The Body in the Gravel

by Judi Lynn

  They were eating lunch when Gaff called. “Bea can see us this afternoon. Can you still come?”

  “Want me to meet you there?”

  “No, you’re doing me a favor. Besides, you’re not that far out of my way. What if I pick you up at two?”

  They’d have the roof done by then. “That’ll work fine. I’ll be ready.”

  When she hung up, Jerod said, “Let’s change up our plans. The gutters will go faster if all three of us work on them. What if Ansel and I paint the front door and put a fresh coat of white paint on the windows’ trim?”

  “Good, I’d rather you waited for me on the gutters.”

  Jerod grinned. “You’re a glutton for punishment, cuz. You always like to be here for the heavy lifting.”

  “I just want to make sure you do it right. But I think green trim that matches the shutters would make the yellow bricks stand out more.”

  Ansel agreed.

  Jerod laughed. “Whatever works. Franny always makes those decisions at our place.” Lunch finished, they returned to the roof, and by the time Gaff pulled to the curb, Jazzi was climbing down the ladder, that job complete.

  “Is this a good time?” Gaff asked as she got in the car.

  “The roofs are done. The guys are going to wait for me to do the gutters.”

  He looked surprised. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Yes, this way I won’t feel guilty leaving them.”

  Gaff rubbed his hand across his forehead before pulling away from the curb. “I’m taking up a lot of your time.”

  “No problem. We all want you to find the person who killed Darby. This is for Thane and Walker.”

  “Let’s hope we learn something new then. We’ve been hitting a wall lately.”

  It took them about twenty minutes to reach Darby’s place, and Walker came from the office at the back of the property to meet them. “Bea’s cleaning the house right now. I’ll introduce you to her.”

  He led them into the split-level. They entered a living room and could see a kitchen through its doorway. Both had wooden floors. A black leather couch with holes in its arms hugged a wall. A wooden coffee table was stained with water rings. Jazzi glanced down a shallow set of stairs to the lower level, which was carpeted, the steps’ treads well-worn. A vacuum cleaner ran upstairs, and Walker zipped up there to get Bea. When he led her down to meet them, Jazzi stared. Bea was a trim, attractive woman with short gray hair—the woman who’d come with Earl to TGI Fridays on Friday night.

  Bea recognized her, too. “I suppose you’re wondering why I told the detective I wouldn’t be back in town until Sunday night and then went to dinner with Earl on Friday. I meant to go to Michigan with my sister over the weekend, but she had to cancel.”

  Jazzi nodded. Plans went awry sometimes. She couldn’t help staring at a big bruise on Bea’s right arm, though. It was shaped like fingers, as though someone had grabbed her.

  Bea put up her hand to rub the spot. “Darby lost his mind on the Monday he died. When I was leaving work, he grabbed me and tried to kiss me. Years ago, when I first started cleaning for him, he grabbed my fanny. Once. I made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t going to get a better worker than I am, who charged what I charge, but that if he ever touched me again, he’d be looking for someone new.”

  “And?” Walker asked.

  “He never bothered me again.”

  Gaff poised his pen over his notepad. “What happened on Monday? How did you get away from him?”

  She dipped her head, avoiding their eyes. “Earl was waiting to take me home when we got off work. I tried to pull away from Darby, but he wouldn’t let go. Earl had to get out of his car and punch him to get him off me.”

  Walker stared. “Dad knew you weren’t interested in him.”

  “I was starting to worry about your dad. He wasn’t the same after you and Rose left him. It was more than being sad or angry. It was almost as if he was mad at himself.”

  Gaff broke into the conversation. “When Earl punched Darby, was he angry enough to hit him with a shovel?”

  “Earl? I was surprised he hit Darby. He’s more the gentle type.”

  “Can anyone corroborate your story?” Gaff asked.

  “All the drivers were there. It was quitting time. We were all getting ready to go home. Colin would have hit Darby if Earl hadn’t. He was losing patience with the old man.”

  “Really? Why is that?” Gaff glanced toward the trucks parked at the back of the property.

  “Colin’s on a job,” Walker told him. “So is Earl.”

  Jazzi wanted to expand the list of suspects. “Is there someone else we could talk to, someone who might know what was eating at Darby?”

  “The person who knew him better than anyone is Whiskers, his longtime drinking buddy. They’d known each other since grade school and drank together most nights, but lately, they hadn’t been getting along so well. I’m not sure why, and I don’t know where Whiskers lives, but their favorite hangout was the bar Shots and Spirits on Wells Street. Whiskers lives within walking distance of it. Darby used to brag that all they had to do was stagger to his place when they had had too much to drink.”

  “I know that place,” Gaff said. “The bartender called us there when I was still driving a squad car. We had to break up a brawl.”

  Bea nodded. “The bartender will know where Whiskers lives. He took their keys away from them when they weren’t safe to drive. He didn’t want Whiskers trying to drive Darby home.”

  Gaff shut his notepad. “Thanks, we’ll stop to chat with him.” He handed her a card. “If you think of anything, call me.”

  On the way to the car, he asked Jazzi, “Mind if we drive by there on our way to your fixer-upper?”

  “Works for me. We should learn something new.”

  But the bar was closed when they passed it. “If I pick you up at five, will you go with me to talk to the bartender? People tell you more than me. They might cooperate with a cop, but they don’t knock themselves out.”

  “You’ll have to pick me up and drive me home.” She wouldn’t make Ansel wait at the job site or drive from home to get her.

  “That’s fair. I’ll see you at five.”

  Chapter 19

  The guys had painted the door a deep green when she got back to join them.

  “Like it?” Ansel stopped painting trim and climbed down his ladder to stand beside her.

  “It’s perfect. We need to add a brass knocker now.”

  Jerod joined them, grinning. “Ansel said you’d say that.”

  “He knows me too well. The green trim looks good, too.” Before, it had been painted mustard yellow, like the door. The color didn’t do much to contrast with the yellow bricks.

  Ansel studied the results and nodded with satisfaction. “How did it go with Bea?”

  Jazzi filled them in as she walked to the side of the house to get a paintbrush and start work.

  Ansel looked disgruntled when she finished telling them about Whiskers and the bar. “So, Gaff is picking you up again? I’ll wait supper until you get home.”

  “It might take a while. If you want to eat without me…”

  “I’ll grab a snack, but I’d rather wait and have supper with you.”

  She’d feel the same way. She never used to mind eating alone, but since Ansel had moved in with her, it felt weird to eat without him. Supper was when they hashed over each day’s events.

  “Hey, if Gaff is taking you to the bar, you’ll have a designated driver. You could get a little tipsy,” Jerod teased.

  Jazzi rolled her eyes. “Just what I want to do, especially with a detective.”

  “It’s not a detective. It’s Gaff. He’s almost like family now.” Jerod glanced at his watch, then looked at the screen of his cell phone. “She still hasn’t called.”


  Her cousin sounded uptight. “What’s going on?”

  He checked his cell again. “Franny’s mom was visiting today, thank goodness. Franny felt like she was having contractions. Her mom drove her and the kids to the hospital. She promised to call me if Franny was going into labor.”

  “Isn’t she too early?” Worry squirmed through Jazzi. The baby was due in February. This was way too soon.

  Jerod’s eyes gave away how worried he was. “She carried Gunther and Lizzie to full term. She got so big, so fast this time, she’s been really uncomfortable.” He stopped and pressed his lips together. “She’s going to be fine.”

  “If you want to leave now, go ahead,” Ansel told him. “We can finish the bottom row of windows on this side.”

  Jerod shook his head. “I always get stuck in a waiting room, going crazy. I’d rather stay here unless Franny’s mom calls.”

  Just then, his cell phone buzzed. He whipped it out of his pocket and listened. When he returned it, he looked relieved. “False labor. Franny’s on her way home. She says the false pains feel just like the real ones. When I get home tonight, we’re going to have a talk.”

  Jazzi heard the edge in his voice. “What about?”

  “The fool woman was hanging a wallpaper border in the baby’s room today. She saw it in a magazine and had to have it. Why she didn’t wait for me to hang it, I don’t know.”

  Ansel asked, “Is that what caused the false labor?”

  “The doctor told her no more getting on ladders, stretching her arms over her head for a long time, or lifting heavy things. I’m pretty sure he’s told her the same thing before.”

  Jazzi snorted. “You’re one to talk. You wanted to hang drywall two days after you sprained your ankle three years ago.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Of course. I forgot. You’re invincible.”

  He gave her a dirty look. “This is my Franny we’re talking about and my baby.”

  Ansel patted him on the back. “We get it, but take it easy on Franny. She must have really wanted to see what that wallpaper border looked like.”

  Jerod calmed down a little. “You know, I think I’m going to take you up on leaving early. I want to go hug that fool woman of mine.”

  They waved him off, then grabbed their paintbrushes. When Gaff came for her, she and Ansel had painted the trim of all the first-floor windows on this side of the house.

  Chapter 20

  Traffic on Wells Street at a little after five was the pits. A car finally stopped and waved Gaff through so that he could turn left onto a narrow side street and park near the bar. When they walked into the dim interior, it took a minute for Jazzi’s eyes to adjust. She was surprised to see that the place was already doing a good business.

  “Must be an after-work crowd,” Gaff said. He led her to the bar and pulled out a stool for her. When the bartender came to take their order, he showed him his badge. “We came to ask you about Darby Hastings and a friend of his, Whiskers.”

  The bartender narrowed his eyes. “Is this about Darby’s murder? I read about it in the paper. Someone threw him under a pile of gravel.”

  “We’re trying to decide what Darby did last Monday night.” He motioned to Jazzi. “She and her work crew found his body.”

  The bartender blinked, picked up his rag, and began wiping down the bar. Jazzi thought it was probably a way for him to gather his thoughts. Finally, he shook his head. “Whiskers has been one lonely dude without his drinking buddy. They’d been a little off lately, but they still came in together. They were here last Monday.”

  “We’d like to talk to Whiskers,” Gaff said. “Someone mentioned he lives close by.”

  With a nod, the bartender hooked a thumb toward the side street. “He’s the fifth house on this side of the street. He and Darby usually walked here and back, but I still kept an eye on them. They got a little crazy when they started on the rum. Whiskers should be home now. He gets off work at three-thirty.”

  “Thanks.” Gaff handed him his card. “In case you think of anything, here’s my number.”

  The man stuck it in his jeans pocket, then went to fill a waitress’s order.

  Jazzi followed Gaff out the door and down the street. The houses were tall and narrow, with small yards and garages that faced a back alley. The neighborhood had seen better days. One house, on the far corner, had evergreen bushes in front of it, but no other landscaping graced either side of the street. Whiskers’s house had faded green siding and a white shingle roof. Everything was taken care of, but nothing new had been done to it for decades.

  Gaff walked up the three cement steps to a small stoop and knocked. He and Jazzi waited a few minutes before Whiskers opened the door. His white hair, still damp, was pulled back in a ponytail. Gaff showed him his badge, and Whiskers motioned for them to enter.

  “I just got out of the shower. Drive a forklift at a factory.” He stopped in the small foyer near the bottom of the stairs. “You must be here about Darby.”

  “We’re trying to track his movements last Monday night.”

  Whiskers tugged on his beard. He kept it trimmed, but it was thick and wiry. Prominent. “S’pose I was the last person to see him alive—except for the guy who killed him, I guess. We went to Shots and Spirits together, had a few to relax.”

  Gaff reached for his pen and notepad. “We’ve heard that you and Darby hadn’t been getting along lately.”

  “Woman problems.” Whiskers nodded for them to follow him into the living room. He sank onto the middle of the couch, leaving them to sit on two uncomfortable, old kitchen chairs. Gaff placed his notepad on his knee to write, and Whiskers went on with his story. “Darb and me been friends since grade school. Both had it bad for Miss Timmers, our fourth-grade teacher. No woman that pretty should step foot in a classroom. Gave every little boy fantasies. We lived through that and then met Rose in high school. We fell for her hard. Both tried to win her, but she picked Darby. After that, he always considered himself a ladies’ man.”

  Jazzi stared, and Whiskers threw back his head and laughed.

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it? He didn’t look like much back then either.” Whiskers shook his head. “Never knew what Rose saw in him. But it hit old Darb hard when she up and left him. Never thought the boy would leave the cement business either. He took another blow when she filed for divorce, but he almost lost it when she remarried.”

  “Did he love her?” Jazzi couldn’t understand why he’d treated Rose so badly.

  “Mad crazy about her,” Whiskers said. “But Darby could never show that to anyone. Thought if you let them know you cared, they’d take advantage of you. That, and the man had a mean streak a mile wide. Treated Rose better than anyone, so thought he was doin’ good.”

  “What got between you and him?” Gaff asked.

  “Shots and Spirits hired a new bartender a year ago. A woman—Hazel. Everyone calls her Haze. I hadn’t thought about females for a long time. Too expensive. But there’s something about Haze got my blood racing. Darby was lonely without Rose and thought sure he’d win her, but she chose me. Put a burr up Darb’s butt.”

  “That’s what you argued about in the grocery store when you threw punches?” Jazzi would have never guessed they were fighting over a woman.

  Whiskers made a face, clearly not proud of himself. “Stupid, huh? But Darby should have been happy for me. Instead, he told me that I should bow out because since he’d had a woman and was used to having one, he needed her more.”

  Gaff looked up from his notes. “Did you know Darby grabbed Bea last Monday and tried to make her kiss him?”

  “Blasted idiot. I ain’t surprised. He was losing it. Rose was his rock, and when she left him and remarried someone else, it ate at him. He decided if she’d found someone else, he would, too. And I’d have been happy for him, but he couldn’t have
my Haze. And he just wouldn’t leave it be. He’d never leave anything alone.”

  Gaff leaned back in his chair. “Do you know anyone who’d be so mad at Darby, he’d hit him with a shovel?”

  “A shovel, huh? At the work site?”

  Gaff nodded.

  Whiskers thought about that for a minute. “From what I can tell, he drove all of them nuts, but they all liked their jobs. Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have said the one thing that pushed somebody too far, though. He was good at that.”

  “Did he ever push you too far?” Gaff asked.

  “Why do you think we brawled in the grocery store?”

  Gaff returned his notepad to his pocket and stood. Jazzi joined him. He handed Whiskers his card before starting for the door. “If you think of anything, call. Does Haze work tonight?”

  “Sure does. When you see her, tell her I’ll be in shortly. In the mood for a bar burger and fries.”

  At the door, Jazzi stopped and asked, “Did Darby mention if he was meeting anyone after he left you that night?”

  “Naw, no one wanted to spend time with him unless they had to. No one but me, and my patience was getting threadbare.”

  Once outside, as they walked to the corner, Jazzi said, “You’d think the man would live and learn. He drove away his wife and son. All he had left was Whiskers. Why alienate him?”

  Gaff gave her a sympathetic look. “It sounds to me like Darby liked being Darby.”

  Maybe. But could the man have liked himself? Or did he not care about himself either?

  Chapter 21

  This time, when they entered the bar, every table was full. A man stood to leave, and Gaff led Jazzi to two empty stools next to each other.

  The bartender came. “Back already? Are you off duty? Want a beer?”

  “I’m still on the clock.” Gaff motioned to Jazzi. “Bring one for her, though, on me.”

  A beer sounded good, so Jazzi sipped its foam when he put it in front of her.

  “Is Haze working?” Gaff asked.