“Oh, is that what you’re calling this circus act?” That was so much harsher than I intended. Too late. “If it wasn’t for my amateur investigation you never would’ve found this guy.” I point to Jackson and narrow my gaze. “And by the looks of him he’s hiding something.”
Sheriff Erick steps closer to me.
My skin tingles.
“I’m warning you, Moon.”
“Oh, everyone is full of warnings today.” I wave it away with a flick of my wrist. “I’ll have Silas pick up a copy of Jackson’s statement this afternoon.”
I hook my arm through my dad’s elbow and walk toward the door. I throw one last comment over my shoulder. “And, you’re welcome.”
Dad heads off to meet with Cal’s attorney to see if he can get to the bottom of the will-changing rumor and I wander back to the bookshop.
I learn from the empty establishment and a close inspection of the sign in the window that we’re closed on Mondays. I walk upstairs and plunk down next to the file boxes.
Things are still a mess from the sleepover, so I go through my stacks and organize the reports and other documents as I pack the lot back into the cardboard containers. I’ll see if Twiggy wants to return them tomorrow.
My hands linger on the security guard’s statement. Something is off. Why is he the only witness who claims to have heard the third shot?
Grams drifts down next to me with a pleading look on her face and an overall “depleted” appearance.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
She flashes back to technicolor. “I know you didn’t say it out loud, dear, but why don’t you see if you can track that guard down and ask him yourself?”
I channel Kitty for a second. “Brilliant!”
I brush my teeth, and apply an extra layer of flirty mascara to make my eyelashes pop and some fresh lip tint.
“That should do the trick.” Grams winks. “What man could say ‘no’ to that face?”
“Sheriff Erick, for one,” I reply bitterly.
“Oh don’t you fret. He’ll come around.”
“Wish me luck.” I grab the keys to the Mercedes and head off toward the larger town to the north, Broken Rock. That town was desperate for the tax revenues and allowed the big box store that Pin Cherry Harbor had refused.
The address on the coffee-stained witness statement is over fifteen years old, but I have to start somewhere.
The drive through Black Cap Trail and Pancake Bay, along the coast of the magnificently massive body of fresh water, loosens some of the knots in my neck.
Most of the bravado I throw down in front of Sheriff Erick is for show. Deep down I’m still a little terrified that my dad or I could wind up taking the rap for Cal’s murder.
Near the outskirts of Broken Rock, I speak the address into the map app on my phone. I paid off my past due bill and the exorbitant re-activation fee, but at least I have a phone now.
Look at me, “adulting” like an— Well, you get the idea.
“You have arrived at your destination,” announces the helpful phone.
I check the house number against the old police report. Yep, I have arrived.
I scope my makeup in the rearview mirror and press my lips together to even out the color. All right, let’s go get the truth.
I open the small gate, close it quietly behind, and make my way up the old, buckled sidewalk. As I mount the steps to the porch, I notice the front door is ajar.
The hairs on the back of my neck jump to attention. This is the part in the movie when the star grabs their gun.
I don’t have a gun.
I’m probably seriously overreacting. Maybe the man just didn’t latch his door. Maybe I’ve actually seen too many movies.
There’s no stack of decaying newspapers piled up on the porch so it’s safe to assume someone who lives in the house has passed through this door in the last twenty-four hours. I recite this invented factoid to calm my frayed nerves.
I ring the doorbell several times. This way if the guy is home he’ll absolutely hear, and if there’s an intruder inside, they’ll have ample warning and hopefully bolt out the back door.
No one answers.
No one bolts.
It’s deadly quiet. Why did I say that?
I push open the solid wooden door and it creaks with appropriate Scooby Doo intensity.
Nice and loud, I shout, “Delivery for Mr. Whitakker. Anyone here?”
Nada. Bupkus.
The plain white blinds in the living room and the complete lack of throw pillows on the lumpy sofa lead me to believe Mr. Whitakker lives alone.
I give one more shout, “Hello? Is any—?”
My throat tightens and cuts off my voice. I freeze with one foot on the stained grey linoleum and one foot on the threadbare brown carpet. There are other feet.
These feet are not standing feet. They’re covered by the soles of a man’s slippers, and I’m afraid to report that they seem to be attached to a body.
I put my hand over my mouth to capture the inevitable scream.
I step into the kitchen and lean around the cabinet.
I scream into my hand and search the room.
I’ve never been so grateful for cell service in my entire life. I run out of the death house, leave the door open, and I dial as I run. Please don’t be on a coffee break, Furious Monkeys!
She answers. “Pin Cherry Sheriff’s Station. How may I direct your call?”
“I need Sheriff Erick—Harper, right away. It’s an emergency.” My breath comes in little gasps.
“You should have called 911 if—”
“Put Erick on the line. I’ve got a dead body here!” Okay, maybe I lost it a little. But I don’t “do” dead bodies.
“Sheriff Harper here.”
“Erick, it’s Mitzy. He’s dead. I came to ask him some questions, and the door was open and then a body—there’s so much—I mean, it’s fresh—”
“Miss Moon? Where are you?”
I recite the address.
“What are you doing in Broken Rock?”
“I wanted to question the security guard. Something just didn’t sit right with me—”
“Miss Moon, I need you to get in your car and drive directly back to this station. Can you do that?”
“But the body, and I wanted to know about the third shot—”
“Mitzy, this is serious. There was no third shot. The security guard was the inside guy.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense. Does my dad know about this?”
“Mitzy, please get out of that house.”
I’m temporarily distracted by the desperate concern in Erick’s voice, so I don’t let him know that I’m already in my car.
“If you come to the station, I’ll let you read Jackson’s statement.”
I know it’s a blatant bribe but— “Deal.”
I lock myself inside the Mercedes and drive as fast as my heart is racing. I figure a dead body is the best excuse I’ll ever have for speeding.
Chapter 27
I rush into the sheriff’s station and am surprised to see my dad in the waiting area. He’s lounging in a chair, absently rubbing the sleeve of his light-blue Oxford shirt between his thumb and forefinger.
He looks up and smiles. “Harper asked me to come back in.”
“Did he say why?”
“Something to do with the PI’s statement. I asked Silas to meet me here, just in case.”
Oh boy. This does not sound good. As much as I believe in my dad’s innocence, I’m growing increasingly concerned about this private investigator’s involvement. What if he killed the security guard? I cross my arms and pinch myself. Get it together, Moon.
Sheriff Harper walks out of his office and looks from me to my dad. “Good, you’re both here. I’ll need you to come to my office.”
I didn’t hear the word arrest. I follow without formal protest.
Jacob is the first to speak. “What’s all this about, Harpe
r? What was that PI up to?”
Erick closes his door and motions for us to take the seats in front of his desk.
My nerves are shot and I don’t have it in me to argue. I collapse into a stiff brown chair.
Erick shuffles some papers on his desk and sighs. “Cal hired the PI to look into your old case, Jacob.”
“My case? Why?”
“I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure, but Mr. Jackson was paid for one thing and one thing only: to find out what actually happened the night of the robbery.” Erick moves the same papers around again.
I lean forward and put both hands on the edge of his metal-topped desk. “And?”
“I have to follow a couple leads and verify some of the information—”
“But?” I strum my fingers impatiently.
“But it sounds like Jackson found some evidence that would refute Darrin’s testimony.”
My father leans back in his chair. The wood creaks as he squares his shoulders and clenches his jaw. “What kind of evidence?”
“Jackson spoke to the security guard. He had a deal with Darrin to destroy the monitoring equipment and the tape from the day of the robbery. Darrin was supposed to cut him in on thirty percent of the take.”
“News to me,” my dad grumbles through gritted teeth.
Erick nods and continues, “When Darrin got caught the guard threatened to come forward, but Darrin promised Whitakker an extra $10,000 to keep quiet.”
My dad’s hands grip his knees, and the only sound in the room is his fingers squeezing across the denim fabric. “Darrin didn’t have that kind of money,” he growls.
“Not all the stolen cash was recovered. It seems like Darrin had time to stash some of it somewhere and he used it to bribe the guard. He promised him more when he got out.” Erick drops the papers on his desk and leans back in his chair. “He made the deal with the district attorney to make sure he got out before you.”
“Worked out pretty well for good ol’ Darrin. He was sentenced to forty-eight months and got out in thirty-two with time off for good behavior.”
I put my hand on top of my dad’s tense fingers. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”
He shakes off my sympathy.
I sigh and continue questioning Erick. “Who killed Whitakker?” I shudder as the image from the kitchen floor in Broken Rock looms in my memory.
Sheriff Erick sighs. “Jackson claims Whitakker kept the security footage as insurance, and for blackmail. As long as Darrin kept the payments trickling in, the tape was safe. Of course, once Jackson found out about the tape, Cal offered a massive payoff to get his hands on it. Someone wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.”
My dad’s white knuckles crack and his teeth grind. “Darrin.”
“That’s what we’re thinking too.” Erick leans back and shakes his head sadly.
I look from Erick to my dad and back. “So, Darrin killed Whitakker.”
Jacob’s voice cracks as he adds, “And Cal.”
“And Cal,” I whisper. The wind goes out of my sails. My witty banter vanishes. “What now?”
“We have a statewide BOLO out on Darrin MacIntyre, but something tells me he hasn’t left the area.” Erick locks eyes with my dad. “What do you think, Jacob?”
“He’s gonna finish what he started.”
“We’d like to put you in protective custody.”
Jacob reaches for my hand. “Both of us?”
“We have no reason to believe Mitzy’s in danger.”
Jacob stands and the room seems to shrink to half its size. “He dumped a body in the alley behind her bookshop and she just walked out of a murder scene. I’m not leaving her unprotected.”
“I understand your concern, Jacob. We’re a small force. We feel you’re the target. It’s unlikely that Darrin is even aware of Mitzy’s presence in Pin Cherry, or her connection to you.”
My dad’s fists ball up tightly.
I jump up and step between them. “Why don’t you just stay with me, Dad? We’ll have a sleepover, and I’m sure Sheriff Harper can spare a patrol car to keep an eye on the bookshop.” I look at Erick with a desperation I can’t hide. “Deal?”
He nods. “I can arrange that. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”
“I hope you find him before I do.” Jacob puts a hand on the sheriff’s desk and leans down. “I don’t mind making good on that murder charge.”
I grab my dad’s arm and pull him out of the station before he says— Well, it’s too late for that, but I don’t want Erick to lock him up.
We walk silently back to my car.
“Take me out to Cal’s place.”
“I don’t think we want to stir things up with Kitty. Let’s—” My voice cracks as I plead.
“I need to pick something up.” He stares straight ahead and his jaw is set.
I don’t like the look in his eye or the last thing he said to Erick. “Dad, I don’t want you to get a gun. Please don’t do what you’re thinking.”
“Darrin needs to pay for everything he took from me.”
I can’t stop them. The waterworks burst. “But he could take so much more. Please, Dad, I’m begging you. I just found you. Don’t let this revenge take you away from me again.”
His eyes soften and he looks at me. “He killed my father, Mitzy.”
“And now you want to give him a chance to kill mine?” I sob uncontrollably.
He scoops me into his arms and his chest heaves as he chokes back his own emotion. “All right, you win. Let’s have that sleepover.”
Chapter 28
The festive mood of our previous sleepover is absent as we walk into the darkened bookshop. I press the flashlight app on my phone and we walk somberly toward the staircase.
The uplifting feeling of bonding has evaporated and the heavy weight of Darrin’s betrayal hangs over us like a dark storm cloud.
I unhook the “No Admittance” chain, and Jacob and I circle up the metal staircase.
In the apartment, we straighten pillows and blankets in silence. I can’t stand it.
“Dad?”
The eyes that look over at me are dark and empty.
“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now, but—”
He lifts a hand to stop me. “Darrin was my friend. It’s not about the money or the side-deal with the security guard. That was classic Darrin. He always hedged his bets. That slippery side-deal crap is what got him tossed out of the Navy.” Dad folds a pillow and punches his large fist into the feathers. “He stole fifteen years of my life.”
I nod. “And he stole you away from me.” I sit down on the floor and rest my small hand on top of my dad’s fist. “But the truth has finally come out. We’re together, and the police can take care of Darrin.”
He sighs. “I hear what you’re saying, Mitzy. My brain agrees, but my broken heart wants revenge. I need to make Darrin pay.”
The veins in Jacob’s arm pop up as his fist tightens.
I pull away—helpless.
He jumps as goosebumps cover his skin.
“Grams?” I look up.
“Sounds like a good news/bad news situation, dear. What happened?”
I bring her up to speed on the security guard, and Darrin’s killing spree.
“Poor Cal. He was trying to make things right with Jacob. He wanted another chance.” She floats toward the coffered ceiling. “Poor, poor Cal.”
Desperate to shift the mood, I lift up the remaining packet of microwave popcorn and say, “Wanna split this?”
Jacob pulls his mind back from whatever road it had traveled down and smiles. “Sounds good.” He snags the pack from my hand and stands. “Microwave is in the back room, right?”
“Correct. Two minutes and twenty seconds should do it.”
He chuckles. “Give or take, eh?”
I blush and nod. I’ll spare him the story of the burned popcorn, the smoke alarm, and the horrible scent that still lingers in the back room.
Jacob
leaves and I turn to Grams. “Can you believe this Darrin jerk? I mean, how did Dad even end up being friends with such a colossal—”
Grams interrupts my tirade. “They were best buddies since sixth grade, or thereabouts. Darrin’s family moved into town and the boys hit it off. They played football together. Cal would take them hunting, and they were inseparable.”
“But Darrin is evil!” I stand and pace to the window.
“He was always the instigator, but in high school it was fairly harmless things like staying out past curfew and stealing a few beers from the fridge. Darrin didn’t go completely off the rails until he got expelled from school.”
“College?”
“He never made it. He was caught stealing some test answers their senior year and the school had a zero-tolerance policy. He was expelled.” Grams floats toward me.
I chew on a Red Vine and nod my head. “He never got his GED or anything?”
“I can’t say for sure, dear. But Darrin was furious about the injustice. Your dad went off to college and Darrin joined the Navy for a spell, but he was dishonorably discharged in no time. Once he was back on the street, he couldn’t let go.”
I plop down on the settee and reach for another Red Vine. “What do you mean?”
“Simply, that Darrin hounded your father endlessly. He would take him out every weekend, and eventually every night. Your dad always liked to party, so it didn’t take much pressure to get him to ignore his studies.”
I could relate to the aimless party cycle. “Did Dad drop out or get kicked out?”
“His grades plummeted. Cal cut off his allowance and threatened to stop paying for college. Jacob loved to rail against authority.” She turns away and I assume she’s hiding her tears.
“But how did they go from partying to robbery?” I ask.
Grams goes absolutely still. It is strange. It looks like when you press pause on a movie.
“What is it?”
She flickers. “How long has Jacob been gone, dear?”
I shrug.
She vanishes through the wall and comes flying back a few seconds later, like a ghost comet.
“He’s here!”
I don’t have to ask “who.” The fear on her face tells me everything.
Fries and Alibis Page 15