The Fisher King, page 21
“How was Matt’s business doing?”
“Surprisingly well,” Michelle said. She crossed her legs and sipped her tea, clearly more comfortable on the subject of business. “When Matt came to me with the idea last year, I knew it would work. I saw it as a good opportunity to diversify, expand our business. Matt was a good businessman; I’ll give him that. Very forward thinking when he wanted to be. And also ruthless.”
“Matt?”
Michelle smiled. “Shocking, isn’t it? Have I mentioned he was also a hypocrite? Sitting in judgement of others when he wasn’t shy about stealing his best friend’s biggest customers.”
“Eric Sterry?”
She nodded. “Almost put Sterry out of business.”
“I had heard he stole a few customers.”
“They were Sterry’s biggest ones. I couldn’t believe Matt went after them. Like I said, he could be ruthless. He was always a hypocrite.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s say Matt had a narrow view of right and wrong. There were no shades of gray with him. No extenuating circumstances.”
“Did that cause problems with people?”
“It’s a pretty common viewpoint in this town, truth be told.”
“What about with you?”
She chuckled. “I couldn’t care less what Matt thought of me.”
Jack drummed his fingers on the table. “The first time I talked to him, your father connected the drug-related deaths to Matt and Amy. Why would he make that connection?”
“He’d just found his son dead. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking straight. He’s distraught.”
“Is he? He seemed more angry than distraught.”
“His son was murdered in cold blood.”
“It would make me angry, too. But not at the man investigating the crime.”
She leaned forward and whispered with a mischievous grin. “He doesn’t like you. He’s running for city council to get you fired.”
Jack leaned forward and mimicked Michelle. “I’m not afraid of your father.”
“He’ll be disappointed to hear it.”
Jack sat back and crossed his legs. “You on the other hand …”
“Me? But I’m just a woman. Why would you possibly be afraid of me?” Michelle said, mocking clear in her tone of voice.
“Powerful women are much more terrifying than men.”
“Do we emasculate you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She leaned forward again. “That’s our intention.”
“Walk me through where you went after the bonfire.”
Michelle inhaled and replied in a bored tone. “Chris drove me to my car at the truck yard. He took the smoker out to the country club.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the country club’s property.”
“Where did you go?”
“Home.”
“Anyone see you?”
“No. My kids were asleep.”
“How old are they?”
“Sixteen and eighteen.”
“And they were asleep at 1 a.m. on a Saturday night?”
“Their curfew is midnight.”
“What time did Chris get home?”
“I don’t know. I was asleep.”
“Or do you not know because he sleeps in the front bedroom?”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “I wondered if you noticed.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I didn’t.”
“True.” With a mischievous grin she said, “Off the record: I’m not a good bed partner. I sleep like the dead but I steal all the covers, and I snore.”
Jack mimed zipping his mouth. “Back on the record, did you see Chris yesterday morning?”
“No. He was gone by the time I woke up.”
“You have no idea if he came home Saturday night?”
Michelle shook her head. “He might have spent the night at the club.” Michelle sighed. “You’re wasting my time, McBride.”
“Kelly told Miner she saw Matt leave the neighborhood around 1 a.m. Did he come to the truck yard?”
The arm of the pool vacuum whipped up and sprayed water into the air. It resubmerged with a gurgle. Michelle crossed her arms and studied Jack. “If he did, I didn’t see him. I was at home in bed at one. Remember?”
“Which no one can vouch for.” Jack closed his notebook and stood. “Okay, Michelle. Thanks. As the case progresses, I may have some follow-up questions.”
“I hope they’re better than these were.”
Jack smiled tightly at Michelle. “Oh by the way, we finally found Kyle Grant. Picked him up in Yourkeville selling smack. I didn’t know y’all had branched out into heroin.”
“Y’all? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmm,” Jack said. “Well, regardless, you can take him off your legitimate business payroll.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Jack stuck his hand out and smiled at Michelle. “I’ll be in touch.”
She stood and shook his hand with a vice-like grip. “For the next few days, I will be the point man for the family. Any questions you have should come through me.”
“Funny, that’s exactly what Norman Davie told me this morning.”
Michelle laughed and released Jack’s hand. “Sure. Call Davie first. Make him feel important.”
“One more thing: do you own a gun?”
“A gun?” She laughed. “No. I hate guns. When we had kids, I made Chris get rid of his.”
“What kind did he have?”
“I don’t know. Hunting rifles, I think. I can’t tell one from the other and sure as hell don’t want to touch one.”
“Well, thanks again. The funeral is Wednesday?”
“Yes. Four o’clock. First Methodist.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll see myself out.”
Jack walked into the house. He shook a few hands and answered all questions about the case vaguely while keeping one eye on Michelle, who remained out by the pool. She was on her phone. Though her back was turned to the window, Jack could tell by the tension in her shoulders and the way she punched the air with her finger, his lie about Grant had shaken the tree. Now, to see what fell out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Miner stood in front of the rolling white board set up in Jack’s office and stared at the timeline he’d made. He tapped his lips with the Expo marker. Only three of the eleven people at the bonfire had airtight alibis—Jack, Julie, and Susan. Miner had talked to Kelly’s son, Seth, and confirmed Kelly walked in the door about 12:45, took the dog out, and was in her room by 1 a.m. Seth didn’t see her until morning, but considering Kelly had no motive to kill Matt or Amy, Miner considered her crossed off the list.
Ellie had no motive to kill Matt and Amy, but she was lying for Eddie McBride. The question was, why? They weren’t lovers, or Ellie would have been upset at the mention of Eddie and Michelle in the woods at the bonfire. Plus, she made a point to say he slept on the couch. They were friends, but was a six-week friendship enough for Ellie Yourke Martin, a woman known for honesty, to lie for an ex-felon who Miner was sure was up to his eyeballs in no good? Miner didn’t think so.
If Eddie wasn’t with Ellie, who was he with? Michelle? Possibly. ’Course, they’d had sex not two hours prior to the beginning of Eddie’s time gap. Surely they hadn’t met for an encore. Miner shook his head. Men liked to talk and brag about going all night, multiple times, but the reality was those men were the exception, especially when you got into your forties like Eddie. But he sure seemed like the type whose bragging might actually be more fact than fiction.
Miner looked at his watch. Jack would be here any minute to fill in information on Michelle and Chris. Starling was down the hall, typing up his notes from interviewing Eric Sterry in Tyler and the workers at Doyle Organics. Miner’s eyes kept sliding to Brian Grant and the huge gap in his timeline. He had motive, opportunity, a recently fired 9 mm, and a family history that made him the prime suspect. The problem was, Miner didn’t believe Brian Grant was a killer. He’d been involved in fights in the past, but never with a weapon. Not even a baseball bat. It’s a big leap from fistfights when drunk to killing two people in cold blood over a handshake contract. Brian might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. With Matt alive, he still had the possibility of a job. With Matt dead, he was the prime suspect.
“Miner.” Jack walked in, taking his coat off as he went. He draped it over the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. “Looks good,” he said about the whiteboard. “Michelle says she got home at 1 a.m. And didn’t leave. Kids were asleep and she didn’t see Chris.” Jack studied the whiteboard. “Nice timeline.”
“Thanks. Tammy Cole called. Taylor and Andy Ryan were busted at Cheyney’s Field at 1:30 a.m. Said she didn’t let them go till two-thirty. Gave them a warning, so my guess is Michelle doesn’t know.”
“I’ll talk to the kids tomorrow. See if they can pinpoint when their mother got home.”
Miner noted it on the whiteboard. “And Chris?”
“I didn’t have a chance to talk to him. He dropped Michelle off at the truck yard to get her car. She went home, he took the smoker to the country club. They sleep in separate bedrooms so she didn’t see him come in.”
“Or hear him.”
“Says he might have slept at the country club.”
“Hmm.”
Jack waved his finger at Ellie and Eddie’s timelines. “What’s this?”
“Well, Ellie and Eddie say they were together Saturday night, Sunday morning.”
“All night?”
“Yep. He didn’t come home?”
“No.”
“That normal?”
Jack jingled the keys and change in his pockets, brow furrowed. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve spent most nights in Yourkeville, reading Pollard’s journals.”
“You weren’t worried when he didn’t come home?”
“No.” Jack stepped forward and pointed at Eddie and Ellie’s timelines. “Why the question marks? You don’t believe them?”
“Nope. Ellie said they were at her apartment over the store. Eddie said they were at the lake house.”
“Ellie’s covering for him.”
Miner nodded.
“Are you looking at my brother for this?” Jack said.
Starling barreled into the office. “Got my notes typed up.” He dropped them on the conference table and caught sight of the timeline. He whistled. “Nice work, Miner.”
“Tell us about Eric Sterry,” Jack said.
“It was a waste of my afternoon, going down to Tyler. Eric Sterry is in the hospital. Fell off a ladder Saturday afternoon, compound fracture in his lower leg. He had steel rods put into his leg Sunday morning. He’s still hopped up on drugs. I talked to his wife. She hadn’t heard about Matt and Amy. Hadn’t read the Tyler paper, I guess. She confirmed Matt stole some clients from Sterry. Big ones, like they said. But she said Eric never took it personally. Apparently, the organic produce trade is dog eat dog.”
“Who knew?” Jack mumbled.
“I know, right? Anyway. I talked to some of the workers at Sterry’s company. Matt was well-liked. Not so much as a complaint about him. Total dead end.”
“Damn,” Miner said.
Starling studied the timeline for a moment and tapped on Michelle’s name. “That’s a lie.”
“What?” Miner said.
“Michelle’s car was at Doyle Industries at 2 a.m.”
“Are you sure?” Jack said.
Starling nodded. “I was coming home from,” he paused and blushed, “visiting a friend.”
“You sure of the time?” Miner asked.
“Yes.” Starling was so red, Miner didn’t have the heart to push him.
“Did you think it was odd her car was there in the middle of the night?”
“I’ve seen it there other times at night. Never thought much of it. Some people work late.”
“At two o’clock in the morning?” Jack said.
Starling chewed his bottom lip. “You’re right. I should have thought twice. It’s just.” His eyes darted to Miner and back to Jack. He inhaled and said, “I mentioned it once to Buck, the stuff that goes on out there at night. He told me not to worry. It was the nature of their business to get trucks in all times of the night.”
Miner stared at the toes of his boots and waited for the question. When nothing happened he looked up. Jack stared at him. “It’s one of the reasons I mentioned DI as the front,” Miner said.
“The front for what?” Starling asked.
Malik breezed into the office. “Token Mexican woman reporting for duty.”
Starling laughed and Miner grinned, despite himself.
Miner had been skeptical when Jack had hired a black man and a Hispanic woman for the force. He was worried he’d be walking around on eggshells, that Bishop and Malik would side-eye and judge his town on their old-fashioned ideals, but mainly he worried that he’d say something unintentionally offensive. So far he’d managed to keep his foot out of his mouth, but he knew he’d trip up eventually, as would the town. He’d spent more than a few hours alone with Jack Daniels in his barn, worrying over it. Stillwater wasn’t good with meeting its flaws head on. Truth be told, neither was he.
“Not funny,” Jack said, but Miner detected a repressed smile. “What’d you find out?”
“Nothing. Except all the Hispanics are taking note of how engaged you are with the rich white people murder versus the anonymous barbeque.”
“We need an ID to investigate fully.”
Malik raised her hand. “Preaching to the choir, Chief. I can tell you this much, none of the Mexicans think the Doyles’ murder was connected to their community. Matt Doyle employed a lot of Mexicans around here and none of them had a bad word to say. Sounded like a fucking saint. Excuse my language.”
“No one’s a saint,” Jack said. “Where’s Bishop?”
“Called about twenty minutes ago on his way to a domestic,” Miner said. “Said he’s got no news. Sounds pretty similar to what Malik said. No one in the Bottom knows anything, and they’re watching us closely.”
“Great.” Jack tapped Brian Grant’s timeline. “No alibi after Susan slams her hand in the car?”
“No. Paige confirmed Brian wasn’t home when they got back from the hospital at 4 a.m. She put Susan to bed and fell asleep. When she woke up at seven, Brian was in the kitchen, making pancakes.”
“Okay,” Jack said. “Good job, everyone. Go home and get some rest. Except you, Malik. Get to work.”
Malik executed a mock salute. “The mean streets await.”
“Night, Chief,” Starling said with a yawn.
“Miner, before you go. Did you get a Sunday alibi for Eddie?”
“He gave me a name and number but I haven’t called it yet.”
Jack put his jacket on. “Leave it on the desk. I’ll call it in the morning.”
Miner narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. Jack was skating close to unethical behavior.
“Feel free to call it, too. Night,” Jack said and left the office.
Miner furrowed his brow. Didn’t make much sense, but okay. He copied the name and number down and left it on Jack’s desk.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Something smells good.”
Ethan stopped typing on his phone and looked up. “Hey, Dad. You’re home.”
Jack draped his suit coat over the back of a kitchen chair and tossed his keys on the table. “And just in time, it smells like.”
Julie stood at the stove, a wooden spoon in her hand and a slow smile spreading across her face. She seemed genuinely happy to see him. Jack went to her and gave her a brief kiss. “What’s for dinner?”
“Turkey meatloaf,” Ethan said. Julie didn’t see Ethan fake gag for Jack’s benefit. Jack shook his head at Ethan. They hated turkey meatloaf and Julie knew it.
“And cauliflower mashed potatoes,” Julie added.
“Need any help?”
Julie paused before answering. “Sure. Grab the plates? Ethan get drinks for us, would you?”
Jack pulled three plates from the cabinet. “Is Eddie here?”
“No,” Julie said. “I thought you might know where he is.”
“No. I haven’t seen him since Saturday night.”
“Oh, he was here this morning,” Julie said, her voice falsely bright.
“You two still fighting?” Jack teased.
Julie laughed, but it sounded forced.
“How was your day, Ethan?”
Ethan stared at his mother’s back, his mouth curled in disgust.
“Ethan?”
Ethan shifted his focus to his father. “Fine.”
“Any tests?”
“No.”
“Any papers?”
“No.”
“What book are you reading in English?”
“To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Jack leaned against the counter and crossed his feet and arms. “In eighth grade?”
“Face it, Dad. Kids nowadays are smarter than you were.”
“Maybe, but I’ll always be smarter than you.”
“We’ll see,” Ethan said. He placed three glasses of water on the table, sat down, and stared at his phone again.
Jack forced himself to meet Julie’s gaze with a smile. “How was your day?”
“You know. Normal stuff. Made some progress on my book.”
“Did you?” From the corner of his eye, Jack saw Ethan look up. “How far along are you?”
“What book?” Ethan asked.
“Not far,” Julie answered Jack. “But it’s pretty fast going. Since it’s based on my blog posts …”
“You had a blog?” Ethan said.
Julie turned. “Yes, honey. I told you that.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t tell me about a book, either.”
It was the first Jack heard of the blog, too. He tried to mask the tension coiling inside him. No telling what she posted on her blog for the world to see. If there even was a blog. It was difficult to tell Julie’s lies from the truth these days.
“What’s the name of it?” Ethan asked, fingers poised on his phone.
