want Lightning to be
towed, so I found a place to park and then Lou and I found Herb Wainscott's
office. After we picked him up, we walked through a park to get to the
restaurant. Even though it was almost 1:30 , there were still people enjoying their lunch. Lou and I took Herb's
suggestion and soon found out that a Locomotive was a hamburger with about
everything on it. And the Kentucky Bacon Pie didn't have bacon in it. But both
of them were good. And filling. Eating all that reminded me of the way Lou and
I used to eat. I thought about leaving Lightning in LaGrange and walking to
Portwood's place in order to lose the weight I gained at lunch, until I found
out it was far enough that it might take me a few days to get there.
Getting to Westport wasn't a problem. It was a
straight shot from LaGrange. But getting to Portwood's place was a little more
difficult. I turned onto a tree-lined narrow country road, and then onto the
road that led to Portwood's place. Eventually I found a mailbox shaped like a
book with Portwood's name on it, so I figured I'd come to the right place. That
was good because the road dead-ended a few feet past Portwood's place. I pulled
Lightning into Portwood's driveway and got out. I enjoyed the country smell. I
could also tell that we were near the river. I assumed that's why the road
dead-ended. I noticed one house to the right, and another house across the
road. Herb told me both neighbors would probably be home, and he was right.
"Well, Lou, are you ready to
meet Portwood's neighbors?"
"Sounds better than your
suggestion of prison or another baptism."
"I haven't ruled those
out."
"I have, sight unseen."
"So, do you want to go with
me or sit here and see if someone stops by to poison you?"
"If I go, will I get to say anything?"
"Of course not."
"Then I'll go. Which one
first?"
"Let's start with the one
who's most likely to be innocent, the guy across the road."
Lou figured if I said a man was
innocent he was surely guilty, so he started looking for his handcuffs until he
remembered we were sort of retired. Unless we were doing a favor for a friend.
We crossed the road least traveled
without looking both ways. Bob Barney's place was a small house on the side
away from the river and set back only thirty or so feet from the road. I had
found out that Barney farms, but doesn't have it as rough in the late fall, so
he answered shortly after I knocked. I think it helped that he stood near the
picture window and watched us approach the house. I remembered that Herb had
told me that no one could sneak up on either of Portwood's neighbors.
20
The man who answered the door was
slightly above average in height and his full head of hair was a mixture of
brown and gray. Mixed together it looked sand colored. I pictured him to be in
his early sixties. He looked to be in good shape for his age.
"Don't get many visitors out
this way. You boys lost?"
"Not if you're Bob
Barney."
"Then I guess you're not
lost. Have we met?"
"Not until now. I'm Lt. Cy
Dekker and this is Sgt. Lou Murdock. We're investigating Cyril Portwood's
death."
"You're not from around here.
Why are you investigating?"
"I know Sheriff Wainscott. He
asked me to look into Portwood's death."
"Mind waiting here at the
door while I give the sheriff a call?"
"As long as it doesn't take
you a long time."
Barney closed the door and walked
away. Lou listened to me whistle the Jeopardy theme twice before Barney
returned. I was thankful he didn't have to stop and check something on the
stove.
"Sheriff says you're okay.
You might as well come in and be comfortable. But folks around here say the
coroner says the Colonel's death was an accident."
"The medical examiner where
I'm from, who did an autopsy, says he was murdered. The sheriff's inclined to
agree with him, so he asked for my help."
"Well, I didn't kill him.
Have a seat and tell me what I can help you with?"
Barney sat down in what I figured
was his chair and
towed, so I found a place to park and then Lou and I found Herb Wainscott's
office. After we picked him up, we walked through a park to get to the
restaurant. Even though it was almost 1:30 , there were still people enjoying their lunch. Lou and I took Herb's
suggestion and soon found out that a Locomotive was a hamburger with about
everything on it. And the Kentucky Bacon Pie didn't have bacon in it. But both
of them were good. And filling. Eating all that reminded me of the way Lou and
I used to eat. I thought about leaving Lightning in LaGrange and walking to
Portwood's place in order to lose the weight I gained at lunch, until I found
out it was far enough that it might take me a few days to get there.
Getting to Westport wasn't a problem. It was a
straight shot from LaGrange. But getting to Portwood's place was a little more
difficult. I turned onto a tree-lined narrow country road, and then onto the
road that led to Portwood's place. Eventually I found a mailbox shaped like a
book with Portwood's name on it, so I figured I'd come to the right place. That
was good because the road dead-ended a few feet past Portwood's place. I pulled
Lightning into Portwood's driveway and got out. I enjoyed the country smell. I
could also tell that we were near the river. I assumed that's why the road
dead-ended. I noticed one house to the right, and another house across the
road. Herb told me both neighbors would probably be home, and he was right.
"Well, Lou, are you ready to
meet Portwood's neighbors?"
"Sounds better than your
suggestion of prison or another baptism."
"I haven't ruled those
out."
"I have, sight unseen."
"So, do you want to go with
me or sit here and see if someone stops by to poison you?"
"If I go, will I get to say anything?"
"Of course not."
"Then I'll go. Which one
first?"
"Let's start with the one
who's most likely to be innocent, the guy across the road."
Lou figured if I said a man was
innocent he was surely guilty, so he started looking for his handcuffs until he
remembered we were sort of retired. Unless we were doing a favor for a friend.
We crossed the road least traveled
without looking both ways. Bob Barney's place was a small house on the side
away from the river and set back only thirty or so feet from the road. I had
found out that Barney farms, but doesn't have it as rough in the late fall, so
he answered shortly after I knocked. I think it helped that he stood near the
picture window and watched us approach the house. I remembered that Herb had
told me that no one could sneak up on either of Portwood's neighbors.
20
The man who answered the door was
slightly above average in height and his full head of hair was a mixture of
brown and gray. Mixed together it looked sand colored. I pictured him to be in
his early sixties. He looked to be in good shape for his age.
"Don't get many visitors out
this way. You boys lost?"
"Not if you're Bob
Barney."
"Then I guess you're not
lost. Have we met?"
"Not until now. I'm Lt. Cy
Dekker and this is Sgt. Lou Murdock. We're investigating Cyril Portwood's
death."
"You're not from around here.
Why are you investigating?"
"I know Sheriff Wainscott. He
asked me to look into Portwood's death."
"Mind waiting here at the
door while I give the sheriff a call?"
"As long as it doesn't take
you a long time."
Barney closed the door and walked
away. Lou listened to me whistle the Jeopardy theme twice before Barney
returned. I was thankful he didn't have to stop and check something on the
stove.
"Sheriff says you're okay.
You might as well come in and be comfortable. But folks around here say the
coroner says the Colonel's death was an accident."
"The medical examiner where
I'm from, who did an autopsy, says he was murdered. The sheriff's inclined to
agree with him, so he asked for my help."
"Well, I didn't kill him.
Have a seat and tell me what I can help you with?"
Barney sat down in what I figured
was his chair and
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