Beth Hundsdorfer - Murder on a Lonely Road

GEORGE PAWLACZYK
AND
BETH HUNDSDORFER

BERKLEY BOOKS, NEW YORK

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MURDER ON A LONELY ROAD

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Berkley premium edition / September 2012

Copyright 2012 by George Pawlaczyk and Beth Hundsdorfer.

Cover design by Oyster Pond Press.

Interior text design by Laura K. Corless.

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ISBN: 978-1-101-58148-3

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ALWAYS LEARNING

PEARSON

Special thanks to University at Albany journalism professor Rosemary Armao for her day-to-day help with the writing, and to: Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, our editor at The Berkley Publishing Group in New York City; Claire Gerus, our agent, owner of the Claire Gerus Literary Agency in Tucson; and to our bosses at the Belleville News-Democrat, Gary Dotson, city editor, and Jeffry Couch, executive editor, for their support. And we are very grateful to former Christian County Sheriff Dwight McNiel and his wife, Marcella, for their invaluable assistance.

O villain, villain, smiling damned villain.

HAMLET

The cowboy heard Hey! and spun around, but there was no chance to duck as a bucket of dirty mop water hit him in the face, cascaded down his chest, and flowed over his rodeo belt buckle, pooling in his shorts.

What the hell? he yelled, furious. And then, he saw her.

In the caf doorway a few feet away stood Jackie Johns, holding an empty mop bucket in trembling hands. The cowboy stepped back, astounded. The nicest, friendliest waitress at the Nixa Sale Barn Caf had just drenched him in foul water. And he knew he deserved it!

Jackie was smiling, but it wasnt the dazzling, sunny smile she had used since grade school to charm folks in town. This was a thin, determined victory smile, and there was no mistaking its message. Abashed and scowling, the cowboy left without another word.

For a moment, there was silence when Jackie stepped back into the caf. Then a few of her regular customers erupted in laughter, and one old boy who drove a cattle hauler actually applauded. Here was a real scrapper of a waitress, by golly. She could have been fired for dumping water on a paying customer, but hey, she was like them. She wouldnt take any crap from anybody, and they respected her for it.

The regulars all knew that the cowboy had pursued her for weeks, hanging around, getting in her way. Hed continued to ask her out, not taking kindly to her polite but firm rejections. When she wasnt looking, he took his petty revenge by loosening the tops on the salt and pepper shakers, then slipping salt into the creamers and chuckling as her customers spit out their food and hollered, Jackie!

Yeah, the cowboy had thought it was all a big joke and hed been making trouble just to get even. Now, the regulars figured he deserved what he got.

Meanwhile, Jackie seemed to savor all the drama. It was like when she and her best friend, twenty-year-old Lisa Fitzpatrick, would drive around in high school in Lisas station wagon, nicknamed the Sin Wagon, and boys in beat-up cars would give chase as Jackie would yell out, taunting them. Then Lisa would press the pedal to the floor and, with the boys on their tail, the girls would frantically escape into the driveway of Lisas parents house, where they would both run like crazy for the back door. When they dared look out a window, the boys would still be parked in front, which didnt really bother them. In fact, Jackie and Lisa would look at each other and burst into excited laughter.

That had been only two years ago.

Now it was 1985, and Jackie was out of high school and working two jobs. At nineteen Jackie was an attractive girl: a former prom queen, slender with dark brown hair that she always kept lacquered in place. She possessed a friendly directness that invited many of the cafs patrons to open up, and they often found themselves telling her their problems and discussing personal issues usually kept private. Her dad teasingly called her Ann Landers. Regulars would sit and chat as Jackie rolled silverware in napkins, swept the floors, or filled the salt and pepper shakers, and shed smile as they talked on and on.

As for what Jackie was really like when she wasnt being all perky and cute, her boss, Jerry Estes, probably knew her as well as anyone. He often told friends she was like a daughter to him, as shed worked at the caf since she was fifteen years old.

The Sale Barn Caf was a small restaurant just fifty or so yards off Highway 160 in Nixa. The diner-sized place was part of Jerrys much larger cattle operation, based in the auction barn behind the caf. Cattlemen and their helpers turn their trucks off Highway 160 onto the narrow side road that runs beside the caf to bring their stock to the huge auction barn filled with stalls for the steers. The barn was directly behind the caf and down a small hill. On auction days the caf would be jammed until perhaps an hour before the usual 10 P.M. closing time.