the bear speech?”

“Does Ted poop in the woods?”

Gary grinned, and we shared a moment of bonding.

I dropped my car keys into the pack that hung behind my bike’s seat. “Did you know Crandell’s cousin is Rhonda’s new boyfriend?”

“The little guy in the burlap shirt and ponytail?”

“That’s him. He claims he didn’t see Crandell the afternoon he was killed, but I’m not 100percent sure I believe him. I was at Rhonda’s after the murder, and Silas called. Rhonda told him about me finding the body, and he told her Crandell was his cousin, but asked her not to say anything. Do you think that’s odd?”

Gary rubbed his hand over his chest. “Well, all of Rhonda’s boyfriends are a little odd, but no, I don’t think it’s that strange. He probably wanted time to think things over before everyone descended on him. The press can be pushy, you know.” His eyes smiled. “Forget about it for a while. Maybe the ride will clear your mind.”

He handed over my bike, and I finished pushing it the few feet left to the tree. Angie sat on the grass next to her bike. As Gary introduced me, I checked out the others. A man named Kent adjusted the chain on what looked like a very expensive bicycle. He didn’t have the angled athletic look of Gary and Angie, but I could tell he was no stranger to exercise. Lynn, an attractive brunette with super short hair and the legs of a runner, grasped my hand in a firm grip. Cindy, a round blond who appeared to spend more time couch sitting than even I did, fidgeted with her helmet.

Introductions over, Angie explained the plan for the ride. “Since this is a beginner’s ride, we picked a trail we thought would be fun but not too challenging.” She smiled broadly.

Angie did her best to charm us into believing this was going to be an amusing little outing and not the pain-filled trek I dreaded. In her enthusiasm she even bounced on the balls of her feet.

God, give me strength
.

Gary broke in three bounces before I would have lost all control and wrestled our blond Tigger to the ground. “The important thing is to ask if you have questions, and don’t worry if you have a hard time keeping up. This is a beginner’s ride, not a race. We’re here to have fun.” His smile reached all the way to his eyes. If I hadn’t already felt like throwing up from nerves, my stomach would have done its usual flip-flop.

Gary strapped on his helmet. “Let’s go.”

It was smooth going at first. We cruised along Park Street heading for a trail called the “Pipeline.” It was one of a number of trails off Oro Fino Gulch, and Angie and Gary assured us it was an easy, fun ride.

Once we were past Park Street, we began to climb. Gary and Angie sped along in front, Kent and Lynn not far behind. Cindy and I struggled to keep up as we continually changed gears trying to find one that would help us make it up the steep incline. As we downshifted, I made an attempt at conversation.

“Nice ring. Is it estate jewelry?” On her finger was what looked like a diamond and ruby chip ring in a Victorian setting. It completely filled the space between her hand and knuckle.

 “I guess. Does that mean old? It was my great grandmother’s. My uncle found it a couple of months ago in a box of junk he was throwing out.”

“Wow, that’s great he gave it to you. What else did he find?” The dealer in me perked up.

“Nothing, I don’t think. There may have been some papers or something, but nothing else worth anything. I was surprised he gave me this.” Her gaze shifted to the ring. “He said I was the only girl in the family, and since I was named after Grandma, I should have it. My middle name is Ruby.”

“Ruby? You don’t mean Ruby Deere, do you?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I didn’t know her, but I guess she was a real pistol.”

“I was just looking at some books on her the other day. I own Dusty Deals, down on the Gulch.”

Cindy didn’t seem to recognize the name. She went back to flipping gears.

“And I was at the auction on Sunday, where they sold some of your grandfather’s stuff,” I continued. “Darrell was there too. Is he the uncle?”

Cindy glanced up. “That’s him. I’m surprised he was at the auction though. He doesn’t own anything older than, say, circa 1995. Another reason, I’m sure, he gave me the ring.”

“He said he was just being friendly, but I thought maybe he wanted to at least see some of his dad’s stuff or who bought it.” The hill was starting to get a little steep. I tried adjusting my own gears a bit.

Cindy took a second to answer. Her color wasn’t looking very good, and when she did answer, it was in a puff. “Well, he’s friendly, but I don’t think he could care less about Pop’s stuff. He hated all that junk, was always fussing at him when he brought home something new, or old, I guess it was.”

“Well, maybe he was just there for the friendly part then.”

“Probably.”

I let the conversation dwindle. Cindy didn’t look like she was getting enough oxygen to keep talking, and I was only a lungful or two behind her.

A few feet up the hill, Gary and Angie waited for us. “Put it into low gear,” Gary yelled. “But just one gear at a time while you let pressure off your pedals.”

What? I frantically tried another gear. The peddling was easier, but I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Cindy wasn’t having any easier of a time; she dropped a few feet behind me. After what seemed like hours, we made it the last 15 feet to where everyone else had gathered.