Read Online Death in the Pines by Thom Hartmann - Free Book Online

His living room looked as if it had been decorated by a taxidermist with delusions of grandeur. Deer heads, a moose head, a bobcat, and a baby bear stared at me with glass eyes. A flat high-definition TV screen not quite as large as a billboard occupied most of the wall beside the front door, and in its light spill I saw a sagging sofa and a cracked recliner, with small tables beside each of them cluttered with stuffed weasels, a family of rabbits, and a skunk. I imagined that I could smell it, but the sour air was really just full of the odors of dust, old wood, and moldy hides.
    Grinder half-sat, half-lay in the recliner. Lucy, an obese woman of fifty—I assumed she was his wife, but Grinder had just introduced her with “This’s Lucy”—was on the far end of the couch, wrapped in a flower-patterned house dress and munching stolidly on popcorn. They had been watching a show about a snotty young guy who faked being a psychic and showed up the ordinary cops. They didn’t look away from the screen as I talked to them, but Grinder, at least, answered my questions.
    â€œThe woman that found him? Her name’s Tammy, Tammy Ehrlman. Lives in Riverton. Her old man is—what is he, Lucy?”
    â€œTown selectman,” Lucy said. “Tammy’s a good girl.”
    â€œIs she in the phone book?”
    He flipped a hand toward an end table. A Princess phone, a real antique of the sort that shows up on eBay, sat atop a dogeared and oil-stained local telephone directory. I opened it and squinted in the light of the TV until I found a listing for Ehrlman. I took out my cell phone and dialed it. A man answered.
    â€œIs Tammy there?” I asked.
    â€œWho’s calling?” His tone sounded more bored than protective.
    â€œMy name is Oakley Tyler. I was a friend of Jeremiah Smith’s.”
    A pause, then, “Tammy can’t come to the phone, Mr. Tyler. She’s sedated. Got all shook up finding him there, so she took a sleeping pill and went to bed. She needs to sleep it off.”
    â€œCan you tell me if she was driving her own car when she found Mr. Smith?”
    â€œShe was.”
    â€œDoes it have Vermont plates?”
    â€œWhat? Sure. And the tag’s current.”
    â€œDoes anyone in the household have out-of-state plates?”
    â€œWhat?” he asked again. “No. Why?”
    â€œI’m trying to locate a possible witness,” I said.
    â€œWell, I think you’d need more to go on than that,” he said. “Look, I don’t know of anybody around here who drives a car with out-of-state plates, OK? If you want to talk to Tammy, she’ll be at work in the morning.”
    He hung up on me. Before I could put my phone back in my pocket, Lucy’s moon face turned toward me, her eyes wide. “What about out-of-state license plates?”
    â€œI had a lead that a car seen near the site of the accident had out-of-state plates.”
    â€œCan’t be anybody from here. You live here, you got to get Vermont plates.” She creased her forehead. “I don’t get out much. Bill, you seen anybody driving around town with out-of-state plates?”
    â€œShit, no,” he said. The show broke for a commercial. Grinder frowned at Lucy and said, “You got to talk all the damn time? Whyn’t you haul your ass back up the street and watch your own damn TV?”
    She gave him an indignant look. “You invited me over! I made dinner for you and Jeremiah.”
    â€œAnd we ate it, didn’t we? You want a medal?”
    â€œI want you to answer this man’s question,” she said. “Stop stalling, Bill. Anybody around here driving with out-of-state plates?”
    He glared at her, but he said, “I see ’em all the time. People coming up for the skiing, or the fall colors. Go hiking in the summer.” He turned to me. “Guess you ain’t figured out that this is kind of a tourist town.