Fool's Puzzle by Earlene Fowler (reading eggs books .TXT) 📕

know, by the dairy. We got chips, a couple of cans of pop, some beef jerky. Then we came back to the museum and just sorta hung out. Me and Eric talked. Marla was working. Then she and Eric went into the museum to talk. They got into a little spat. Then he came out and told me Marla wanted us to go get some beer.”

“What was the fight about?”

She stuck her mangled straw back into her drink and shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really listen to them. Marla was pissed, though. Something he was supposed to do that he didn’t.”

“Sounds like Eric, all right.” I wondered what he would be doing for Marla. “What time did you leave to get the beer?”

“Nine-thirty, maybe?” She twisted her face in concentration. “It didn’t take long and when we got back, she was ...” She choked back a small sob.

“Why did you leave, Rita? Why didn’t you call the police? Or the paramedics? She might have still been alive.”

Remembering how much blood there’d been, I seriously doubted it, but I was angry at Rita’s callous departure. I couldn’t imagine doing that to anyone.

“Eric told me to,” she said with a small whine. I resisted the urge to slap her. “He said she was already dead and there was nothing we could do about it. He said if we hung around, they’d just try and pin it on one of us. He’s had experience with the police. He knows.” She looked at me defiantly. “He said it’d all die down after a while.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “When I saw you driving away, you were alone. What happened to Eric?”

“He was in the van. He just ducked down when we saw you coming.”

“You are such a dope.” I hit the table with my fist. “Did it ever occur to you that people knew you were with her that evening? Do you know what that looks like to the police? I had to tell them the only person I actually saw leaving the scene was you. I just can’t believe this. I have absolutely no idea how to help you.”

“That’s why I need some money to get out of town. Skeeter has some friends in ...”

I held my hand up. “Don’t tell me where. I don’t want to know. That way I don’t have to lie.”

“They’ll find who did it and they won’t even need me. Please, Benni, I’m scared.”

“You should be,” I said. But I was, too. Just how was Eric involved in this? Could he have killed Marla? I hadn’t seen him since last night and I was willing to bet the police hadn’t caught up with him either. Would the police give her twenty-four-hour protection until they caught whoever killed Marla? I doubted it.

“Was Eric with you the whole time at the liquor store?” I asked.

“Mostly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He had to get gas so he left for a while.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” she said in exasperation. “I wasn’t keeping track. Fifteen, twenty minutes maybe. What does it matter?”

I looked at her with disbelief. It really hadn’t occurred to her that Eric could have murdered Marla.

“Think about it, Rita.”

She looked at me with glazed, sullen eyes. A flicker of understanding caused them to widen. “You mean ...”

“I think you’d better come back and tell the police what you just told me. Then we’ll figure out how to hide you so Eric can’t find you.”

“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly.

“No way, sugar,” a nasally voice said behind me. Mr. Belt Buckle—Skeeter—slid into the booth next to Rita. “Ain’t no way you’re going back there with that nut out there.” He looked at me with damp, squinty eyes, a knight in denim armor. “When they catch this guy, then she can come back.”

“They need her as a witness,” I said.

“Not until they catch him,” he replied and drained the rest of her drink. “Till then, I’ll look out for her.”

I rubbed my temples, advance therapy for a headache I knew was coming. “And what am I suppose to tell the police? Not to mention Aunt Garnet.”

“You’re a sharp gal. You’ll think of something,” Skeeter drawled. “We’ll keep in touch.” He slid out of the booth, pulling a stunned-looking Rita with him.

“Well, leave the message at the county jail,” I said, “because that’s where I’ll probably be staying.”

Skeeter laughed and adjusted his stained white Stetson.

“Benni,” Rita said in a small voice. “The money?”

I cocked my head at Skeeter expectantly.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “I’m brave, but I’m broke.”

I pulled out my purse and held out the money. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Thanks.” She stuffed it into her small white purse.

They were halfway across the bar when I remembered something.

“Wait,” I said. “You never finished the story. What happened after you and Eric drove away from the museum? Where did you go?”

“I dropped him off downtown, in front of the court-house, and I did what he told me with the van.”

“And what was that?”

“I drove it down the coast to Santa Maria and left it in a grocery store parking lot with the keys inside. Then I called Skeeter to come pick me up. We went to my place, got my stuff and split.”

“All right,” I said wearily. “At least let me know you’re okay.”

I sat at the bar for a long time after they left, debating with myself about whether I’d done the right thing. Not that it mattered now. I had no choice but to go to the police. I touched my fingers to my now pounding temples. Not tonight. And I certainly wasn’t going to ruin my holiday tomorrow. I was already in so deep, what difference could one day make? Especially since I had no idea where Rita was going. I picked up my purse and started to walk toward the door.

“Hey,” the bartender called. “The drink.”

“I didn’t have anything,” I said.

“Your friend said you’d pay for hers. That’ll be three bucks.”

“She’s no friend.” I threw the money down