The Double-Jack Murders: A Sheriff Bo Tully Mystery (Sheriff Bo Tully Mysteries) (4 page)

Rose opened the door. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “Don’t know if I’ll ever do your Freezer Day again.”

Tully followed her into the kitchen and sprawled on a bench at the breakfast nook. “Who else could I get to run the pie table?”

“Sit up straight, Bo. Ever since Ginger died, your posture has gotten worse by the year. I’m making some tea. You want some?”

“Sure. You got pie to go with it?”

“You’re kidding, of course. I made it home with five different kinds: blackberry, chocolate cream, banana cream, lemon meringue, and peach. I’m keeping the peach all to myself. It’s made with canned peaches but still yummy.”

“Okay, I’ll take a slice from each of the others.”

“Pick one. You’re starting to get a belly on you.”

“No way! Besides, I’ll wear off any fat the next few days. Pap and Dave Perkins and I are going camping in the Snowies.”

Rose cut a piece of the banana cream, placed it on a saucer, and slid it in front of him. “It’s the Lucas Kincaid thing, isn’t it?”

“No! It’s just that I want to get away and relax for a while.”

Rose laughed. “You want to get away and relax and you take Pap with you! Ha!”

“I’m taking Dave, too.”

“That makes me feel a little better. Dave still pretending to be an Indian?”

“The last I heard. For some reason, he thinks if he keeps up this fraud long enough, I’ll start thinking he’s a real Indian and he can turn Dave’s House of Fry into a casino. But he’s a terrific tracker and that’s not pretend.”

Rose said, “I suspect that for all Dave’s joking around, he’s about as deadly a human being one is likely to come across. But I’ve never heard him so much as raise his voice.”

“You ever look into his eyes?” Tully asked.

“I try not to. He might get ideas.”

“What I came to tell you, Ma, is that Daisy will be spending nights with you until we get Kincaid locked up.”

“Oh, Bo, I know you don’t have any intention of locking Kincaid up. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. And I was married to Pap quite a few years. But I would enjoy having the company, if Daisy doesn’t mind. Besides, I’ve been
thinking of having a little chat with her, now that she’s divorced.”

“Divorce or no divorce, I don’t want you blabbing anything about me to her, you hear?”

“Yes, dear. What are you going to do on this camping trip, anyway?”

“I thought we’d do a little prospecting for gold,” Tully said. “You know I’ve always wanted a little gold mine.”

“Gold prospecting! Good heavens! Well, if you find any gold, first thing you do is shoot Pap in the head.”

“I don’t think my own father would steal my gold.”

“Well, shoot him in the head anyway.”

“You’re a hard woman, Rose!”

After finishing off three slices of pie and two cups of tea, Tully said good-bye to his mother and headed out to his patrol car. It was almost dark. As he started to unlock the door, he dropped his keys and bent over to pick them up. The car window exploded above his head. Seconds later, a car roared off on the side of the block behind his mother’s house.

Brian Pugh came running up. “You okay, Bo?”

Tully let out a long quavering breath. “Yeah, but it was close.”

Pugh was almost crying. “I know. I’m so sorry, Bo! I was parked down the street and he must have made me. He probably sneaked into the neighbor’s backyard behind your mom’s house.”

“I feel like a sitting duck here in town,” Tully said. “Once
I get out in the mountains, I’ll have a better chance against this maniac.”

“It won’t take long for him to hear you’re camping out in the Snowies.”

“Pugh, I think you and I could use a good stiff drink. I’ll meet you down at Crabbs Lounge in fifteen minutes.”

Pugh stared off into the distance. “I know this can’t be good.”

“You’re right about that.”

CRABBS LOUNGE WAS
empty of patrons when Tully arrived. His Freezer Day had wiped out all their usual customers. They were probably all home sucking down Alka-Seltzer. A waiter was sitting at the bar sipping a glass of beer. He made a sweeping gesture. “Help yourself, Sheriff.”

“Thanks, pardner. I’ll see if I can find an empty table.” The man looked vaguely familiar but the light was bad. When you’ve put away as many criminals as he had, you try to remember faces. Sooner or later the owners of the faces usually get out. He took a table near the back of the room. Pugh came striding in a few minutes later and sat down across from Tully.

“So what’s up, boss?”

“You’d better have a drink first.” He waved the waiter over. “I’ll take a Manhattan. What’ll you have, Brian?”

“Make mine a Manhattan, too.”

The waiter looked at Tully. “What kind of scotch do you prefer, sir?”

“Any single malt,” he said. “But it will be well scotch anyway.”

“Right,” the waiter said. “I see you’ve had drinks here before.”

He went to get their order.

“So, what brings us here, Bo?”

“It’s like this, Brian. I want you to take a little vacation.”

“I don’t like the sound of this already.”

Tully smiled. “Can’t I invite one of my favorite deputies out for a drink without him becoming suspicious? I guess not. First of all, let me ask this. Do you have any decent camo hunting clothes?”

Pugh stared at him. “This sounds worse all the time. Yeah, I bought some RealTree last fall.”

“Excellent.”

The waiter brought their drinks. “In honor of the Bo Tully Freezer Day, the bartender actually used some of his Bushmills.”

“Thanks. Tell him I appreciate it.”

The waiter smiled and left. Tully searched his memory for a name but couldn’t come up with one.

“Go on,” Pugh said.

“Here’s my idea, Brian. I want you to go hunting.”

“I’m way ahead of you on that, Bo. You want me to go into the mountains and hunt down Kincaid.”

“You’re awfully quick, Brian. I ever tell you that?”

“No, not that I can recall.”

Tully smiled. “It’s a bit more complicated. Kincaid is out to get me, if the event tonight is any indication. So I have let it be known around town that I’m going to be camped out on Deadman Creek for a week. Kincaid won’t have any trouble coming across that bit of information. So I have calculated that will put him in the area of the campsite on Deadman. I need you to be up there waiting for him.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the best hunter and the best shot in the department, that’s why.”

“And?”

Tully hesitated. “And you don’t have a wife or children. Let’s face it, Brian, you are expendable.”

Pugh sighed. “I have an ex. That should count for something. Ernie Thorpe doesn’t even have an ex. Why not him?”

“Ernie doesn’t have your experience. Besides that, he’s young and good looking and deserves a chance at life. Kincaid would kill him right off, and you know it.”

Pugh gave a little laugh. It had a bitter edge to it. “And you think he won’t kill me?”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take. Hey, Brian, I’m using myself to lure him into range. All you have to do is shoot him.”

“I hear he’s like a wild animal when he’s out there in the mountains.”

“That’s right, he is. So that’s how you hunt him, like he’s
a rank old buck deer. Take it very slow and easy. Stop and listen every few steps. Don’t make a move until you’ve checked out the next few yards.”

Pugh laughed again. “You make it sound interesting, Bo. I notice you left out the part about rank old buck deer generally showing up unarmed.”

“Picky, picky,” Tully said. “You know that ridge that overlooks the campsite. That would be the best place for Kincaid to take a shot at me. If I were you, I’d watch that ridge. Oh, I forgot to mention that you can put all your expenses on your county credit card. Just don’t go hog wild.”

“I have to think about it, Bo. I’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

“That’s too late. I need to know now. How about another drink?”

“Sure. But I’ll still let you know in a couple of days.”

Tully waved the waiter over. “I’m heading up to Deadman tomorrow. I’ll expect you to make the right decision, Pugh.”

AT SIX SHARP
in the morning, Tully pulled up and stopped his twenty-year-old 4x4 Ford pickup truck in the paved driveway of Pap’s mansion on the hill. He honked the horn, even though the old man was seated on the porch in his Adirondack chair, rocking furiously. Deedee, Pap’s young and gorgeous housekeeper, waved at him out the kitchen window, the main reason Tully had honked the horn. He gave her a big smile and waved back. Pap stalked down off the porch carrying a pack, his gold dredge, and other odds and ends. He threw them under the pickup’s canopy, then went back and got hip boots and a rifle. He put the boots under the canopy, then got in the cab. He stood the rifle upright between his knees.

“That thing loaded?” Tully asked.

“You bet. A gun ain’t much use unloaded. Just one time in your life, Bo, I’d like you to show up when you say you’re going to show up. I should know better but I’ve been waiting out on that porch for over an hour, freezing my butt off the whole while. I see you brought along your dog.”

Clarence growled at him.

“Growl at me, you little mutt, and I’ll pinch your head off.”

Clarence stopped growling and lay his head down on his paws.

“I see you’re in your usual chipper mood,” Tully said.

“You should be glad I’m going along to watch your back,” Pap said. “You can bet I’ll do a better job of it than Pugh did.”

“How did you know about Pugh?”

“He called me up last night and told me what happened. You should of knowed Kincaid would stake out your mom’s house. Just because he’s crazy don’t mean he’s dumb.”

Tully backed out of the driveway. “I’m surprised you care. You must be getting soft in your old age.”

“I don’t care. But it’s embarrassing for folks to think my own son ain’t any smarter than that. They’ll think it’s the way I raised you.”

“And here you didn’t raise me at all. Now fasten that seat belt.”

“Folks don’t know that.” He fussed with the seat belt. “I hate these miserable things. In a wreck, the only thing they do is make the bodies easier to find.”

Tully reached over and snapped the buckle shut. He had never known an old person who could fasten a seat belt.
Maybe it was because most of their lives, cars didn’t come with seat belts.

“Forget about Kincaid,” he said. “We’ll stop in Famine and pick up Dave, and the three of us will camp out in the Snowies and do some fishing and gold prospecting.”

He glanced at Pap. The old man had taken a little white paper from a package, dumped some tobacco in it, and started rolling himself a cigarette. “No smoking in the vehicle! I’ve told you that a hundred times!” He backed the truck out of Pap’s driveway and headed down the street to the highway.

Pap finished rolling his cigarette and punched in the lighter on the dashboard. “What was you saying? I was so busy rolling myself a cigarette I missed it.” The lighter popped out and he lit his cigarette. He blew a plume of smoke at Tully. “You know, it’s kind of a miracle, a truck this old and its lighter still works.”

“Good point. Maybe it will accidentally become disconnected.”

Pap sucked thoughtfully on his cigarette, then said, “If we pick up Dave, where’s he going to sit? On top of the dog?”

“No, I thought we’d stop at Batim Scragg’s ranch first and I’d make him a little present of Clarence. Every ranch needs a good dog.”

Pap laughed. “You’re hard, Bo, truly hard. You put the man’s two sons in prison, a reasonable person might think that’s enough grief for him, but now you intend to give him this mean little critter to make him suffer some more.”

“Being a man of profound ignorance, Pap, you might
leap to that conclusion. But I’ve spent a good deal of time studying both Clarence and Batim, and I’ve arrived at the opinion they are both basically of the same character. I suspect they’ll enjoy each other’s company.”

“Ha! Clarence bites Batim just once, the old man will shoot him!”

“What’s your point?”

An hour later they drove through the little town of Famine. Tully knew that in addition to Batim Scragg’s two sons he probably could have put half the town in prison for its part in the same marijuana enterprise. On the other hand, prison would have improved the Faminites’ social standing to such a degree he thought it best to let matters remain as they had been for the last hundred years. He couldn’t stand the thought of them putting on airs.

Pap studied the various residents they passed. “This is Kincaid’s hometown. You figure he’s holed up here someplace?”

Tully shook his head. “Naw, he no doubt visits from time to time, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a camp up in the mountains someplace. He probably comes in to resupply from time to time, but there’s no chance anyone here would squeal on him. Kincaid isn’t the kind of person you want to get on the bad side of.”

“You mean like throwing him in prison?”

“Something like that.”

They pulled into the Scraggs’ as Batim was walking across the barnyard with a bucket in each hand. “Howdy, Bo. Pap. You fellas showed up just in time to see my new piggies.”

“Piggies?” Tully said, thinking of toes and how gross Batim’s must be.

“I love baby pigs!” Pap said. “There ain’t nothing cuter than a baby pig. It’s about the only animal I have any affection for. Shoot, after I’ve watched baby pigs for a while I don’t eat bacon for a month.”

“I don’t believe it,” Tully said. “Your one weakness is baby pigs?”

“Yep. They’re about as cute a critter as you are ever likely to see. Lead the way, Batim.”

The pen had about a dozen little pink sausages running every which way, with several of them nursing on their humongous mother, who lay on her side staring forlornly at the side of her pen. I’m with you, Mama, Tully thought.

Pap was delighted. “Look at that little guy playing with a piece of straw! Ain’t that the cutest thing you ever saw!”

“This is a whole new side of you I never even suspected,” Tully said.

Batim said, “I got to agree with you, Pap. I’m mighty fond of baby pigs myself.”