"Anything else? How about a stinky, nine-foot-tall hulk with an excess of body hair and real big feet?"
All eyes were on me as I went to the pay phone in the hallway, punched buttons, and made a collect call to the sheriff's department. When LaBelle answered, I told her to accept the call or spend the remainder of her life being stalked by whatever sexual deviants I could recruit from the state prison. Having sent a few there myself, I was sincere in my threat.
"I am not permitted to accept collect calls," she said as soon as the operator had reluctantly exited the connection, which was undoubtedly the highlight of her shift. "The quorum court recently hired an auditor to make sure-"
"Let me speak to Harve."
"He's over at his sister's house, it being her twentieth wedding anniversary. You could have slapped me silly with a pom-pom when he told me they'd been married that long. I was in school with Jerrilynda, you know, and I always figured she'd take off with some roustabout from a carnival. She had a thing about tattoos and what she referred to as manly odors."
"Listen carefully, LaBelle," I said. "I'm going to give you a telephone number. Track down Harve and tell him to call me back immediately. Understand?"
"His budget's-"
"Remember Siffalus Buchanon, the guy with the glass eye and fondness for barbed wire? He should be getting out on parole any day now."
She spat back the number after I gave it to her, then slammed down the receiver. I sat down on the end stool and waited for the pay phone to ring, refusing to look at the trio of troglodytes, Rachael, or Corporal Robarts.
Corporal Robarts finally found the courage to approach me. "You called Sheriff Dorfer, right?"
"This cannot wait until you speak to your chief in the morning. There is a corpse in the woods, and quite possibly a child cowering underneath a ledge."
"This ain't your jurisdiction."
"No, it's not," I said. "It is, however, Sheriff Dorfer's, especially with your police chief out of commission. He's not going to like it, but he'll send some backup to retrieve the body and start the investigation. So why don't you run along back to your mama's and have your apple pie and ice cream?"
"Chief Panknine's gonna be real pissed."
"So's Sheriff Dorfer when he's obliged to leave the festivities and call me. You have three options here: tuck your tail and run, take the call and behave like the acting law enforcement agent, or sit down on that stool and allow me to take charge. I really don't care."
Sweat dotted his forehead as it must have done a very few years ago when he'd faced an exam in high-school algebra. "Are you sure you saw this body?"
"Tell you what," I said, "let's drive out to the campground and you can see for yourself. I can't draw you a map, but I can point you in the right direction."
"What about the child?"
"I don't know, but if we're still here when the phone rings, I'm going to tell Sheriff Dorfer about your blatant ineptitude and request that his department take charge of the investigation. You won't even get your name in the local newspaper-if there is one."
"Go on," said Rachael from behind the counter. "I'll make your excuses when the sheriff calls."
He gave me a mulish look. "I can't just go off on your say-so. I got a prisoner over at the police department."
I glanced at the pay phone. "LaBelle's talking to Sheriff Dorfer as we speak. He'll harrumph for a few minutes, then get rid of her and call me back. When he does, he'll be about as happy as a boar with ticks on its balls. You're going to have to deal with him sooner or later, but you'd better have your act together when you do. He's got a temper, and he doesn't suffer fools."
"You saying I'm a fool?"
I would have felt sorry for him if I hadn't been so frustrated, as well as wet, hungry, covered with scratches, and splattered with mud. "It's up to you."
"All right," he said with the bravado of John Wayne eying the Apache warriors on the crest of the mountain. "We can drive out and take a look. Rach, if Sheriff Dorfer calls, get his number and tell him I'll report when I know more. If there's a body like she says, I most likely will need assistance. If there's not, he can call her over at the police department, 'cause she's gonna be in the cell with her neighbor from back home in Maggody."
"Got a flashlight?" I asked as we headed for the door.
"Hold on." He went back to the counter and had a whispered conversation with Rachael. Eventually she slammed a flashlight into his hand and suggested, loudly enough to be heard not only by me but also by the rapt audience in the corner, that he'd better haul his sorry ass out the door before the phone rang.
He gestured for me to climb into his car, which lacked an insignia or a blue bubble on its roof. "Chief Panknine's wife is driving the official vehicle," he explained as we drove toward Camp Pearly Gates. "Hers is in the shop, and what with her needing to go to the hospital every day, I couldn't see asking her to turn it over. The town council's considering the purchase of a second vehicle."
"I can't even get new pencils out of mine," I said, relaxing a bit. I'd been rough with him, but I figured I'd need his help. "Tell me something, Corporal Robarts. When I talked to you earlier today, you said something about Rachael and others like her. I can't recollect the names, but I had the impression that she's not here on her own. You have to admit she's got an odd sense of style. What's the deal?"
"I think we got us enough to deal with right now. Here's the gate."
"Go on down the road. I left a pile of stones as a marker."
"Like that place in England?"
"No, I lacked the energy to construct a scale model of Stonehenge. Maybe next time." I watched the road carefully. "Stop here."
The rain had slackened, and the thunderstorm had finally gone on its way. It was getting dark, however, and neither of us could rally much enthusiasm as we got out of his car and regarded the ditch filled with what I knew from personal experience was cold water.
"Up this way?" he said.
I nodded. "Not too far."
As much as I would have preferred to send him on his own, I scrambled up the bank, grabbed the same sapling that had served me well earlier, and offered him my hand. He took it with obvious reluctance. Once I yanked him alongside of me, with perhaps a tad more vigor than required, we set off up the hill. Larry Joe and I had not blazed a trail, but I followed the sound of water and we eventually saw the white-clad figure.
"You left her like this?" he said.
"She wasn't in danger of drowning. Do you recognize her?"
He squatted and studied her face, then stood up. "Yeah, she went by the name of Ruth, and was helping Sarah at the church. I don't know her real name, though."
"I have a feeling she doesn't have a driver's license in her pocket." I pointed at the softball bat. "That's liable to be the weapon. We brought some equipment to the field earlier today; it's possible that this was in the bag."
"So," Corporal Robarts said, switching from John Wayne to Columbo, "you brought the weapon and your driver's been arrested. Is this a church group or a street gang?"
I considered the pleasure I would have if I coerced him into asking Mrs. Jim Bob that very question, then let it go and said, "I need to stop by the lodge before we go back to call Sheriff Dorfer."
"To make sure they have alibis?"
"To make sure everybody's okay." I headed toward the road, and after a moment, he stumbled along behind me. We did not speak as he drove to the lodge, and I told him to wait in the car while I went inside.