by Kathi Daley
“Okay,” he said after a minute. “What do you have?”
I explained the whole thing: how Frank couldn’t have been one of the two men the pizza delivery guy had seen upstairs, assuming the rest of the timeline was correct, and that the only thing that made sense to me was that it had been Tank, who had left the others to look for Train, and the stranded motorist, who no one other than Tank had ever actually seen and no one had admitted to seeing leave.
“You are absolutely correct,” Colt said, yawning. “If Billy did see the shadow of the two men in the upstairs bedroom after he delivered the pizzas, the only person who wouldn’t have been in the den with the others at that point was the one who went to find Train, which we have been told was Tank. The second person had to be someone other than one of the poker players, which very well might have been the stranded motorist.”
“If you really stop to think about it, Tank as the killer makes a lot of sense,” I continued, now that I was on a roll. “I didn’t want to believe that one brother would kill another, but the longer Molly and I have been sitting here thinking about it, the more certain we are that Tank has to be the killer we are looking for.”
“I know you’ve really thought this through, but my brain is still trying to wake up, so run me through this,” Colt said.
I took a deep breath and began my explanation. “Bob said that not everything Tank sells is legal. Assuming that is true, it seems possible to me that he may be selling his illegal goods out of his garage. I mean, did you see all the stuff he has in there? He has an entire store in town that seems to do well, so why wouldn’t he just store his excess inventory in a container closer to it if there wasn’t room inside? The only reason I can come up with for his garage being so cluttered with inventory would be if that inventory is actually items it would not be legal to sell through the sporting goods store.”
“So you think the boxes in the garage contain something like drugs or stolen inventory? Something he deals in on the side but needs to keep separate from his legal enterprise.”
“Exactly.” I nodded despite the fact that there wasn’t anyone there to see it.
“Okay, I’m following so far. Go on.”
I glanced out the window as the clouds strangled what was left of the moon. It appeared the snow was back in full force. “So what if the man who came to the door during the poker game wasn’t a stranded motorist after all?” I theorized. “What if he was a customer who showed up at the house to obtain whatever it is that Tank is selling out of his garage? Tank knows he can’t just bring the guy in and have him walk right past everyone in the den on his way to the back door, so he has him go around to the back through the side gate instead. Maybe he tells him he will meet him in the garage. Then he comes back into the den and rejoins the others. He tells them that the knock on the door was a motorist asking to use the phone. At about this time, Train tells everyone that because the game has been interrupted anyway, he is going out for a smoke, providing the perfect opportunity for Tank to suggest a longer break. Hank suggests ordering pizza. While the others are discussing toppings, Train gets out to the back porch and notices someone is in the garage.”
“So he goes to investigate, and whoever is there to buy whatever Tank is selling grabs him from behind and chokes him,” Colt jumped in.
I tucked my legs up under my body. “Tank comes out to the garage shortly after and finds Train either unconscious or already dead. My theory from there is that Tank might not know for sure whether Train is dead or simply passed out, so he comes up with the idea of stabbing him to be certain.”
Colt added, “At this point, Tank and his customer have to drag Train back onto the porch, so he’s where he’d told everyone he was going to smoke. Tank goes into the kitchen, gets a knife, and stabs his brother with it. Tank then goes back into the garage, gets the beer he told me he’d gone out for, and returns to the house.”
“That is exactly what I was thinking,” I agreed.
“The buyer must have gone inside the house for some reason,” Colt suggested. “Otherwise, instead of being upstairs for Billy to see, he would have just come back out to the street through the same side gate he’d gone in through.”
“Maybe Tank needed to give him something else,” I said. “Billy did say that one of the shadows he saw upstairs gave something to the other. Tank probably realized that the buyer wouldn’t be able to sneak through the house with people milling around, so perhaps he suggested that he go in via the deck stairway and wait upstairs in a guest bedroom until everyone had regrouped. Once everyone had, Tank told the men in the den that he was going to find Train, but what he was really doing was going upstairs to give the buyer whatever he needed to. Once the buyer has it, he goes back down the deck stairs and out through the gate before you and your people got there. Meanwhile, Tank returns to the poker players and tells them that Train was stabbed. The rest continues as we already know.”
“I need to get a look inside the boxes in Tank’s garage.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Thanks, Abby. This is a good theory. I’ll call you later to let you know what happens.”
I hung up the phone and walked into the living room, glancing out the front window. It was still pitch-dark, but Jeremy was already out working on the walkway between the inn and the cottage with the snowblower. I’d hit the jackpot when he’d wandered into my life. Not only was he great with the guests and a good friend I could confide in, but he was one of the hardest workers I had ever come across.
As I stood looking out the window at the falling snow and the young man who was trying so hard to stay out in front of it, I heard the shower go on in Georgia’s bathroom. I figured she’d want to head over to the inn early to get everything ready for the guests, so I went back into my bedroom and pulled on the warmest clothing I could find, then filled a tall travel mug with piping hot coffee and went out into the storm.
“You read my mind,” Jeremy said when I handed him the mug.
“It’s freezing out here. You must feel like a Popsicle.”
“Close. Although with the depth of the snow, the amount of energy required to clear the walkway has been significant, so the workout is actually keeping me fairly warm.”
“When you finish the walkway, come in for a break. Have some more coffee and breakfast before you tackle the drive.”
“Thanks. I could use a break. I do want to get the pathway finished first so Georgia can move easily between the two buildings.”
I thanked Jeremy again for being so conscientious then went back into the cottage. I poured what was left of the coffee into my own mug, and then started a new pot. The shower went off in Georgia’s room. The coffee ought to be done just about when she emerged.
Most mornings, it was Georgia greeting me with coffee. It felt good to have the roles reversed for once. I thought about gathering the supplies she’d need to make breakfast for the guests, but I had no idea what she’d planned for breakfast or whether any of the items she needed to make it with were here in the cottage. I’d just feed the animals and wait for her to come out. When she did, I’d take the dogs for a very quick walk while she got breakfast underway.
“Morning.” I greeted Georgia with a mugful of coffee with a splash of cream when she came through her bedroom door.
“Thank you so much. You sure are bright and sunny this morning. What has you up so early?”
“Actually, I’ve been up for quite a while, so I’ve had time to wake up fully.”
She took a sip of the coffee. “Something on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking about Train’s murder and the odd set of circumstances surrounding it. I think I may have figured a few things out. I guess time will tell. If you want to get whatever you need to go next door together, I’ll take the dogs out, and then we can both head over. I’ll tell you all about my theory while we make breakfast.”
“Sounds good. I really only need a few things from the cottage this morning. I have fresh cinna
mon rolls in the pantry at the inn that are all ready to heat and serve, and I thought I’d make an egg and cheese casserole to go with it. I also plan to prepare bacon and sausage to have on the side, along with toast for anyone who isn’t into the sweet rolls, and fruit of course.”
“Sounds wonderful, but as always, that sounds like a lot of food for eleven people.”
“I always make use of the leftovers, and there haven’t been as many as you might think. The guests we have this week have been a hungry bunch. I think it is the storm and the isolation. Normally, our guests go into town for at least some of their meals, but this group has been stuck at the inn the entire time they’ve been here.”
“It is the nature of the retreat to stay to work on their writing, but I’m sure the storm has something to do with it. I’ll tell you all about the theory that has been keeping me up for the past few hours while we walk over.”
Chapter 17
When Colt called later that morning and informed me that he had found nothing illegal in Tank’s garage, I was disappointed. I was so sure I was on to something. Of course, Tank had had plenty of time to remove any illegal inventory he might have had there. He must have known that the police would come snooping around again. Colt didn’t mention that the garage had been searched on the night Train died, but Tank couldn’t have known it wouldn’t be.
“The garbage,” I said after a pause in our conversation. “Tank said he was looking for whatever had made the noise he heard when he noticed the garbage and put it out. Tank told you that he realized the next day was trash day. What if what he really put in the alley were the boxes that contained the illegal inventory? Maybe the thing he gave to the man upstairs was a key to a storage unit or similar warehouse or storage facility. Maybe the man who’d come by agreed to move the illegal inventory so that it wouldn’t be on Tank’s property for the cops to find when they inevitably arrived.”
“It would be easy enough to check out his garbage story,” Colt commented. “I can call the refuse company and get the pickup schedule, but even if everything you said is true, I still need to prove that Tank had illegal inventory in the first place. Whether he did or did not have it then, he doesn’t have it now.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It is going to be tough to prove that Tank had something he no longer has.”
“And even if I can prove that he had illegal inventory in the garage at some time, that doesn’t mean he killed or was in on the killing of Train. Even if the schedule proves that the day following the poker game was not garbage day, Tank could just say he got his days mixed up, and I wouldn’t be able to prove otherwise. I need more.”
“Yeah.” I huffed out a breath. “All we have is a theory. You need physical evidence, or maybe a witness. And if Tank did move the inventory to a storage unit, figuring out where it is would be good.”
“I’ll do a search to see if I can find out if Tank or his company owns or rents a warehouse or storage facility.”
“It was late when all of this went down, but if the boxes of drugs or other illegal inventory had been put out into the alley, as we suspect, maybe the neighbor behind or on either side of Tank’s house noticed something,” I offered.
“It was dark and snowing, so I doubt it, but I’ll interview them again,” Colt assured me. “I’ll call you later. The snow is supposed to let up for a few days, so hopefully, you will have time to dig out before your guests check out tomorrow.”
“Hopefully. The driveway is totally impassible right now, but Jeremy will get it cleared by the end of the day.”
I hung up, bundled up, and went out to see if Jeremy needed any help. I couldn’t drive the plow, but I’d become proficient with the snowblower. The sun had actually peeked out from behind the clouds, creating diamondlike reflections on the fluffy white snow. Colt had said that the forecast had called for clearing over the next several days. I certainly hoped that was accurate. As far as I was concerned, we had had plenty of snow and could really use some bright, sunny days.
When I’d first moved to Holiday Bay, I’d hated having to run the snowblower, but since then, I’d actually learned to enjoy the activity. In moderation. I’d discovered that being outdoors blowing snow could provide a Zenlike experience if one took time to simply enjoy the beauty of the bluff while pushing one’s muscles to their limit as the huge snow-eating machine tossed an archway of snow from the path in front of you onto the banks on either side.
Of course, an hour out in the elements was about all I could take. After that, the peace and serenity the activity brought were replaced with the demands of screaming muscles and frozen toes. When I’d had my fill of calming seas, serene waves, and snowy shores, I headed inside for coffee and a warm fire.
Now, as I sat staring into the flames, I wondered how the authors were doing today. I’d called Kate yesterday to ask about Piper’s book. She hadn’t been in, so I’d left a message. She’d called me back while I’d been outside playing king of the snow with the blower. Rather than asking me to call her in turn, she’d left a message. “I see Piper’s story has engaged you. I’m not surprised. The girl can certainly spin a tale. As per your question about whether the book is written from the perspective of personal experience, she isn’t sharing that, but in my opinion, the raw emotion and attention to detail seem to point in that direction. In the beginning, I, like you, felt a need to know the backstory, but in the months I’ve worked with Piper, I’ve come to realize that she is the sort to share what she wants when she wants and trying to force the issue will get you nowhere. I should have advance reader copies in a couple of months. I will be sure to send you one, and you can come to your own conclusion as to whether the book is based on fact or fiction.”
Well, that was disappointing, but the fact that Piper was being so secretive added to the mystery. I had a feeling Piper was going to have a best seller on her hands.
After I listened to Kate’s message, I sent her a quick text thanking her for getting back to me. Then I logged onto my computer. My toes were still pretty icy, so I took my laptop to the sofa in front of the fire and pulled the fleecy throw over my lap. I’d just finished answering my emails when Velma called.
“Hey, Velma. Are you open today?”
“Yeah, I opened, but I figure there won’t be much business with all the snow. Still, I needed to do an inventory, so I decided to tackle that while I waited for any customers who might dig out and come in for a bite to eat. Listen, you haven’t talked to Colt this morning, have you?”
“Yes, actually, I have. Are you looking for him?”
“I might have picked up something connected with his investigation and wanted to share it with him, but when I called down to his office, the phone was answered by the central dispatcher. I guess Peach didn’t make it in.”
Peach was Colt’s receptionist. The Holiday Bay office was a small one, with just Colt and two deputies in training, so when Peach wasn’t working, the phones were forwarded to the central dispatch.
“Did you try his cell?” I asked.
“I did, and my call went to voice mail. I hated to leave a detailed message, so I just asked him to call me. I guess he must be out investigating.”
“He did have plans to check out some storage facilities owned or rented by one of the suspects. What did you want to tell him? I can pass the message along if he calls me back.”
“Just tell him that I spoke to Helen Riverside. She lives on the street directly north of the one Tank lives on, so the two share an alley. She told me that her husband had his bowling league on Wednesday night, and when he came home around eleven-thirty, he could barely get down the alley to their place because of the stacks and stacks of boxes piled up behind Tank’s house. He said the boxes were gone when he went to work the next morning, so Tank or someone else must have moved them, but the night before, they were a real nuisance.”
“Could he have put them out for the garbage collector?” I asked.
“I asked Helen that and she said the garbage
crew comes on Mondays. She didn’t know why the boxes were in the alley or who moved them, but she thought Tank might have received a delivery and moved them inside after Helen’s husband had passed by.”
“I think it was more likely the other way around, and he was moving stuff out of his garage, but this information helps a bunch. It actually sort of proves a theory I had. Well, maybe it doesn’t prove the whole theory, but part of it.” I went on to share my idea with Velma. Colt had trusted her enough to tell her everything he knew when we’d stopped in for breakfast on Friday, so I figured I could trust her as well.
“Wow, that does make sense,” she said when I had finished filling her in. “I’m glad I could help. I assume if Colt calls you or stops by, you’ll tell him what I heard from Helen.”
“I absolutely will. And thanks for calling. I’m sure Colt will be excited about this piece of news.”
And he was. He called me about an hour after I’d spoken to Velma, and when I passed on her news, he said he would head over to speak to Helen and her husband directly. Before he did, though, he shared that he’d spoken to the medical examiner, and he confirmed that a cause of death by a chokehold followed by a knife to the chest after Train was already dead fit the evidence provided by the body in his morgue perfectly.
Colt had also learned that Tank had rented a storage unit in Portland the day after the death of his brother, and he called to have the Portland PD check it out. He was fairly certain that by the end of the day, Tank would be behind bars for possession of illegal goods, even if those goods did not in and of themselves prove he was the one who’d killed Train.
