Pretty is as Pretty Dies: Myrtle Clover #1

Chapter Five

Crazy Dan's little piece of the world was located out on the rural route highway that had been a major thoroughfare before the advent of the interstate system. The rural route was dotted by deserted roadside motels, old farms with some dwarfed cotton stalks that looked like dried-up sticks, and bait shops with beer signs in the windows.

The number of Jesus signs increased in proportion to the distance from Bradley. They started out "Jesus Saves" and got less-comforting as she drove on out. By the time Myrtle was out in the sticks, the signs warned her of the imminent loss of her soul. She passed little bitty houses with big satellite dishes on the roof and an expensive pick-up in the driveway. A series of rotting wooden signs proclaimed "CRAZY Dan's Boil P-Nuts, Hubcaps, Fireworks (Fireworks was long-since crossed off, due to state law), Live Bait!" Next to it was a weather-beaten sign that looked like a palm with "Madam Zora, psychic" written on it. Actually, it had "sykick" on it, but Myrtle deciphered the meaning. Apparently, Madam Zora also read "tarro cards."

"One stop shopping," muttered Myrtle as she pulled Erma's car off the street and onto a barren stretch of red clay that Myrtle guessed was the parking lot. Most of the yard looked that way, though. The house was the most startling thing on the lot. At least, Myrtle guessed there was a house lurking underneath the hubcaps. Everything from the roof down was completely covered with every type of hubcap imaginable. Only a couple of dirty windows remained uncovered. She sat in the car and just stared at it. What did it sound like during a rainstorm? Who would do something like this? The kind of person who would have information about a murder, she decided. She grabbed her cane from the passenger's seat and opened the car door.

Since no one had come out, she made her way up to the front door of the hubcap house. She could see no discernible doorbell and the door was completely covered by hubcaps. How was she supposed to let him know she was there? She rapped at a hubcap with her cane, which made a metallic reverberating sound, and she was rewarded by an opening door. Staring at her was a grizzly little man with bony features, leathery skin, mangy-looking stubble, and nicotine-stained hands. He glared at her. "Whatcha want?"

Some salesman. "What if I told you I wanted boiled peanuts or hubcaps? Aren't you in business to sell things to people?"

He grunted. "Ain't got no boil peanuts. You want hubcaps, jest looka th' house." He started to close the door and Myrtle stuck her cane in the doorway. He raised wispy eyebrows and said, "Whatchadoin'? You crazy?"

"No, but you are. They call you Crazy Dan for some reason. I need to talk to you for a minute." When he motioned her into his shadowy and rather rank-smelling house, she added, "Outside will be fine."

Outside really wasn't fine. It was probably over 100 degrees, although Myrtle had a feeling Crazy Dan's house wasn't much better. She saw a decrepit window unit sagging out of one window, propped up by a couple of hubcaps. The unit made a sluggish, chugging sound, then stopped abruptly. Crazy Dan reached out and slapped the back of it, spawning it into a lethargic-sounding drone. How he lived in the South in a home that resembled a giant sun-catcher without central air, Myrtle couldn't figure. Crazy Dan's mutts lay in shadows of bushes, trees, and the house, apparently only moving when the shadow moved or to wet their whistles in their water bowls.

He was working on a huge wad of chewing tobacco, which had apparently just gotten to the right point to spit out. Squinting over at a spot, he spat out a stream of the brown juice to splatter in the red dust.

Myrtle was starting to feel as though she'd walked through the looking glass. She knew there was information to be had, but couldn't figure out for the life of her what Crazy Dan could possibly know. About anything.