The Body in the Gravel

by Judi Lynn

  “If he was in Dayton, which he wasn’t. Supposedly, he was on his way home from a business trip.”

  Darn. That made Jazzi think. She had no idea what Gene did for a living. “What kind of business meeting?”

  “He sells machines and parts for a big company. Has to travel out of state sometimes to meet clients.”

  Ansel came to join them. “Where did his meeting take place?”

  “In Illinois. He had to drive right through Indiana on his way home.” Gaff shook his head. “He got back to Dayton by nine last night, plenty of time for him to meet Colin in the parking lot on his way.”

  Oh, crap. His trip moved him higher up the list rather than lower.

  “Who knows?” Gaff shrugged his shoulders. “The way this case has been going, it’s possible everyone could have been in the parking lot at that time. Walker’s gathering the drivers in his office for us to talk to them. It would be nice if one or two of them would have solid alibis.”

  Jazzi wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She’d rather Gene had plenty of company so that he didn’t look any worse or better than anyone else. She went to get her raincoat and set off with Gaff.

  The rain let up a little before they reached Walker’s office. The weatherman had predicted that it would stick around but slow to a steady drizzle for the next few days. It was steady enough that she covered her head with her hood before leaving the car.

  Walker, Andy, and Earl sat at the rectangular table, all looking glum. When they took their seats, Walker asked, “Someone shot him?”

  Gaff nodded. “The questions are who and why.”

  Andy spread his hands out. “Colin could irritate people, but nothing like Darby. And they didn’t have the same friends. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Let’s start with the simplest thing.” Gaff looked at each of them. “Where were you between five and six last night?”

  Andy spoke first. “My wife and I were with our son’s counselor. She has some new activities she’d like us to try with him.”

  “And she’ll verify that?” Gaff asked.

  Andy nodded. Just then, the door opened, and Bea stepped into the room.

  “Walker called me and thought I should be here for the meeting, too. He told me about Colin.”

  “We’re checking alibis for between five and six last night,” Gaff repeated.

  She nodded and looked at Earl.

  “We were getting supper ready about that time.” Earl winced. “We didn’t start until close to six. I had run to the store for some last-minute items. Bea can’t vouch for me. I don’t have an alibi. She was home, though, talking on the phone with my mom. Mom can verify that.”

  Jazzi frowned. “Most grocery stores put your time of purchase on your checkout tape. Do you have that?”

  “I threw it away, didn’t think I needed it.”

  Gaff poised his pen over his paper. “Give me the name of the store and I’ll stop there, see what I can find out.”

  Earl moved in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “I left the store at five-thirty, and I didn’t come straight home. Colin called and told me he could pay me back the fifty bucks I’d loaned him. I drove to his apartment and knocked on his door, but he wasn’t home. I decided it wasn’t that big of a deal, that he could give me the money later, and left.”

  Gaff shook his head. “And you weren’t going to tell me that?”

  “It doesn’t look good, does it?”

  He flipped a page in his notepad. “What time did you get to his apartment?”

  “About five forty-five.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  Earl swallowed and sent Bea a nervous glance. “A nine-millimeter. I bought it when there was a string of robberies on our side of town. I don’t have anything worth stealing, but these guys beat up a man when they broke into his house.”

  “What about you?” Gaff asked Bea.

  “A shotgun.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Colin was shot with a thirty-eight.”

  Both Earl and Bea looked relieved. Gaff looked at Walker.

  “I was on the phone with Thane,” he said. “He found a great deal on wood flooring he thought would look good in my house. When I hung up with him, Mom called. She was at loose ends without Gene. But I own a thirty-eight. Dad bought it and kept it in his desk.” He got up and walked to the metal desk by the front window. He unlocked the top, right drawer and handed Gaff the gun.

  “Mind if I take this in for testing?”

  He pushed it to him. “I can’t remember the last time I shot it.”

  Jazzi turned to Earl. “When do you guys get paid? Today’s Wednesday. How would Colin end up with extra money on a Tuesday night?”

  Earl blinked, surprised. “I don’t know. Maybe he sold something? Won at cards? He liked poker. He got himself in trouble once when he drove to a casino, but every time he borrowed from me, he paid me back.”

  That’s more than she could say for Darby. Then the words every time stuck in Jazzi’s head. “How many times did Colin ask you for money?”

  “A time or two.” He didn’t want to tell her.

  She wondered if Colin owed other people money, people who weren’t as nice or patient as Earl. “Did Colin borrow from many people?”

  Earl squirmed more. “He had trouble paying back somebody once, and the guy threatened to break his fingers. That’s the time I loaned him two thousand dollars. He got it back to me, though, a little at a time.”

  Bea shook her head. “You were awfully nice to that boy.”

  “He was a good kid, just didn’t always think things through, that’s all.”

  A kid. He was probably only four or five years younger than Earl, but she thought of him as a kid, too. Maybe because he didn’t take anything seriously.

  Gaff looked at Andy and Walker. “Did either of you loan him money?”

  “I never had money to spare,” Andy said.

  Walker shook his head. “He never asked. Dad would have never helped him.”

  Funny, Darby would have turned him away, but he expected Whiskers to bail him out when he was strapped for cash.

  Gaff closed his notepad. “If any of you thinks of anything else, tell me. It might help. And Earl…”

  “I know. Don’t leave town.” Earl didn’t look happy. “I was better off not having an alibi than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I’m glad you leveled with me. It gives us something new to work with. Money’s probably what got Colin killed.” Gaff motioned to Jazzi, and they left. Back in the car, he asked, “Are you up for seeing Whiskers and Haze again tonight? After I drop you off at the house, I’ll see if I can find out more about Colin’s gambling problems.”

  “Count me in.” She hadn’t pegged Colin as a gambler, but it fit with his let-the-chips-fall-where-they-may attitude. They didn’t talk much on the way back to the house. Colin might have been a little immature, but he didn’t deserve to die. And the question lingered: Why had he died?

  Gaff pulled close to the back porch and said, “Four-thirty?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  When she walked into the house, the guys were sitting down to lunch. More work still needed to be done on the kitchen floor, but it would go faster with her there. Jerod handed her a sandwich. “How did it go?”

  She shared everything she’d learned. When she finished, Ansel shook his head. “I can’t see Earl murdering anyone. He comes across as too nice.”

  “So does Gene,” Jerod countered. “All of them do. I guess you can look a murderer right in the eye and never guess what he’s capable of.”

  Jazzi grimaced and went for a cup of coffee. “Enough talk about murder. I have four hours before Gaff comes back for me. I want to think about happier thoughts until then.”

  Ansel grinned. “Did we tell
you that George missed you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  So they tried. They talked about paint colors and what kinds of knobs and handles to use for each room while she and Jerod finished laying and grouting the kitchen tiles. Once done, Jazzi stood back to admire their work. The mosaic pattern gave the floor a timeless feel. That done, she and Jerod helped Ansel sand the staircase. The wooden steps, spindles, and handrail were all worn. They’d sand all of them—a time-consuming job even in the places where they could use a hand sander. But they were making good progress. She was in a better mood when Gaff returned for her.

  Chapter 44

  When they reached Whiskers’s house, Haze opened the door for them. Dressed in tight, black exercise pants that emphasized her muscular thighs and a form-fitting shirt that hugged her biceps, she looked formidable, even when she hid her tattoos.

  “Business has been so slow, Clay let me stay home tonight,” she told them. “Tonya needs the extra tips, and if things pick up a little, Clay said he’d help her on the floor.”

  “Clay’s easy to work for, isn’t he?” Jazzi asked.

  “He’s a solid guy. Getting a little lonely since he broke up with his girlfriend, but some girl will snatch him up soon.” She took Jazzi’s raincoat. “I’ll hang this in the mudroom and get Whiskers. Make yourselves comfortable in the living room.”

  They took the two wooden chairs, as usual. A pair of heavy handheld weights lay on the floor by Jazzi’s. No wonder Haze’s biceps bulged. She came back with Whiskers in tow and sat next to him on the sofa.

  “What can we help you with now?” she asked.

  Gaff reached for his notepad. “Colin, one of the drivers for Darby, was shot dead in his apartment building’s parking lot last night between five and six. Did you know him?”

  Whiskers snorted. “’Course I did. He worked for Darby, didn’t he? I was at that cement company a thousand times or more when I had days off and me and Darby were going fishing or barhopping.”

  “Did he ever talk to you about money?”

  Whiskers stared. “Why would he? Do I look like an investment expert?”

  Gaff shook his head. “No, I mean did he ever ask to borrow money from you?”

  “He knew me better than that.” Whiskers tugged at his beard, a nervous habit. “Why would the kid need money? He made good wages, wasn’t in debt as far as I knew. Stayed in a cheap apartment.”

  “Word is he had a gambling problem,” Gaff said.

  “Didn’t seem the type.”

  Haze patted his thigh. “Neither do you, but you like to put money on those lottery tickets.”

  “Those don’t get me in trouble. Sounds like Colin dipped into more than bingo and scratch-off tickets.”

  “Earl loaned him money once in a while.” Gaff scanned through his notes. “Helped him pay back two thousand dollars once.”

  “You should never bet what you can’t afford to lose.” Whiskers grimaced. “The boy should have known that.”

  “For some people, it’s an addiction. We’re leaning toward the idea that Darby and Colin both died because of money.”

  Whiskers frowned and pushed to his feet. “I need a beer. Why would Darby die because of money? The only person he cheated out of cash was me.”

  Jazzi stared, and Whiskers looked uneasy. She regarded him intently for a moment, then asked, “Did you know that Darby had been saving money for a long time and kept a hundred and fifty thousand dollars wrapped in a rubber band in his desk?”

  “Never mentioned it.”

  She went on. “I keep tripping over him having that money but having to borrow from you to fix his truck.”

  “Looks like he wasn’t gonna part with any of it.”

  “Either that, or he didn’t have it when the truck broke down. We keep thinking he saved the money, but what if he didn’t? What if he won the whole thing a short while ago? You knew that, didn’t you? And that’s why you were so mad that he didn’t pay you back.”

  Haze turned on the couch to lock gazes with him. “Darby never gambled. Laughed at you for wasting your money every week on scratch-offs.”

  “He was getting desperate. Quick money started to look good to him.”

  Haze stood to face him. “No. Two months ago, when he was stopping at the gas station to fill up his truck and you asked him to pick up some tickets for you while he was there, he didn’t want to take your money. Said the state of Indiana was robbing you. But when you grumbled enough, he promised he’d buy your favorites for you.”

  “So?” Whiskers squirmed. “He must have decided to buy a couple for himself since he was there.”

  Haze put her hands on her hips, her expression hard. “That’s when you two started arguing about money and you stopped playing the lottery.”

  Whiskers’s face reddened to a deep scarlet. “Shut up, woman! You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  Jazzi stood, too. “One of your tickets paid off, didn’t it? You won, and Darby kept your money.”

  “Wouldn’t I tell the whole world if that happened?”

  Gaff tucked his notepad back into his pocket. “You couldn’t prove anything. Darby paid for the tickets. You couldn’t prove he used your money.”

  Whiskers yelled, “He was supposed to be my friend! I should have been able to trust him. I even offered to split the ticket with him since he bought it, but he just laughed at me.”

  Gaff started to stand, but Whiskers raced into the kitchen. When he came back, he held a gun.

  Haze crossed her arms. “What are you going to do? Shoot all three of us? I’m not going to stand here to be a target. Neither are they. One of us will get to you.”

  “He’s got handcuffs.” Whiskers motioned to Gaff. “Two of you can lock yourselves to the bottom stair post. It’s heavy enough to hold you. That’ll buy me some time to get away. Haze, I’ll have to lock you in the basement.”

  “No.” She didn’t move. “Why did you kill Colin?”

  “He played the lottery, too. Figured it out when he heard Darby had that money in his drawer. Promised to stay quiet if I paid him enough. Probably was getting squeezed for a gambling debt.”

  Jazzi tried to remember the timing that night. “So you told him you’d meet him and give him the money, and instead, you shot him. But we came here at five. You were going to take a nap.”

  “Thought I’d have a decent alibi.” Whiskers sounded disappointed. “You only stayed ten minutes. I’d already set up the meeting with Colin. When you left, I drove there, then hightailed it on back and was on the couch when Haze dashed over to fetch me for supper. Thought I’d zonked out and didn’t wake up.”

  “Why not just pay him off?” Haze asked. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

  “He’d never stop. Every time he lost at cards, he’d hit me up.” He waved the gun. “Enough talking. I’ll lock you in the basement first, Haze. Then I’ll cuff these two to the staircase.”

  Haze shook her head. “You know I hate that basement. I’m not going down there. Mom used to lock me in the closet for hours, sometimes days. I told you my story.”

  He pressed his lips together, frustrated. “Sit down, then, and I’ll tie you up. And don’t try nothing.”

  She sat in the chair Jazzi had vacated.

  “Put your hands behind you.” He unhooked his belt. When he bent to wrap it around one of her wrists, she grabbed his gun hand, reached for a weight, and smacked him in the head with it. He fell, and she ripped the gun out of his hand.

  Gaff drew the gun from his shoulder holster, too—the reason he always wore a suit jacket. They both aimed at him.

  He stared up at Haze. “What did you go and do that for? I wouldn’t have hurt you.”

  “You say that now. How long would it have taken you to decide we were liabilities, to
o? That maybe you should start a house fire before you walked to the bar and pretended the cops thought I’d killed Darby for some reason. Who else would figure out Darby stole your money?”

  “I’d never hurt you.”

  As Gaff cuffed him, she turned away from him. “I never thought you’d hurt Darby either. But you did, didn’t you?”

  Jazzi and Haze went to the bar while Gaff called for backup. It was a while before a squad car drove Whiskers to lockup. Then he came to join them. They were each drinking a beer.

  “You look like you need one, too.” Clay went to pour Gaff a cold one, but Gaff waved the idea away.

  “I have to go back to the station. Still on duty. When Jazzi finishes her drink, I’ll drive her home first.”

  Jazzi put her hand over Haze’s. “Are you going to be all right?”

  Haze shrugged. “He’s not the first man to let me down. My friend’s boyfriend dumped her, so she’s alone now, too. We can share an apartment again. I’ll survive.”

  Jazzi felt sorry for her, but she knew Haze would plug into work and move on. There wasn’t much else to say, so when she finished her beer, she followed Gaff to his car and brooded on the drive home. He was brooding, too, she could tell. At least, they could share their down moods.

  Chapter 45

  Later that night, Gaff called to ask if he could invite everyone to meet at Jazzi and Ansel’s house in the morning. “You have plenty of room. It won’t be quite as grim as going through everything with them at the station.”

  “Can Jerod and Ansel be part of the meeting?” she asked. “They’ve followed everything that’s happened so far.”

  “You three found Darby’s body, and they were there when Walker’s brakes went out. They’re part of the case, too.”

  They settled on nine o’clock. When she told Ansel, he said, “Make lots of coffee. I’ll make a donut run before they get here. I’ll call Jerod to let him know.”

  “Maybe once Gaff closes the case, that will help put it behind us.” They’d had a crappy night. She’d never say it to Walker, but the more she learned about Darby and Whiskers, the more the case bothered her. She could see the good in almost everyone she met, but she’d yet to discover it in them. How could two men care so little about the people they loved? They’d tainted her view of humanity, and she wanted to wash the memory away. It would take a while, like trying to scrub a stain off your skin.