are in on it?" So many people worked at Winthrop's, at least twenty men and four or five women who did office work. Added to the staff of the Winthrop-owned lumber and home supply business right next door... and there was Winthrop Oil...
"No, not by a long shot. Only three or four men at the Sporting Goods place, that I've been able to make sure of. And a couple, maybe three men from the place next door. Plus a few guys who just joined in, like Tom David and the one you told me was Cleve Ragland. The day they came to steal back the bags at the Winthrops' house, they were in Cleve Ragland's car."
Since Jack was in a tell-all mood, I decided I would ask as many questions as I could.
"What was in the black bags?"
"Guns. And rifles. For the past four years Jim Box has been the man who ordered for the store. Someone got the bright idea for Jim to order a little more than he thought Winthrop's could sell. Then they were going to stage a robbery and list those arms as stolen, which is why that excuse popped into their minds so quickly last night, I guess. They'd figured if they set up a robbery, no one could blame the store - Howell - if the guns were used for illegal stuff. Instead of walking out with one weapon at a time, they began stockpiling what they wanted in the storeroom at the back of the store in two black bags, waiting for the right moment to stage the break-in. They should've gone on and moved their pile after Del died, but we're not talking big brains here."
"Then you and Howell took the bags."
"Yeah, everyone in on it was gone to lunch, so we loaded them into Howell's car and drove out to his house." He kissed me. "The day I saw you there. You had the strangest expression on your face."
"I couldn't figure you two out. I was thinking you and Howell were maybe - thataway."
Jack laughed out loud. "Beanie's safe."
"Why did you put them in Howell's house?"
"We wanted to see who'd come after them. We knew by then who on Howell's payroll was involved, but not the names of the rest of the group. I also figured lying concealed in Howell's house would be safer than hiding at the store every night, waiting for the staged burglary to take place. So Howell told Darcy about this strange cache of arms he'd found in the store, how he thought he'd keep them at his house until he decided whether he should call the police or not."
"Wasn't that just a little more dangerous for Howell and his family?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
"Well, I knew the day they were going to try. And Howell has this conviction they won't hurt him or his family. He has this weird sense of - like he owes them, because they work for him. He doesn't even seem to want to turn them in when he finds out who it is ... and he wants to know exactly. It's strange. He doesn't want anyone falsely accused, and I can respect that. But it's like there's something he's not telling me."
I should have listened to that sentence harder, mulled over it like I mulled over so many things. But I was still trying to understand Jack and Howell's plan of action. So far, frankly, it didn't seem that much better than the thieves'. "So you hid out in Beanie's closet. To wait and see who came to call."
"Yeah. And you came in. I knew who you were the minute you hit me, but I didn't know your name."
"You hadn't heard the men talk?"
"I'd heard people mention Lily, but I didn't know that was you. You didn't look like any maid I'd ever seen, or any karate expert, either. Or any weight lifter."
"What did I look like?" I asked, very close to his face.
"Like the most exciting woman I'd ever seen."
Every now and then, Jack said exactly the right thing.
He whispered, "I wanted to touch you. I just wanted to lay my hands on you." He demonstrated. "When Howell heard about the bomb he called me and told me to go down to the hospital to verify how many hurt and dead there were. He knew it would seem strange if he did it. He's sure one of his employees set the bomb, and he wanted to