The Farmer's Slaughter (A Harley and Davidson Mystery Book 1)

by Liliana Hart

  “What was your opinion?” Hank asked.

  “I honestly don’t know why he took the deal. The evidence didn’t stack up. There was no concrete proof of anything. I went to the chief of police and to the DA, but both of them told me there was no course for appeal since Gage had pled guilty. The people here needed someone to be guilty, and there was no use stirring stuff up once Gage took the deal. You’re the first person who’s asked me about it in ten years.”

  “How did Julie end up handcuffed to the bed?” Agatha asked.

  “The easy explanation is that Gage cuffed her there and set the fire. It wasn’t a sophisticated arson. He used the coffee maker as a delayed starter so he could get to work. Then he attended the sergeant’s shift briefing before the blaze could be detected, giving him a room full of people to alibi him.”

  “Was that your independent conclusion?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah, it’s a classic mistake that people make when trying to be tricky. It’s a good try, but not good enough to fool anyone with any experience. I have proof of how it was done, but not necessarily who did it. I’m not sure we would’ve solved it if he hadn’t confessed. You’re always going to look at the spouse first and hardest. You know that,” he said, looking to Hank. “And maybe we could’ve made something stick, but the fact is, someone cuffed Julie to the bed, shot her in the house, and then set the house on fire. It wasn’t exactly a genius move as far as trying to cover up the scene of the crime. Honestly, I figured if someone like Gage was going to commit murder, he’d do a heck of a lot better job not getting caught. He was a sharp guy.”

  The word confessed stuck in Hanks’s mind. He’d use it when the time was right.

  “Where was the boy?” Agatha asked.

  “At the football game with friends. That’s the shame of it there. That boy’s life was never the same. I know his grandfather up and moved them all over to Beacon City, and the kid’s following in his father’s footsteps. The game Friday night is going to be tense, for more than one reason.”

  “Did Gage really hold the firemen at bay with a shotgun?” Hank asked.

  “Who knows? There was so much chaos that night. I never talked to anyone who confessed to actually seeing one. Tony swore he had firefighters call him on the radio to complain about the weapon, but he didn’t know who and nobody spoke up. It didn’t make sense for Gage to let the place burn down. When I interviewed him, before he confessed, he said he and Julie were back together. That they’d worked everything out.”

  “You said twice now that Gage confessed, but you sidestepped saying he confessed to you.” Hank slid it into the conversation.

  Chaffe averted his look. His fingers tapped at the packet of cigarettes in his pocket.

  “Tony said he heard him say it. I was told to document it.”

  Hank squeezed his fists into tight knots. He hated injustice, but he had to remain cool.

  “So how in the world did Gage get charged for Kip Grogan’s death?” Agatha asked. “Everything I’ve been able to find said it was a heart attack.”

  “Ever played pile on as a kid?” Chaffe asked. “What better way to make Gage out to be the bad guy. I bet no one even remembers Julie’s name, but no one forgets Kip.”

  “You remember her,” Agatha said.

  “I remember the victims,” he said. “I’m not saying I haven’t made mistakes. I have. And this was one of them. But my hands were tied, and there’s nothing I can do. Everyone got what they wanted.”

  “Except Gage McCoy and his son,” Hank said.

  “Why were Gage and his wife getting divorced?” Agatha said, something prompting her to ask the question.

  “Well, seems like Gage was better at being a QB than being faithful. Of course, it didn’t take long before Tony showed himself as the good friend and started working on getting Julie back. It was a mess.” Chaffe rolled his eyes and signaled for the check. “Her dad, Nick, had a heart-to-heart with Julie and Gage and laid things out for them. He convinced them to get into counseling and give it another shot.”

  “How did Tony take that?” she asked.

  “How do you think?” he asked. “He lost against McCoy again. That was six for six.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tuesday

  “Long time, no see, stranger,” Penny said when Agatha walked into the Kettle Café two days later. “That hottie you managed to wrangle is at the back table.”

  Agatha gritted her teeth. Penny was a fan, which she didn’t mind, but she was beginning to become somewhat of an irritant. Agatha treasured her privacy, and maybe everyone in town did know more about her than she thought, but at least they had the decency not to mention it. Not Penny though. She made it a point to let Agatha know she knew her business, whether it was true or not.

  Agatha decided the best thing to do was ignore her, and she looked around the café and saw Hank in the back booth. There was a woman sitting across from him wrapped up in a scarf, but she couldn’t tell who it was from the back.

  “Morning, partner,” Hank said, smiling at her as she came up to the table.

  “Good morning,” she said. And then she caught a glimpse of the woman as she turned to face Agatha.

  “Well as I live and breathe,” Heather said, raising a brow. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”

  Heather Cartwright had been Agatha’s best friend since grade school. They were total opposites in every way, but somehow their friendship worked. Heather was selfish and self-absorbed, but she was generous in giving to others and she had a good heart. She’d been married five times over the course of the last twenty years, and there was something inside her friend that was a little bit sad and a little bit broken, but it was hard to see unless you really knew her.

  She and Heather hugged fiercely and then Agatha scooted into the booth across from Hank. It had been a few weeks since she’d seen Heather due to finishing up her book.

  “I missed you,” Heather said. “I’ve needed to talk to you about a hundred times. You’ve missed out on a lot. Let’s do dinner tomorrow night, okay? Brisket Basket’s meat plate special. You know I love meat,” she said, winking at Hank. “I’ll leave you two to your crime-solving now that I’ve gotten what I came for. Thanks for the coffee, sugar.” She blew Hank a kiss and waved goodbye to Agatha.

  “She’s exhausting,” Hank said, smiling.

  “Which is exactly what her ex-husbands always say.”

  “We’ve got a meeting with the Rio Chino coroner today,” he said. “The name is Dr. Anna Rusk.”

  “Sounds good. You know I’m always happy to eat.” She pressed at her swollen eyes. She’d had a rough couple of nights since meeting with Peter Chaffe. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our talk with Chaffe.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Hank said. “Penny, can I get more coffee, please? You want something?”

  “Hot tea. Strong and black. There’s something that’s been bugging me about him, as helpful as he seemed to be. But he’s waited ten years, and all of a sudden he just decides to spill his guts and be helpful because two strangers come to town asking questions? Only after he and Tony tried to intimidate us out of town first.”

  “You did a good job questioning him,” Hank answered. “He was more receptive to you because he saw you as nonthreatening. But profiling people like him is what I’ve done for most of my career. He’s pretty textbook. It’s a simple case of him giving us a surface appearance. Only letting us see what he wants us to see. But that doesn’t fill out the profile accurately.”

  Penny took that moment to bring her tea and Hank’s refill. “Are y’all solving a new crime? You’ve got that serious look about you. I can’t wait to read about it in whatever book you’re writing, Agatha. Maybe your investigator will have a new love interest.” Penny waggled her eyebrows, not being subtle about the hint at all.

  Agatha felt heat creep up the side of her neck, and she narrowed her eyes at Penny. But she’d turned around to put down the coffeepot.

 
; “Are y’all wanting breakfast this morning?”

  “Not for me,” Hank said.

  “Me either,” Agatha said. Between her exhaustion and the grumpiness from dealing with Penny, she was starting to think it was unwise for her to leave her house.

  “What’s going on with you?” Hank asked.

  “I don’t know. I think this one is just getting to me. A lot of people are suffering because of decisions that were made. I keep thinking of the kid. It’s not easy to lose your parents as an adult. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for him. I’ve been thinking about my own for the past couple of days. It’s been a long time since the grief of their deaths has hit me this strong, but this case is bringing it back,” she said.

  Hank reached out and took her hand, and she marveled at the size and strength of it. And the comfort.

  “Mine died when I was a boy,” he said. “And you’re right, it’s not easy, no matter what age you are. And you never get over it. I don’t think we’re supposed to. But the grief softens over time. And the memories become sweeter.”

  She felt the tears start to well in her eyes and blinked them back rapidly. There was no time for this today. She cleared her throat and squeezed his hand, and then pulled back. “Thank you,” she said. “Sorry about that. You were telling me about your thoughts on Chaffe.”

  “Don’t ever apologize,” he said. “That’s what partners are for. Like I was saying, the guy’s an interesting case, but without a better file on him and his background, I can’t tell with more than about eighty-five percent accuracy that he was telling the truth. His profile shows loyalty, service, and martyrdom. Which loosely means Chaffe is all in all a decent man, but one who isn’t going to go out on his own to bring down Tony. He doesn’t have the leadership skills or alpha personality. He wants to…but he falls short.”

  “You think Tony did it?”

  “I know he did,” Hank said. “We just have to prove it.”

  She’d dug up every report she could find on the arson investigation and gotten copies since they’d made their visit to Rio Chino. She passed the file across to Hank. Agatha didn’t need to read them. She’d practically memorized every word on the pages.

  “How are we going get Tony to fess up?” she asked.

  “Tony is a full-blown egomaniac with narcissistic traits. This job as fire chief is the best thing he’s ever accomplished, and it’s the only thing that gives him purpose. Unfortunately, Tony’s in a strike three predicament. The first was his football career. The second was Julie. And if he gets caught up in this whole thing it’ll be strike three. He’s not going to voluntarily give that up. No way he’ll confess,” Hank snarled.

  “We could interview everyone who was at the scene,” she said. But the look on Hank’s face was skeptical. “Yeah, I guess they’re not going to talk. Especially with Tony being chief. But there has to be someone he’s afraid of. Someone who can upset his apple cart.”

  “But who?” Hank sipped at his drink.

  Agatha exhaled, “Yeah, I guess they’re not talking. There has to be someone who can help rattle Tony.”

  “Nick,” Hank said, snapping his fingers.

  “But I thought you and he weren’t…”

  “Friends? The jury is still out on that. I don’t like being used. But he’s a man who wants answers more than we do. He’s a grieving father. He’ll do whatever he can to help us. Though it would’ve gone a long way for him to just be upfront with me.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want you to feel pressured,” Agatha said. “Or maybe he was waiting to get to know you first to see if he could trust you.”

  “Maybe,” Hank said, considering.

  He glanced down at the file of papers in front of him and started flipping through them. “What’s this?”

  “It’s the jail’s intake inventory and receipt for Gage on the night of his arrest.”

  “They arrested him at the scene of the fire, right?” distracted, Hank asked.

  “Yep.”

  “The correctional officer confiscated everything from McCoy before placing him in a holding cell, right?” Hank asked.

  He was onto something.

  “That’s their policy.”

  “Look here at the inventory list receipt.” He turned the paper so she could see too.

  She’d looked over the inventory list probably a dozen times. “I see a list of clothing and equipment. What are you seeing that I’m not?”

  “This is McCoy’s duty rig. You know, his police utility belt,” Hank said. “One leather police belt. One Velcro under belt. One holster. One magazine holder. Two Glock 23 magazines. Fifteen bullets in each magazine. One handcuff pouch. One set of Smith and Wesson hinged handcuffs.

  “One Taser holster. One police baton holder. One police mace holder. Four leather Velcro belt keepers. NOTE: Items confiscated on scene of the arrest for officer safety, and transferred to jail booking officer: One Glock 23 9mm pistol, serial number GMP230311659mm. One Taser, serial number TXJ698734. One Monadnock expandable police baton. One can of police freeze +P mace.”

  “All that fits on a police belt?” Agatha asked.

  “Yep. That’s what the belt keepers are for. To hold your pants up,” he said, smiling.

  “Wow, it must wreak havoc on the hips.”

  “Especially with his cuffs still on the belt. What did they find attached to Julie and the bed?”

  Agatha’s eyes widened. “Oh. Handcuffs.”

  Chapter Ten

  “There’s something about this town that seems familiar,” Agatha said as they drove past the Rio Chino city limits. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

  They kept watch for Tony and his yellow truck as they motored through town. The coroner’s office was at the end of Kip Grogan Avenue. It also doubled as the town’s morgue and funeral parlor. Austin stone exteriors, common through the state of Texas, adorned the older building. It was obvious that not all public services got the royal treatment or the new construction.

  They parked and headed inside, and Agatha shivered as a cold blast of air greeted them. A young receptionist was typing away at her desk, and she looked up at them and smiled, her fingers never stopping.

  “Are y’all here to see the doc?” she asked. Her name tag said Beth.

  “Yes, she’s expecting us. Hank Davidson and Agatha Harley.”

  “Why’s it so cold in here?” Agatha asked.

  The girl chuckled. “This is normal. It was in the job description. It’s why I’m dressed like a polar bear.”

  “How long you been working here?” Hank asked

  “Two days. Let me buzz the doc for you.”

  Agatha could hear the click of heels coming down the hallway, and a few seconds later there was a beep and a set of double doors automatically opened. She recognized Anna Rusk from the research photos she’d grabbed off the internet, but the photos didn’t do her justice.

  She was tall and was probably in her early forties, though she could pass for a decade younger. Her eyes were striking, emerald in color and slightly tilted at the ends, giving her a mermaid-like appearance. She was mixed-race and her dark hair was cropped closely around her face in a pixie cut.

  Agatha watched Hank out of the corner of her eye. He was mesmerized. She couldn’t blame him. The doc was a knockout.

  “Hello” she said, holding out a hand first to Agatha and then to Hank. “I’m Dr. Rusk. But please call me Anna. I’m assuming you’re my lunch dates?”

  “We appreciate you meeting with us,” Hank said.

  “Well, you offered to buy lunch,” she said, grinning. “Who’s going to turn down that kind of deal.”

  Agatha liked her immediately. She had an easygoing personality and had that innate ability to put people at ease. “Should we walk across the street? I saw a place to eat.”

  “Well, I’m sure not getting in a car with two strangers,” Anna said.

  Hank flashed his badge. “We’re actually conducting an investigation into the d
eath of Julie McCoy.”

  Rusk rolled her eyes.

  “Is that a problem?” Agatha asked.

  Rusk didn’t offer a reply right away, so they walked across the street to the little Mexican restaurant.

  “I didn’t work that case,” she said. “I didn’t move to the area until a couple of years later, but it was still all anyone talked about. I’ve only heard secondhand what went on during the investigation, and I still can’t explain why they did some of the things they did. You see a lot of strange things in small, underfunded towns. And you see a lot of unqualified people do the best they can with the skills they have. I’m very good at what I do,” she said, smiling unashamedly. “They’re lucky to have me.”

  “Who are the them you’re referring to?” Hank asked.

  “Chief Fletcher mostly. He couldn’t wait to tell anyone who would listen about the folks from Philly looking to stir up the McCoy case again. He warned us you might be around to talk and to be nice,” she said, baring her teeth. “Even said he got you sidelines to the big game so you can see how hospitable we all are here.”

  “I can assure you,” Hank said, “I can’t be bribed. And we’re not here looking to stir up the case again. We are stirring up the case again. From what we can see, there were mistakes all around. Malicious, intentional mistakes.”

  Hank opened the door of the restaurant and Agatha followed Anna inside. Mexican food was her weakness, and the smell of homemade tortillas had her mouth watering.

  Rusk smirked and raised a brow. “One of you is lying. Wonder who it is?”

  “We’re only interested in the truth,” Agatha said.

  They followed the hostess to a table and sat down, and they were immediately served with chips and salsa. They gave their order before resuming the conversation.

  “You’re not from Philly,” Anna said, staring at Agatha. “You’re a Texas girl. So there’s one lie right there.”