Free An Unmarked Grave by Kent Conwell

had uncovered. Why couldn't he
have had his own little celebration despite his feelings about
drinking? Hey, we all backslide.
    Next morning, I called Tricia to inform her I was pulling
out for Elysian Hills to pick up her brother's belongings. I
added, "It looks like your fears concerning your brother
and sister are unfounded"
    In a puzzled tone, she replied, "But what about the man
at the barbeque place?"
    I had expected her to ask that question, so I told her what
I surmised. "Obviously, Vanessa wanted to know what you
were up to. His name is Taggart, by the way" I paused,
then continued. "At first, I thought there might be a connection, but I have definite proof that Taggart was in Austin the
night your brother had his accident. He could not have been
in Elysian Hills"

    She paused, then replied, "I'm really confused now"
    With a chuckle, I replied, "Maybe you ought to ask
Vanessa to straighten you out."
    To my surprise, Tricia replied, "I might do that very thing,
although I still don't trust her. I still don't know how she
found out I was meeting you at the County Line."
    I chuckled. "Ask your maid."

     

he weather grew colder the farther north I drove.
    During the drive to Elysian Hills, I replayed all I knew
about Justin Chester. In a way, I felt guilty. If I had never located him, the poor guy might still be alive. From what I had
seen, he was as content as a new kitten with his janitor's
salary and his room behind the museum and his mission
to discover the spaceman. I couldn't help remembering
Narelle's wisecrack at the bar back in San Antonio. "Some
guys have all the luck."
    Some luck!
    By the time I reached the small community, I had convinced myself-probably because that's what I wanted to
believe-that the wreck was exactly what the justice of the
peace had ruled, an accident caused by an inebriated driver.
But that posed another question. Was Justin's discovery exciting enough to coax him into taking a drink, even though, according to him, alcohol made him sick? I shook my head.
It was times like this that I wished I were smarter.

    Despite the sunshine, the day was brittle cold with a chilling wind sweeping down across the prairie, cutting clean to
the bone.
    Sheriff Gus Perry looked up at me in surprise when I entered. He snorted. "Heard you was coming up" He grinned
apologetically. "Sorry I wasn't more help when you first
got here. I didn't recognize the picture, and I'd never heard
his name. Most around here called him UFO"
    I shrugged. "No problem. I'm here to pick up Justin's belongings, all his stuff."
    He pushed back from his desk. "Then I got something
for you" Opening the top drawer of the file cabinet behind
his desk, he pulled out a small accordion folder and handed
it to me. "This is all the stuff that was in his pickup" A
crooked grin played over his rugged face. "I left the empty
bourbon bottle on the floorboard. Didn't figure the family
would appreciate it." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
"The rest of his stuff is out at his room at the museum" He
shook his head and grunted. "Living in a dump like that after coming into all that money. It don't make sense"
    I could see no reason to try to explain Justin Chester to
the sheriff. I agreed. "No sense at all, Sheriff. Did anyone
see the wreck?" He frowned, and I explained. "The report
you and the JP filed was very thorough" A smug grin played
over his lips as I added, "His family appreciated it, but they
asked me to see if I could find out anything else. You know,
maybe who found him, that sort of thing. Personally, I don't think I would want to know, but-" I gave an indifferent
shrug. "But you know how it is"

    I suppressed a sigh of relief when he nodded.
    "Yeah? Well, if that's what they want. It was old Buck
Ford who called me. I'd gone home a couple hours early to
tend to a sick heifer. He's the one what found Chester.
Seems the man lost control of his old Ford pickup on Cemetery Road. Bounced