Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 44, No. 4, April 1980

“He was sometimes. He didn’t use to be, but he started getting mad a lot. He used to take care of us when Mama hit us, but then he started hitting us, too.”

I pointed at the burn on his hand. “Did your mother do that?”

He nodded, but he wouldn’t look at me now. He was too ashamed.

“The sheriff is coming over here soon, Jackie, and when he gets here, I want you to tell him about how your mother hurts you. Okay?”

Before he could answer, Elaine Wheeler screeched from the door of the trailer, “You bastard! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She rushed down the stairs. “Get away from my kids! You’re trying to turn them against me, that’s what you’re doing! Just like John did!”

I stood up and she aimed a slap at my face. I caught her wrist and clamped down on it, maybe harder than I had intended to. She gasped.

“You leave my mother alone!”

Jackie’s little fist pounded against my leg. Cindy began to cry. I said, “Damn,” and dropped Elaine Wheeler’s wrist.

The sound of a car stopping made me turn. Cartwright was getting out, a tired look on his face. Right behind him was Ralph Barrett, scowling as usual.

“I was over at Barrett’s when the call came in that you wanted to see me, Markham,” Cartwright said. “What’s it about? Have you found Wheeler?”

I jerked my head toward the kids. “Let’s take a walk. Why don’t you come, too, Barrett?”

The three of us went out into the road. I kept my voice as low as I said, “I found Wheeler, all right, Sheriff, but he’s dead.”

Cartwright caught his exclamation in time, but Barrett blurted loudly, “Dead?”

Elaine’s head jerked up. I couldn’t read the expression on her face. It could have been either joy or grief.

“There’s a trail that turns off of the highway at that old gas station,” I went on. “Wheeler’s body is with the car, a couple of miles up that road.”

Cartwright rubbed his jaw. “I’d forgotten all about that old trail. Nobody ever uses it anymore. It just winds up into the hills and then peters out. What happened to Wheeler?”

“He was shot. I’ve got the gun that probably did it in my car. I’m no expert, but it looks like he’s been dead since last night.”

“I’ll get right up there.”

“Something else, Sheriff. There’s two of Barrett’s men up there, too.”

“What are you talking about, Markham?” Barrett blustered.

I swung to face him. “You had them follow me, Barrett, in case I found Wheeler. You were hoping that I would. You wanted somebody besides the sheriff to find him first, so that you’d have a chance to get this back.” I pulled the little book from my pocket.

Barrett was surprised and didn’t think. He made a grab for it. I jerked it back and then handed it to the sheriff. “I’d be willing to bet that if you took this book and questioned Barrett’s men about those shipments, you’d find somebody willing to admit that Barrett’s been hauling illegal aliens. That book is his record of that little sideline.”

“You’re crazy!” Barrett snapped. “Next thing, you’ll be saying that I killed Wheeler.”

“No, I don’t think you did,” I said, hating to admit it. “If you had, you would have taken that book with you and then left the body for Cartwright to find eventually.”

Cartwright was flipping through the book. “I don’t see where this is proof of anything, Markham.”

“What else would Barrett be hauling from the border year ’round? And if it wasn’t something illegal, why didn’t he keep a record of it with his regular paperwork? I think Wheeler found out about it and took the book to blackmail his father-in-law.”

Barrett’s fists doubled up and he took a step toward me. “You dirty liar! I’ll—”

“You’ll shut up and stand still, Ralph,” Cartwright snapped. “We’ll get this all straightened out, don’t worry. If you’re telling the truth, I’m sure you won’t mind me asking your boys some questions.”

Barrett paled. He still wasn’t thinking. He lunged for the book in Cartwright’s hand. The sheriff moved it out of the way, put his other hand in Barrett’s chest, and shoved him back. “Now that wasn’t a smart thing to do, Ralph, not at all. Makes me think Markham might be on to something. Why don’t you go sit in the car until I’m through here?”

I could see defeat on Barrett’s face now. He took a deep, shuddery breath and trudged slowly back to the sheriff’s car.

As Cartwright turned back to me, I said, “I had to wound one of Barrett’s boys. I think by the time you get out there, they’ll be only too happy to spill all of it to you.”

Cartwright frowned. “I’ve known Ralph Barrett for a long time, Markham, and I can’t help but think you may be right about him. I’d appreciate it if you would stay around until we find out for sure, though.”

“I didn’t plan on going anywhere.”

Cartwright wiped away the sweat that was trickling into his eyes. I followed his gaze and saw Elaine Wheeler watching us intently, with Jackie and Cindy peeking around from behind her.

“This leaves us with even more of a problem, Markham. If Barrett or his men didn’t kill Wheeler, who did?”