As it turned out, the divers were brothers with records and spent some time in jail for petty crimes. The younger one, was Carl and the oldest was Karl with a ‘K’. He said he was named after his uncle . . . Keith.
“Huh?” Carson scratched his head.
Karl sensed the confusion and said, “Keith starts with a ‘K’ and so does Karl.”
Carson shook his head in amazement and pointed at his badge. “Well, I’m the sheriff and it starts with an ‘S’ but how it ends is up to you.”
Both Carson and Hawkins interrogated the (K)Carls. I quietly listened behind a curtain, and there was a slit that allowed me to watch without being noticed.
The brothers were the muscle not the brains, no where smart enough to run a dog-fighting ring. They were brought in separately and each grilled by the sheriff and the investigator. Karl with a ‘K’ was the first to be questioned. Inspector Hawkins asked what he knew about the woman found in the quarry to get a reaction from him.
Both brothers claimed they knew nothing, which in a way wasn’t hard to believe. Neither was the sharpest pencil in the drawer, and they could be manipulated. Karl said they were called in after the girl was murdered.
“Murdered? I didn’t say anything about murder.” Carson squinted his eyes.
Karl squirmed in his chair. “I just assumed. She was found at the bottom of the quarry. That doesn’t seem like an accident.”
“It could’ve been if she was drunk, right?” Hawkins pried.
“Look, I don’t know anything about the girl. My brother and me don’t get involved in that kinda stuff.”
“The girl was shot three times with a 22 caliber weapon.” Carson explained. “she was dead before the car took a nose dive into the quarry.”
After questioning both, the sheriff brought Karl back in and showed him a money bag that he said was found in Carl’s backpack.
“I don’t know what you think about this.” Lifting up the bag. “But this looks like a money bag. I think your brother was holding out on you.”
“That can’t be. We were together the whole time.”
“The money was never at the kid’s house. That was a lie to get you there.” Carson picked up a pen and note pad. “I think Carl had it and was just playing along.”
“You have no proof that bag contained any money.”
Hawkins sniffed the bag. “Did you ever smell money?” He dropped the bag on the table. “This bag smells like money.” He took a dollar bill from his wallet. “Smell this.” The inspector held the bill to Karl’s nose.
He sniffed the bill then the bag. “That no good son-of-a-bitch.” Karl’s face turned red with rage.
“Tell us your side. It’ll be easier on you, than having to beat it out of you.” Carson turned his chair around and straddled it.
Karl told his story, but swore neither; he nor his brother had anything to do with the girl’s murder. They were just called in to retrieve the money then kept on to work the dog-fighting competition. No one was sure how much Lindy had taken from the stash, so when the rumor mill started about more money they were told to find it. Tad was terrible at keeping records, which really upset the boss man.
Hawkins leaned forward. “Who’s the boss man?”
“No one but Tad has met him or even talked with him on the phone.” Karl insisted. The divers were locked up in the county jail for trespassing and endangering the life of a minor.
* * *
The next morning out of habit all the boys showed up at G-Ma’s and were welcomed as always. Neither the sheriff nor inspector was there. None of the boys or grandma knew what the next move was going to be. They did know that somehow they needed to find out who the bossman was, but how? It was in Tad’s best interest to keep quiet. They would have to trick him to get the information.
Since G-Ma was on the inside, she would need to be the one to pry some information out of Tad. She borrowed Kevin’s tape recorder, hid it in her carpetbag purse to take to Wilkie’s place. She planned to tell him she came to collect the money he owed her.
* * *
When Parker arrived at the estate she immediately noticed something seemed off. Tad appeared suspicious of her, but she ignored her senses and followed him into the parlor. A couple of his guys were sitting there, guzzling beers. It looked like they had been drinking for a while. He told Parker to wait while he got her the money. G-ma quietly pressed the record button as she waited for Tad to return. Something was definitely off, she sensed a negative vibe from the guys in the parlor.
She decided to question them. “What’s with you guys? Is something wrong?”
The skinny one’s lip quivered. “Tad says we have a snitch on the crew.”
“Why? What did he say?”
He stretched his long legs. “That’s just it, he didn’t say much so we’re kinda on edge. We all look suspicious to Tad.”
Just then Tad walked back into the parlor holding an envelope, which he handed to Parker. She took it, said thanks, and headed to the door. But he stopped her and said. “Follow me, I want to show you something.”
The hair stood up on the back of her neck. “Can this wait till later? I got some pies in the oven that won’t wait for nobody.”
“It won’t take long.” Tad held the door open to his office. The room was full of trophies from the hunting trips he took. He directed her to sit, then handed her a stuffed bird.
“What’s this for?” Parker asked.
Wilkie smiled. “It’s a pigeon.” He crossed his arms. “Pigeons were used as decoys to draw the prey into a net. A live pigeon was tied to a stool. When it was moved the pigeon’s wings fluttered attracting other birds.”
Trying to stay calm and in control, Parker said, “That’s fascinating, but who gives a pigeon crap about that.”
“Well, we both know the more common meaning . . . don’t we?” Tad looked smug as he leaned back in his chair. “The big boss is pointing his finger in your direction.”
“Are you calling me a stool pigeon?” Tad strolled to the door then opened it to call the two guys. Parker reached down to into her huge purse when his back was turned and shoved the tape recorder behind a shelf.
Tad signaled for the guys to take Parker. “Grandma’s real tired. Take her to the guest room and lock the door. We don’t need anyone to disturb her.”
* * *
The boys waited at G-ma’s until well past the time she was expected to return. I finally spoke up. “Something has happened. She should have been back long ago.”
“You’re right Kevin.” Frank pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “We need to go see the sheriff.”
* * *
When the boys showed up at the station, the sheriff was going over some paperwork.
Mike was the first to notice. “What’s up Sheriff? You looked puzzled.”
“I can’t say right now, but pieces aren’t fitting into place with this woman’s murder.” Carson looked up. “What are you boys doing here?”
“We think Grandma’s in trouble.” Frank said, “She went to Wilkie’s but hasn’t returned.”
“Yeah, we think something bad happened,” my voice broke. “She’s been gone too long.”
“That doesn’t sound like a big problem Parker can handle herself.”
“Yes, but she took my tape recorder.” I explained. “She was going to try to get Tad to spill the beans on the boss man.”
“Agh! That was a terrible idea.” Carson furrowed his brow. “If she was caught recording him, she’s in big trouble.”
“Should we tell the inspector?” Mike fidgeted with a pencil taken from the sheriff’s desk.
“Hawkins has another important case he’s working or the other side of the county, so he’s not around right now.” The sheriff signaled for his deputy to come over. “Stay here boys. Me and my deputy need to talk.”
* * *
The bossman called Tad and told him to meet him at Cutthroat Daycare and Tattoo Parlor, an abandoned business, down the street from the hotel. There were some important issues that needed to be discussed. Tad didn’t like the idea of an offsite meeting, but it was the only way the boss could keep his identity secret.
The door was locked when Tad arrived. Torn, faded flyers still taped to window offered a discount on tattoos for kids five and up. No wonder this place was out-of-business. The boss unlocked the door and let him in.
“Why are we meeting here?” Tad asked, “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Do you?” The boss inquired, “Where’s Parker?”
“She ain’t goin nowhere.” Tad assured him, “Got her locked up in a bedroom.”
“You said that about the kid . . . and where is he?”
“We’ll find him. He can’t have gone far.” Tad leaned on the desk. “Probably drowned in the pond.”
“There’s too many things that have gone wrong.” The boss paced the room. “Loose ends will do us in.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” Tad held his hands up.
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