“My aunt found him at a local shelter. From what she said, they thought he’d been abused and abandoned. It took some time for him to start trusting people again. I inherited him along with this house when Aunt Sybil passed away a while back.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
Most of the time people said something like that because it was expected. Somehow she thought he really meant it.
She set a trayful of drinks and cookies down on the small table between the two chairs. After sitting down herself, she handed Gil a plastic bag with a few of Zeke’s favorite treats in it. “I’ll let you dole those out to your buddy there. I’ll warn you that he’ll gobble them all down at once if you let him and then beg for your share of the people cookies. He has mooching down to an art form.”
Gil laughed and slipped Zeke a treat before tucking the rest into his shirt pocket. He reached for his glass of tea and took a long drink. “That hits the spot.”
Hoping to encourage him to answer her questions, she said, “Why don’t you tell me what you want to know, Mr. Pratt?”
“Call me Gil. When people call me Mr. Pratt, it usually means I’m in trouble of some kind.” He softened the comment with a small smile. “I noticed you watching me at the bar last night when you and Tripp Blackston were out on the dance floor. You looked a bit . . . let’s say, scared. If our paths crossed before then, I don’t remember it.”
She sighed. “The answer to that question ties into my questions about Bryce. I saw you talking to him the night he died. There seemed to be a lot of tension between you at the time.”
Gil slowly ate one of the cookies and reached for a second. “I’m guessing that’s why Gage Logan got all up in my face about that night.”
“Sorry, but yeah. He asked me for the names of everyone I saw talking to Bryce that night. I didn’t know your name, but some friends of mine did. I’m sorry if I caused you problems with Gage, but he talked to a whole bunch of people about that night.”
He shrugged. “Gage and I manage to get along most of the time. It’s not the first time he’s shown up on my doorstep. It won’t be the last. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. I didn’t kill Bryce and don’t know who did. But if you made a list of people who had reason to hate that guy, it would likely be a long one.”
“It sure seems that way.”
As she pondered what to say next, Gil asked another question. “So if you thought I might have killed Bryce, why would you go out of your way to tell the police I didn’t start the fight last night?”
“Actually, I wasn’t the one who told them.”
He snorted. “You were watching me as you walked out into the parking lot and then said something to Blackston. He made a beeline over to talk to one of the deputies. Next thing I knew, they took the zip tie off my wrists, stuck me in a squad car, and then drove me to the hospital. Gage said no charges would be filed because a witness stated someone else threw the first punch.”
She couldn’t argue with his logic. “How did you get my name? Gage told me this morning that they didn’t include it in the police reports.”
“Same way you got mine. I asked around to see who the pretty lady was who’d been dancing with Tripp.”
She blushed just a little at his description of her. “I told them because it wouldn’t have been right not to. I saw how those guys kept crowding you at the bar. When you tried to step away, they wouldn’t let you. Are they going to come after you again?”
“I’ll be fine. My brother took care of the problem.” Then he gave her a hard look out of his swollen eye. “You really don’t want to draw their attention in your direction, by the way. It’s best if you don’t ask a lot of questions where they’re not welcome. Things might not turn out the way you would like.”
That was an understatement. Sitting on her front porch sipping tea with a badass biker was a prime example. Still, she smiled. “I’m glad you’re in the clear, but message received and understood. It’s actually something I hear pretty often from Tripp and Gage.”
“Maybe you should listen better if they have to keep telling you that.” Gil finished the last of his tea. “So what questions did you have about Bryce?”
Trying to choose her words carefully, she stated the obvious. “I can’t say that I knew him at all, but I do know he could turn his charm off and on like a faucet.”
The biker looked thoroughly disgusted. “That’s putting it mildly. I’m guessing you know Bryce grew up next door to us, although he was quite a bit younger than me. By the time he reached high school, my brother and I had both enlisted, not that it had been our intention to do any such thing.”
She held off asking him what he meant, figuring this was his story and he had the right to tell it any way he wanted to. She nibbled on a cookie while she waited.
“Someone in our neighborhood vandalized a bunch of houses over a period of a few weeks. The cops tried to catch whoever it was, but they didn’t have any luck. Back then my old man owned the motorcycle repair shop, but Gary and I both worked there. We all had uniform shirts with our names on them. The police conveniently found one of my shirts at one of the crime scenes. Luckily, I had an ironclad alibi for that night. They tried to pin it on my brother next, but they couldn’t make it stick.”
He offered Zeke another treat and went back to stroking the dog’s fur. “Not saying we were angels, mind you, but we weren’t guilty that time. In the end, the old chief of police made it clear to us that he’d had enough of us to last a lifetime. He offered us a deal: either we enlisted and let the military make something of us, or the next time we stepped out of line he’d throw the book at us.”
“How does Bryce play into this?”
“The first time I came home on leave, I caught him about to use a can of spray paint on a neighbor’s car. When I cornered the jerk, he laughed about me ending up in the navy for something he did. I wanted to wring his scrawny neck for him, but that would’ve only caused my folks more problems, not to mention me.”
“So he had a history of causing trouble.”
“Yeah, he did, not that any of it ever stuck. I never could understand how he managed to fool so many people. Then, while Gary and I were away, someone broke into the folks’ place several times and stole stuff. It’s not like our family had much to begin with, but my mom had a few pieces of silver that had been handed down in the family. The cops couldn’t figure out who was behind the break-in, but a couple of the items eventually turned up in a pawn shop up in Tacoma. The person who hocked them fit Bryce’s description, or at least it sure seemed that way to me. Nothing ever came of the investigation, though.”
“Did your mom get her silver back?”
“Yeah, Gary and I bought it back for her. The homeowner’s insurance had paid off on the claim, but she’d already used the money to pay Dad’s medical bills.”
Well, Abby had gotten her answers. She was quite sure that Gil could be every bit as scary as she’d thought he’d been last night, but he was also a man who had clearly loved his parents. Even though she’d only heard his version of how things had played out between his family and Bryce all those years ago, she found herself believing Gil’s account of the events.
“Thank you for trusting me with your story. I appreciate it.”
He patted Zeke’s head one last time and offered him the last of the treats Abby had given him. “Well, I need to get back to the shop. Thanks for the tea and cookies.”
“You’re welcome, and thank you again for the lovely flowers. I put them in a vase on my kitchen table, where I can enjoy them.”
They both stood up. When he winced, she asked, “Should you be working with your ribs still hurting like that?”
“I’ll be fine. Gary is already there working on the bikes. I’m going to spend a few hours catching up on paperwork, which we both hate. He figures he got the better end of the deal.”
“Before you go, would you like some cookies to take with you? You don’t even have to share them wit
h your brother if he gives you too much grief.”
“I like the way you think, Ms. McCree.” Gil’s laughter had him wincing in pain. “And I’d never turn down a chance at some homemade cookies, especially if I can lord them over Gary.”
“Give me a second to grab you a container of them. I always have a supply in the freezer. I like to bake when things are bothering me, and that seems to happen all too often lately.”
“Sorry to hear that, but I’ll be glad to take some off your hands.”
She was in and out in a flash with the promised goodies. “Here you go. I hope you feel better soon.”
“Thanks, I’ll be fine.”
He took the container and started down the front steps, still moving pretty gingerly. When he reached the bottom, he turned back to face her. “I should also thank you for organizing the auction and the dance to help out veterans. That was real generous of you. I’m just sorry things went off the rails at the auction like they did.”
“It’s me who should thank you for your service, Gil.”
He shifted from one foot to the other and back again, clearly uncomfortable with her comment. Finally, he jerked his head in a quick nod. “Do me a favor, show your gratitude by letting Gage Logan figure out who murdered Bryce. If someone was desperate enough to kill him, they won’t think twice about coming after you, too.”
Then he walked away.
Chapter Eighteen
After watching Gil drive away in a beat-up pickup truck, Abby spent the afternoon working on her aunt’s quilt. She finished stitching the last two strips together and set the quilt top aside. It took several attempts to work the kinks out of her back after spending so much time sitting in one position. It was well past time to head downstairs to fix something to eat.
Zeke followed her into the kitchen to stand by his food bowl, a less than subtle hint that it was well past their normal dinnertime. When she didn’t immediately spring into action, he sighed and nosed the bowl a couple of inches in her direction before lifting his mournful gaze to meet hers.
“Okay, okay, don’t nag. It’s not like you’re starving.”
He clearly didn’t agree with that assessment. Rather than continue to disappoint him, she quickly filled his bowl and then set about fixing her own dinner. She heated up a bowl of the soup left over from two days before and made a sandwich to go with it. When everything was ready, she carried it down the hall to the living room. She often ate by herself in the kitchen, but tonight she couldn’t face sitting alone at the big oak table.
Instead, her plan was to park herself in her favorite chair and watch a movie as she ate. Torn between several options, she finally chose a romantic comedy. It would be nice to enjoy a few laughs and see at least someone’s love life work out for them.
With Zeke curled up at her feet and a glass of wine sitting close by, she settled in for a long evening of waiting to see just how late it would be before Valerie and Tripp came back home.
* * *
As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait all that long. The movie was only about half over when Zeke announced he needed to go outside. Abby followed him to the kitchen and let him out the back door. Deciding a breath of fresh air would be welcome, she walked out onto the porch to watch the dog make his evening rounds. He’d made it only halfway around the perimeter of the yard when he suddenly jerked his head up from the ground to watch the driveway.
Although she didn’t hear or see anything that would’ve caught his attention, Abby didn’t doubt for a second that someone was headed their way. Sure enough, a few seconds later headlights lit up the driveway as the barnacle’s rental car pulled into sight. Zeke made a beeline for Tripp as he climbed out of the passenger side. Valerie was a little slower to leave the confines of the car, but she finally stepped out.
Even from where Abby stood, it wasn’t hard to interpret the body language between her tenant and her houseguest. The tension was almost palpable, leaving her wondering what was wrong. Had the meeting with the attorney gone badly? Or was Valerie not happy that they’d gotten back far earlier than she’d hoped.
Telling herself it wasn’t really any of her business, Abby decided to head back inside. If either Tripp or Valerie wanted her to know how their afternoon had gone, they knew where to find her. On her way to let Zeke out, she’d carried her dinner dishes back in from the living room. She gave them a quick rinse before putting them in the dishwasher. Valerie walked in just as Abby was closing the dishwasher door.
“Welcome back.”
Clearly Abby’s innocuous greeting didn’t go over well, because Valerie didn’t slow down from the second she came through the door until she started up the stairs at the other end of the hall. As she exited the kitchen, she called back over her shoulder, “I’m going up to my room for the night.”
Well, at least that eliminated the need for Abby to try to make conversation. She’d lost interest in her movie, and it was too early to go to bed. Besides, she also needed to wait until Zeke was ready to come back inside. When she peeked out the kitchen window toward Tripp’s house, he was sitting on his front porch step petting his furry friend.
She grabbed a couple of beers out of the refrigerator and headed their way. He kept his focus on the dog until she drifted to a stop a few feet shy of where he sat. If he didn’t want company, he could say so.
Finally, he looked up. “Are you going to drink both of those yourself?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
He immediately scooted over to make room on the step for her. She handed him his drink and made herself comfortable. The three of them sat for several minutes, letting the sounds of the night surround them. When Tripp remained silent, Abby tried priming the pump.
“I had an interesting visitor right after you guys left today.”
Tripp gave her a sideways glance but didn’t say anything. Taking that as her cue to continue, she braced herself for a possible explosion and said, “Gil Pratt stopped by while you were gone.”
To her surprise, Tripp took the news remarkably well. “What did he have to say for himself?”
“He wanted to thank me for letting the deputies know that he didn’t start the fight last night. He even brought me flowers.”
Okay, that clearly surprised Tripp almost as much as it had her. “Seriously? He doesn’t seem like the type.”
She nodded. “Yep, he did. I hesitated to answer the door when I realized who it was, but then I saw the bouquet. Maybe I’m crazy, but I couldn’t imagine him taking the time to buy flowers if he meant me any harm.”
“Well, unless that’s exactly what he was hoping you’d think.”
“True, but I also made sure Zeke was the first thing Gil saw when I opened the door.” She huffed a small laugh. “I’ve always trusted Zeke’s taste in people, and he took an instant liking to Gil.”
Tripp frowned big-time. “That deputy promised to keep your name out of the report, so how did he figure out you were the one who talked to the cops?”
The answer to that question had her smiling. “Gil asked around to see who the ‘pretty lady’ was who’d been dancing with you at the bar.”
Tripp’s tension faded as quickly as it had appeared. “The joys of living in a small town.”
“True enough. Anyway, I invited him to sit out on the porch and offered him iced tea and cookies. Then we took turns asking each other questions.”
“Learn anything interesting?”
“Yeah, I did.” She paused long enough to sip her beer and then gave him a brief rundown of what Gil had told her. “Everything he said fits with the picture I’m getting of what kind of man Bryce Cadigan was. A lot of glitz hiding a dark nature.”
Tripp set his empty bottle down on the porch. “So, I only have one question about Gil. After all this time, was he still angry enough to want to kill Bryce for the trouble he caused his family back in the day?”
That was a question she’d been mulling over herself, finally deciding all she could do
was go with her gut feeling. “I’m pretty sure Gil is capable of violence, but I don’t think he killed Bryce. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known where to find Bryce all this time. If he’d wanted to take revenge on him, there would’ve been plenty of other opportunities where Gil wouldn’t have painted a target on himself as a possible suspect.”
Tripp considered that for several seconds. “That makes sense. We’ll leave him on the list but consider him a low probability.”
“Good. I’d hate to think I sent a killer home with three dozen of my best oatmeal raisin cookies.”
It felt like a long time since she’d heard Tripp really laugh. Too bad they still had something else to talk about. She waited for him to move on to Valerie’s visit with the attorney. When he lapsed back into silence, she decided to force the issue. “I take it that it didn’t go well with the attorney.”
He shook his head. “She asked me to sit in on their meeting. The guy was impressive and very experienced in dealing with felony cases. God knows he’d have to be good to charge as much as he does. He thinks the evidence against her is circumstantial at best, but he made a point of saying people have been convicted on a lot less.”
Tripp leaned back to stare up at the night sky. “He wasn’t sure her moving in with the prosecution’s star witness was the smartest thing she could’ve done.”
Abby tried not to sound too hopeful when she asked, “Did he tell her to move out?”
“He said the damage was already done and left it up to her.”
He turned his gaze back in Abby’s direction. “I will ask her to leave, though, if you want me to. She’s my problem, not yours. I should never have suggested she move into your house instead of mine.”
There was no way Abby would admit that she’d rather have the barnacle holed up in her third-floor guest room than sharing the rather close quarters of Tripp’s place.
“It’s fine, Tripp. This isn’t easy for any of us.”
It was time to go. She picked up the empty beer bottles. “Now, Zeke and I will head home and let you get started on your homework.”
Death by Auction Page 19
