Laura blinked in surprise. “You offered him the Porsche?”
“I had to. I was desperate.” Skell massaged his temples with both hands in memory of that headache. “I was afraid to go home—afraid Bratson would send some goons to rough me up. And I was afraid if I came over here, they’d follow me and—I didn’t know what they might do.”
He stopped and stared into the futility of that evening. “I never thought they’d hurt Daddy.”
“We don’t know that they did,” I reminded him.
“Who else would? Everybody loved him. He was great—”
“Finish your story, honey. Just finish your story.”
“I spent Friday night parked in one of Ridd’s cornfields down by your place, figuring nobody would look there. I drove up the road to Spence’s place early Saturday, but Maynard’s car wasn’t there, so I decided he must be staying over at his new place. I didn’t want to ruin the wedding, so I lay low until it was over; then I tackled him again before they left. You were there, Mac. You know.”
I nodded.
“By then, I’d had time to think, and I was scared something might happen to Maynard and Selena if Bratson’s folks caught them driving the Beamer. For all I knew, his pals were watching all roads out of town. When Maynard wouldn’t take the Porsche, I decided I’d have to follow them and try to keep them safe.”
“Just like that,” I said. “You’d go down to Orlando, find two honeymooners out of the entire city, and guard them for a week. Did you plan to share their room?”
“I didn’t plan anything, I just knew I didn’t want them getting hurt. We sold them that car, and MacDonald’s takes care of its customers.”
Laura’s eyes met mine, equally astonished at the thoroughness of Skell’s conversion.
He was too deep in his story to notice us. “I followed them far enough to see that nobody seemed to be tracking them, and that they were heading toward I-95. Then I doubled back to the dealership. I was going to ask you for cash, Sissy—my credit cards are all maxed out, and I didn’t have enough money for the trip. But you weren’t there—I didn’t see a soul, in fact. So I went into Daddy’s office and took what I needed.”
“Not bothering to write a note,” she pointed out, not crediting him with sainthood yet.
“I couldn’t find a pen in his desk, and I was in a hurry to catch Maynard before Bratson’s men got on his tail.”
“It didn’t occur to you to call afterwards to say you were leaving town and taking the money?”
“I tried calling, but you weren’t at the dealership—the salesman who answered said you’d gone home for something. I sure wasn’t going to call there and risk getting Daddy.”
“You couldn’t,” she reminded him. “I’d gone home because Isaac James called and told me to go home to be with Mama—they’d just found Daddy’s body.”
Skell pounded the chair arm in frustration. “Don’t!”
She sighed. “Okay, but I wish you’d been here. It’s been rough on Mama. Having you here would have made it a little easier. And you didn’t
call.”
“You’ve played that theme already. I’ll try to make it up to Mama. I really will. Right then, all I could think of was catching Maynard and Selena. I drove like a wild man, but he’s fast, too. I didn’t catch them until well past Brunswick. By then I’d thought about poor Marvin, and how I’d forgotten to feed him that morning. My phone was in my jacket, which was in the backseat, so I couldn’t reach it until they stopped for dinner. By then we were in the middle of God only knows where, and the call got dropped. I needed to grab something to eat and get back to the parking lot before they came out, so I hurried to the john, then grabbed a table near the door and ordered something I could eat fast. I figured I’d call you again when I got back on the road. That’s when I realized I’d left the phone on the counter in the john after I washed my hands.”
“That’s three in one year, Skell. You’ve got to—”
I held up a hand to stop her. “Let him finish, honey. You didn’t think Maynard and Selena would be all right once they got out of town, Skell?” I felt very old and stodgy listening to his adventures. I’d have been ready to turn around after I saw them safe as far as Brunswick, and come home to bed.
“I didn’t know what to think.” His voice rose in desperation. “But that car had come up from Miami through a lot in Orlando. I was afraid whoever put those drugs in the car was still down there, and might recognize it.”
“Somebody did,” I affirmed. “The police got a tip-off about the drugs the very next morning.” I was about to add “and arrested Maynard and Selena,” but Skell was already talking.
“That was me.” He dismissed that incident with the wave of one who has done something clever but refuses to be praised. “I’d had a hell of a night. I don’t know how detectives do stakeouts, because hotel security booted me out less than thirty minutes after I started lurking in Maynard’s hall. So I parked my car near theirs and tried every trick in the book to stay awake watching it, but I kept falling asleep. I hadn’t slept much the night before,” he added defensively. “About five I woke and saw two guys lounging over at the edge of the lot, eying the Beamer. They could have just been interested, or they could have been regular thieves, but I was afraid they could be Bratson’s people. I was so scared, I nearly wet my pants. I realized I could never keep watch all week. I’d have to sleep sometime. And even if I caught Bratson’s men near the car, what could I do then? I’m no television hero. I couldn’t think of a single way to keep Maynard safe until I realized if the police had the car, Bratson would have no reason to go after him. So I went to a pay phone in the hotel and tipped them off about drugs in the car.”
I choked on my coffee. Laura asked in a disbelieving voice, “You put Maynard and Selena in jail to keep them safe?”
“I didn’t think the police would
arrest
them,” he said hotly. “I figured Maynard would tell them he’d just bought the car Friday, produce the sales papers that were probably still in it, and the police would take away the car and call MacDonald’s. I knew at that point Daddy would have to know what was going on, but I figured he’d know what to do.”
“Bratson had already threatened to swear in court your Daddy knew about the drugs,” I reminded him.
He sighed in utter weariness. “Look, I didn’t think of everything, okay? I was going on sleep deprivation at that point. I’d done what I could, and was ready to let Daddy take it from there. All I could think of was how to get rid of that car so Bratson’s folks would write it off as lost and lose interest in Maynard and Selena.”
“That logic may be hard for you to explain to Maynard and Selena,” I warned. “They’re out on bail—Walker went down and took care of that—but you’d better plan on going back with them to testify in their defense.”
“Of course.”
Had I ever been that young? I’d certainly never gotten through life on money, good looks, and charm, as Skell had. He could be about to find out the limits of how far they could take him.
Laura rose to refill our cups. From the slump of her shoulders, I saw she was still, to some measure, carrying her little brother’s burdens. But she was also upset enough with him to turn and demand, “So you got Maynard and Selena safely tucked away in jail on what—Sunday morning? Why didn’t you come back home then? Or at least call?”
He shrugged. “Look, I didn’t know there was anything wrong here, and I was dead tired. I’d saved Maynard and Selena, hadn’t I? All I could think about was crashing. I slept twenty-four hours. Then I went out and bought some clean clothes, and as long as I was in Orlando, I figured I deserved some R and R. It had been a while since I saw Mickey Mouse, so I went to renew our acquaintance.” He gave her his old saucy grin, then saw that Laura wasn’t thrilled with his explanation. He added defensively, “And I did call almost as soon as I woke up—I left a message on your phone.” When she still didn’t answer, he muttered, “I wanted you to square things with Daddy.”
“Which I couldn’t,” she replied with a fierceness that surprised him and me both, “because all the time you were fighting with Maynard, hiding in Mac’s cornfield, and driving around the country, Daddy was dead. Do you hear me, Skell? He’s dead. And now that you’re home, you’re in a heck of a mess. Not about the money—although Daddy would have skinned you alive and nailed your hide to the barn if he’d found out about that, and I may still do it—but because Chief Muggins honestly believes you killed him. Do you realize that? You are in deep doo-doo, Bro, and there’s not a thing either one of us can do about it.” Her voice choked. She rested her palms on her countertop and her strong body shook with sobs.
I just couldn’t stand to see her like that. I went to put my arms around her waist. “Shush,” I said softly. “You’ve both been through a horrible week, and you’re tired. Don’t say things you will regret. I’ll call Ike when I get home and see what we can do.”
I was offering comfort where I probably shouldn’t, but we’d all had as much as we could stand right then. I caught the time from the corner of my eye and exclaimed thankfully, “Is it past ten already? I missed a chime in there somewhere. I’d better hurry. Once the news comes on, Joe Riddley will start noticing I’m gone. Skell, stay here with your mother and don’t show your face around town until you hear from me. I don’t know how we’ll work this out, but we will. Laura, go to bed. You look too tired to move.”
I grabbed my pocketbook and headed for the door. “After tonight, I don’t think it will be too hard to suggest to Isaac that Jimmy Bratson may have run over your daddy.”
“On Friday night?” Skell’s head had fallen to the back of Laura’s chair and lay like it might never rise again. He shook it without raising it. “It wasn’t Bratson. He was at the lot until nine and went straight home. I know, because I swung by the lot after I left Maynard’s, and followed him. I wanted to be sure he wasn’t out around town following me. I even swung by his place twice after that, to make sure his car was there, and I called six or seven times. When he answered, I hung up. But he was definitely there.”
“He may have been as scared as you,” Laura pointed out. “Maybe he figured he’d let you get killed while he stayed home.” Her eyes met mine, and hers were bleak. “If it was one of the others, we may never know.”
On that cheerful note, I left.
The streets were deserted, so I broke my own rule about driving and talking to call the station on my way home. I caught Ike finishing up his paperwork. “Thought I ought to tell you why Laura and I were over at Sky’s the Limit tonight, and what we found.” I explained about talking with Whitman and what he’d said about Raymond. I also explained what Laura’s records showed about sales of cars to a person who used several names but seemed to be the same man.
“Great. That, with what we’ve already got, ought to put them away awhile. Of course, they’ll probably just start running their business from jail.” He sounded both bitter and discouraged. “You and I both know, Judge, how much this ‘war on drugs’ amounts to. Heck, drug dealers go to jail and run huge networks inside, aided by crooked guards with small salaries and big dreams. And no drug dealer ever gets the same sentence for years of successfully planning and dealing desolation that a person gets for one botched murder. If I had my way, the whole issue of capital punishment would center not on whether to use it, but on who to use it against. I’d start with drug lords and pedo-philes.”
“If you’ll add corporate executives who walk off with fortunes and leave behind ruined businesses with depleted pension funds, you might get my vote. But listen, you need to know something. Laura and I learned tonight that Bratson plans to say that Skye and Skell were both in this up to their necks—that they knew all about the drugs.” If Ike thought we’d learned it from Bratson himself, he’d drawn his own conclusion. I never said it.
He surprised and pleased me. “That bird won’t fly. Skye suspected something funny was going on a couple of months ago and asked us to put somebody in there undercover, to keep an eye open. It was our man’s report that sent us out there tonight.”
Poor Skell. Thinking he was saving his daddy while his daddy was busy saving him. If only he had told his Daddy the truth about Maynard’s car . . . Then I had a most embarrassing thought. “Not Whitman?” Surely our police force wasn’t that desperate for undercover agents?
Isaac’s laugh rumbled through the receiver. “Heavens no. Fellow named Bumby. We brought him in from out of state, so nobody would recognize him. Big guy, looks real soft and easygoing. . . .”
I sighed in relief. “I saw him. Glad you got your men. Even their mothers would have trouble loving that pair. But that’s not all I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve heard from Skell.”
Before Ike could growl more than “Where is—?” I hurried on. “He says he didn’t kill his daddy, and I believe him, but he thinks it’s possible the big man you arrested tonight may have. He also says Jimmy Bratson was home Friday evening—they were in pretty close phone contact while Skell was trying to find Maynard’s car.”
“So Skell was involved in this.” Ike sounded both convinced and discouraged.
“I don’t think so. He says he learned about the drugs Friday afternoon, which is why he was so frantic to get that car back from Maynard. He even followed them to Orlando, in case Bratson’s men closed in on Maynard and Selena.”
“What the heck did Skell think he could do? You may not remember, but I coached that kid in T-ball, years ago. His confidence always has been bigger than his ability. But heck—who could hit a ball with his daddy sitting there yelling at his every mistake?”
I sighed. “He’s made some whopping mistakes this past week without his daddy yelling at him. I have advised him not to show his face in town until all this is cleared up, but meanwhile, could you check on the whereabouts of Mr. Bratson’s friend Friday evening?”
“I’ll do that, Judge. But you leave the detecting to us. You hear me? This is the big leagues, not T-ball.”
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