Rachel rolled her eyes. “That was years ago! And it was a misunderstanding. Actually, not a misunderstanding. She was wrong. I didn’t steal anything from her shop. Never.”
“It’s okay, babe. It was a long time ago.”
“But you’re still upset by what happened,” Ian said bluntly.
“Wouldn’t you be? If someone accused you of stealing? And you lost your job because of it?”
“I guess so,” Ian said with a shrug. He’d probably never contemplated such a thing, and since he had a fortune of his own he’d never have to, either.
“Okay, thanks. By the way, do you know where we might be able to find Dylan? I’ve got his phone number, but sometimes it’s nice to surprise people.”
“I do, actually,” Hunter said. “On Wednesday mornings, he’s always busking outside the Mirage hotel. I make sure to avoid it—I don’t want to have to admit I know him in front of my colleagues or clients. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be?”
“I know, babe,” Rachel said with a little laugh.
“Thanks. Actually, we tried to catch up with him in the park yesterday. But he left just before we got there.”
Ian sat up straight and started looking intently across the table at Rachel and Hunter with all the subtlety of a slap across the face.
“Is that so?” Hunter asked.
“That’s right. In fact, weren’t you there too? We were at the playground with Ian’s niece, and it looked like—”
Hunter began laughing loudly to interrupt me. When he finished his round of laughter, he leaned across the table and said, “I wish I had the time to go to the park. Don’t you, babe?”
Rachel slapped the table and treated us to a peal of laughter of her own. “Right, babe! Going to the park, in the middle of the week? Maybe when we retire!”
“Five more years, babe.”
Rachel put her hand on top of her husband’s and squeezed it. “Five more years.”
“We must have been mistaken. Okay, we won’t keep you any longer. You’ve got to get to work, right?”
“Right. Come on, babe,” Hunter said, standing up. “I’ll walk you to your office.”
“Aww, thanks, babe. See you guys. Good luck with the investigation!”
We waved them off, and then I stood up and sat on the other side of the table. Sitting right next to Ian while having a conversation with him would be weird.
“So?” I asked him.
Ian answered me first with a yawn. “What?” he asked second.
“What do you think, babe?”
Ian laughed. “Babe, I don’t know, babe. Maybe, babe, they’re really annoying when they talk to each other. What do you think, babe?”
“I think you’re right, babe.”
We both collapsed into giggles and I realized I was intoxicated from exhaustion. I definitely needed to squeeze in a nap today.
“Let’s get some breakfast and then see if we can track down our busker.”
“Don’t you mean performer, babe?” Ian said with another cackle.
“Yeah, babe. A performer, babe.”
After eating three donuts and drinking close to a gallon of coffee, we made our way over to the Mirage to see if we could find Dylan.
We spotted him setting up from a distance and decided to bide our time until he was ready to begin performing. We didn’t want him to be able to hustle off when he saw us, at least not without making a scene.
After he laid out a blanket with a tip bucket in front of him and stood with his guitar hanging from the strap around his neck, we sprung into action. Or at least began walking toward him. Action was a bit too energetic for us that morning.
We split up, so that Ian and I approached him from different diagonals, while Dylan was stuck with the fountain behind him. When I was getting close, his eyes locked onto mine and went wide. He glanced to his right as if considering hurrying off in that direction, but his eyes latched onto Ian. He wasn’t going anywhere.
We both reached him at the same time.
“Hey, babe,” Ian said with a grin.
I smacked him on the arm.
“What?” Dylan said in confusion to Ian.
“Aren’t we doing that anymore?” Ian asked me.
“No, we are not doing that anymore, and we’re definitely not doing it with him.”
“Doing what with me?” Dylan asked warily, taking a step back so he was fully up against the fountain.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said to him. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions and maybe catch a show.”
“This is because of Mr. Watson, isn’t it?”
“He has hired us to investigate what happened, yes. We’re speaking to everyone, Dylan. There’s no need to be nervous.”
Ian leaned in so his face was just in front of Dylan’s. “Or is there?”
“What? No. I’m not nervous,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “I’m fine! But I’m trying to work. Can’t we talk later?”
“No, now’s good,” I said to him. “It won’t take long.”
“Or will it?” said Ian, leaning into Dylan’s face again.
“Knock it off,” I hissed in Ian’s ear. I was pretty sure he was intoxicated from exhaustion too. That would explain his even-loopier-than-normal behavior.
“Dylan, what did you think of Pepper’s Nanna?”
“She was great,” he said warily, eyes flickering around.
“Really? Because I don’t think she thought a lot of you, did she?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t know me. Not yet. If she’d had more of a chance she would have loved me. That’s what Pepper said. And she should know, right?”
“Maybe. The night we spent out in Silver Bend, she said some unkind things to you, didn’t she?”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it. A lot of people don’t get me. If I got upset every time someone misunderstood me and insulted me, I’d have a whole trail of bodies in my wake.”
“What?” I said to him, eyes narrowed.
He shrugged. “I mean, that’s what you’re asking, right? You’re asking if I killed her? So I’m just getting one step ahead of you. No, I didn’t kill her. And no, I didn’t kill anyone else. Insults flow off me like water off a duck’s back. I’m telling you, I don’t get upset. I don’t care that Pepper’s horrible old grandmother thought I was no good. She was wrong and she would have learned, but she didn’t have a chance to. Nothing I can do about it now.” He shrugged, palms up for extra emphasis. “Not my fault she died.”
“But you can understand how it looks. She yelled at you, really laid into you, and then later that night she died? Looks bad, right?”
He hand waved it away. “Nah. Anyway, we resolved our differences that afternoon. That’s why we were all smiling when we came into the saloon.”
I glanced at Ian for confirmation. I didn’t remember them all smiling when they came in. But I didn’t remember them not smiling either. And that didn’t prove anything anyway, they could have been putting on an act. Especially if they were planning on killing the mean old lady.
“Some of Pepper’s other friends think you’re a bad influence on her.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “You’ve been talking to Hunter and Rachel, haven’t you? They’re idiots.”
“Idiots?” Ian asked.
“Yeah. Look at those suckers. Working a million hours every day so that they can retire at thirty or whatever. I mean, what is that? Who does that? They’re wasting their lives, giving their souls to corporate America.”
“Unlike you.”
“Exactly. Pepper’s lucky to have me.”
“Is she?”
“Sure. Without me, what would she be doing with her life? Wasting time in some college? Being a worker drone like Rachel? Nope, that’s not the life for her, or for me. It was me who told her to become an influencer. It’s her calling, and only I could really see it. I showed Pepper her dream, you know?”
“Mmhmm,” I said as noncommittally as could
. “Lucky her.”
“I know, right?”
“What did you do the night of the… fire?”
“What do you mean what did I do? I did the same as everyone else. Pepper and I went to our cabin. Got an early night. I woke up once, when your stupid dog was barking—”
“Hey!” Ian yelled in his face. “Bridget’s got more brains than you’ll ever have.”
“Whoa, man, chill. It’s just a stu—just a dog. So-rry.”
I kind of wished Bridget was there so I could command her to give him a little nip, just to let him know he shouldn’t speak about dogs like that. She was probably too much of a sweetie to do it, though.
“I saw you and Pepper have got some plans for the ghost town.”
“She showed you, huh? Yeah, we’ve been thinking about what to do with it. But don’t go thinking that we killed her just so we could inherit it. No way. Pepper’s super sad about it all.”
“And you’re not?”
“Of course I’m sad! If Pepper’s sad, I’m sad. That’s the way we are. We’re like one spirit. No, the whole dead Nanna thing’s really got her down. The only thing cheering her up is making plans, it’s what keeps her happy. Making lists, making plans, thinking about the future, that kind of stuff. That’s why she’s so inspiring as an influencer. She makes people think about the future and what they’re going to achieve.”
“I see. Okay then, who do you think blocked up her Nanna’s chimney?”
“That’s heavy stuff. I don’t think it could have been any of Pepper’s friends. I guess there’s that Antonio guy, we don’t know him too good. And we don’t know you.” He jabbed a finger in my direction only to have Ian swat it out of the air.
Tired Ian was interesting.
“So no ideas?”
“Oh, maybe that old guy. Abner. He was weird, wasn’t he? He didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. And he didn’t stay for the music. I always say, don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like music.”
“Maybe he just didn’t like your music,” Ian said.
“Yeah, right,” Dylan said with a dismissive shake of his head. “It was probably that guy. Imagine how tough it was for him, working with that horrible old woman every day. Having her yelling in your ear all day, every day. It would drive anyone to murder, wouldn’t it?”
“I thought you liked her.”
“Oh, umm, yeah. I mean. I understand her, but other people didn’t really get her, you know? It wouldn’t have bothered me, working for her. But for someone else? Like that old guy? I bet she would really have gotten his goat.”
“We’re looking into all possibilities. Come on, Ian. Let’s leave Dylan to it.”
“Don’t you want to stay for the show?”
“I’ve got things to do. And anyway, we heard you perform out at Silver Bend.”
“Exactly! You know what you’re getting. But hey, if you’re busy, I understand. The tip bucket’s there though, if you, you know, want to leave a few…”
We didn’t hear the rest of it as we were too busy walking away.
“Later, Dylan,” Ian called over his shoulder. “Come on, babe. Drive me home. I need a nap.”
“I told you we’re not doing that anymore, Ian.”
“Whatever, babe.”
Tired Ian definitely needed his nap.
Chapter Sixteen
After our power breakfast that morning with Rachel and Hunter, I followed up with a power nap that lasted until midday. When I woke up again, I sent Ian a message.
Time to get back to sleuthing. Meet me at the car in thirty.
It was more like forty-five before we were both alive and ready to roll again.
“Where to?” Ian asked. I was glad he’d stopped mocking Rachel and Hunter with their non-stop babes.
“Now that we don’t have Angel with us, let’s go see Abner again. See what he has to say about deliberately messing up the renovations. And maybe killing Mrs. Watson.”
“Cool. You can drive today, Tiff.”
“Gee, thanks for letting me drive my own car. But no napping. You’ve got to stay awake with me.”
“What? That’s not fair. I just need a few more minutes.”
“Nope. That’s the rule. Co-pilot has to stay awake with the driver.”
“I don’t want to be a co-pilot. I want you to be my chauffeur, and I’ll just stretch out in the back, and—”
“Ian! No. You’re riding shotgun and you’re going to make sure I don’t fall asleep. Got it?”
“Yes, boss,” he said with more than a hint of sullenness.
Ninety minutes later, we were pulling up outside Abner’s house—or shack as Eagle-Eye Bill had referred to it—in another cloud of dust. This time, he was already sitting out on his porch, rocking back and forth in his chair. I wondered if he’d been sitting there the whole time since we last left. He’d been in the exact same spot when we’d last departed.
Abner tipped his hat at us as we exited the vehicle and coughed our way through the dust cloud to reach him.
“Howdy.”
“Hi. Have you got a minute? We wanted to ask you a few more questions.”
“I got all the time in the world. At least until there’s a new owner for Silver Bend. If they want me, that is. If not, well I guess I’ll just keep having all the time in the world.”
“Great. Can we sit?”
He waved a hand at the chairs and we sat down again in the same spots we had on our previous visit.
“What can I do for you?”
“We spoke to Eagle-Eye Bill.”
Abner snorted. “Fill your head with sawdust?”
“Sawdust? Umm, no. But he did have a few things to say about you. I wondered if you could clear them up for us.”
“Sounds like he was speaking sawdust to me. I’d use a worse word but you’re a lady and that ain’t right.”
“How gentlemanly of you.” Abner tipped his hat my way. “Bill said you weren’t in favor of opening up Silver Bend to tourists.”
Abner shrugged. “Didn’t I tell you the same thing? Coulda sworn I did.”
“Yes, you did say that. But Bill added a few more colorful details. He said you deliberately sabotaged the renovations?”
“There you go. That’s the sawdust he was blowing into your brain. Nonsense. I did a fine job. A fine job, I tell you.”
“Was there an incident with a water tower?”
“An incident? You mean like how I took it down because it was a safety hazard? Because I didn’t want it falling on any highfalutin city slicker’s cranium and givin’ me a headache? That the one you talkin’ about?”
“I guess so. Bill said you pretended to fix it and then sabotaged it.”
“Bill’s an idiot or a liar. Naw, scratch that. Bill’s an idiot and a liar. He wouldn’t know a deliberate demolition from a demolition derby.”
Ian leaned forward, eager to have a go at questioning our suspect. “How long have you known Bill?”
“Oh, I’d say… about…” Abner looked up at the ceiling of the little porch. “Fifty-seven years and two months.”
Ian looked at me for guidance. I shrugged back at him. I had no idea why Abner was so weirdly precise.
“Did you used to be friends?”
“I guess so.”
“For a long time?”
“About two years and two months.”
“Then what happened?” I asked, intrigued.
Abner grinned at us and then slapped his knee. “Sarah-Jane is what happened. Prettiest rose in the whole high school. She went on a date with old Bill. Course he wasn’t so old then.”
“And?”
“And then she set eyes on me and wanted nothin’ more to do with old Bill.” Abner cackled to himself. “He’s been mad at me ever since. Ain’t my fault I’m handsomer than him though, is it? Smarter too.”
“Did you marry her?” asked Ian, eyes alight.
“Naw.” Abner looked down and squeezed at his knee. “Two months later, she graduated. M
oved on to the big city. Didn’t never come back. Heard she got married to some city type. Bill never forgot her though. Nor did I.”
“That’s quite a story. And Bill’s been holding a grudge ever since?”
“Yep, that’s exactly what he’s been doing, the miserable old coot. Won’t drop it.”
Neither have you, I thought to myself.
“Did Mrs. Watson have any interactions with him? Do you think he disliked her?”
Abner leaned forward and treated us both to a mischievous grin.
“I let on to Bill that me and Mrs. Watson were dating. We weren’t, you know, purely platonic. But I didn’t let him know that. Drove him mad. Cheered me up though, knowing he was up there with his telescope, staring down at us, trying to catch us. If anything, I think he had a soft spot for her himself. Probably because he thought he could get one over on me because of Sarah-Jane.” Abner sighed. “Shame what happened to Mrs. Watson. Now I ain’t got nothing to poke at Bill with.”
Ian had a thoughtful look on his face as he leaned in toward Abner. “You don’t think Bill would have tried to kill her out of jealousy?”
Abner leaned back in his chair and hooted with laughter. “Him, a killer?” he said when he finally stopped laughing. “First, he ain’t got it in him. No guts. Second of all, even Bill’s got enough brains under the sawdust in his head to know not to do something like that when there’s a whole bunch of guests. He would have waited until y’all had gone home. And third, he can barely walk the length of a bar, and he needs a platform just to climb up onto his horse. No way he clambered up onto some old roof, carrying a whole bunch of junk to stuff down a chimney. And in the dark? He can barely see in the day time. No, Bill’s a good-for-nothing, but he ain’t killed Mrs. Watson.” Abner reached up and tapped at his stetson. “If it was him, I’ll eat this hat.”
Listening to him being mean about his old rival actually endeared me to him more. There was something about the two old guys, having such a long-lasting rivalry that seemed kind of sweet. Even if it had meant they wasted a whole bunch of our time.
“Thanks for talking to us again, Abner. Say, if we wanted to drive over to Bill’s house, how would we get there?”
Just Deserts in Las Vegas Page 13
