“Okay, five down, one to go,” Johnny said, trying to keep things light. He gestured to the dry-erase board and the list of possible suspects. “Hank, we still sure about Paprika Parker’s boyfriend, Victor Johnson?”

  “Affirmative. When Paprika asked me to look into his background, that’s when I found out he’d dated that Helechawa woman. But I’ve done some more digging, and I haven’t found anything of interest. Their breakup was amicable, and I don’t see how he could be connected to the Goose Juice or to Virgil. I’d say it was just a coincidence.”

  Johnny nodded. “Next up: Mary Alice Larue. She followed Virgil to town, and she had reason to be upset when he rebuffed her advances, but I talked to her, and she sounded convincing to me. Yes, she was mad at Virgil, but she explained what transpired that night at the tennis court, and I believe her. For now. Doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind.”

  Velveeta held up a finger. “You know, Chief. She could be a ringer.”

  “Come again?”

  “Maybe Virgil and Buford recruited her. Maybe she was working with them and their little feud was a ruse. And then he double-crossed her and she snapped.”

  “Hmm. That’s something to ponder. But I believe Louis’s story about Buford being the one to help Virgil. I don’t know that I see Mary Alice being in on it.” He wobbled his head. “We’ll leave her name there for now.”

  Velveeta said, “There’s something else too, Chief.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Caledonia said she forgot about Virgil’s racket being there that night. How come Mary Alice forgot?”

  “Maybe she didn’t see it, but that brings something else to mind. Her fingerprints weren’t on the racket Caledonia left at the court. So if Mary Alice swung at Virgil but missed, what’d she use?”

  “Good question.”

  The next name on the list was Bunhead Shaw, and Hank spoke up. “I’ve seen Skeeter’s notes on Bunhead. I think it’s pretty safe to say that he had something to do with that still. But how would he have even known Virgil? I mean, I can see him not being smart enough to brew a quality product, but I can’t see him being evil enough to poison anyone on purpose.”

  “And Buford said his moonshiners didn’t know about the poison. We’ll cross off Bunhead’s name for now. Moving on. Next up is Buck, and I have to say I don’t see it. Sure, he wanted to beat Virgil in the mayoral race, but I don’t think he wanted it bad enough to kill him.”

  Velveeta agreed. “I don’t see it either. Buck’s solid. He truly cares about our town, and he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

  “What about all that politics rhetoric?” Hank asked.

  “It was just that. Snapping back at a rude opponent is far different from being able to kill another human being.” Johnny regarded the list of suspects on the board. “And we now know about Buford and Louis.”

  “Wait a minute, Chief. All we have is Louis’s word on that. What if Louis was more than just the lawyer on the deal? I mean, he knew what they were doing. Why wouldn’t he try to let on to somebody what was really going on?”

  “No, Buford said no one else was in on the Goose Juice. Why would he lie? But Louis was bound by attorney-client privilege.”

  “Yes, but it’s his duty to report a crime if he knows about it. He knew Virgil and Buford were in on the hotel deal together. Are you telling me he knew nothing about Buford poisoning people? And said nothing? Why would he do that if he wasn’t in as deep as the two of them? Maybe he was an investor in the land.”

  “Sounds like a question only Louis can answer. Hank, you g’won back over and talk to him.”

  Johnny turned to Velveeta. “You go over to Mary Alice Larue’s house. Ask her if she saw two rackets there that night. And see if she has one you can borrow.”

  “Yessir. Right away.”

  “Don’t make a big deal of it, but keep your eyes open.”

  “Yessir.” Both Hank and Velveeta kept their seats.

  Johnny swiped a hand over his face and through his hair. “Well, don’t just sit there like a knot on a log. Dismissed.”

  Hank backed out of the parking space in the attorney’s parking lot. Louis had answered his questions to his satisfaction. He believed the man when he said he didn’t know anything other than Virgil and Buford being the ones behind the land scheme. He vehemently denied personally having anything to do with buying the land. His involvement was purely to serve as the attorney at the closing and to register the LLC. Beyond that, he was oblivious.

  Hank had been pushing aside a nagging thought all week. What about Daisy AKA Wynona? She’d been pretty upset with Virgil, and Virgil had been pretty creepy to her. He needed to put his suspicions to rest.

  Hank walked into Killer Cupcakes at five forty-two. He grabbed a peach Joe Tea and paid Kaye, who was behind the counter.

  “So did you arrest that Caledonia woman for murder yet? She always looks shifty to me. I’ve been keeping close surveillance on her dress shop. Anything you want to know about goings-on over there, you just ask me.”

  Hank suppressed a smile. “No, ma’am. We don’t believe Caledonia killed Virgil.”

  “Well, who did then? I don’t feel safe now knowing a killer’s on the loose. Will you be my bodyguard?” She leered at Hank.

  Hank managed to sidestep Kaye’s flirting, and she eventually directed him to the back room where Daisy was working.

  He walked into the kitchen area to find Daisy reading a letter. She folded it quickly and put it in her pocket when she saw him come in.

  “Hey there, Cowboy. What brings you by? I thought we were meeting later on.” She walked up to him and gave him a soft kiss.

  “I just had a quick question for you.” He looked everywhere but directly at her.

  “What’s up? You’re acting kinda strange.”

  “I was just wondering where you were last Friday night?” He ran his finger through some icing that had fallen on the worktable. He licked his finger and finally met her eyes.

  Her expression hardened, and she crossed her arms over her stomach. She answered him with a soft voice. “Why are you wondering that?”

  “C’mon, Whoops-a-Daisy. Don’t make me say it.” He tried to smile at her, but seeing the pain on her face, it disappeared almost as quickly as it had begun.

  “You seriously think I killed Virgil? Are you kidding me with this?”

  “Come on, Daisy. I’m just trying to do my job. I’m ruling out any possible suspects.”

  “So every time someone dies, I’m going to be a suspect? Is that about the size of things?”

  “No. But you did have some problems with Virgil.”

  “So I killed him. Just like that. He made a pass at me, and I hauled off and killed him.”

  “What do you mean ‘hauled off?’ How do you know how he died?”

  “Everybody in town knows how he died," she yelled.

  Hank put up his hands in front of him. “Okay. Okay. So you’re telling me you had nothing to do with Virgil’s death?”

  “Officer Beanblossom, I had nothing to do with Virgil Pepper’s death.” She turned her back on him and added, “And I want nothing more to do with you either.”

  Hank stood there, nodding slowly for several moments. On his way out of the kitchen, he turned back. “I’m sorry, Daisy.”

  Hank returned to the police department and parked his car. He sat in the dark, thinking things over. He hadn’t been wrong in suspecting Daisy, but he’d been wrong in accusing her without any proof. He wished he could take it all back. He reached for the door handle when he saw motion behind him. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw it was Buck.

  Hank got out of the car and watched as Buck hoisted something into the dumpster that was shared by city hall and the police department. He scanned the area and then hurried away. Hank caught up to him.

  “Mayor. Congratulations on your win.”

  Buck jumped and then harrumphed. “Wasn’t really a win what with my competitor up and dying and all. But at least the city’s in good hands.”

  “I didn’t know you did janitorial work.” Hank hitched a thumb toward the dumpster.

  Buck’s eyes darted from the dumpster to Hank. “I do what I can to help out. Listen, I . . . I need to get going. Good night, Officer.” Buck scurried off into the building.

  Hank thought the mayor was acting strange. Stranger than usual, at least. He got a stepladder and went over to the dumpster. Luckily, it was almost full, and the bag Buford threw in was on top. Hank knew that because he found a tennis racket in the second bag he inspected. As he opened the bag, flies flew out and buzzed around his face. The light from the pole in the parking lot was bright enough for Hank to see half of the racket covered in maggots and flies.

  He was reaching for his radio when the stepladder came out from under him.

  Twenty-nine

  A single lie is enough to question all truths. –Anonymous

  Wednesday, six p.m., five days after Dead Virgil

  When Officer Hank Beanblossom started coming around, the first thing he realized was that his hands were bound. At least they’re in front, he thought. Sitting propped against a wall, he cracked open his eyes. They were in Buck’s office.

  Buck was sitting directly across from Hank, but the office was empty otherwise. The mayor leaned forward and lightly tapped the officer’s cheeks.

  Hank blinked several times and opened his eyes fully. “Mayor Buck Lyle.”

  “Welcome back, Officer. Sorry you hit your head when you fell.”

  “You mean when you kicked the stepladder out from under me?”

  “Well, now, you were being too nosey. I did what I had to do.”

  Hank’s head and back hurt, but he tried to concentrate on the problem at hand. “Mayor, did you know even a trace of blood can attract flies? You can try to clean it all off, but blood’s stubborn. It sticks around. And attracts flies. Sorry, but we got you.”

  “The tennis racket.” The mayor shook his head. “Well, shoot. I took it with me because I was afraid of fingerprints. I figured the other one would be assumed to be the murder weapon. Why I stashed it here instead of throwing it in the trash right away, I’ll never know. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” With each “stupid,” the man hit his forehead with the heel of his hand.

  “Mayor Buck, what in Sam Hill are you doing, man? You know what’s stupid? Holding a police officer against his will and expecting to get away with it. Come to your senses and untie me. What time is it anyway?” Since Hank’s hands were bound, he moved his forearms so they rubbed against his front pockets. He realized Buck had taken his zip ties from him and used one to bind his wrists. He didn’t feel his radio or his service revolver either.

  “Relax. You were only out for a few minutes. But you know, you’re right. And I’m going to get going in just a sec. I just need to figure out what to do with you and find out how much y’all know.”

  “We know everything, Buck.”

  “You know everything. But how much does the chief know?”

  “Enough.” Hank bluffed. “What time is it? He’s going to start getting worried when he can’t reach me.”

  “Who are the suspects?”

  “I’ll be honest, Buck. You’re on the list.”

  “But without the racket and without you, nobody knows it was me. It coulda been Caledonia. She’s the one who hit him, after all.”

  “But she didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him. Someone else did. And that racket proves it was you.”

  “Well, that racket is going to be found in the woods behind Caledonia’s house.” He shrugged. “The chief is going to have to assume Caledonia did it. You shoulda just left the trash in the dumpster, Hank. Nobody would have ever known.”

  “Why? Why’d you want Virgil dead? Just because he was competition?”

  A sad expression came over his face. “Nobody knew the real Virgil. Nobody but the women he seduced and then cheated on or the men he opposed. But I keep my eyes open. You got to in my line of work. And I knew he was a sociopath. A sociopathic narcissist of the worst kind. Oh, he wasn’t a sociopath like a serial killer. Come to think of it, I guess that would be the worst kind. But he knew how to manipulate people. He knew how to charm and play on people’s emotions until he could exploit them to his full advantage. He didn’t own an ounce of empathy. The only person he ever loved was himself. He was a pathological liar, a womanizer, and a pathetic human being. He had everyone fooled with his exuberant personality. The man never met a stranger. But the real Virgil was a stranger to everybody. And he was about to infect Goose Pimple Junction with his wicked ways. He didn’t care about the town or about becoming mayor. He only cared about himself and financial gain. I couldn’t let him beat me. He woulda ruined the town. I couldn’t let him do that. Following him had become my hobby. I was compiling a rather large dossier. And that night at the tennis courts, an opportunity presented itself. I didn’t go there to kill him.” His voice softened. “It just kind of happened.”

  The radio squawked, and Hank heard Bernadette’s voice. “Officer Beanblossom, come in. Officer Beanblossom, do you copy?”

  Buck took the radio off his desk. “Yep. They’re looking for you, all right. Okay then. I’d better get moving.” He stuck it in his suit pocket, slapped his hands on his thighs and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m just going to gather a few things, and I’ll be back in a jiffy. Sorry, but I gotta cover your mouth. Can’t trust you not to start yelling.”

  Buck taped Hank’s mouth. “We’ll stay here until it’s all quiet at the PD. Then I’ll have to figure out what to do with you. But we’ll talk about that later.” He tied the trash bag closed, lifted it, and started out of the office. “Now you sit tight, and I’ll be back for you in a sec.”

  Buck left the room, and Hank sprang to action. He untied his shoelaces and threaded one through the zip tie. He then knotted the laces together still threaded through the zip. He started bicycling his legs, which caused friction and made the plastic zip tie melt, and he broke free. He could hear Buck moving around in the outer office, as he pulled off the tape from his mouth. He said a quick prayer and then stood.

  Seeing how Buck was in his fifties, and Hank was in his thirties, Hank figured he could take him.

  At the police station, it was nearing seven o’clock when Johnny started getting worried. He’d paged Hank several times and had gotten no response. That wasn’t like him.

  Velveeta had been back for over an hour, reporting she was satisfied with Mary Alice’s story. “I talked to Mary Alice, Chief. She said there were two tennis rackets there when she left, and I don’t think she was involved. Like you said, all her answers check out. And she’s no longer listed as the beneficiary of Virgil’s life insurance policy, so hating him was her only motive to kill him. I don’t think that’s enough. I believe her.”

  “Okay. Good job.”

  Now Velveeta came into Johnny’s office again. “What’s the word, Chief?”

  She started to sit when Johnny added, “You haven’t heard from Hank, have you?”

  She seemed surprised and stopped mid-sit. “What do you mean? His car’s out back.”

  “You sure?”

  “Sure, I’m sure. Have you tried radioing him?”

  “Been doing that for a while now.”

  “Well that is strange.”

  “Something isn’t right. C’mon. You and I are going to check things out.”

  Hank stood and shook off the headache, formulating a plan in his mind. When he heard Buck coming toward the door, he pulled back his arm.

  The mayor opened the door, and Hank’s fist knocked him flat on his back.

  Hank towered over the man, staring down at him. “Mayor Buck Lyle, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

  When Buck didn’t respond, Hank yanked his arm and pulled him up. “You hear?”

  “I hear,” Buck sulked, rubbing his face.

  Hank searched Buck’s pockets and took back his radio and the zip ties that had been taken from his own pocket not so long ago. After he’d tied the mayor’s hands behind his back, he pushed him through to the outer office and grabbed the evidence that Buck had left at the door.

  “Where’s my service revolver?” Hank demanded.

  “Left coat pocket,” Buck murmured.

  Johnny and Velveeta were coming out the back door of the station when Hank, steering a furious Mayor Buck, was coming in.

  “Hey, y’all. I caught me a killer.”

  Thirty

  Readers are advised to remember that the devil is a liar.

  –C.S. Lewis

  Thursday morning, six days after Dead Virgil

  Buford didn’t make it. The ER doctor called Johnny to give him the news.

  “As soon as we got the laboratory values back, we took him into the observation unit and the treatment process was started. Ethyl alcohol treatments and dialysis were administered. The physical examinations revealed a moderately or severely deteriorated general health state, metabolic acidosis –“

  Johnny cut in. “Uh, doc, I don’t need to hear about the labor. Just show me the baby.”

  “We consulted with the Drug and Poison Information Center for potential development of complications and information about treatment alternatives was obtained. The first clinical signs we noted were of visual toxicity, indicating hemodialysis, severe electrocardiographic changes with sinus–”

  “Doc!” Johnny implored. “Cut to the chase.”

  “There was a lethal outcome.”

  “I see. Thank you, doc. Send me your report, if you would be so kind.” Johnny turned to Velveeta and Hank, who were in his office, and shook his head.

  After several moments of silence, Velveeta said, “Well, that’s a fine how do you do. We go to all the trouble to crack the case and go over there to arrest him, and he up and dies on us.”