Stiffs and Swine (25 page)

Three men bustled around two large grills. Neither of the cookers were the commercial-sized grills that Jimmy possessed and the Marrow Men seemed to have reached a crucial moment in their preparation. James found it challenging to pay any attention to their equipment once he noticed that the pieces of meat the Marrow Men were placing on the grill racks came from a Ziploc bag inside a cooler. The chunks had a pink hue resembling lamb, but James didn’t think he recognized the type of raw meat at all.

Apparently, Deputy Neely, who stood behind the shoulder of one of the Marrow Men, was also fascinated by the unidentified hunks of meat. He put his hands on his slim hips, bent over the grill, and casually asked, “So, none of y’all have seen Mitch all day?”

The man retrieving the meat from the cooler frowned. “Look, we told you already. We haven’t seen Mitch and he didn’t travel with his own grill. He always used ours. He told us that he had a boring office job pushing papers, and that’s all he ever said about his work. We were grilling buddies, dude. That’s it. We hung out a few times a year and tried to win some contests.” He gestured at his companions. “We like beer, women, and meat. We don’t talk about much else. That’s the whole point of gettin’ together—to have fun and forget about our lives for a little bit.”

Neely scrutinized the remaining three Marrow Men as though weighing the truth of these words, but they met his gaze unblinkingly. After a few uncomfortable seconds, two of them resumed brushing sauce over the meat on the grill while the third forced pieces of the cubed meat onto bamboo skewers.

“Is that lamb or veal or somethin’?” Neely inquired, unable to quell his curiosity.

“It’s goat,” one of the men answered curtly and then noticed James and his friends staring. “You wanna ask us questions, too?”

James shook his head and Gillian took a few steps backward, obviously uninterested in getting a closer look at the Marrow Men’s preparations. “Um,” James stammered. “We just wanted to see what folks were cooking for the Anything Butt category. I can’t say that I’ve ever had goat before. How are you going to prepare it?”

“Gotta use mesquite wood chips, for starters,” the Marrow Man replied. “Then we season the meat with salt, pepper, and garlic. We’re going to use a curry yogurt sauce to give it a bit of an Indian flavor. It’s real good. Lots of folks turn their noses up at goat, but it’s a real nice meat if you don’t overcook it.”

“Do you know if anyone else is cooking goat?” Lucy inquired as she eyed the Marrow Men’s cooler.

“Don’t think so,” the man replied as he deftly turned the skewers. “One of the teams is usin’ venison, and I think the Tenderizers are usin’ scallops. The Adam’s Ribbers are goin’ with rabbit, and Jimmy’s girl claims to be usin’ coon, but I think that’s just big talk to draw attention to her, just like her old man used to do.”

James and his friends exchanged looks of disgust.

“Did Hailey and Mitch know each other?” James couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Not that I ever knew. Sure never saw ’em talk to each other. Now can ya’ll give us some breathin’ room?” The Marrow Man threw irritated looks at Neely and the supper club members. “We’re tryin’ to win a contest here.”

“Absolutely. Sorry,” Lindy answered. “And good luck to you and your team.”

As they moved away from the fragrant smell of the roasting goat, Bennett said, “You’re not gonna like me sayin’ this, Gillian, but I’m feelin’ peckish all of a sudden.”

“Oh, Bennett.” She rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe your appetite can be so
active
in this setting.”

“Well, I need a snack and that’s that,” Bennett replied tersely. “It doesn’t have to be meat, but nothin’s gonna be open in town on a Sunday, so I think we’re stuck with fair food.”

“I can’t take anything fried, stuck on a stick, or covered in powdered sugar!” Lucy declared.

“Hey! I saw a place by the community center that sold chilled watermelon wedges,” Lindy suggested. “Since it’s gotten so hot again today, it might be nice to have something naturally sweet.”

Everyone agreed on a snack of watermelon slices, and Lindy led her friends through the milling crowds to a small stand with a red, white, and green-striped awning. After each of them paid for two thick slices of watermelon and collected a handful of napkins, the five friends decided to sit on the grass away from the throng of people.

“So, I guess the sheriff’s department isn’t exactly inept,” James said and then bit off the tip of his first piece of watermelon.

“No one thought they were,” Lucy replied defensively. “We just don’t
know
what they’ve investigated, and they don’t feel like sharing information with me anymore. I think the discovery of the drugs changed things. Now they’ve got a murder
and
illegal drug dealing going on, and the clock is really ticking for them.”

“Have the Fitzgerald twins gotten back to you yet?” Bennett asked James.

“Oh!” James exclaimed, reaching for his phone. “I turned it off out of habit. They could have called and I wouldn’t have known.”

They all listened with watermelon slices held in the air as James’s phone chirped into life. The black text appearing on the silvery screen indicated that he had one new message waiting. James set the complicated phone to its speaker option, placed it on the ground, and waved at his friends to scoot closer.

“You figured out how to get that on speaker mode?” Gillian was impressed. “I’m lucky if I can answer a call with mine. These machines are
so
complex.”

“Don’t credit me,” James answered. “The twins showed me how to use all the features I thought I’d need. I’m hopeless with most technical gadgets. Here we go.” He pressed several buttons and Francis’s energetic voice emitted from the phone.

“Professor? Scott and I think we discovered something that you might find pretty interesting. We did a Google search on Mitch Walker from San Antonio, Texas. There were a couple of them, but we were able to narrow them down by cross-referencing the info we learned about Mitch by visiting a bunch of barbecue festival websites. Still, there’s not much on cyberspace about this guy. It’s not like he’s got his own website or anything.”

There was a pause, and James rolled his eyes and said, “Those two have a flair for the dramatic.”

Francis finally continued. “We think Jimmy was partnered with Mitch Walker in regards to the laced marijuana. See, Mitch works for Sunset Gardens in San Antonio. That’s a mortuary, Professor. Mitch was listed on their website’s staff page as an assistant mortician. You see what that means, Professor? If Mitch works at a funeral home, then he’s got access to formaldehyde.”

“Bingo! You’ve got your bad guy number two!” Scott shouted with exuberance as he grabbed the phone from his brother. “Now all you’ve got to do is figure out where they bought the pot. Unless Jimmy had a giant greenhouse or a big piece of land, they bought it somewhere cheap, like Mexico.”

“How do you know Mexico has cheap pot?” Francis demanded in the background and Scott answered his brother, completely forgetting that he was leaving a message on his boss’s phone. “I researched it, bro. I went to a bunch of government sites and checked out filed newspaper stories and recent DEA busts … oh, sorry, Professor. That’s all we’ve got on Mitch. Call us if you need more info. We’re ready and waiting to—” At that point, the time allotment given for individual messages on James’s phone expired and Scott was cut off.

James closed his phone and held it in his palm.

“I think Mitch is Jimmy’s partner
and
his killer,” Lucy declared. “James, when you saw the two of them arguing that first night it must have been over the drugs.”

“I agree,” James said. “Jimmy has gone to several festivals without Mitch this year. He was able to buy that big RV and squirrel some extra cash away. I think he’s been stiffing Mitch and Mitch decided to get his revenge by poisoning Jimmy with the propane. Then, he planned to take all of the drugs for himself, but we interrupted him.”

“And if there’s cash
inside
the camper, he couldn’t search for it the night he killed Jimmy because Gillian was sitting on the camper steps. Gillian, your being there also kept Mitch from getting into the cooker,” Lucy stated. “And who else but a partner in crime would know the drugs were hidden in that secret compartment?”

“Well, if the drugs
did
come from Mexico,” Lindy began and then paused to delicately remove a black seed from the tip of her tongue, “that’s probably where Mitch is by now.”

Gillian closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, he’s close. I
truly
sense that he didn’t leave. I think he’s too angry.”

“But that’s crazy, woman!” Bennett practically dropped his slice. “The law from two counties is after that pasty-skinned fool. Why would he still be here?”

“He’s got too much to lose,” Lucy answered, her eyes distant. “I’ve got a strong hunch that Gillian’s right, though I’m not sure what his plan is.”

“But the drugs have been seized,” James mused aloud. “So what does he stand to gain by taking this huge risk?” He rubbed his finger on the smooth, green rind in his hand. “I doubt he’d risk prison just to tell a bunch of kids to meet him in North Carolina in a few weeks.”

“For a hundred bucks an ounce, he just might,” Bennett said.

The group fell silent. They finished eating their watermelon and tried to clean their sticky hands with their napkins, but bits of paper clung stubbornly to their fingertips. Lindy sifted through her bag and came out with a package of wet wipes.

Accepting a towelette, Bennett grinned. “I guess there’s somethin’ to be said for overpacking.”

“It’s called being prepared,” Lindy snapped and then puffed out her cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just that I don’t like the way things are ending up. We’ve always stumbled upon the answers in time, but I’m worried that the bad guy is going to get away. We only have a few hours left.”

Lucy stood, collected all the garbage, and walked off to a nearby trash can. When she returned, she didn’t sit back down. Instead, she paced around her circle of friends as though engaged in a game of duck, duck, goose. “We need more evidence linking Jimmy and Mitch to the drugs.” She stopped and looked at James. “Do you think there’s anything to the Fitzgeralds’ idea about Mexico? I mean, San Antonio isn’t that far from there.”

James shrugged. “Those boys are pretty smart, but even if the pot came from south of the border, we can’t ask Hailey if Jimmy liked to take international road trips. She’s in the middle of the Anything Butt judging.”

“I doubt Big Jimmy would have told her anyway,” Bennett added. “She seemed to be in the dark about his sideline business.”

“Wait a minute!” James slapped himself in the forehead. “Murphy left me a bunch of papers and one of them had the name and home phone number of Jimmy’s boss. Maybe he could tell us more about what Jimmy did with his free time.”

“Why would this guy bother telling you anything?” Lindy was dubious.

James put his hand out and patted the ground next to him. Perplexed, Lucy sat down. “Because. He thinks he’s going to be in Murphy’s next book and if I pretend to be her assistant, he’ll tell me anything I want to know.”

“She’s writing books?” Gillian seemed impressed. “What kind of books?”

James looked at Bennett in appeal. His friend held out his hands and said, “It’s all you, man. Better get it over with.”

“Um. She’s written a thriller. Or maybe two, I don’t know.” He shifted nervously. “The thing is that they’re loosely based on, um, they’re about …” He trailed off, his mouth going dry. He swallowed hard and spluttered, “Murphy’s books are based on us.”

James wanted to call Jimmy’s boss immediately, but his phone battery had run low and the reception on Lucy’s was less than ideal. Therefore, James asked the receptionist at the community center for the use of an office and permission to make a long-distance phone call. After getting the okay from R. C. via walkie-talkie, the woman showed them into a small office and told them to make themselves comfortable.

As James settled onto the swivel chair behind the tidy wooden desk, he noticed that only Bennett would make eye contact with him. All three of his female friends were still grappling with the news that their lives were about to become works of fiction. So far, their initial reaction seemed to be that of mistrust. This was unsurprising, as Murphy hadn’t always painted them in the rosiest of colors in her past articles.