Chapter 31
Leonard sat on the hot hood of the Lumina parked in front of the jail.
The heat from the hood and the afternoon sun forced him to get up and go stand in the shade of the tattered green awning to the barbershop next door to the jail. Still, sweat poured down his face.
Minutes later, Sheriff Bledsoe drove up in his cruiser. Not noticing Leonard, he got out whistling, a plastic Wal-Mart bag hanging on his wrist.
Leonard stepped toward him and said, “Hey, Sheriff.”
Sheriff Bledsoe stopped whistling and frowned. “Yeah,” he grunted.
“We need to talk.”
Sheriff Bledsoe opened the door. “I figured as much. Come on in.” Leonard followed him inside. Sheriff Bledsoe flipped the light switch and said, “You mind I fixed myself a stiff drink?”
“No, go right ahead.”
Sheriff Bledsoe sat down and emptied the bag on a desk. Bottles of Maalox, Mylanta, Kaopectate, Pepto Bismo, Milk of Magnesia, and several small boxes of Tagamet HB, Pepsid AC, and Zantac 75 fell out. He retrieved a Styrofoam cup from a trash can and took out two pills from each box.
He looked up at Leonard. “Sit down, this’ll only take a minute or two.”
Leonard sat down on a swivel chair missing two rollers. Sheriff Bledsoe put the pills into an envelope, folded it and bit it several times. He opened the envelope over the cup and a pinkish-blue powder spilled out. Then he opened the bottles and poured a dollop of each into the cup. After stirring the mixture with a finger, he put the cup to his mouth, grimaced, winked at Leonard and drank it dry.
He wiped his chalky-white moustache clean and said, “Ugh! That hits the spot.”
“Sheriff, you really don’t have to take all that. There’s new medicine will clear up indigestion. Ask your doctor.”
Sheriff Bledsoe gave him a look. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He tossed the cup into the trash can. “You know, I used to think gas jokes were the funniest thing in the world. All those kid movies where somebody breaks wind or can’t make it to the bathroom in time just had me rolling on the floor laughing. The bathroom scene in
“Enough with my problems,” Sheriff Bledsoe said. “What do you have on your mind?”
“I…” Leonard searched for words. The business with the antacids made him forget what he intended to say.
“Let me take a guess. You’re itching to get back to the windy city, resume your life. Furthermore, you don’t like the way I’ve handled this investigation. You think I don’t know what I’m doing. Guess what? You’re one hundred percent right. I’m as lost as Newt Gingrich on Soul Train. Yes, I made some mistakes, some big mistakes, whoppers. The good news is I’m not giving up. I’m going to nab whoever murdered your father.”
“I’m glad to hear your determination, Sheriff. It’s not what I wanted to talk with you. I’m concerned about Ruth Ann.”
“Ruth Ann?”
“Yes. I think her life is in danger.”
“Lester is upset, but I doubt he’ll do anything to her.”
“You know about the rift between Shirley and Ruth Ann?”
“Yes, I know all about it.”
“You think maybe Ruth Ann should be under surveillance for her protection?”
“Don’t worry about Lester. Last night I stopped by and talked with him. He’s not going to do anything stupid.”
“Lester isn’t who I’m worried about, Sheriff?”
“Who are you worried about?”
Leonard winced. “I really don’t think Shirley would intentionally hurt Ruth Ann. Best to be safe than sorry, right?”
“You think Shirley might harm Ruth Ann?”
“No, no, no! I didn’t say that. I’m saying, you know, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep an eye on Ruth Ann, at least for a couple of days or so.”
“Look around here,” Sheriff Bledsoe said. “This operation here is what big-city folks call low-rent. In Chicago the police can provide twenty-four-hour surveillance. Here in Dawson, population less than five thousand, it can’t be done. Tell Ruth Ann to chill out for a few more days, till tempers cool a bit.”
“What if tempers don’t cool? What if tempers have already boiled over?”
“Something you’re not telling me. Take the guesswork out and tell it straight.”
“Shirley came over to the house not an hour ago and showed me a copy of Daddy’s will.”
“Where was Ruth Ann?”
“She’s gone. Shirley said she’s with her son at the Boy Scout camp.”
“Ruth Ann has a son? I didn’t know that.”
“Yes. His name is Shane.”
“By Lester?”
“Yes… I think so. Anyway, Shirley said—”
“Let me see the will.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t bring it with me. I should have. There’s been so much going on lately I can’t think straight.”
“I was starting to think the will didn’t exist. Where did Shirley get it?”
“I don’t know. I read it, couldn’t believe it. Daddy willed all his money to Ruth Ann.” Leonard shook his head. “The whole kit and caboodle. Every damn dime! I should have known he wouldn’t leave me anything. Ruth Ann, she’s the stingiest person I know. I’ll never forget, I was five years old, my first tooth. Woke up the next morning… nothing! No tooth, no money. Not a damn thing! I know she took it.”
“I’m a little confused here,” Sheriff Bledsoe said. “First you come in here sounding all concerned with Ruth Ann’s welfare. Now you sound bitter. Tell me what’s really going on?”
Leonard looked down and noticed a red chip of glass near his foot. He looked up and said, “There’s a provision in the will you should know about. In the event of Ruth Ann’s death, the money will be split among her surviving siblings.”
“I’m on board now. You think whoever poisoned your father might go after Ruth Ann?”
Leonard nodded.
“Who else has seen the will?”
“Shirley told me she showed Robert Earl a copy and he crushed it against his head. She didn’t mention showing it to anyone else.”
“Was Shirley upset she’d been left out of the will?”
“It’s hard to say. Shirley’s been looking upset ever since I got here.”
“I need to see that will. Robert Earl crushed a copy against his head, huh? I can see him doing that. Are you worried Robert Earl might do something to Ruth Ann?”
“Nooooo! Robert Earl is too far left of center, and he’s a big chicken. He…”
“He what?”
Leonard didn’t respond.
“You know what makes my job difficult? People who think the police are psychic. They think if they provide a piece of the truth, enough to shield themselves or someone else, the police will have enough to solve the puzzle. You’re holding back.
