by Judi Lynn
Whiskers tugged on his beard, studying them. “What do you wanna know now?”
Gaff opened his notepad and rested it on his knee. “We’ve heard that Darby owed you money, and the two of you were arguing about it. Is that true?”
“Who told you that? Someone at the bar? Well, I guess it was no secret, and it didn’t shame Darby none.”
“How much did you loan him?”
“Three thousand, the pesky crook. I been putting money aside to buy a motorcycle so I can ride with Haze.”
“And he knew that?”
“We told each other most everything.”
“Did he tell you about driving to Ohio to harass his ex-wife?”
“Darn idiot. Yeah, he told me. I said all he’d do is cause trouble, but once Darby got something in his head, it was near impossible to change his mind. Why would Rose take him back after she got herself a good man?”
Gaff returned to the question of money. “Why did you give Darby a loan?”
“My old friend needed to get one of his trucks fixed but couldn’t come up with the cash. If the truck didn’t run, he couldn’t make money. Swore he’d pay me back at the end of the week. It hadn’t happened by the day he died. Got the feeling it wasn’t going to, that he never intended to make it happen. He said he was cutting it thin with his business, but that’s not my problem, is it? Wasn’t too happy about it.”
“How mad did you get?”
“Mad enough to stick a knife in all four tires of that truck.”
“What if Darby had caught you at that?”
Darby blew out a puff of air. “What if he did? There’d be fisticuffs. I could still take that old coot.”
“Is that what it came to in the end?” Gaff asked.
“Naw, when I told him I wasn’t drinking with him no more till I got my money back, he promised he’d get it to me by the end of the month. Darby didn’t like drinkin’ alone.”
“Do you know if Darby owed anyone else any money?” Gaff asked.
“Who’d be stupid enough to hand him cash but me? We been friends so long, I thought he’d come through for sure.”
Jazzi frowned, and Whiskers focused on her. “What’s botherin’ ya, little lady?”
She wasn’t little, but she let that pass. She wondered if she should tell Whiskers about the stash Darby hid in a drawer. Gaff hadn’t brought it up. Was there a reason? She glanced his way, and he nodded. “We learned that Darby had some secret savings. I can’t understand why he wouldn’t pay you back.”
Whiskers sat up straighter on the couch. “Secret savings? How much?”
“Enough to pay you back and more.”
“Blast that man to tarnation and back! Did he make a note that he owed me money? Will Walker pay his debts?”
Jazzi nodded. “I saw Walker yesterday. He saw the note in his dad’s ledger, just didn’t know who to pay.”
Whiskers’s shoulders relaxed. “That Walker’s a good boy. His mama raised him right. Good thing he didn’t get none of Darby’s spit and grit.”
“I’ll tell Walker I talked to you. He’ll probably give you a call.”
“Is that boy and Thane still tight? They used to be joined at the hip whenever Darby let Walker have a little free time.”
Jazzi smiled. “They’re friends again. You can tell they go way back with each other.”
“Like me and his old man.” Whiskers shook his head. “If I’d been smart, I’d have cut Darby loose after Rose left him, but I thought he was just goin’ through a rough patch, that eventually he’d settle down and get his act together.”
“Maybe he would have if he’d lived a little longer,” Gaff said.
Whiskers raised his eyebrows, looking doubtful. “Don’t think he’d have held onto his business much longer. Don’t know if that would have made him worse or better. With Darby, I’d bet on worse.”
Gaff pushed to his feet. “Is Haze working tonight?”
“She ain’t here, is she? She won’t make diddle for tips tonight. This rain’ll keep people away.”
Gaff tipped his head. “Thanks for your time. We’ll head to the bar to talk to her next.”
“Knock yourself out.” Whiskers fluffed the couch pillow and stretched out. “Tell her I’ll be in later for supper. Might take a nap first.”
With a nod, Gaff fetched his umbrella, and Jazzi slipped on her raincoat. It felt clammy, but it would keep her dry. When they opened the door to let themselves out, the rain hadn’t let up. They sloshed on wet sidewalks to the bar.
Chapter 42
When they walked into the bar, the air-conditioning hit them. Jazzi shivered. The cold air on top of the cold rain was too much. She took off her dripping raincoat and hung it on a hook near the door. Newspapers lined the floor to soak up the water.
Jazzi rubbed her arms as she took a seat next to Gaff. When the bartender asked for her order, she said, “Coffee. With sugar.” She usually didn’t take sugar, but it sounded good tonight.
“I made a fresh pot,” he told her. “You’re in luck.”
“I’ll take a cup, too,” Gaff called after him. He nabbed a second mug as well. When he came back and pushed their drinks across the bar, he grinned.
“The sky opened up tonight. The bar’s going to be pretty dead.”
“Doesn’t seem to bother you,” Gaff said. “You don’t mind a slow night?”
The man shrugged. “Just as soon be here as sitting alone in my apartment. It’s nice to have a low-key night once in a while. No rush.”
“Is Haze working?” Gaff had scanned the room. So had Jazzi. She was nowhere in sight.
“She’s hanging out in the kitchen, pestering Leroy, my cook. I’ll get her for you.” He disappeared behind a door marked PRIVATE, and soon Haze wandered out and leaned across the bar to talk to them.
She nodded toward the bartender. “Clay said you two had come in last Friday, looking for me.”
So that was the owner’s name. “Did you have a nice weekend?” Jazzi asked her. “Clay said you and Whiskers rented a place at a lake.”
She gave a brief smile. “Took the boat out every morning and caught a few fish. Hiked a couple of times, but mostly, just relaxed. I needed a vacation. It’s been a while. Moving’s expensive. Had to work extra hours to get back on my feet.”
Gaff took out his notepad, a sign the small talk was over. “Did you know that Darby owed Whiskers money?”
“I heard them arguing about it. All Whiskers would ever say was that Darby was a rotten crook, and a man should be able to trust his friend after all the years they’d known each other.”
Gaff took a sip of his coffee as he wrote. “He never told you how much?”
“I got the feeling it was an expensive repair, an engine or transmission blew, something serious.”
Gaff rubbed his chin. It was covered with stubble this time of day. “Did Whiskers tell you that he slashed the tires on Darby’s truck?”
She frowned. “He failed to mention that. I don’t like it when men play tit for tat. That was a cheap trick. He knows I wouldn’t approve.”
“And Darby never brought it up?”
“Darby wouldn’t, would he? He’d have to admit he borrowed money and wasn’t paying it back.” She thought for a minute. “After Whiskers’s little trick, though, I’d call it even. He’d never see a cent of what I owed him.”
Jazzi drained her coffee cup, and Clay took it to get a refill, adding sugar again. She agreed with Haze. Buying four new truck tires couldn’t be cheap. If Whiskers wanted payback so bad, he’d canceled any debt.
Gaff picked up the thread again. “Did the two men get along better after the tire incident?”
“No.” Haze drifted to the coffeepot, too, to pour herself a mug. Only a few tables held customers, and they were nursing their beers, enjoying their burgers.
They wouldn’t need her for a minute. She went on. “I could have told Whiskers that payback wouldn’t make him as happy as pressuring Darby for the cash. Whiskers takes money seriously. He lets himself spend a certain amount on beer and meals each week, and the rest goes into savings and never comes out.”
Jazzi grinned. “He told us he was saving for a bike like yours. He must really have a hankering for one.”
“We’ve talked about taking a couple weeks off and riding our Harleys out west, camping wherever we could.”
“That’s your idea of fun?” Jazzi had no desire to sleep in a tent. The ground wasn’t even close to soft enough, even with an air mattress.
“It’s not for everyone,” Haze admitted, “but we’d like it. I can make a mean meal in a cast-iron Dutch oven over a campfire.”
Jazzi would take her word for that. The closest to cooking outdoors she ever wanted to experience was a gas grill in the backyard.
Haze looked at her expression and shook her head. “I thought that you, gutting houses and being a pro with hammers, would be a natural at guy things like camping.”
“Not gonna happen. To me, roughing it is when you rent a place with no dishwasher.”
Haze threw back her head and laughed. “To each his own, but Whiskers was socking a fair share of money away to buy a Harley as big as mine.”
Gaff tried to steer the conversation back to the loan. “Would Whiskers and Darby have made up eventually?”
“Probably, but it would have taken a while. Whiskers felt betrayed. That’s a hard pill to swallow.”
“Anything else that might have come between them?” Gaff asked.
“Me? That had happened for a minute, but they were working past that.”
Gaff absently rapped his pen on the bar a few times, thinking. “Someone said that Darby was flirting with a woman who came in here with a guy. How did the guy take that?”
“Didn’t seem to mind. I got the feeling he was more than ready to get rid of her and thought Darby might be his ticket to move on.”
That put an end to that lead.
A man at the table by the door raised his beer bottle and motioned for Haze. She turned to Gaff. “Anything else?”
“No, I can’t think of anything for now. Thanks for your time.”
She grew serious. “A man got killed. He deserves some justice. Come again if you have more questions.”
Nice. People didn’t always think of Gaff that way, but that was exactly what he was doing—trying to bring justice to a murder victim.
As they ran to the car and Gaff drove her home, he said, “What do you think?”
“Something doesn’t add up. If Darby had a hundred and fifty thousand dollars wadded up in his desk drawer, why didn’t he pay Whiskers back? Why not fix the truck himself?”
“Maybe he’d vowed never to touch that money,” Gaff said. “Or maybe since he knew how Whiskers felt about money, he wanted to hurt him where it counted. Maybe he was getting even for Whiskers winning Haze.”
“Darby was that warped.” She could see him using twisted logic like that.
Gaff rubbed his eyes in a tired gesture. “Whatever the reason, Whiskers is as high on my suspect list as Walker’s dad.”
Jazzi played with that idea for a while. “But would Walker’s dad have taken Darby’s keys and put the shovel he used to kill Darby in Colin’s locker? Whiskers knew the cement company as well as the workers. He’d been there plenty of times.”
“I don’t see that the shovel rules Gene out.” The traffic light turned red, and Gaff stopped for it. There were hardly any cars on the road tonight. The rain and gloom ate headlight beams, making it hard to see lanes and street signs. “Whoever put it there might have just wanted to blame someone, anyone, for the crime. He might not have been trying to pin it on Colin.”
Jazzi sighed. “The more we learn, the more confused I’m getting.”
“That’s part of it,” Gaff told her. “You just gather information until something clicks into place. We haven’t found that missing piece yet.”
She was beginning to wonder if they were going to. There were plenty of unsolved crimes, she knew. She hoped this wouldn’t be one of them.
When Gaff pulled into her drive, she zipped to the door and quickly stepped inside. Lights blazed, and warmth enveloped her. Home. Maybe here, surrounded by good vibes, she could sort things out. Or not.
Chapter 43
The next morning, Gaff called Jazzi at home before she and Ansel left for Southwood Park. “We have another body.”
“Whose?” Jazzi stopped petting Inky in mid-stroke, and the cat turned to stare at her.
“Colin. A guy at his apartment complex was walking to his car and saw him slumped over his pickup’s steering wheel.”
A chill swept through her body. Colin hadn’t hit forty yet, too young to die, “What happened to him?” A heart attack? Aneurysm? No, Gaff was a homicide detective. He didn’t get involved unless foul play was suspected.
“Looks like he rolled down his window to talk to someone, and whoever it was shot him in the head.”
Jazzi couldn’t catch her breath. She gripped the edge of the island’s counter, and Ansel reached out to steady her. “Wouldn’t someone have heard the gunshot?”
“The apartments are close to the entrance ramp of the interstate. The guy who found him said they hear cars and trucks backfire all the time. They don’t pay attention anymore.”
“And no one saw anything?”
“It was pouring down rain last night. People stayed in.”
“Where was Colin going? Does anyone know?”
“No one we’ve talked to. The lady who lives across the hall from him was coming in when he was going out, and she teased him that only ducks loved this weather. He told her he’d stay home if he could, but he had some business he had to take care of.”
“Was that after work hours?”
“A little after five. She was just getting home from her job. Colin told her he’d gotten off work early since they couldn’t pour cement in the middle of a storm.”
Jazzi felt a little sick. “We were sitting in the bar, talking to Haze, when he got shot.”
“Looks like it.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Make another round of visits. Can the guys spare you today?”
“Where do you want to pick me up?”
“At the house in Southwood Park, if that’s okay. It’s closer to the station and Darby’s cement company.”
“Call me when you’re on your way, and I’ll be ready.”
“Will do.”
Jazzi clicked off her phone and stared at Ansel. “Someone killed Colin.”
He scooted his stool closer to hers and wrapped his arm around her. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I got to know him a little. I liked him.”
The cats realized she was upset and jumped on the island to rub against her. This time, Ansel didn’t shoo them off. “Want some more coffee?” he asked.
She nodded. “I want some chocolate, too.”
He came back with hot coffee and a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. “It’s the best I can do.” They didn’t keep candy in the house and rarely had snacks in their cupboards.
She popped some chips in her mouth and let them melt on her tongue, then washed them down with coffee. She glanced at the clock. “We’re going to be late.”
“I’ll call Jerod and let him know. Take your time. He’ll understand.”
But she got restless sitting there, noodling over one bad scenario after another. She drained her cup and said, “Let’s go.”
He pulled the van as close to the back door as he could get so that they didn’t drown loading the cooler and thermoses into it. He bent his body over George to keep him as dry as possible when he carried him t
o the back seat. On the drive across town, he said, “If you want to come home after you’re done with Gaff, just have him drop you off here. You can watch a movie or something to take your mind off things.”
She was one lucky girl. Ansel always tried to take care of her. “I’ll probably come back and work some more. I’m better when I’m busy.”
He nodded. “I’m down with whatever helps.”
He turned on the CD player, and they listened to music as he drove. When they turned into the new driveway at the fixer-upper, he parked behind Jerod’s pickup. Pulling up the hood of her raincoat, Jazzi glowered at the sheets of rain. Maybe they should build porticoes on old houses whose garages sat back from the street. That way, people wouldn’t have to brave the elements when they carried groceries or supplies inside.
“It was a hot, miserable summer, and now the skies are dumping gallons of water on us. I hope Mother Nature’s in a better mood by winter.” Ansel didn’t grumble about weather very often, but everyone was getting tired of this year’s extremes.
She took off her raincoat and left it on a plastic lawn chair on the porch before lugging the cooler into the kitchen. When they walked into the house, they told Jerod what had happened to Colin. Jerod stopped mixing the mortar for the floor and studied her. “You okay?”
The same thing Ansel had asked. She nodded. “I liked him, though.”
She knelt to help him lay tile. Ansel would only get in their way, so he grabbed sandpaper and started work on the open staircase in the center of the house, close enough to join in on their conversation.
Jerod scraped mortar across the floorboards. “Does Gaff have any idea why someone shot Colin?”
Jazzi pressed a tile in place and reached for the next one. “It’s too soon, but it’s going to make it easy to rule out Walker’s dad if he was in Ohio yesterday for supper.”
Jerod brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
When Gaff came to fetch her, Jerod asked him about it. “Does Gene have an alibi for last night? If he was in Dayton, he’s off the hook now, right?”
