by D P Lyle
“Bet she writes a book about it,” I said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Want to bet?”
“What’re the stakes?”
“The winner gets to have their way with the loser.”
She swerved past a sedan, the two passengers not appearing happy with her Top Gun move.
“Not much of a bet,” she said. “When did either of us deny the other?”
She had a point.
“I’ll tell you what,” she continued. “If I win, I get to have my way with you; and if you win, I’ll have my way with you.” She smiled. “How does that sound?”
“Deal.”
Not waiting to see how the bet played out, she did exactly that. When we got back to the hotel, she literally pushed me onto the bed. Thirty minutes later, the bed covers were on the floor and I was exhausted. Not Nicole. She hopped out of bed.
“Get up.” She gathered the top sheet and comforter, piled them on the bed.
“Why?”
“We have to meet Ray and Pancake in a half hour.”
“They’ll wait.”
“No, they won’t. Remember, we have Pancake’s bear claws. Do you really want to risk his hypoglycemic wrath?”
She had another point.
Round two was in the shower. I swear, she was going to kill me. But everyone’s got to die sometime, somehow. Right?
“You’re late,” Ray said as Nicole and I took the vacant chairs across from him and Pancake in the 1847 Bar.
“Nicole was primping,” I said.
Pancake grunted. “I’m sure.”
Nicole handed him the bag from Mullins Bakery. He ripped out one side and extracted a bear claw.
“I love you, darling.”
Nicole laughed. “You love food. I’m merely your delivery service.”
Ray and Pancake had drinks already. The waitress took our order.
After she left, Ray asked, “Anything new come up today?”
“Allison had no useful info on Jason. Said she never suspected he was a user or anything like that. Had never heard of his brother.”
“He never mentioned his brother?” Ray asked.
“Not to Allison.”
“Not all that surprising,” Pancake said. “They weren’t exactly close.”
“Oh?”
Ray told of their conversation with Brett. He and Jason hadn’t talked in years. Were never close. Even as kids.
“Truth is,” Pancake added, “Jason was probably lucky to be rid of his brother. Guy’s a total loser.”
“So, you’re thinking Brett isn’t a supplier for Jason?” Nicole asked.
“If Jason was a user,” Ray said, “I’d doubt he was getting it from his brother. Or that his brother is involved in this in any way.”
“Said he’d never been to Fairhope,” Pancake said.
“Unless he’s lying,” I said.
“Don’t think so.” Ray took a sip of his bourbon. “My take is that he has trouble dealing with his own little world. He uses. Weed, meth, coke. The whole medicine chest. Does manual labor. Lives in a dumpy-ass apartment in a dumpy-ass part of town. Lots of drugs and dealers around. I don’t see him as an itinerant dealer. Or hit man.”
“Besides, his brother is someone he doesn’t give two shits about,” Pancake said.
“So you’re trip was a bust?” I said.
“Not exactly,” Ray said. “According to Brett, Jason and he smoked weed as kids. Jason used coke with him a few times. Long time ago, of course.”
“Means he ain’t exactly a virgin,” Pancake added.
“You’re saying the drugs found on him might have been his?” Nicole asked.
Ray shrugged, opened his palms. “Past users often become current users.”
“Where do you think we stand on all this?” Nicole asked.
“Same place we were at the beginning. We have Sean Patterson, the aggrieved husband and the inheritor of Emily’s property and cash, Charlie Martin, the jealous other guy, and the possible drug connection between Jason and maybe the Macks, or whoever.”
Nicole nodded. “You still don’t think there’s any chance this could have a random thing? A stranger shows up, maybe to rob them, things go bad, Emily and Jason get shot?”
Ray shook his head. “Don’t see it. Nothing was taken and the two were killed where they were found. Seems risky that a B&E artist would transport them to kill them. Why not just do it there?”
“I agree. Just thought I’d throw it out.”
“We ran into a reporter today,” I said.
Ray raised an eyebrow.
“Not a reporter,” Nicole said. “She’s working on an article about the case. But her focus is the damage to the town and its people.”
“What’d you tell her?” Pancake asked.
“Nothing important. We sat with her and Allison at the bakery. Mainly we talked about Emily and what a great lady she was.”
Pancake nodded. “She was. From what I remember.”
“We figured she just might dig up some things that could be useful.”
Ray shrugged. He wasn’t convinced.
“What do you need for us to do?” I asked.
“Maybe go see Chief Warren again in the morning. See if she has anything new. Other than that, I’m not sure yet.”
“So, we’re off tonight?” Nicole asked.
Ray nodded. “Looks that way.”
“Good. Jake has to pay off a bet.”
“What bet?” Pancake asked.
“One we made today.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “I haven’t lost the bet yet.”
“You will. And really? Does it make any difference?”
Actually, it didn’t. I shook my head. “What about you and Pancake? What’s next?”
Ray nodded toward the big guy. “We’ll work it out. But I think we’ll pay the Macks an official visit.”
CHAPTER 33
BEFORE NICOLE HAD her way with me, again, we all had dinner at the Grand Hotel’s Southern Roots restaurant. A wall of windows looked out over the water, now sparkling in the setting sun. The food was excellent, the drinks better. The bear claws didn’t slow Pancake down a bit and he motored through a healthy portion of the menu.
Afterwards, Nicole and I went for a walk along the waterfront. A dirt and wood-slat path led past wonderful old homes to our left, the water and a series of wooden piers to our right. We held hands but said little. Nicole finally broke the silence.
“You’re kind of fun,” she said.
“What brought that on?”
“Nothing in particular. But you have to admit this place is romantic.”
“It is that.”
More walking, more silence.
“It’s been nearly a year,” she said.
Meaning the time we had been together.
“Seems longer.”
“It does.”
“I can’t remember much about the time before,” she said.
I stopped. Turned toward her. Kissed her. “You’re amazing.”
“We’re amazing.”
That, too.
“Maybe we should head back,” she said.
“So you can make me pay off the bet I haven’t lost yet?”
“Exactly.”
We made it as far as the bar. Pancake was ensconced in one corner, laptop open. We veered that way and sat.
“What’s up?”
“Digging around on the Macks.”
“Anything interesting?” Nicole asked.
“Some.”
A waitress appeared. Young, attractive. I noticed she smiled at Pancake. Stood near him. Looked at us. “Can I get you guys something?”
“Petron tequila,” Nicole said. She wagged her head toward me. “He’ll have the same.”
So, it was going to be one of those nights. Lucky me.
“You okay or can I get you something else?” she asked Pancake.
“What’d you have in mind?” His eyebrows bounce
d.
“You’re terrible.” She swatted his shoulder. She looked at me. “Is he always like this?”
“Always,” I said.
“I thought so.” She tapped his shoulder. “I’ll bring you another. You need it.”
Pancake raised his empty glass. “Probably do.”
“You dog,” Nicole said after the waitress walked away.
“I learned from Jake.”
Nicole ruffled my hair. “The top dog.” Then to Pancake. “She likes you.”
Pancake smiled. “Who doesn’t?”
“Can we get back to what you found on the Macks?” I asked.
Pancake drained the drink before him. “The Macks own their house free and clear. And another piece of property they rent. Also, with no mortgage.”
“Drug dealing is profitable,” I said.
“Sure is. They have just under half a million in the bank.”
I whistled.
“And two safe deposit boxes. Two different banks. Probably stuffed with cash.”
“Avoiding taxes and scrutiny,” I said.
“Their two sidekicks are natural-born losers. Jack Reed managed to finish high school. Reavis Whitt had to pick up a GED later. Worked a few odd jobs here and there but none of those in the past three years.”
“Living off their dealing,” Nicole said.
“Which’ll give us leverage on them if need be. The Macks, too.”
I knew what he meant. Ray had connections within connections within connections and could open up a can of worms for anyone who lived in an illegal shadow world. A simple phone call to a friend at one of the alphabet government agencies and someone’s life could quickly get turned inside out.
“But, here’s one interesting fact,” Pancake said. “Reed worked for a couple of months over at Watkins’ Lumber. Same place Sean works.”
CHAPTER 34
“MR. WATKINS?” I said. Nicole and I stood in his office doorway.
“Oh. Hey. Come on in.”
I had called earlier, asked if we could stop by. A couple of questions. Only take a few minutes.
Several stacks of what appeared to be invoices littered his desk. He held a page in each hand.
“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Nicole said.
“Not at all. Trying to get all these bills and receipts organized.” He settled each page on a stack. “Accounting isn’t my strong suit. Much rather deal with sawdust than paper. But it’s the reward for being the boss.” He waved a hand toward the two chairs that faced him. “Have a seat. What can I help you with?”
“A former employee,” I said. “Jack Reed.”
“He part of your investigation?” Watkins asked.
“We don’t know. Let’s just say his name came up.”
“Don’t surprise me none. I hear he’s up to no good. Selling drugs is the word.”
“I’d say the word is correct.”
“He worked here briefly. Maybe three years ago.”
“And?”
“Had to fire him. Was here only a couple of months. Wasn’t very good. Not very interested. Lazy would be how I pegged him.”
“Any problems?” Nicole asked. “Other than him being a slacker?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the edge of his desk, fingers laced. “I think he was stoned most of the time. Which would fit with his current employment, I suspect. Didn’t seem to be able to follow even the simplest instructions.” He shrugged. “Like I said, he wasn’t very interested in the first place. But seemed to me he was on something.”
“Uppers, downers?” Nicole asked.
Watkins offered a half smile. “Definitely not uppers. Maybe if he had been, he’d’ve been a better worker.” He scratched one ear. “Let me tell you. One day I was standing in the drive, talking to a customer. Jack was leaving for the day. His truck rolled by. I smelled marijuana in his wake.” He shrugged. “Fired him the next day.”
“How’d he take that?” I asked.
“Didn’t seemed concerned. Fact is, I think he was almost glad it happened. He just shrugged, asked when he could pick up his final check, and waved goodbye.” Watkins opened his palms. “Never seen a man happy to be fired. But I don’t think he was going to stay much longer anyway. Work was too hard for him. Who knows? Maybe he was already dealing by then.”
“Probably.”
“Regardless, he was making deliveries. I couldn’t have some stoner driving one of my trucks around town. My liability would’ve been substantial.”
“Did he work with Sean Patterson?” I asked.
“Sure. We’re a small business. Everybody works with everybody else.” He cocked his head. “Why?”
“Just wondering if they knew each other.”
He leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers over his abdomen. “My impression is that they weren’t friends or anything. But they knew each other. Sure.”
“Not buddies though?” Nicole asked.
He frowned. “You thinking he or Sean had something to do with your case?”
“Sean has a pretty solid alibi,” I said. “Reed we’re not sure where, or if, he fits into any of this.”
“I see.”
“I can tell you we have no evidence of his involvement. But, like I said, his name did come up.”
“Mind if I ask how?”
Let’s see, I thought. Reed was a drug dealer. Jason had meth in his pocket when he caught his executioner’s bullet. I wasn’t going to reveal any of that. Rather, I said, “We’re really grabbing for straws. Looking at anyone who knew Sean or Emily or Jason Collins.”
“Got to admit, nothing about these murders makes much sense to me,” Watkins said. “Emily Patterson was one of the nicest people you’d ever care to meet. I don’t know much about Jason, but everything I ever heard is that he was a stand-up guy.”
“Us, too,” I said.
“Did Sean and Reed have any problems with each other?” Nicole asked. “Any disagreements?”
Watkins shook his head. “None that I saw.”
“What about away from here?” I asked. “They ever talk about doing things together?”
He unlaced his fingers, rested his hands on the arms of his chair. “I’d be surprised if they ran in the same circles. Sean’s a good guy. Smart. Hard worker. Reed ain’t none of that.”
CHAPTER 35
CHIEF BILLIE WARREN stepped from her SUV as Nicole turned into the lot of the Fairhope PD. She saw us and waited until we slid into a nearby slot and climbed out.
“Morning,” she said. A slight nod.
“You, too,” I said. “We were on our way to see you.”
“About?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“To see if you have anything new.”
“Wish I did. This is getting more than a little frustrating.”
“We’ve found a couple of things that might or might not be relevant,” I said.
“Such as?”
“First off, Ray and Pancake tracked down Jason’s brother, Brett, over in Pascagoula. Involved in drugs. Does manual labor. Not overly ambitious was Ray’s take. Anyway, he said that he and Jason smoked weed and that Jason had used coke a few times that he knew of. Many years ago.”
“Interesting. Not sure what it means though.”
“Just that Jason has at least a remote history of using. Might make current use a more realistic possibility than we thought before.”
Warren nodded but said nothing.
I went on. “Jack Reed worked at Watkins’ Lumber a few years ago. With Sean Patterson.”
Her chin came up. “That is interesting.”
“Do you know of any other connection between the two?”
Warren shook her head. “No. And it might not mean anything.”
“True,” I said. “But I think that somehow this will all lead back to someone in the drug world. Whether Jason was using, or the drugs were planted, it all seems to close the same circle.”
Warren uncrossed her arms. Propped one hand on
the service weapon that clung to her right hip. “I’ve come to the same conclusion. I just don’t know who to go after.”
“Reed and his sidekick Whitt,” I said.
“And the Macks,” Nicole added. “Seems like they run the show.”
Warren looked toward the PD building. “The problem I’m having with all this is the why.” She looked back to me. “Why would someone in that world want to kill Emily and Jason? Sure, if Jason had a current habit, he could’ve owed them money, or threatened them with exposure, or something like that. Emily could simply be collateral damage. That might all sound copasetic, but we have no evidence connecting all those folks.”
“Unless Jason was indeed a closet user and the Macks were his connection,” Nicole said.
Warren nodded.
“Do you think the Macks or their crew are capable of this?” I asked. “I know they deal drugs, and aren’t exactly stand-up citizens, but would they go all the way to executing someone?”
Warren seemed to consider that. “Anything’s possible. If they were under significant threat, I think Clive and Reba would do just about anything. Self-preservation is a strong motivator.” She shook her head. “Or maybe I’m just cynical.”
“I think that’s more realism than cynicism,” I said.
“It’s a lot to get your mind around,” Warren said. “I’m not sure I buy it. We’ve found absolutely no evidence that Jason or Emily, or Sean, for that matter, were users to any significant degree. None of them were in debt. Or moved money around. Add to that that each of them was gainfully employed and weren’t in the habit of missing work or unreliable in any way.” She shook her head. “It just doesn’t smell like a dealer-user conflict.”
“I think we would agree with you,” Nicole said. “Pancake looked into everyone’s finances and he also didn’t see any debts or moved money.”
“Except for Sean,” I said. “He transferred fifteen hundred into his checking account. But that seems to have been for some car repairs.”
“Which he did,” Nicole said. “Pancake has a copy of the invoice.”
“I don’t think I even want to know how you guys get your information,” Warren said.
“Charm and hard work,” I said.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
CHAPTER 36
THE FAIRHOPE PD parking lot was apparently a popular gathering spot. After Nicole and I watched Chief Warren walk inside, a final wave over her shoulder, we stood beside Nicole’s SL deciding where to go next. Ray and Pancake planned a visit to the Macks, but we had nothing on our plate. That changed when Lauren Schultz rolled into the lot and parked in the adjacent slot.
