Cat and Mouse by William Campbell Gault Read Free Book Online Page B

“Nowicki was here this morning. He thinks there’s a possibility now that I might get out on bail. But it would take more money than I can raise.”
    “If it happens,” I said, “I’ll pay for the bond. You can work it off by guarding the house again.”
    “He could even stay with us,” Mrs. Casey suggested. “I’m sure he wouldn’t charge as much as those guards you hired. And he’d be getting his meals free.”
    That should run up our grocery bill. Mrs. Casey goes gourmet when Corey is eating with us.
    The mailman came right after lunch and I went out to get it. Our only first-class mail was a postcard, another seven-word message. It read: “You can’t hide forever. I’ll be back.” It was postmarked from Los Angeles.
    “Any interesting mail?” Jan asked.
    “Just the garbage mail,” I told her. “I have to take a short trip this afternoon, but I’ll be home before dinner.”
    “Trip to where?”
    “To Tritown.”
    “What’s in Tritown?”
    “A former cop friend,” I lied. “He could have some information I need.”
    I put the card in an envelope and took it with me to the sheriff’s station. McClune was out for lunch; I gave it to the fingerprint man.
    It had occurred to me this morning while I was waiting for Mrs. Casey that though Jasper Belton’s parents had moved to Arizona, he could still have friends in town. Through the gray parched hills I drove for fifteen miles and then down the long winding road that led into the verdant green of Avocado Valley.
    It is a town of about three thousand inhabitants, many of them retired farm families. There were cars on the high-school parking lot; they obviously had a summer session.
    The principal was in his outer office, a thin gray-haired man in blue slacks and a blue-and-white-striped golf shirt.
    I told him I had come from San Valdesto to get what information he might have on Jasper Belton.
    “Are you a police officer?”
    I shook my head. “I’m retired now. But I work with the police in town occasionally. Sort of a—oh, community service.”
    Jasper, he told me, had been a puzzle to him, a lad who had the capability of being an honor student but maintained a running dispute with all of his teachers.
    “He seemed determined to become our leading anti-establishment student. He reveled in controversy. And the rowdies he hung around with encouraged him. He was the only bright boy in the group.” He shook his head. “What a waste!”
    “Does he have any relatives in town?”
    “A stepsister. But I would suggest you don’t question her. She is furious about the fact that Mr. Belton didn’t phone her from Arizona to tell her about—about what happened, not until two days later.”
    “It’s possible,” I explained, “that the police hadn’t located his parents before then. My mission is to find Jasper’s murderer.”
    “I see.” He frowned. “I don’t know what to advise you to do. If you want, I’ll phone her and explain the situation.”
    “I’d appreciate it.”
    I didn’t hear the conversation; he phoned from his inner office. When he came out, he was smiling. “You were right. Mr. Belton phoned her this morning and explained the police delay.” He handed me a card. “Here is her name and address.”
    Mrs. James Patino lived at 425 Orchard Lane. He gave me the directions to the house.
    It was a small two-story white frame house with a house-wide screened front porch, right out of the Midwest corn belt.
    A short, slim blonde girl wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt was waiting for me on the porch. She asked, “Are you the officer from San Valdesto?”
    I nodded.
    “I only have an hour before leaving for Arizona,” she said. “My husband is coming home from work to drive me to the Temple airport.”
    “I’ll be brief. I have two reasons to want to find the man who killed Jasper. First of all, he meant to get me. Second, when he decided he couldn’t, he framed a young friend of mine. I have reason to believe the man