A fire came to her eyes. “Leave my son out of this!”
I took a step back. “I just asked a question is all.”
Leah flew even more off the handle. “And you heard my answer. Leave Nathan alone.”
Leah turned her car on and put her hand on the gear shift.
Even though the conversation was rapidly deteriorating, I tried to salvage it. “Mrs. Stewart, I didn’t mean any offense—”
It was no use. She didn’t listen to me.
Leah drove her car out of that parking lot as fast as possible.
As Leah peeled away, I could have lingered, contemplating how things had gone south so quickly. But I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I just had to tell myself that I had gotten all of the information that I could and console myself with the knowledge that I had uncovered a few leads.
Chapter Nineteen
A collection of thin, wispy clouds leisurely made their way across the sky heading inland, almost giving off the impression that they were following me as I drove from central Treasure Cove to Hank Stewart’s apartment on the east side of town. It was as if the clouds were just passing through.
Looking up at the sky, I wasn’t sure if it was going to rain or if the sun would decide to make an appearance. The weather couldn’t seem to make up its mind. Was the indecisive sky mirroring what kind of a day it would be?
When I woke up that morning, I had fully expected it to rain. That was just a gut feeling of mine. It certainly wasn’t backed up by the weather forecast I had read. According to our local meteorologist, the chance of precipitation was only twenty percent. So why did I expect a soggy day? Because it always seemed to rain when I went to a funeral. As if Mother Nature took weather cues from how somber of an occasion was on the calendar that day. Thankfully, not a drop had fallen so far.
Turning my focus back to the road, I drove through the intersection of Oak Street and Spring Avenue. Oak Street was the line of demarcation between central Treasure Cover and the east side of town. Residences with manicured lawns gave way to houses with crabgrass out front. The east side was a place where warehouses and low-rent apartments were in ample supply. From a geographical standpoint, it made plenty of sense. The east side was the farthest possible place from the ocean, making leases and rents as cheap as could be.
The discouraging thing to me was just how little pride the residents took in keeping up their homes. There were plenty of rickety fences and junk that was left strewn across the lawn. Pride of ownership was completely absent.
I made a right turn onto Hickory Drive, were Hank’s single-story apartment complex was located. The place was a beige block of stucco with no character whatsoever. The building was as unattractive as the neighborhood it was located in. Then again, people didn’t live there because the place looked good. They resided there because the rent was dirt cheap. To me, the worst part was that the building was located directly next to a dive bar. Although perhaps some of the residents viewed that as a bonus.
As my car drew closer to Hank’s building, I was careful to hang back for a moment. I was on the lookout for David’s car. This upcoming suspect interview was already giving me enough stress without me having to worry about getting into a confrontation with David over investigating his case without his knowledge.
Luckily, I saw no sign of David’s car anywhere. What I did see was Hank standing in front of the dive bar next to his apartment building. Hank was taking a puff of a cigarette.
The mustached forty-eight-year-old had wrinkles on his face. Decades of heavy smoking made him look ten years older than he actually was. In addition, his affinity for booze had left him with a sizable beer belly. Hank was still wearing his suit from the funeral, but he had untucked his shirt and had taken his tie off.
As I parked in front of the bar, Hank put his cigarette out and went inside. That made for some lousy timing. Talking to him outside would have been far more preferable. This was not the kind of bar that looked very welcoming to women who didn’t drive motorcycles or have tattoos on every inch of their bodies.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know how long Hank would be in there. I couldn’t just wait around out front for him to come out. If I wanted answers, I would have to go in there and get them.
I took a moment to myself to muster all the resolve I could, then I went inside.
***
The clientele was exactly what I expected—rough around the edges, heavily inebriated, and all male. Day-drinkers were a unique breed. The type who threw caution to the wind and boldly embraced booze in the early afternoon. I couldn’t live like that.
Hank not only could—he did. He had already bellied up to the bar. A shaved-headed bartender with tattoos up and down his arms poured a drink for him.
Any attempt to fly under the radar was immediately lost when the bartender spotted me and gave me a bewildered look.
“You lost?” he asked.
Customer service was clearly not the bartender’s specialty. As the manager of a business myself, I knew the importance of encouraging new customers, not driving them away. That being said, I didn’t belabor the point. After all, I wasn’t there to give the bartender a lesson in manners.
If I had my choice, I wouldn’t have spoken to the bartender at all. Hank was the only reason I had set foot in that bar. I wanted to talk to him alone, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. Not just because I had caught the bartender’s attention, but also because Hank gave me the stink eye.
“No. I believe she came in here looking for trouble,” Hank said. He stared me down. “If you don’t leave, you’re going to find it.”
I couldn’t help but be discouraged. A threat was the worst possible way to start things off. I hated working from such a disadvantage. If I was going to get things back on track, I would need to find a way to claw myself out of this hole.
Hank clearly expected that he could intimidate me and make me slink away. I surprised him by holding my ground. To start, I knew he was bluffing. The man was a murder suspect. He would have to be a complete moron to start trouble in the middle of a public place like this with so many people around. Even so, I reached into my purse and made sure I had a finger on the can of pepper spray that I always carried around. If things did get out of hand, I would be ready.
After my sister’s disappearance, my mother had been adamant that I keep a can of pepper spray on me at all times. If that wasn’t enough protection for me, shortly after Jessica went missing, my mom signed me up for a self-defense class. I had never used any of the training that I had learned in the class, but it was good to have it under my belt. Deep down, I wanted to believe I was just worried for nothing. It was just good to know that if push came to shove, I could hold my own.
At the same time, I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure it didn’t come to that. If tensions escalated, I wouldn’t be able to get answers.
Before I replied, an idea came to me to defuse the tension.
I pulled two twenty-dollar bills out of my purse, slapped them on the bar, then yelled out, “The next round is on me!”
My declaration brought a rousing cheer from the barflies, who hooted and hollered with delight.
Even the bartender lightened up. He quickly grabbed the twenty-dollar bills from the bar top and flashed a smile at Hank. “I like her.”
Content that I had curried some favor in the bar, I turned my attention back to Hank, who looked frustrated.
“I just made some new friends,” I said. “I’m pretty sure trouble doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”
Hank gave me a sideways glance. “Slick move.”
Just because I had been able to win the rest of the bar over didn’t mean I was able to do the same with Hank. His mood didn’t thaw in the least. If anything, after seeing how savvy I was, he looked even more reticent to speak to me.
If I was going to get him to open up, I would need to try a different approach. I stated my case as plainly as I could. “I’m just here to talk.”
He stared down at the bar top. “I’m not in the mood for talking.”
“I can understand after what happened to your brother.”
Hank clammed up even more. “I really don’t have any interest in talking about that.”
Perhaps if I opened up to him, he would respond in kind. “I know what it’s like. My sister went missing ten years ago.”
The mention of my sister’s disappearance usually softened the hardest of personalities. Not Hank. He remained as stiff as ever.
Hank slapped the bar top. “How many different ways can I tell you that I have no interest in talking to you?”
He could say it as many times as he wanted. I wasn’t going to leave until I got the information I was looking for. Before desperation took hold of me, I made one more simple appeal to his emotions. “I’m just saying that we all want the same thing here—for Andrew’s killer to be brought to justice.”
“No!” he yelled. “What I want is for you to leave me alone.”
“I will—”
Hank took a deep breath as a look of relief came to his face. “Good.”
Unfortunately, he had jumped the gun. There had been more to my last statement. I finished my point. “Just one thing first.”
“No—”
I stared him down. “What were you arguing with your sister-in-law about in the parking lot this morning?”
Considering how combative he had been, I did not expect him to open up to me. If a lie came out of his mouth, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. More than anything, I had asked him the question to see how he would react to it.
Until that moment, he had not shown a single ounce of restraint. Somehow, he managed to muster some.
“That was family business,” he said.
He didn’t volunteer any further information, nor did he appear to be in any mood to elaborate.
“About how her husband fired you?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes. “You are really pushing it.”
I replied with a soft tone in my voice. “I just want to hear your side of the story.”
He stared daggers into my eyes. “You are poking your head around where it doesn’t belong. Keep doing that, and things will end badly for you.”
It would have been easy to let myself be intimidated by his threats. I knew it was important to hold strong. If I showed any sign of weakness, he would prey on it. No matter how much he tried to get me to tremble in fear, I couldn’t afford to play into his hand.
I looked at him with fierce resolve on my face. “I’ll bet the police would like to know about how you’d just been fired from the chocolate shop shortly before your brother’s murder.”
Hank snarled at me. “Are you threatening me?”
Before he went even further off the handle, I wanted to make my position clear.
I shook my head. “No. I just want to get your side of the story. You’re the one making this more difficult than it has to be.”
I could tell that he wanted to lash out at me, but he knew that doing so would only make me turn to the police. Instead, he mustered some restraint.
I continued. “Now, about you being fired—”
Hank threw up his hands. “How do you even know about that?”
“Who do you think told me?” I asked.
The gears spun in his head. “Leah threw me under the bus?”
I nodded.
Before I could get a word in, Hank threw the spotlight back on his sister-in-law. “If you’re looking for someone who had a reason to want my brother dead, Leah had no shortage of motive.”
“That may be true, but she has an alibi for the time of the murder.”
He fired back. “Not if her man-on-the-side lied for her.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Man-on-the-side?”
Hank snickered. “You didn’t know? Leah has been cheating on Andrew with Patrick Doherty.”
“Is that so?”
Hank nodded. “My brother told me about it.”
My eyes were as wide as saucers. “Wait. Your brother knew his wife was cheating on him?”
He nodded.
“And yet Andrew stayed with her?” I asked.
“My brother wasn’t exactly faithful, either.”
That wasn’t a new detail to me, but I didn’t dare to stop him. I didn’t mind hearing a little retread. I just wanted to keep him talking. If I could do that, there was no telling what else might slip out of his mouth.
“And Leah knew about Andrew’s infidelity?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” Hank said. “They both knew each other’s dirty laundry. They just didn’t like how I knew it. That’s why I was fired.”
That was an interesting theory, but it didn’t completely ring true to me.
“So you weren’t fired because you kept coming into work drunk?”
He shook his head. “That’s the excuse they went with. Really, they were just worried that if they kept me around any longer that the secrets I knew would blow up in their faces. It looks like they were right to worry.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Andrew’s dead now.”
“You’re convinced that Leah killed him?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“Do you have any proof of your claim?” I asked.
“All I know is that with Andrew dead, he was out of her life, allowing Leah to sell the business for a handy profit,” Hank said.
That thought had crossed my mind as well. The problem was, as suspicious as that made Leah look, it didn’t change the fact that she had an alibi for the time of the murder.
Despite Hank’s efforts to convince me otherwise, there was just as thick of a cloud of suspicion hanging over him. If that wasn’t enough, he had made no mention of an alibi.
Even though Hank clearly didn’t have any concrete evidence to give me, while I had him talking, I wanted to try to milk him for as much information as I could.
“What about Nathan? You two didn’t exactly seem to be on the best of terms,” I said.
“Are you asking if I think he could have killed his father?” Hank replied.
I nodded.
There was no hesitation in his voice. “Of course.”
My eyebrows arched. “What makes you so sure?”
“Nathan used to tee off on his old man.”
“About what?”
“He couldn’t believe that his father was cheating on his mom.”
I put my hand out on the bar top. “He knew his dad was cheating on Leah?”
Hank nodded. “He sure did. And he had no problems telling his father off about it.”
“Did he know his mother was cheating as well?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t matter to Nathan, anyway.”
“Why not?”
“The guy is a real mama’s boy. Leah can do no wrong in his eyes.”
I bit the corner of my lip. “That’s very interesting.”
While I was busy processing all of this new information, Hank tried to make an exit from the conversation.
“I answered your questions,” Hank said. “We’re done now.”
I stopped him. “Not so fast.”
Hank continued getting up from the bar. “I told you everything I know.”
“Yeah—about everyone else. You aren’t exactly above suspicion yourself,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes. “Andrew was my brother. How dare you accuse me of killing him?”
“True, he was your brother, but he also fired you.”
“That’s hardly a motive for murder.”
“What are you doing for work now?” I asked.
Hank hesitated before replying. “I’m between jobs.”
I gave him a critical stare. “Uh-huh. Now, with your brother’s death, chances are that you’ll have some inheritance money coming your way.”
He responded with bluster. “I don’t like where you’re going with that.”
“Are yo
u saying you weren’t in his will?”
Hank shot me a glare. “I’m saying that I didn’t do anything wrong.” He back stepped as he continued talking. “The police can’t prove anything, and neither can you. Now, I’m out of here.”
Unfortunately, there was nothing I could say to keep him there. So despite my best efforts, as Hank exited the bar, the interview came to an abrupt end.
Chapter Twenty
Nathan Stewart lived on the favorable side of Oak Street where the semi-industrial east side of town gave way to charming Victorian and Cape Cod-style houses. It felt good to cross back over to the good side of town.
The scenery was nicer in central Treasure Cove, but I wondered if the conversation would be just as tense with Nathan as it had been with Hank. I would find that out shortly as I parked in front of Nathan’s place. I was only eight blocks away from the dive bar that I had just questioned Hank in, but I felt like I was in a different world.
I stared at the Hawaiian-themed building with a row of palm trees lining the front of the complex and prepared myself for the worst while praying for the best. When Nathan opened the door to his apartment without giving me any trouble, it seemed like my prayer had been answered. The thirty-one-year-old had long black hair, a full beard, and a short, stocky frame. Most importantly, he appeared to be receptive to conversation.
That was certainly a relief after the hassle Hank had given me at the bar. Whether things would stay this placid was yet to be determined. My guess was that the answer would be no. That meant I had all the more reason to get as much information as possible before things went south.
Nathan and Hank’s dispute in the church parking lot had proven that they had plenty of differences. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they also had at least one thing in common as well. Their chosen way of coping with Andrew’s death was by turning to alcohol for comfort.
Nathan had a beer can in his hand as he spoke with me. Judging by the red look in his brown eyes, I didn’t think it was the first drink he’d had since arriving home from the funeral service. Typically, alcohol loosened a person up. Would that be the case here? Or was he inebriated to the point where he would end up lashing out at me? I knew that I had to walk a very fine line.
Daley Buzz Cozy Mystery Boxed Set Page 9
