Murder in Humboldt Page 7

  Then he struck a low blow. “And speaking of gold, what about the money you are holding in your safe that came from this Steve Carrollton and the Memphis Mafia? What happens with it? Are you giving it back?” Leroy was serious.

  “Back to who?” I asked trying to change the subject. “We’ll cross that bridge later. I just need you, and your deputies, to make sure Bubba and Bobby don’t catch me somewhere alone in the dark. I do believe they would kill me without blinking.”

  “I do too, and I would really like to catch them back on my streets. I’m sure between me, Raymond and Judge Graves, we could find someway to lock them up for a very long time.”

  Leroy got up and walked out of the cell leaving the door open. He stopped in the hall and turned around. “I’ll get the stenographer over and then we’ll get your checked out. By the way, how did you like my hotel?” Leroy grinned.

  “Food is great, company is fair and the accommodations suck. But, I’ll give it a 5 star rating if I can just get out of here!”

  “Be patient. It won’t be long,” Leroy said as he walked away.

  At Leroy’s request, I gave a four page sworn statement to the stenographer he brought over from the courthouse. Then I made my second and third calls from the deputy’s desk phone downstairs. The first was to my parents, offering my assurance that whatever they heard was not true and that I would explain at the first opportunity. My second call was to Nickie. I needed a place to stay and a place to operate from, and Chiefs was my choice.

  She promised to hold Cottage 4, and asked that I please get there before she beat Ronnie to death with some unnamed kitchen instrument; he was evidently having one of his better evenings. I told her I was on my way and should see her within the hour. I didn’t add that my delays were caused because I was still trying to get checked out of jail!

  When I stepped in the front door of Chiefs Nickie just said, “phone” and pointed to the inside payphone. Whatever idiot installed this payphone next to the jukebox had to have been drunk or crazy, probably both. Nobody used this phone because nobody could HEAR while using this phone. The jukebox only stopped playing when Nickie or Ronnie turned it off, which was never. It probably has a thousand county songs already lined up for play. People just keep putting money in it and wondering why their song isn’t playing next. It would take a week to cycle through and reach their selection. No matter, they still keep dropping quarters and punching buttons.

  Anyway, it was Jack and I have no clue what he was saying. Something about bail, something about Leroy, something about JR Maxwell – I don’t know. I told him I would call him back tomorrow and had no idea if he heard me or not.

  “Nickie, why don’t you do something about that damn jukebox?” I said finding an empty stool at the end of the bar.

  “Why, what’s wrong with it?” Nickie snapped back.

  “What’s wrong? It plays all the time and it never stops. 24/7 unless you or Ronnie turn it off. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Nope, like the music. Don’t you?”

  “Forget it. Get me a Jack/Coke and one of Ronnie’s burgers, well done,” I offered with frustration.

  “Coming up,” Nickie said turning to walk away. Then she stopped and turned around. “Hey, that guy on the phone said he was your lawyer. Are you in some kind of trouble, again?” Nickie was being nosey.

  “You mean you could actually HEAR what he was saying?” I responded.

  “Sure. He first asked for you, and I told him you were on your way. Then he said to tell you that bail had been arranged, and he was filing papers tomorrow to get the murder charges dropped. Then he said you might want to know that Federal Marshals had arrested Steve Carrollton on weapons charges related to something going on at the Arkansas Pine Bluff Arsenal. Then he said your client case got dismissed. Then he said to tell you he was waiting on his lunch at the Rendezvous. Oh, I almost forgot. He also said to tell you that Marcie is still crying – whatever that means. Who’s Marcie?”

  I just sat and stared at Nickie with my mouth open.

  Looking at my expression she asked, “What’s wrong? Did I miss something?”

  “You mean to tell me that you got ALL THAT from THAT telephone?” I exclaimed.

  “Sure. I’m a pretty good secretary, huh? Wanna hire me?”

  “Nickie,” I said with a smile. “I can only say that your talent never ceases to amaze me. Thanks for the messages, they were important.”

  “Really,” she smiled. “Then who is this Marcie that won’t stop crying? Some bow legged woman you left holding a broken heart?”

  “No, and it’s difficult to explain. She is my secretary, or takes messages for me, and she is concerned that I am in trouble. That’s all, nothing else.”

  “See, I could be your secretary and I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t get the messages wrong either,” she laughed.

  “Nickie – I believe you. Now, how about that Jack/Coke, I need a drink.” I pleaded.

  Nickie turned to walk away and then turned around AGAIN. “What was all that stuff about bail, papers and murder charges?” she asked. “Are you in trouble with the law?”

  “Maybe, but Leroy and I are trying to work it out. How about that drink,” I asked again.

  Nickie turned to walk away and then turned around for the third time. “Oh, and one other message,” Nickie added.

  “You mean you forgot one?” I shook my head.

  “No, not from your lawyer. This one was from Judy Strong. She called yesterday, the day before and I think, the day before that,” Nickie said rubbing her chin.

  “Really. What was the message?” This was interesting.

  “Just to call her, that’s all she said.”

  “Did she leave a number?” I had some anticipation in my voice.

  “You are kidding, right? I know this woman; she is a 9+ on anybody’s meter, and you DON’T have her number? You need to go back to jail – and don’t pass GO. You are slipping.”

  “Did she leave a number?” I asked again.

  “In fact, yes she did. When I can find the order book I was using when she called, I’ll get it for you; I wrote it on the back. And don’t get smart, I really didn’t think you would need the number. I wasn’t aware you were slipping in your old age!” Nickie laughed.

  “Please find me that drink first then find the number. I do need to call her.”

  “Okay,” Nickie said before stopping and turning around for the fourth time. “Hey, handsome, you really didn’t kill JR Maxwell, did you?”

  “No, Nickie, I did not kill JR Maxwell,” I answered with frustration.

  “Do you know who did?” she asked.

  “Yes. Colonel Mustard did it with a rope in the library. Now get me that number and drink – please!”

  I love Nickie, but she can sometime be a real pain. Nickie finally brought me my drink along with number Judy had left and the times she had called. The number Judy left was 784-2724, and according to Nickie, she had last called me at about 1:30 A.M. last night. That would have been about 30 minutes after she left Room 7 at the Tennessee Motel.

  ~

  I called Judy from the pay phone out front.

  After several rings a timid voice answered with a simple, “Hello.”

  “Judy, this is Carson Reno. I am returning your call,” I said in a professional tone.

  “Are you okay?” she asked shyly.

  “Well, I’m out of jail and let’s leave it at that. What were you calling about?” I was abnormally cold in my words. I’m not sure why, but I have stopped trusting anybody.

  “I need to talk to you. Can I come over?” Judy asked quietly.

  “Nope, not a good idea. But what you can do, is tell me what you were doing in JR’s room after midnight last night?” I asked.

  “Why, you jealous?” I’m not sure where that came from.

  “Look, Judy. A man has been murdered and murdered with my gun. I was sleeping less than 100 yards from him when it happened, and the police think I did it
. I don’t enjoy thinking about the electric chair or spending the rest of my life in jail, so let’s cut the crap and answer my question. You will eventually be telling the sheriff anyway. I saw you go into his room after midnight and leave about 1:00AM. For what and why were you there?”

  “Okay, but please don’t yell or be mad at me. I trust you, and I’ve shown that.” Yes she had, but I just wish I trusted her.

  “All right, no yelling and no mad, just tell me about it.”

  “Yesterday was a bad day at work. JR didn’t show up and I was saddled with handling everything. First Mary Ellen’s brother shows up…”

  “Her brother,” I interrupted. “I didn’t know she had a brother!”

  “Yep, his name is Lester Blankenship, and the guy is a creep and a dimwit. He’s from somewhere in Arkansas, and it scares me just to talk with him.”

  “Judy, wait a minute,” I interrupted again. “I thought Mary Ellen was from Humboldt? How could she have a brother from Arkansas?”

  “I’m not sure, but I believe she spent her early years in Arkansas – Newport I think – before moving to Humboldt. I guess the dimwit stayed behind. Anyway, I understand he showed up here a couple of months ago and has been living with JR and Mary Ellen. That’s all I know.”

  “Okay, go on,” I said quickly.

  “Anyway, Lester shows up demanding to see JR. And when he can’t do that, he gets loud and nasty. He knocked over Brenda’s filing cabinet and kept yelling, ‘If I don’t get my money from that bastard I’ll kill him’. After he left, I called the police. Chief Raymond Griggs showed up and I gave him a statement, and that was that.”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted again. “You mean Raymond Griggs knew that this Lester had made threats toward JR, and he knew that yesterday?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said. Anyway, the day didn’t get any better. About an hour later, this bitch Dorothy Wayne shows up wanting to see JR. Again, he isn’t here and I don’t know where he is. She throws a similar tantrum, but she didn’t break anything or make any threats, at least none that I heard.”

  “Okay, is that it?” I asked.

  “No sir, it is not. Only a short time after Dorothy scratches off leaving the parking lot, the union president, James Cole shows up. He’s arm in arm with that prick Gerald Wayne. They also want to see JR, and when that didn’t work, they demanded the manifests for all Maxwell Trucking trailers that are parked at their dock. Obviously, I did NOT give them the manifests and they left in a huff.”

  “Humph. Well, did you make anybody happy that visited the office yesterday?” I asked with some confusion.

  “I doubt it. Later that afternoon a FBI agent, Roger Giltner, stopped by to see JR. While he was nicer, he was still not happy that he couldn’t find JR.”

  “Where was JR? Do you know?” I finally got around to asking.

  “I do now, or I know what he told me. He said he was in Milan, all day.”

  “Did he say where in Milan?”

  “He just said the arsenal that is all he said.”

  “Okay. Go on,” I offered.

  “Well, JR has been staying at that silly motel while Mary Ellen was out of town. I don’t think he wanted to be around that creep Lester. I drove out there last night to give him my resignation, but when I got there I saw Mary Ellen’s friend Liz’s car, and figured Mary Ellen was there too, so I left. I came back a little later, saw JR, gave him my resignation and left. That’s it – kaput - nothing else.”

  “What did he say when you resigned?” I asked.

  “That is the craziest part, he said nothing. As I told you the other night, he has just not been himself. It was as though he was listening to me but his mind was a hundred miles away.”

  “Okay, listen.” I said while thinking. “I’m going to have Leroy come see you tomorrow. I want you to tell him exactly what you told me, word for word, don’t leave anything out.”

  “That’s fine. Can I see you tonight?” she asked and that hurt.

  “No, but you can do me a favor. I need a phone number for Elizabeth Teague. Have you got one?”

  “Yes, hang on. But, she is probably with Mary Ellen or Mary Ellen might at her place.”

  “That’s okay, just get me the number.”

  “Her number is 784-1606. I believe she has a place somewhere off Main Street. Are you going to see her?” I detected some hostility in her voice.

  “Just business Judy, just business. I’ll call you later. Maybe tomorrow,” I said hanging up the phone.

  I quickly dialed the number Judy had provided and Liz answered on the second ring with a strong voice. “Hello, this is Liz,” she said.

  “Elizabeth, this is Carson Reno.” I started.

  “I know - I recognized your voice. What do you want?” she snapped.

  “I would like to buy you breakfast, can you handle that?” I heard her laugh at my question.

  “Ha! Most men buy me breakfast AFTER they have bought me dinner. Why the invite?”

  “I need to talk with you and it needs to be private. Can we meet?” I asked in a professional tone.

  “Okay, where? Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “I’ve got Mary Ellen here with me and she shouldn’t be alone. Do you want her to come too?”

  “No, just you,” I answered quickly. “Find somebody to stay with her if you need to. I’ll meet you in Jackson at the Holiday Inn; they have a breakfast buffet. Let’s say 9:00 AM. Can you make that work?”

  “I guess so,” she answered with a question in her voice. “See you in the morning.”

  ~

  Back at the bar, I had another J/C and watched a rerun of the news interview Gerald had given to the press last Thursday. There was just something strange about watching Dorothy standing there beside him. It was even stranger now that I knew that both Dorothy and Mary Ellen had roots in Arkansas. Was there a connection?

  And where did the dimwit Lester fit? How could Raymond have known about his threat and still busted his butt to arrest me?

  I had a busy day tomorrow – Day 8.

  DAY EIGHT

  Thursday

  It was a beautiful spring morning and I rolled down all the windows on the Ford as I made the half-hour drive to Jackson. This was a ‘blue bird’ day, with only an occassional white fluffy cloud floating across the clear blue sky.

  I had already started my second cup of coffee when the red Corvette convertible wheeled into the parking area. The top was down, and her hair showed the experience of a quick and windy ride on a beautiful morning.

  She looked remarkably different from our first meeting, perhaps it was the light or perhaps it was her dress. This morning Liz was without all her frills, fancy suit and jewelry. In the morning light, I could see that Elizabeth Teague was truly a beautiful woman. It was like she had somehow peeled back a layer and was letting more of her good looks be exposed.

  Also exposed was that great South Beach tan. She had that golden glow that comes with a new and recent dose of God’s sunlight. Medium tan shorts, tennis shoes and a ‘not too modest’ top provided the viewer with just enough to cause the second look. She was a striking figure getting out of that red Corvette convertible. Where had this girl been all my life?

  She slid into the booth like she was sliding under the sheets, then gave me a big smile and said, “Okay, Mr. Reno, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Please call me Carson, that will be much easier,” I suggested.

  “Okay, Carson, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Breakfast. Do you want some breakfast?” I was visibly distracted by her presence.

  “Just coffee, but you go ahead and eat. I like to watch,” she laughed.

  “I’ve had my coffee. Finish yours and take me for a ride in that beautiful car of yours. Can you do that?”

  “I sure can, but I don’t need the caffeine. Unbutton your shirt and let’s hit the highway. You ready?” she asked with a smile.

  “Never more ready, let’s go.”


  We had almost made it to the Medina highway before I finally got my seat belt fastened. She liked her speed, and I was enjoying watching her.

  “Okay, Liz, here is the deal. I am going to tell you everything I know. Then I am going to ask you some questions and I want honest and straight answers. Then I’m going to ask you to tell me what you know that hasn’t already been discussed. After that, you can ask me questions, anything you want. Can we do that?”

  “Absolutely, Carson, I am all ears.” Which wasn’t true. I hadn’t even seen her ears – in fact, I had never thought about her ears! But, I’m sure they matched the rest of her, at least the parts I could see!

  I started. “I know that you and Mary Ellen visited JR at his room last night. I know that you both came back later in separate cars but didn’t stop, I assume because you saw Judy Strong was there. I also saw your car, this car, leaving the Tennessee Motel parking lot in a real hurry sometimes after 4:30 AM, but I don’t know who was driving. I know you and Mary Ellen spent most of a week in South Beach, and JR spent that week camped at the Tennessee Motel. I know that a dimwit brother of Mary Ellen, named Lester, has been staying at her house, and I think that may be the reason JR was bunking at the Tennessee Motel. I know that JR was in some serious trouble, but I don’t know what that trouble was. I know that Mary Ellen thinks he had been seeing another woman, but I don’t think she has any idea who that woman might be. I know that Mary Ellen spent some part of her early life in Newport, Arkansas and I don’t think many others know that. Because of this, the presence of her brother has probably been causing her additional stress, over and above the situation with JR. How did I do? Did I get anything wrong?”

  “Just one,” Liz answered. “She knows who the other woman is!”

  “Okay, so she thinks she knows it is Judy Strong, I should have added that.”

  “I didn’t say it was Judy, you did.”