by J C Fuller
“I heard Harry practically cracked Phil’s head open,” Lucas joined in, pushing his empty glass towards Gabe for a refill.
“Well, I heard it’s gonna be thirty bucks to fix his nice trophy,” Leslie added, and then asked with wide eyes. “You ARE going to pay to get his trophy fixed? Aren’t you, Phil? I mean, Harry was JUST trying to be a good sport.”
“Leslie! Order up!” a voice barked from behind the bar. “While it’s hot!”
Rolling her eyes with a huff, Leslie yelled over her shoulder as she stood up straight, causing the tale to rock back and forth, “Hold your britches, Derrick. I’m coming!” Then to Philip, “Well, you’re a good guy. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing. You’d be a real creep if you didn’t.” She then turned on her heels and casually tossed over her shoulder, “I’ll be back with your pitcher and a fresh glass in a second.”
“Thanks, Leslie,” Philip said flatly, and grabbed the ketchup smeared menu pinned down by the napkin dispenser. He gave it a quick once over, his facial expression turning disappointed. “I see the title of “Grill” on the menu of this place is purely for show,” Philip sighed. Nothing but deep-fried appetizers were offered and he’d been craving a cheese burger and beer all day, having spent the majority of it helping Brent with no luck.
“We got an order of fries coming if you want some.” Gabe hitched a thumb in Leslie’s direction, who was already making her way back to their table.
Philip watched as she expertly held the pitcher of beer in one hand and balanced the heaping plate of fries in the other. She also had a glass ketchup bottle tucked under one arm and a mustard squeeze bottle tucked under the other. Philip’s requested clean glass was securely clutched in her teeth.
Sloppily, she placed everything down with a loud clunk, resulting in foam spilling over the pitcher’s rim and a majority of the fries toppling off the side. With her hands free, she happily handed Philip his glass, her lipstick stain clearly visible.
“Just drink from the opposite side,” she said in response to his disgusted look, and took off her apron. “My shift is over, guys. You can leave my tip on the credit card receipt, okay? Night, fellas!” And with that, she made her way back behind the bar for her purse and headed out the back door.
“Here, Phil. I’ll get you a different one.” Lucas laughed and got up from the table, taking the lip-marked glass from Philip’s hand.
“Thanks, man,” Philip watched Lucas head for the bar and let his eyes lazily draw across the room. “So, you guys come here often?” Philip casually drew his eyes back to Gabe and watched as he started to pick up the spare fries off the table.
“Yeah, it’s sort of our hangout.” Gabe popped a fry into his mouth.
“I wouldn’t….” Philip tried to warn, doubting the cleanliness of the table. Failing, he asked genially, “So, how have things been?”
“Alright.”
“Just alright?” Philip asked jovially, sliding the ketchup bottle closer to Gabe. “That doesn’t sound very exciting.”
“It’s been a couple of tough days.” Gabe shot Philip a hard look, “As you can imagine.”
“Sorry.” Philip put his hands up in a helpless gesture. “That was a dumb thing for me to say.”
“It’s alright,” Gabe said quietly, before taking a deep breath, “So, …” his voice lightened. “Brent told me how you helped him out today.” He gave the bottom of the ketchup bottle a hard smack, before taking off the lid. “I invited him out tonight, but he didn’t feel up to it.”
“Yeah, I guess he was out there all day looking. He’s probably pretty tired.” Philip cleared his throat. “We…we uh, sure had an interesting conversation while we were searching.” Philip nervously drummed his fingers on the table. He was debating on how to move forward. He wasn’t as friendly with Gabe as he was with Lucas and didn’t quite know how to approach the young man.
“Gabe, what’s your opinion of Janie falling off the cliff?” He decided to be direct and just ask the question. He’d already put his foot in his mouth and it wouldn’t be long before Lucas came back with a clean glass. At the moment, the kid was happily chatting it up with the new barmaid on duty.
“I think it’s nonsense,” Gabe said bluntly, a large splatter of ketchup plopping down on the fry plate. “Brent says she was pretty distracted by the goats, moving around trying to get the right angle or whatnot, and must have lost her footing. I don’t buy it.”
“Why not?” Philip sat up straighter, intent on Gabe’s next words.
“Because Janie was a well-seasoned and travelled photographer. She’d seen mountain goats before. Heck, I was with her the first time she climbed Snakehead trail and spotted them a couple of years ago.” Gabe dragged a French fry through the tomato sauce. “Brent’s theory just doesn’t make sense.”
“What theory?” Lucas asked, sitting down and handing Philip a lipstick-free glass.
“That Janie was so wowed by the mountain goats, she wasn’t paying attention and lost her footing,” Gabe explained, his disgust still apparent even though he was talking through a full mouth of hot fries.
“Oh…well, I don’t know. They’re pretty cool animals and people don’t get to see them all that often. It’s not like seeing a cow or a horse in a field on the side of the road. I’m sure she was still pretty amazed by them.” Lucas had grabbed three small plates while fetching the extra glass and passed them one each, before piling his own plate full of fries.
“So, if she hadn’t been distracted, how do you think she fell?” Philip asked, doing his best to sound casual while pouring himself a glass from the new pitcher.
“She didn’t jump, if that’s what you are thinking,” Gabe said quickly, shooting Lucas an unforgiving look. “And she wasn’t repelling down either.”
“I only said it was a possibility,” Lucas countered. “If someone took the memory card, why is it so farfetched to think they might have taken her climbing gear?”
“Lucas, nobody throws somebody off a cliff, just to rob them of a lousy memory card and a few repelling ropes,” Gabe pointed out, frustrated with the suggestion. “Besides, if they were planning on robbing her, I would have thought they’d have taken the camera from her before throwing her off the cliff.”
Philip was starting to realize Lucas and Gabe’s friendship was based off of differing opinions and views, along with their ability to express an opposite view point. In a good forty years, future generations might find them sitting at Hattie’s picnic table, the modern-day version of Dub and Glen.
“Well, all I know for sure is Brent wasn’t the one to push her off,” Lucas said stubbornly, stuffing a fry into his mouth.
Philip glanced over at Gabe, waiting for his agreement, but was surprised to find the young man simply frowning down at his dwindling plate of fries.
“You’ve got a point there, Lucas,” Philip ventured, watching Gabe. “I mean, Brent doesn’t strike me as a homicidal murderer. Especially after diving into the water to save Danie last summer.”
“Practically suicidal,” Gabe grumbled, before taking a drink. “Could have broken his neck.”
“Won’t argue with you there,” Lucas agreed, his eyebrows raised in amazement, shaking his head in wonder. “That reminds me of the time…”
“You know, I still think about that day,” Philip spoke over Lucas, sensing the subject was about to be changed and wanting to keep it on Danie. “Brent said you were the one to alert everybody. How’d you spot her in the water?” Philip had directed his question to Lucas, but it was Gabe who responded.
“It wasn’t Lucas who saw her. It was Kevin.”
Philip tried to think back to his conversation with Kevin. If he was remembering right, he was pretty sure Kevin had said Gabe was the one who called everyone’s attention to Danie. Strange no one could remember exactly who.
“Really? I always thought it was you,” Lucas said, with some surprise. “At least, it sounded like you.”
Gabe shook his head, his lips
pursed together. “Nah, man. I was asleep in my tent.” He turned to Philip, “I had a killer headache, so I decided to lay down. Rest up for the evening bonfire.”
“Well, then how was it you were already in the water by the time I got there?” Lucas asked, as Philip deduced the two friends had never traded stories about that day.
“I heard Kevin running outside my tent and yelling about Danie. He was already at the point when I got there and I clambered down the rocks. Gave myself some good scratches on my arms and legs.” Gabe showed him a light scar by his elbow. “Started to wade out to her, when Brent came flying into the water.” Philip thought he heard a tone of anger in Gabe’s voice. If it was for himself or for Brent, Philip couldn’t tell.
“I don’t remember it the same way,” Lucas said distractedly, frowning in thought. “Janie was helping me put up my tent, when I heard who I thought was you, yelling Danie was drowning. We ran like hell and when I got there, you were already chest deep in the water and Kevin was running up behind us.”
“No, man! Kevin got there first, but you know how he is about heights. So, I climbed down and started my way out there. You’ve got it backwards.” Gabe gave his friend an annoyed look.
“Gabe, I don’t mean to be a jerk but you’re wrong. Trust me. I’ve thought of Danie’s last day a thousand times.”
“And you don’t think I haven’t?” Gabe’s voice turned fierce. “Don’t forget, Lucas. You weren’t the one who felt her life slip through your fingers.”
Lucas bowed his head in shame, not having anything to counter the comment. He took a quick drink of his beer and then guzzled the rest down, his cheeks red.
To Philip, it was obvious both men still held a torch for the dead girl. Though they had remained friends, he imagined they’d purposely never spoken about it. That is, until he’d brought it up.
“Well, you both can agree it was a man’s voice yelling about Danie drowning, right?” Philip decided he needed to get them back on even ground.
Both nodded their heads it was so.
“Did either of you know Janie was back on the island?” Philip pushed his empty plate back, having used his last French fry to wipe the plate clean, before popping it in his mouth and somewhat changing the subject.
Both men shook their heads. This time answering no.
“I wish I had. Hard to believe I missed her,” Gabe said, his tone quite mellow from a moment before. “I guess I was in the park around the time she was there. That is, according to Brent. I never saw her.”
“What about you, Lucas? Were you in the park?” Philip emptied his glass with a final swallow.
“No. I was at home playing video games.” Lucas gave Gabe a quick glance, before pushing back his chair from the table. “Should we get another pitcher?” he asked, standing up while pouring the last drop of beer from Philip’s pitcher into his glass.
“Yeah, think so,” Gabe smiled up at his friend, “and I believe it’s your turn to buy!”
“Count me out, guys.” Philip stood up, pushing in his chair. “I gotta be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning and this old man can’t hang like he used to.” He clapped Gabe on the back. “See you two at the memorial tomorrow?”
Both smiles dropped and the two young men nodded their heads yes.
Philip gave an apologetic smile, having ruined their returning good mood.
“Alright. See you, then. Have a good night.”
Chapter 29
Lane looked at her “Suspect List” in exasperation. The day before, it had been a clear, concise, and organized list of names. Now, names were scratched out, re-written, and then scratched out again. She ripped the offending page out and wrote at the top of the next, “Updated Suspect List” before adding a list of reorganized names below it.
“Who’s left?” Philip asked, blowing on his steaming cup of coffee, taking a seat on the end of Lane’s bed. It was his accustomed spot when visiting her small apartment, since there was only the one chair. He had come over to help her move, which was apparent by the state of her place. The room, normally clean and tidy, was currently dis-shoveled with packing peanuts on the floor, waded old newspapers, and several moving boxes stacked by the door.
Eying Lane, Philip covertly grabbed the discarded list off her makeshift dinner tray desk and gave it a once over. The name Sue Carter and Jim Evans had both been scratched out. It reasoned, since money was no longer a factor, the murder for hire theory was dead in the water and if that was so, then Jim Evans most likely was not paid to get Janie onto the island.
However, Lane started speculating. Even with all the money in the word, a business could go bankrupt and find itself in the red. Possibly Sue’s business was no longer profitable? She even wondered if Jim Evans, working from home, was still able to pay his bills as a struggling agent. Both names were dutifully put back on the list.
After a few discrete inquires, Sue was found to be as filthy rich as reported with her business lavishly in the green. As for Jim, his wife ended up being the bread winner of the family which allowed him to do his writing jobs on the side and give the new agent venture a try. Lane, unable to think of any other motive Sue or Jim might have, struck both names from the list once again.
Lucas Wilson’s name had two stars by it. One for being a potential stalker, according to Jim Evan’s wife. The other star was for stating he was at home playing video games the day Janie died, when according to Brent, he’d seen Lucas’s truck in the park that same morning.
Angie Bennett’s name had three stars. One for being on the camping trip the day Danie died. Lane argued just because she went for a hike, didn’t mean she really had. She could have snuck back into camp, found Danie at the point and pushed her off. The second star was for being jealous of Kevin flirting with Janie. And the last star, which was three times bigger, was for Angie owing Janie money.
Philip suddenly realized Lane was rating the suspects. The more stars, the stronger the suspect. Brent’s name had six stars and by far, was leading the pack. Philip didn’t believe Brent had the psychological make-up to be a murderer, but facts were facts. At his own admission, he had been the last person to see Janie alive. He’d gotten a lawyer, even if it was his own grandfather. He also refused to give his DNA, which was curious, since he’d already admitted he was there. On top of that, he’d neglected to share that he and Janie had been romantically involved, which made him all the more suspicious. And there was still the strange scene at the ranger station between Brent and his two pals. What would he have said to Deputy Pickens if given the chance? Not to mention, Philip had found him searching for the memory card. Which Lane immediately thought proved a guilty conscience, allowing for a very large star by his name.
This was until Philip said he’d volunteered to help and Brent had taken him up on his offer. Philip argued, if the boy had anything to hide on the memory card, he probably wouldn’t have allowed it or would have made an excuse to leave. Lane countered. She thought, since Brent pointed out where he wanted Philip to look, it was most likely because he knew where the memory card wasn’t.
Both Gabe and Kevin had only one star by their names, simply because both had been thought to be the first on the scene of Danie’s drowning. Lane thought it odd, no one could remember exactly who had called the alarm. She even wondered if Angie might have yelled out in a lowered-toned voice, running back into the woods, where she conveniently stayed till everyone left.
At the very bottom of the list was Amy’s name. A question mark and a very tiny star were placed beside it.
Philip crumpled the paper into a small ball and tossed it at the waste basket in the bathroom. He missed and it ricocheted off the door, landing in the open closet.
Lane arched an eyebrow as she flipped her notepad closed.
“I’ll get it,” Philip said, standing up from the bed and walking over to retrieve it. “Think we’re getting anywhere?”
“Well, I think after we speak with Angie and Amy, things might fall into p
lace a little better. Might be a good idea to split up Gabe and Lucas, see how they talk about Danie when the other guy isn’t around. Janie too, for that matter. Think you can take one, while I take the other at the funeral today?” Lane folded up the small TV tray she used as a makeshift desk and put it against the wall.
“I don’t know how I feel about questioning someone at a funeral,” Philip said, honestly. “It seems a bit…” He shrugged and gave Lane a grim smile, “disrespectful.”
Lane tossed a small stack of books into the last empty box, shaking her head at Philip’s comment. “Funerals are perfect for something like this. People are grieving, their emotions are high, and they have a tendency to want to reminisce. Share things they most likely wouldn’t in every day conversation. Half the time you don’t have to ask any questions, just be a shoulder for them to cry on. You can do that, can’t you, Phil?” Lane motioned for Philip to hand her the packing tape sitting on the nightstand.
“Well, if it’s just being a shoulder, then yeah. I can feel good about that.” He tossed it to her as he sat back down.
“I think you should take Lucas. You seem to have a good rapport with him.” Lane stretched the tape over the opening and sealed the box closed.
“I went to high school with his dad. He owns a couple of upscale spas in downtown Seattle. Invites me out onto his yacht every now and then for a cruise. Lucas usually tags along.”
“What about Gabe? What does his family do? Must be well off, if he’s going to UW in the medical field.” Lane hefted the box up and added it to the stack piled by the door.
“That the last one?” Philip asked, getting up from the bed.
“Yup.” Lane dusted her hands off on her jeans and gave the little apartment one last look to make sure she’d not forgotten anything. Philip grabbed the two top boxes and started to head out the door.
“He’s not, by the way,” Philip suddenly said, turning around to face her.
“What?” Lane closed the closet door, having pulled out two jackets and her old yellow rain parka, laying them across her arm.