A Time To Kiln

by Gilian Baker

  I wrote all possible motives beside Dillon’s name and then moved onto the next best suspect—Charley Hesston. Though Ross and Crystal seemed to believe he was out of the picture, I wasn’t so sure. He could have been at a pottery show, sure. That would work for the receipts. But if his buddies were good friends, they would lie for him, wouldn’t they? I didn’t have all the answers yet, but I wasn’t taking him off my list. After all, Ross had been way off base before, and he could be again.

  I jotted down all the particulars I had on Charley. Shoot. Dillon still made a better suspect. Who else could I add? The women from pottery class, specifically Betty, though I didn’t know what motive she’d have for Jack. It seemed Jack and her husband Roger, were chummy.

  What about Roger? Based on how he’d ogled her that day in the tea shop, he’d clearly had a thing for Paula. Could The Hair Hut gossips be right—that it was Roger, not Jack, Paula had been seeing? Could Roger have been pushed to murder if he’d caught her with Jack? It didn’t seem that likely, but I didn’t have many suspects, so I added his name to the list.

  I made a note to talk to Dillon’s parents to find out what he had against Jack. I also thought I’d check out Betty and Roger, as well as the other students in my class. I jotted all of their names down on my follow-up list.

  What I really needed was someone to fill me in on who Jack Bristol had screwed over, both literally and figuratively. That would add to my suspect pool. Though maybe not for Paula’s murder. How were we ever going to substantiate if the affair was just a rumor or not? I chewed on a nail as I thought.

  Oh! I’d planned on talking to Sheryl Buccanon. She could at least give me the juiciest rumors to point me in the right direction. Rumors usually have some aspect of truth to them, don’t they? Well, maybe not, but it was better than nothing.

  I reached down to get my phone out of my purse and caught a glimpse of a flower-patterned apron. I gasped and swung around in my chair. Right behind me, close enough to touch, stood Shelly. How had I not noticed her behind me? I frowned, questioning how long she’d been standing there. Had she seen the notes I’d made about motives and suspects?

  “Shelly, you gave me a fright. What are you doing standing there behind me?”

  “I just came to see if you needed anything else, Mrs. Blackwell. I’m getting ready to go off shift and wanted to check on you before I did.”

  “Thanks, but I’m ready for my bill.”

  On a whim, I ordered a latte for Sheryl before I left. I didn’t see it as a backhander, just a neighborly thing to do. Could I help it if I happened to get information from her on the day I brought her a coffee?

  While I waited for some unknown person in the back to make the latte, I took the opportunity to ask Shelly some questions. Maybe I’d figure out if she’d seen my notes too.

  “So, Shelly, I do have a couple of questions for you.”

  She stuck her bottom lip under her front teeth and nodded her head.

  “You seem to know Dillon pretty well. Had you noticed anything unusual in his behavior before Paula’s murder?”

  “No, not really. He was in here some, getting coffee for her.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t imagine what he saw in her.”

  “Well, she was the mother of his child.”

  “Yeah, but still. That doesn’t mean he loved her or anything.”

  “No, I suppose not. Have you heard rumors about Paula having an affair? Or maybe you saw something while working here?”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors, and they wouldn’t surprise me a bit. She was simple white trash. She didn’t deserve a kind-hearted guy like Dillon. And that little girl…” She tutted and went on, “she’s so adorable. Paula wasn’t a good mom. She was never around. She had Dillon working night and day while she played in the mud. All she ever cared about was her stupid pottery.”

  “You know, she was building a business that could have become profitable. A lot of couples do that—one works full-time while the other goes to college or starts a business. It’s not unheard of for the man to be home with his children during the day.”

  “Well, I just don’t think it was right. It’s not the way things are done around here. He was run ragged, poor thing.” She made a pouty face at me.

  “Did you ever see anything that made you believe the rumors were true?”

  “Not for sure exactly, but she was the biggest flirt I’d ever seen. She had the guys in here falling all over her. And why didn’t she brew her own coffee? She was in here a couple times a day at least. She just wasted money Dillon slaved for.” She stamped her foot as her face turned red. “It was just so unfair.”

  I knew she wouldn’t be totally objective, but she had such blinders on, I wasn’t sure if she could help at all.

  “Thanks, Shelly. I appreciate you answering my questions.”

  “I’ll help in any way I can. I’m so worried about him I can’t think of anything else,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Would you be willing to help me further if I have other questions? You’re in such a good position to know what’s going on around the town.”

  With a firm nod, she said, “Just ask me anything, anytime. Here, let me give you my info.” She wrote down her contact information.

  As she handed me the slip of paper, a little bell signaled my coffee order was ready.

  ***

  Sheryl was on the phone when I walked in. I held up the Styrofoam cup of coffee, and she put her hands together as if in prayer and mouthed a thank you.

  She’d barely put down the receiver when she said, “Oh, you must be psychic. I’ve been desperate for a good coffee all day. Doug made some earlier that you could stand a spoon in.” She took a long sip. “Aww. A latte. How thoughtful of you, Jade.”

  “Looks like things are quiet right now. Mind if I come back and ask you a few questions?”

  “Oh, sure. I did hear tell you were back to workin' with Gabby. You guys are helpin’ out Dillon, huh?”

  “Trying to, yeah.” She unlocked the door to her station with a buzz.

  “Have a seat. Didn’t you get a coffee for yourself? Oh, don’t tell me this was yours.”

  I laughed lightly. “No. I just had about a gallon of iced tea over at T & S. I was headed over here and something told me you could use a cup.”

  She took another sip. “Told ya you were psychic. Now, what can I do ya for?"

  “I know Ross has heard the rumors about Paula having an affair, but I was wondering what you’d heard. Ross is hardly likely to hear the latest, now is he?” I gave her a conspiring wink.

  “I’d say not. Most folks don’t want to tell the sheriff the scuttlebutt.”

  “What have you heard? Or maybe you saw something?”

  “Well…” She drew the word out, making it seem she was trying to decide whether she should say anything or not. As if.

  “When she first got to town, I did see her quite a bit with Jack Bristol. But that coulda been because he was helping her find a studio. I’d also heard some rumblings about her and Roger Gaber, but I don’t think there’s anything to ‘em. The person who whispered it to me seemed to have nothing to back it up.”

  Hm. Interesting. Maybe Sheryl did have criteria in which she measured the accuracy of the gossip she collected.

  “So what do you think? Is there anything to the rumors?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say yes. Did you ever see her around men? It was embarrassin’. She’d even behave that way right in front of her husband. Poor Dillon. I don’t know how he put up with the shrew.”

  Maybe he decided not to anymore.

  “But could it be that’s all it was? Just flirting? Some people are notorious teases, but that’s as far as it ever goes.”

  “Sure, I guess. She was young and pretty, maybe she felt tied down with a child and husband she hadn’t planned on and decided to have a little fun. Lord knows the bloom don’t stay long on the rose, so she coulda been enjoying other men’s attentions wh
ile she had them.”

  That didn’t help me a heck of a lot. If Sheryl didn’t know if there’d been an affair, no one did.

  “Let me ask you something else then. Who had major problems with Jack Bristol?” I held up my hands before going on. “Now I know practically everyone who’d ever met the man had something against him, but I’m talking murder. Who had a real motive for killing him?”

  “Well…Natalie Fisher threatened to kill him once, and I’d say she meant it. Seems she was taken advantage of by Jack when her husband died, and she moved here. According to her, not only did he lie about the property she bought, but he took advantage of her vulnerability and seduced her. When she was in deep and thought she’d found someone to take her husband’s place, he dumped her like a sack of potatoes.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard stories like that more than once about Jack, and none of them surprised me a bit.” I tapped my nails against the desk I was leaning against.

  Sheryl enjoyed more of her brew, giving a little sigh of contentment after each sip. I’d have to remember that T & S lattes were her kryptonite. Who knew when I’d need her intel in the future?

  “Did you know Natalie was also in the pottery class? Could she have had something against Paula too?”

  “Yes, I knew. Remember how you all went parading through here to be interviewed after Paula’s murder? But no, I haven’t heard anything about her and Paula. She’s just a tiny little thing too. Would she have the strength to kill two people that way?”

  “If she took them by surprise, maybe. I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure out who had something against both of them. They have to be linked. I mean, two murders in Aspen Falls, a week apart?”

  “That’s what we all think here too…” She let the sentence trail off, but I knew what she was thinking.

  “But you all think Dillon did it since he had a clear link to both of them.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, but yes. Don’t forget he also fits the description of the killer, right down to the size eleven tennis shoes.”

  “How do you know what size shoes the killer wear?”

  “He left prints in the dust on the floor. He mighta planned on getting rid of them before he left, but Homer made sure that didn’t happen.” She tossed her empty coffee cup in the trashcan with a thud.

  “Oh. So what did Dillon have against Jack? I mean, specifically?”

  “I don’t know the details, but there was bad blood between all the Hexbys and Jack. Some land deal gone sour is all I know.”

  I stood up to leave. The clock on the wall told me it was time to go talk to Tyler, before heading home to check on supper.

  ***

  The door of Tyler’s trailer was open to let in the breeze. I could see him sitting in front of the TV watching what sounded like a rousing WFF match and drinking a beer when I knocked. Should I tell him the matches were staged? Probably not.

  I didn’t know him well, but everyone in town knew everyone else on sight. He ambled over to the door and opened the screen to let me in. It was a bachelor pad alright. There were clothes, mail and old flyers on every surface, including the floor. The tiny kitchen sink was filled to the tippy-top with dirty dishes and a stained, mostly empty pizza box was enough to fill up the limited counter space. You’d think in such a small space, he’d want to keep it neater.

  I took a sniff. He could use some air freshener too. Before I could put a name to the stench, a mangy-looking dog came ambling out of a back room. It woofed at me half-heartedly, munched on a pizza crust that had fallen on the floor and then dropped on its belly. Isn’t it interesting how people and their pets so often resemble one another?

  “May I sit down, Tyler? I assume you know who I am and why I’m here.”

  “Yep. But I’ve already told the deputy all I know.”

  “Well, being such a good friend of Dillon’s, I thought you wouldn’t mind the imposition. He is facing double homicide charges if we can’t pin down his alibi.” Jeez. Who needed a friend who was bothered by someone asking questions to clear your name of murder?

  He dropped down into an ancient recliner that threatened to give way. His scrawny frame made it sway slightly, and I relaxed a bit knowing I wouldn’t have to help him up off the floor and maybe to the ER.

  He hadn’t even bothered clearing off a place for me to sit. I picked up a pile of dirty clothes off an old kitchen chair he used as a guest chair and looking around. Not seeing a better place to put them, I added them to the pile on the floor.

  “I was told Paula dropped Dillon off here the night of her death so she could have the car. Is that correct?”

  He picked his cheap beer can off the metal TV tray he used as a side table and took a swig. “Yep.”

  “Around what time was that?”

  “I dunno. Maybe quarter to nine. We hung out here playing video games until it was ‘bout time to leave for work.”

  “Okay. Good. So what time did you leave? And did you go straight there or did you stop off anywhere?”

  “I stopped off at the Chevron station to pick up a cold six pack. Then I dropped Dill off on some side street on the way outta town. I went on to work.”

  “Where did Dillon go? Why did you drop him off?”

  “I dunno. I didn’t ask. He's a grown man. I dropped him there ‘cause that’s what he asked me to do.”

  This guy was a real fount of knowledge. “Was this the first time you’d dropped him there instead of taking him with you to work?”

  He took another sip of beer. “Nope.” He crushed the can and placed it beside the others on the TV tray.

  How many beers did he usually have before going to work with heavy machinery? If he’d picked up a cold six-pack on the way to work…. I shook my head to clear it. That was beside the point.

  “How often would you say this had happened? When you’d dropped him off and clocked him in at work? And didn’t the foreman ever realize he wasn’t there?”

  He laughed. “That foreman don’t do nothing but sit on his butt all night playin’ the ponies online. Other guys probably noticed, but we don’t share nothing with the management. They don’t pay us to think, you can trust me on that.”

  I had no doubt. I needed to find out what they manufactured at that plant to make sure we never purchased any of their products. Who knew how safely they were constructed?

  He shuffled to the dinky refrigerator and grabbed another beer. He held one out to me with a raised eyebrow. I shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders and shut the door, popped the top and sucked down half of it before answering my other question, which I was surprised he remembered.

  “I dunno. Probably dropped him there most every time his old lady dropped him off here for the last…five months or so.”

  What could he be up to? Could he have been going to the studio to spy on Paula?

  I thanked Tyler for his time and made my way to the door. Once in the car, I grabbed the bottle of hand sanitizer I kept in my purse, rubbed it in with a vengeance, and then jotted down a few notes from the interview. I blew out a big breath, causing my bangs to fly up.

  The Subaru’s check engine light flashed on just after I maneuvered the tight three-point turn necessary to get out of the minuscule driveway. Great. When it rains it pours. Making a mental note to get an appointment with our mechanic, I drove home ruminating about my growing distress regarding Dillon’s guilt.

  Unless he came clean, it was my opinion we should stop representing him, but I wasn’t sure if Gabby would be willing to give up the one intriguing case in her otherwise dull practice. Nevertheless, could we continue to work for someone we believed guilty of the crimes we were trying to absolve them of? Everyone deserved a defense, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to help the guilty go free.

  Pulling into our driveway, I determined it was time to see if Ellie would divulge anything Dillon had told her in confidence, now the stakes were rising. Unless we got some good news soon, Dillon was going to be behind bars w
ithout the support of the Blackwell’s.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ellie woke up late the next morning and rushed out the door, saying she couldn’t talk right now, even if it was about Dillon. I asked her to come straight home from work, not scuttle off to Dillon’s house as she had been most nights, because I didn’t want to have to wait up for her. The real reason was less innocuous—I wanted to know she was safe at home with us instead of hanging out with the number one suspect.

  Preparing to meet Gabby that morning, I compiled my notes. As I read through them, I swiveled in my office chair contemplating. I needed to talk to Charley Hesston. It was possible I’d be able to convince him to tell me something he hadn’t told Ross.

  One of the reasons Gabby had asked me to be the investigator on Liz’s case was my attention to detail and the way I could see through the malarkey people tried to sell. All those years as an academic had given me an accurate BS meter. Students notoriously believed their professors were gullible enough to buy all kinds of baloney. We weren’t, and we didn’t, yet they kept on trying.

  Whether we were able to get an audience with Charley or not, if we were to continue representing Dillon, we needed to prepare for the inevitable—Ross was going to arrest him eventually.

  Thinking of Ross made me wonder why we hadn’t known before that Dillon’s alibi for the night of his wife’s death was full of holes. The sheriff had been holding out on us. Sure, he wasn’t required to tell us anything at this point, since discovery wasn’t required until the suspect had been charged with the crime. But I’d like to think we were all in this together, trying to keep our little part of the world safe.

  When compiling my notes, I’d come across an old envelope inscribed with questions about plausible connections to Paula’s murder and the studio. I hadn’t taken the idea of a student killing Paula seriously, believing a man committed the crime, but maybe I should have. Now I needed to add Jack into the equation too. Were there students who had a grudge against him? Since they were all female, it was likely.