Murder Grins and Bears It (25 page)

So I knew what I was looking at even though
I’d only seen pictures.

Right before my eyes, shining in a
brand-spanking-new sort of way, were cases and cases of Uzi-like
machine guns.

Not toy guns like little tykes play
shoot-‘em-up with.

These were the real McCoy.

My best guess was that they were not
registered and certainly illegal.

I thought about dumping the van in the woods
and running for the hills, just as I knew I’d have to if the boxes
had contained toys. If my grandson hadn’t been in the middle of
this mess, I might have done exactly that.

About now, I’d settle for a truck full of
birds. Better yet, a nice game of four-cornered bingo with the
seniors at the community center. Blaze’s rage when he found out
about the hijacked van seemed like a piece of rhubarb pie compared
to what the owner of this shipment would feel when he found out his
van was missing, along with all his machine guns. Ted Latvala and
his band of thugs would be on my trail like a disturbed hive of
angry bees on a dog’s back.

No wonder the warden had been killed. He’d
discovered the machine guns. And Little Donny had to be eliminated,
too. He knew who did it.

Fingers of fear gripped my chest and
squeezed until I reminded myself that Little Donny needed me to be
strong. It was my most obvious and glaring characteristic, one some
people have criticized me for. Tough as wood screws. Strong as
plastic wrap. Or as Blaze likes to say, as unrelenting as
mosquitoes at a picnic.

Calm down, I said to myself, encouragingly.
This isn’t so bad.

With any luck, the driver wouldn’t remember
what hit him or who threw him out of his truck. I tried to recall
if I’d seen recognition in his eyes while we were going through the
whole zapping thing, but I’d been busy steering and figuring out
how to take his truck away.

Okay, here’s my new revised plan, simple and
guaranteed to work.

I’d drive back to the restaurant and pick up
Fred. Then I’d turn the van over to Blaze and explain everything.
Even if he didn’t believe me he’d have to acknowledge a truck full
of guns. Ted Latvala wouldn’t have time for retribution. He
wouldn’t know what was coming his way until it was too late.

I was in the driver’s seat again in more
ways than one.

If this all worked out, along with giving up
sugar doughnuts, I promised I’d also change my ways.

I’d take the driving test and start
observing the law like everybody else.

I’d figure out a way to get along with Blaze
and I’d spend more time in the kitchen working on recipes for my
future cookbook.

If this all worked out, I’d stay out of
trouble.

I promised.

chapter 20

Fred was helping Ruthie in the kitchen when
I rushed in. He was checking the floor for cleanliness and lapping
up any stray tidbits before they went to waste in Ruthie’s
dustpan.

“
I thought he’d rather stay
in here,” she said. “He didn’t like the car.”

“
The health inspector will
close you down if he sees Fred in your kitchen,” I
warned.

“
No one’s around right now.
Mondays are always slow. Besides, the howling going on outside
would have drawn the fire department if all the volunteers weren’t
at the funeral. Fred sounds just like the siren they use to call in
help when a fire breaks out.”

I shook my head. “Anyone who has a house
fire during hunting season or during a wedding or funeral is out of
luck,” I said. “Can I use your phone?”

“
Help yourself.”

While I dialed Blaze’s office, Fred stuck
his head in the garbage to make sure Ruthie wasn’t frivolously
throwing away perfectly good food. He came up with several
questionable items and gave them the taste test.

“
Thanks for watching him. I
owe you one,” I said, when no one answered. I hustled Fred out to
the van. He hopped into the passenger seat, his red eyes staring
straight ahead in anticipation of our next journey. He thought this
was all great fun.

Car rides, free food, new tires to explore.
What could be better?

I started the motor but before I could pull
out of the parking lot, a cell phone on the dashboard rang. Because
I’m not one of those people who can drive and talk on a phone at
the same time, I braked, picked it up, and read the incoming number
illuminated on a tiny screen.

I didn’t recognize the number.

It rang eight times. Then it stopped. I
stared at it. Then it began to ring again.

If the driver didn’t answer, would Latvala
know something was wrong? Did they have a prearranged signal to
warn them of trouble?

I studied the phone’s keypad and wondered
which button would turn the phone on. Heather and Star had cell
phones but I never felt I needed one, so my knowledge was
limited.

On the sixth ring, I figured it out and
answered in the gruffest, lowest voice I could manage. “Yah,” I
said, briskly, holding the miniature phone to my ear.

“
You’ve made a deadly
mistake,” a man said on the other end, slowly accentuating each
syllable so I couldn’t possibly misunderstand him.

I didn’t know what to say, just continued to
hold the phone to my ear. That turned out okay because he didn’t
care about a titillating two-way conversation.

“
One word of this to
anyone,” he said. “And you can start planning a funeral for a loved
one,” he said.

Continuing my best male imitation I said,
“Are you threatening me?”

“
No,” he said. “I’m
suggesting a trade. The van and all its contents for a
life.”

Trade? Who was he talking about? Cora Mae
and Kitty were at the funeral. Little Donny and Blaze were killing
time at the jail. If he had Grandma Johnson he would have let her
go the minute she opened her mouth and started crabbing. Or he
would have shot her on the spot.

He was bluffing.

“
You’re bluffing,” I
said.

“
This is between me and you
and no one else. Here’s what you’re going to do…”

I frowned in frustration because this wasn’t
working out exactly as planned. I had to maintain control. Who did
he think he was, anyway? I had the power seat and I wasn’t giving
it up to some two-bit weapons dealer.

“
You’re all done dancing,”
I said, interrupting him, taking my stance. “You better turn
yourself in. I’m taking the truck to the sheriff as we
speak.”

He laughed. “That’s a good idea. I’ll call
you back.” And he hung up.

Not only did I have the truck filled with
machine guns as proof of an illegal gun ring, but I also knew the
identity of the caller.

I dug in my weapons purse and pulled out my
micro-recorder. After rewinding it, I punched the play button and
listened to the tape I’d made the day I went to Marquette.

He’d tried to disguise his voice by speaking
slowly, but I’d picked up on it in spite of his efforts.

The stutter.

I only had to listen to the tape for a few
seconds to be sure.

The two voices, the one on my player and the
one on the cell phone, were identical.

No question about it.

The caller was Warden Burnett.

I swung out of the parking lot and headed
for the local jail, where I hoped to find Blaze.

Maybe Burnett and Latvala started out
trafficking in illegal raptors. Then they moved to something more
lucrative. Machine guns. An honest warden had stumbled on the
scheme. Burnett tried to dissuade him in what he thought was a
reasonable way. We’ll count you in, he’d probably said. But Warden
Hendricks took his job seriously. When Burnett realized that his
efforts were wasted on Hendricks, he decided to kill him.

The idea came to him as they argued over
Carl’s doughnut heap.

Burnett saw Little Donny’s rifle leaning
against the tree and no one else at the bait pile.

A perfect opportunity. He didn’t even have
to use the gun in his holster.

What luck.

Except Little Donny popped out of his
slumber chamber after the thunderous explosion, dodged a round of
bullets, and escaped into the backwoods with the image of the
killer seared in his memory.

Or so Burnett would have thought.

Burnett had been wearing coveralls over his
uniform. He chased after Little Donny just like my grandson
described, taking Carl’s bow and arrows along. But Little Donny had
vanished.

When the Detroit boys encountered him before
the shooting, he was dressed in his brown uniform, so he must have
changed into the coveralls after he passed their bail pile. His
mind really wasn’t on arresting the Smith brothers. He had another
more important mission.

Afterwards, in his rush, he left the ATV on
the side of the road rather than take the time to load it on his
truck bed. He probably planned to pick it up later. He would have
driven north, the direction he had seen Little Donny running.

And he would have tried to head him off.

Maybe he waited in the deep woods for a long
time before Billy Lundberg stumbled along wearing Little Donny’s
ball cap.

Burnett, relieved that the only witness had
been eliminated, didn’t find out until later that he’d murdered the
wrong man.

Either he forgot the ATV or he thought it
was risky to go back for it.

The only unexplained question involved the
dead warden, Hendricks. How did he get to the bait pile if he
wasn’t with Burnett, and if his car was found in Marquette?

Everything else fit together perfectly.

And I had Burnett cold. I could wrap this
case up in the next twenty minutes.

I took my foot off the brake and headed
out.

****

At first I thought he was dead.

But when I rolled him over onto his back, he
groaned.

His pulse was steady and strong but he had a
lump on the back of his head the size of an ostrich egg.

I picked up the phone on the desk and called
home. Heather answered.

“
Blaze is hurt,” I said.
“Call an ambulance and come over to the jail. Bring Star for
support if she’s home.”

“
What’s happened?” she
asked.

“
I don’t have time to
explain. Go in my closet. There’s a shoebox on the floor. Inside
you’ll find Grandma’s .38 revolver. There’s a box of ammunition in
my night stand.” I pulled Blaze’s firearm from his holster. “I
don’t think he’ll feel like chasing bad guys, but if he comes
around and insists, he’ll need a weapon.”

Blaze’s handgun felt heavy in my fist. It
was a Glock. I always wanted one of these. Now I had one.

I looked at the empty jail cell where Little
Donny had slept the night before.

Fred howled from the van.

Anyone else coming on this scene would jump
to the wrong conclusion. They would think Little Donny had escaped
after attacking his own uncle.

I grabbed the bedsheet from the cell cot and
ran for the van.

“
Now do you believe me?”
Burnett said when he called back.

I was already on my way to Latvala’s but I
didn’t want him to know that. If I was wrong about their
location…well…I couldn’t even imagine it.

“
Where is he?” I demanded,
abandoning the husky voice.

“
Safe,” he said. “For
now.”

“
What do you
want?”

“
Weren’t you listening? I
want the van.”

If he got the van, no way was he going to
let Little Donny go free. Or me, for that matter. Little Donny
might already be dead.

“
I want to speak with him,”
I said in a tone of voice that I hoped commanded
attention.

He hesitated and my heart skipped a
beat.

I heard murmuring in the background, then
Little Donny came on the line. I jammed a knuckle in my mouth to
keep from crying.

“
I’m okay,” he said. “All
he wants is the van and then he’ll let me go.”

He
.
He would have said
they
if more than one person was guarding him at the moment. Little
Donny was alone with the warden.

“
Where are you?”

But he was gone from the phone.

“
You have twenty minutes to
meet me,” Burnett said. “And come alone. If I see anyone else, he
dies.”

“
Where?”

He gave me directions to an isolated stretch
of gravel road between Stonely and Marquette. I had to have more
time.

“
I need an
hour.”

“
No way.”

“
I need to stop for gas
and-”

“
Thirty minutes.” He hung
up.

I had a slight advantage because I knew who
he was. He wouldn’t count on that.

What was Burnett doing to Little Donny right
now? If I was a black-hearted killer what would my next move
be?

I’d finish off Little Donny now that his
grandmother knew he was alive, and I’d ambush the van in a desolate
area where no one would stumble along and witness my next move —
which would be to kill its driver.

I had no intention of meeting Burnett on his
terms. Crevice Road was my target, and I had to get there fast
before he could carry out his plan to harm Little Donny and leave
there to meet me.

The funeral home appeared in view ahead of
me. I must have been traveling at a hundred miles an hour when I
blew by. Cora Mae, Kitty, and Grandma were out in the parking lot,
wandering around, searching for Kitty’s car. Other mourners were
filing out of the building, shaking hands and hugging each
other.

I wanted to stop and pick up Cora Mae and
Kitty but I couldn’t spare an extra second. Besides, I couldn’t
deal with Grandma Johnson right now.