I was little and watched my father make wonderful things in his own tiny workshop.
When he’d shaved as much as he’d wanted to off the two-by-four he reached down for another board and that’s when he saw me. His first reaction was anger. He changed it quickly to a smug smile. “I could have you arrested for trespassing.”
“Who is he, Bobby?” She was the mythic mountain girl in all of Charles Williams’s Gold Medal novels, pure animal sex and ravishing insolence. The voice didn’t work with the body-cigarettes and booze and, likely, drugs.
“He’s a nobody who thinks he’s somebody because he works for Judge Whitney.”
“That bitch. She put my brother in county for six months.”
“You don’t have any friends here, McCain.” He lifted his saw and jabbed it in my direction. “So if I was you, I’d leave right now.”
“You could take him one-handed, Bobby. He don’t even come up to your shoulders.”
Bobby nodded to the blonde who was, for all her looks, a pretty nasty lady.
“She’s got two brothers, McCain. She grew up watching them beat the hell out of each other. She knows about fighting. If she says I can whip your ass, take her word for it.”
“How much dope were you selling Vanessa Mainwaring?”
That got us past the tough-guy talk.
The dark eyes narrowed in fear.
“A murder like that, the police are going to start looking into her background for the county attorney. The drugs’ll come up and your name is going to be in the papers and on TV.” It was bullshit but he was too dumb to know that. “You’re going to find yourself up against some heavy-duty charges. Paul Mainwaring’s going to see that you get put away for a long time.”
The blonde started to say something but stopped herself. She had a scorching glare. I could almost feel my skin shrivel.
“The kind of business you’re in, Bobby, you’ll be lucky to get out in fifteen years.”
“You bastard. You’ve been waitin’ to nail me, haven’t you, McCain?”
“You’re wasting my time, Randall. I want to know how much dope she was buying and what kind.”
“And then you run to the cops.”
“Or that bitch of a judge.” Blondie.
“Your Thunderbird was parked outside the barn where Vanessa’s body was found.”
He finally put the saw down. He made a show of flexing his bicep as he did so. Even in panic he had to peacock it. “So what?”
“Your car was there during the time the coroner said she was killed. So where were you?”
“You don’t have to tell him nothing, Bobby. It’s two against one. All we gotta say is he made alla this up.”
“I just walked around the commune the way I usually do, McCain. I like the fresh air out there.”
God had provided Randall with enviable skills-enviable to me anyway-as a carpenter and handyman. His law degree was apparently still in the mail.
“Mike Potter has checked all the footprints in the barn. He’s accounted for all of them except two. I haven’t mentioned you to him yet. But how would you like it if I went straight from here to a phone and told him to check out all your shoes?”
Even Blondie gulped when I said this. For just a second not even her cunning could disguise her apprehension. I wasn’t sure what they were hiding from me but obviously I’d made both of them nervous.
“Let’s go back to the dope. How much and what kind?”
“This is really bullshit, man. Like I said, I could charge you with trespassing.”
“Yeah, you could. And I could always call Mike Potter. How about if we swap, Randall? You tell me about the drugs and I won’t tell Potter anything if I believe you’re telling me the truth.”
“Don’t tell him anything, Bobby. That bitch judge of his’ll just put you in prison the same way she did Ronnie.”
How could anybody as ravishing-and she was-as Blondie be such a bitch? And not exactly a bright one at that.
“I wouldn’t listen to her, Bobby. She wouldn’t be able to help you when Potter and the county attorney started snooping around. I can help you if you help me now.”
“You back off, Dodie. I gotta be careful here.”
Dodie? I had nothing against the name but somehow she wasn’t a “Dodie.” Dodies are cute and pert in my mind; this Dodie was a long-legged female swashbuckler who used sex and her belligerent mouth to get her way. Dodie?
Dodie slid off the stool and came up to stand next to Randall. She stood hip-cocked and spectacular. Just as long as she didn’t open her mouth. “He’s conning you.”
“Maybe so, but I want to hear him out at least. Why don’t you go in and see about supper?”
“I want to stay here.”
At this rate ol’ Bobby was soon going to get kicked out of the He-Man Club. You know, the guys who don’t take crap off anybody, especially women. Dodie-with-the-unlikely-name was clearly in charge here.
“All right, but keep quiet.”
“I’ll keep quiet as long as you don’t say anything stupid to this asshole.”
When I thought about it, I could almost feel sorry for Randall.
“How long were you selling her drugs?”
He glanced at Dodie as if seeking her permission to talk. To me he said, “Six, seven months.”
“How often?”
“She was one of my best customers. Every seven or eight days or so.”
“You ever think maybe he’s wired and you’re talking yourself into hard time?”
“I’m not wired, Randall. And you’re doing the right thing. What kind of drugs did she buy?”
This time he didn’t look for permission. “Across the board. At least of the kind I sell. Pot, speed, coke, acid. Once in a while I get weird shit like peyote or something. She liked acid. She loved tripping. The kids at the commune, all they ever want is pot and acid.”
“You get to know her?”
Bobby Randall, cool cat and heartbreaker, blushed, which wasn’t doing much for his image. The blooded cheeks told me that she had likely seduced him the way she’d likely seduced a lot of young men. He had to clear his throat to speak. “Talked to her a little bit.”
“That better be all you did.”
“Dodie, I already told ya nothin’ happened.”
“I seen her. And I seen the way you looked at her.”
“Yeah, well, nothin’ happened.”
“Why was your car there so long last night?”
This time he didn’t blush. He lowered his head and stared at the ground for half a minute. Then he looked up and said, “Remember, it’s two to one. Your word against ours.”
“You can relax, Randall. I think you’re a scumbag but right now I could give a rat’s ass about your drug deals. I want to find out who murdered Vanessa and Neil Cameron. So what were you doing there so long?”
“Don’t tell him anything more, Bobby. He’s got enough to put you away already.”
“None of this goes to the cops, right?”
“They’ll nail your ass soon enough. They don’t need any help from me. I won’t repeat anything we talked about here today.”
He pawed at his face, the same thing I’d been doing to mine. Between the heat Dodie was exuding and the temperature, Randall’s garage was one steamy place.
“Me’n Richard-Richard Donovan?-we got a deal. I give him a cut and he tells all his people to buy strictly from me. I’ve been worried about cops so Richard agreed to let me put my stash in the barn. I was unloading then covering it up. And I didn’t see any dead Vanessa.”
“How did Richard act when you got there?”
He was in need of permission again. A quick glance to Dodie then back to me: “Kinda nervous. That doesn’t
