by Lilly York
Willow turned to Steve. “Can we see the knife?”
He was unsure. “I’m sure I can get us access to the pictures of the knife. Would that help?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to see it.”
Steve added. “One thing in your favor, Chester, is whoever stabbed Dean knew exactly where to stab him to cause the most damage. Of course the police are saying you got lucky.”
“Man, I didn’t stab him. I just went back to check on him. I don’t even know where he went.”
A detective friend of Steve’s brought out some pictures of the murder weapon. Willow was surprised at how small it was and how, well, feminine. She looked closely at the marbled handle. Just big enough for a lady’s hand. She would expect a gang member street thug to carry a much larger weapon. “Surely they don’t think this little knife is Chester’s. I can’t imagine he’d be caught dead with that weapon.”
Steve interrupted. “Except he was.”
She had to give him that. “True. We have to get a move on if we’re going to make any part of the funeral.”
“You still want to go?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, I thought we had a deal. You’d let this go if you were able to talk with Chester.”
“I said I’d let it go if after talking with him I was convinced he did it. Which, I’m all the more convinced he didn’t do it.”
Steve closed his eyes for a second them opened them. “Come on. Let’s get going.”
After leaving Chester, they went straight to the cemetery for the interment. Willow stood at an angle where she could see all her primary suspects’ faces. They say the murderer usually attends the funeral to see the work of their hands. Willow was counting on it. Bridget was standing a couple of rows behind the family with a few of the minor league baseball players. Preston was sitting with, or so Willow presumed, his sister in the few folding chairs provided. Standing behind Preston was Brian. Willow had looked him up online. She pointed him out to Steve as they stood surveying the crowd. “Seems he has quite the reputation as a ladies’ man.” Plural being key in that description. Not one to be tied down, he had a different girl on his arm for each function he attended, including this one. The tall, thin blonde was fashionably dressed and looked his equal in regards to public profiles. Willow wondered who she was.
Willow noticed, what looked like two clergy men talking on the sidelines. Sometimes she wished she had a super hearing super power. Steven nodded to Phillip Crank who was on the opposite side of the coffin. They all waited for whoever was doing the service to take his place by the coffin. Willow noticed a few family members were looking a little confused. She tapped Steve. “I wonder what’s going on.” She whispered as the pastor or priest or whatever he was began the service. He read from the Bible then prayed. He ended with sprinkling holy water on the coffin and said, “Lord, I commit Michael into your care. Willow leaned into Steve. “I didn’t think the family was Catholic and who the heck is Michael?” When he was finished, the other man stood up and read a few scripture and prayed. She commented yet again. “This is confusing.”
“Shhh…you’re supposed to be watching our suspects. Not the pastor.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right. You should see the daggers Bridget is shooting Brian’s way. I would say she does not like his date. Huh.”
A veiled lady in front of them turned around and gave Willow a dirty look.
“Oh, sorry.” Willow put her finger to her lips, as if Steve was the one being loud.
He rolled his eyes but remained quiet.
Once the service was complete, Steve went to talk with Phillip and Willow went to chat with Preston and his sister. At least she hoped for a moment with them. She stood on the sideline and waited her turn. The second clergyman was talking with Preston first. She couldn’t help but overhear.
“Who is the Catholic Priest?”
Preston looked puzzled. “We thought he was with you.”
“No, I’ve never seen him before. He told me before the service you asked him to handle the interment. Then Michael isn’t Dean’s middle name?”
“No, we have no idea who Michael is. Nor did we ask the priest to the funeral, let alone to speak graveside.”
The pastor crossed his arms. “Huh, I wonder who spoke at Michael’s funeral then.”
Willow placed her index finger in her mouth and bit down to keep from laughing.
Preston shook the pastor’s hand and thanked him for being so understanding. “Even so, it was a nice service.”
“Yes it was. I’ll see you back at the church for refreshments.”
Willow wondered if the priest had to go back to his own church and face Michael’s family. She sure wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.
Preston’s eyes lit up when he saw Willow. He took her hands in his. “It’s so good of you to come.” He turned to his sister. “Janice, this is Willow. Willow, this is my sister, Janice.”
She removed her hands from his embrace and shook Janice’s hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. You were there when Preston found my son, right?”
“Yes, I was there.”
Her eyes misted over. Willow was surprised she had any tears left.
Janice looked to her brother. “We better be gettin’ on over to the church. People will be there waitin’ on us.” She turned to Willow. “Will we see you there?”
“Yes, I believe we’ll be there.” She hoped Steve knew which church the luncheon was at or they just might end up at the Catholic Church with Michael’s family.
Chapter 11
“I didn’t plan on going to the church.”
“How else are we going to see how everyone reacts to one another? This could be quite telling.” Her stomach grumbled. “Besides, I’m hungry. Guaranteed they’ll have a pretty good spread. Funerals usually bring out the best cooks.”
Steve perked up. “This is true. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“How is Phillip holding up?”
Steve shook his head. “Not the greatest. He’s still wondering what he could have done to prevent the whole mess. Five of his students are being held in lock up. Unless the evidence proves otherwise, Chester is going to be tried as an adult. He’s losing sleep with worry.” He changed lanes then added. “And he has this fundraiser on top of everything else. He can’t reschedule. It’s too late. He’ll lose the money he’s invested and the center will go under.”
“Everything’s going to work out. Trust me, it will. And the fund raiser is going to be a raging success.”
“How do you know?”
“Cause, I just do.”
He pulled into the church parking lot and shut the truck off. Both he and Willow remained seated. Willow glanced at Steve’s profile. He was staring straight ahead in obvious thought.
She interrupted and asked, “Did anyone find Dean’s cell phone?”
“Oh, not that I know of. They had ordered his phone records and were expecting them this afternoon. I’m sure I’ll be able to see them when they do.”
She nodded, “Good, I’d like to see them too.” She turned to him. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go. Should we split up after we eat and see what we can find?” He looked at his watch. “What do you say we meet back here in an hour?”
“An hour? I think we’ll need more like two.”
“Fine. Two it is.” He opened his truck door. “But first, we eat.”
Her stomach spoke for her so she just nodded her head.
People were already seated at long, end-to-end tables with what appeared to be casserole heaven on their plates. Because she generally cooked for one, she rarely made casseroles. On the rare occasion she did, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to, she ended up sharing a little with Clover. The rest she threw away. So, she refrained even though on occasion her sought after chicken enchilada recipe somehow made it into her oven. She was pretty certain Embry could smell that baking fr
om the city as she always showed up as Willow was pulling it out of the oven.
She tried to get a good look at everyone’s plate as they walked through the building and to the families’ sitting area. Too many tuna casseroles and not even chicken enchiladas. What is the world coming to?
Even though Willow had already expressed her condolences, Steve had not. He had yet to meet Janice. Preston, he remembered well. Still, etiquette demand he behave properly and not give into the jealousy that was tugging at his heart. He extended his hand and a smile. “Good to see you again, Preston.”
Preston nodded knowing full well Steve was the competition. “This is my sister, Janice.”
“Ma’am.” He took her slight hand in his own.
Just as Willow opened her mouth to speak, someone from the kitchen yelled out, holding a landline in her hand. “Is Father Jericho here? St. Luke’s is looking all over for him. It seems he never showed up at the cemetery.”
Steve looked at Willow. “What are you laughing at?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ll tell you later.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “You ready to get something to eat? I see Detective Martin is in the food line. Let’s join him. Maybe he has some new information.”
The three of them took their loaded plates and found a quiet end of a table. Willow did all the talking for the first five minutes. The guys were too busy eating.
“Detective, is there any way I can see the evidence? I still don’t believe Chester killed Dean. Yeah, he kicked him with his cleats on and yeah, he took the knife. But he didn’t kill him. I’m sure of it.”
The detective wiped some barbecue sauce off his chin. “Believe it or not, we really do want to put the right guy behind bars. But, we have to go where the evidence takes us. Fact, Chester’s cleats had the victim’s blood on them. Fact, a knife with the victim’s blood and Chester’s finger prints were found in Chester’s room at his grandmother’s house. We can place him at the scene of the crime. We know he has a motive and we certainly know he has a temper. The only thing we are lacking is a confession.”
Willow sucked her breath in. “You’re beating it out of him, aren’t you?”
Steve and Martin both started laughing. “You watch too many crime shows.”
Martin put his hand out to quiet Steve. “No, we aren’t beating it out of him. His insistence on being innocent has given us reason to go over the evidence again to see if we are missing anything. We want the murderer behind bars. Not an innocent man.” He paused. “If he is innocent, that is.” He took a swig of his tea. “And to answer your question, I don’t see a reason why you and Steve can’t take a look at the evidence. Come back to the station with me and I’ll get you set up.”
Willow smiled victoriously until she heard raised voices. Turning, she saw Bridget arguing with Brian, Dean’s best friend, well, former best friend. And just who she needed to talk to. Bridget was an enigma. She was all over the place, in everyone’s business. For a person who seemed as though she had something to hide she was everywhere. Willow was having a tough time sizing her up. Which reminded her to go back to the hospital.
Brian was keeping his voice low, Bridget, on the other hand was raising her voice. Brian was looking around, gauging who was paying attention and who wasn’t. Bridget didn’t seem to care who was listening. He was obviously concerned someone would over hear what she was saying. Dean was definitely the subject of their conversation. Willow excused herself and wandered closer to where they stood, hoping to hear something of value.
She leaned against the wall just around the corner from the arguing couple, hoping she wasn’t too obvious, and listened to the accusations.
“You got too greedy, Brian. You wanted more and look what happened.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You better shut your mouth before someone overhears you.”
“Good! Maybe you’ll pay for what you’ve done.”
“Done? I haven’t done anything.”
She heard a bit of a scuffle and then Bridget said, “Don’t you ever touch me again. I’m warning you, you ever lay a hand on me again and your nasty little secret will have the world’s ear.”
Another voice, one Willow recognized joined the discussion. “This is not the time nor the place. We’ll discuss this later.”
Suddenly the voices halted. Willow edged closer to the bend in the wall just as Bridget stepped around the corner. “You again? You really need to learn to mind your own business.” Bridget pushed passed Willow and headed for the door.
Willow turned to see Brian leaning against the wall in a relaxed pose, arms crossed, and a crooked grin plastered against his face.
“I heard you’ve been looking for me.”
“Looks like I’ve finally found you.”
He nodded in the direction Bridget had just left. “I wouldn’t pay any mind to anything Bridget has to say. Drama is her drug of choice.”
“And yours is avoidance?”
He laughed. “Good one, but no. I’ve been busy. I haven’t avoided anything.” He looked her up and down. “Or anyone.”
Willow involuntarily shuddered. He was good looking but somehow his looks only served to further his creepiness. “Good to hear. I thought you might have something to hide.”
He laughed again. “Don’t we all?” He shifted and stood upright. “Well, I’m here now. Ask me anything you want.”
Willow felt Steve’s presence before she heard his voice. She was glad to have him nearby. She wasn’t one to make snap judgements about anyone, but this guy had some bad mojo about him. She took a step backward and bumped Steve’s shoulder.
Steve, apparently not getting the same vibe as she did, took a step forward and stretched out his hand. “Steve Grice.”
Willow noticed he didn’t attach police chief to his name.
Brian met him halfway. “Brian Wilson.”
Steve nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Willow watched as Brian’s demeanor softened. He became almost human. “Yeah, it’s been tough.”
“We’re trying to figure out what happened. Anything you can help us out with? I know you two were close. I’m sure you want to see his killer brought to justice.”
Brian shook his head. “Yeah, I wish I could help but I’ve got nothin’. Even though he had his share of problems, he didn’t deserve what he got.”
Steve placed his hands on his hips then asked, “I heard Dean worked for you.”
This question caused Brian to make eye contact with Steve. “Not sure where you heard that but you heard wrong. Dean worked for Chilis.”
“Oh, I know he worked for Chilis. But someone told me he did some work for you on the side.” Steve watched Brian’s reaction.
Brian was fidgeting. Obviously nervous. Willow watched as his aloofness dissipated. “A long time ago maybe, but not recently. I’m sure whoever said that was just confused. He was a druggie. I wouldn’t have him working for me. Our friendship didn’t run that deep.”
“That’s kind of harsh. Your best friend just died. I was under the impression relationships described as best friends ran pretty deep.”
“Yeah, well, things change.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I gotta get out of here. I’m running late. I hope you find whoever it is who did this thing.”
Willow and Steve stood side by side and watched Brian walk through the exit. They followed him and noticed a couple of Mexican muscle men talking to him in the parking lot. They used a lot of hand gestures before getting into a large 4x4 truck and following behind Brian’s Mercedes.
Steve commented, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this guy. Not sure if he’s responsible for Dean’s death, but he sure isn’t on the up and up, that much is for sure.”
Willow nodded and before she could comment, Preston chose to join them. She glanced at Steve but kept quiet. She had no idea how much Preston overheard and she certainly didn’t want to give him anything else to chew on.
“I see you fin
ally met Brian.”
Willow was grateful. He may have been stating the obvious but at least he wasn’t serenading her. “Yep. It was a bit anticlimactic.”
“I can understand that.”
Willow wondered if Preston was throwing Brian under the bus to save his own hide. She was still at a loss. Preston had 50,000 reasons for being upset with Dean. Bridget had a few and Brian seemed to have none. At least so far. The one thing she knew for certain was, Chester may be a trouble maker, but he wasn’t Dean’s killer. She was 100% sure. Well, make that 99%.
Steve and Willow met Detective Martin back at the station and looked over the evidence. Dean’s phone records were the first thing that caught Willow’s eye. She noticed several numbers with multiple calls. Some lasting mere seconds while others lasted a few minutes or even longer. She noted the numbers so she could do a reverse look up from her computer later. She wanted to know who Dean had been in contact with leading up to and the night of his murder.
Steve was looking at the knife. “You’re right. This isn’t the type of knife I would expect a gang member to be carrying.” The knife, with its mother of pearl inlay, was also carved. It was a beautiful piece. He looked closer. There was script of some sort. He was having a hard time focusing. “Willow, can you read this?” He held the plastic bag up for her to get a closer look.
Detective Martin interjected, “Oh, we had to read it with a magnifying glass. It says Mexico.”
Willow replayed the scene outside the church. A couple of Mexican strong men and Brian Wilson arguing. Exactly what kind of business is Brian in?
Chapter 12
The next morning Willow dropped Clover off at the groomers for her appointment. What she would give for a day at the spa. Yeah, like that’ll happen anytime soon. Might be a good idea for Christmas for her and Embry. She tucked the idea away in her mental planner. She grimaced as her big toe on her right foot pressed against the inside of her shoe. Before anyone is touching my foot I’ll have to have this ingrown toenail taken care of.
