by Tamara Woods
"That was a bad look for him, but on the other hand, he doesn't have any good ones," Clare said.
"He has Travis locked up because his blood was on the victim and there had been witnesses to a fight hours before."
"Right?"
"He's not taking into consideration that maybe the blood was literally from the fight? By ignoring that, he's allowing himself to not look for anybody else. He can't see past his own problems with Travis."
Clare nodded, taking a sip of her tea. It was true. According to the notes that Ellie Mae had taken, they were looking at more of the reasons that Travis would have done it,but didn't find anything other than being mad.
Isa went on. "Plus, they haven't even figured out why Chad had been at the bowling alley. Travis said he'd gone home to his parent's house, but he'd been quiet so he wouldn't wake them. No real alibi there."
"No real evidence either," Clare added.
"I guess we're going to have to do more, despite what Travis said. We have to find out what Chad was involved in. Who would have the most reason to get rid of him? Did he have any dirty dealings that he was into? Did he double-cross somebody? Did he hurt somebody? Or what about his girls?"
"Girls?" Clare's voice was strained.
"Yeah, the girls he used to fool around with. Were any of them people who might have misconstrued what was what? Look at this."
In the police report, Isa noted that an unidentified female caller had called in the tip to the police that a murder had taken place at the bowling alley.
"Didn't Wesley say he'd come in and found the place like that?" Isa asked Clare.
She shrugged. "Maybe he got confused."
"I don't know. I'm guessing he probably doesn't get many dead bodies in the bowling alley. I would have assumed he would remember things pretty precisely."
Reading further into the summaries of information, Isa noticed that Ellie Mae had taken out some information. She hadn't left all the names in for instance.
"I wonder who was the person that they'd found who was working with Chad to run the schemes?" Clare asked.
Isa chewed on the side of the thumb. A gross habit, but it helped her to think. It felt like this version of the police report was bringing up more questions than answers.
Something caught Isa's eye. "A girlfriend?" she asked. Apparently, someone had told the police that Chad had a girlfriend, but he kept her on the side.
"Could she be Meredith?" Isa asked, taking notes on her phone.
"Or maybe someone else," Clare quickly added.
Isa looked at her friend a little closer, noting how clenched her fist were. "Yeah, maybe. You never know," she said to appease her friend.
"No, any girl who dealt with him knew exactly what he wanted. And didn't want."
"You certainly knew, right homie?" Isa smiled a little sadly.
"How did you—?"
"It might not have been obvious to somebody else, but you've been my ace from practically birth," Isa said, throwing an arm around her friends shoulder and drawing her closer. "He must have meant something to you, and I'm sorry you lost him."
Clare blinked in surprise, drawing away. "I thought you'd have way more to say than that."
"What do you mean?"
"Back in the day, you would've told me how loose my morals were and how I needed to get right with the Lord."
Isa grimaced. "Back in the day, I could be an insufferable know-it-all."
"Still can," Clare stage whispered.
"Dang! You didn't have to take the shot," Isa shook her head in mock sorrow. "But seriously, I have grown up a little bit. And I don't know what went on between you two. Who am I to judge?"
"Sex," Clare said, her eyes sharp on her friend's face.
"Huh?"
"That's what it was about. Doing the nasty. Bumping uglies. Making a two headed beast, buttering the biscuit, parking the beef bus in tuna town—"
"Parking the...okay, okay I get it!" Isa her hand in surrender, which Clarebelle collapsed into giggles. Her friend wasn't wrong, it did make Isa feel some type of way to hear her talk about sex like that. But she'd learned that not everyone was looking for a special someone for life.
Some people only wanted someone for the night.
"What if there's someone who didn't get the memo?" Isa asked.
"What do you mean?"
"What if he was involved with somebody who accepted the terms, but wanted to change things?"
"Like buyer's remorse?"
"Something like that. It seems like that spot would be as good as any for a late night rendezvous."
"Who are you thinking?"
"Maybe Meredith?" Isa thought back to the girl's tarot reading. "She wanted forgiveness for something. Maybe she wanted forgiveness for murdering him?"
Clare shook her head. "That sounds crazy,"
Isa shrugged. "People have done stranger things for love."
Like go along with a situation that you absolutely hate, just so you can be around the guy you love, she thought. She could relate on one level.
"Or obsession," Clare said. "She did used to hang around where he was a lot. She always seemed to know where he was going to be. Remember, we even saw her when we were on our way to The Rec."
"I forgot about that!"
Isa snapped her finger. "Here's another thing I can't believe I didn't think of before now. How easy is it to operate the bowling alley thing? Would someone be able to just start the mechanism or would they need to do how it works? Who has worked there before?"
"I honestly don't know. I'll ask Wes about that," Clare said.
They sat in silence for a second, the rooster clock above the stove making the most noise.
"Where do we go now?" Clare asked.
Isa started ticking things off on her finger.
"We need to figure out where Meredith was that morning. We need to find out the shady stuff Chad was up to. He must have been doing something more than what was in these notes. And we need to see if anybody saw Travis go home that night."
"They can just say that he came back without someone knowing," Clare said.
Isa nodded. "That's fair. But it gives us a place to start with establishing an alibi for him. Right now, we're at nowhere on that front."
"I can't wait until all of this over. I like the drama of drank too much for karaoke night to this dumpster fire," Clare said.
Isa nodded in agreement. At the moment she'd settle for going home to see her aunt and her cat. She figured Mad Maddie was probably sleeping on the back of her chair. She'd claimed that comfy spot.
"Too bad we have to balance out the sheriff's bullpuck," she said. She thought back to last week with Travis's mother getting into her face. "That's what everybody is expecting of me anyway."
"Might as well make the best of it. I got an idea for Monday night's caper. Text me after dinner."
"Oh no," Isa closed her eyes briefly. "What kind of shenanigans are you going to get me into?"
"Only the good time. Don't worry, I've got it all under control."
Isa groaned. "Famous last words."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ISA ADJUSTED HER CARDIGAN, a chill lingered in the backroom today. Yesterday had been her first relaxing day since she'd been home. She'd managed to slip through the cracks on going to church. She'd spent the day with Maddie, lounging in different areas of the apartment. But now she was back at it again in the Mystic Eye. Her aunt was in the front where she liked it best and Isa was in the office where she could get the most done. She was continuing on her quest to add data to her spreadsheet trying to find more patterns for sales. Her Aunt still thought it was the new business coming in and cutting into her business. Isa didn't agree, but she needed numbers and cents, before she could talk to her aunt about common sense. Proof.
And that's what she needed to do with this case as well, she thought. She hadn't gotten any concrete evidence about anything. And after Travis's odd call the other night, she felt like she knew even less. S
he stomach felt sour with all of her worry. Of course he wouldn't sound like himself, he was in jail. But why had he been trying to warn her away? Especially since it sounded like his lawyer wasn't ready for a potential murder case. She had to keep on this path.
As things stood, she knew they'd found his blood on Chad, but since they'd had that fight earlier it wasn't exactly conclusive. And some information gathered through a woo-woo tarot reading in her aunt's apartment, which she wasn't sure could be used as evidence. She wasn't sure what it all meant. It felt like there was something her aunt had to to get her to pick up during the tarot reading, but she wasn't sure what. Her aunt liked to say that her "gifts" made it impossible for her to give immediate directives to people. If she were too specific, it could change the course of actions for people, resulting in chaos! It was like the butterfly effect for hippies.
And then there was the mystery woman at The Rec that no one had heard much about. If Meredith and Clare had been his lovers on the DL, who knows who else he could've been playing with? She'd have to find out more, maybe at his funeral that had been announced in today's paper. Would it be the most awkward thing in the world to go to the funeral held by the family that owned the building that was trying to evict her aunt?
Yes.
Would she be going?
She sighed. She'd known the answer before she'd asked herself.
"I miss Ohio," she murmured, adding more data to her Excel spreadsheet. Though she'd had drama there as well. If there's drama everywhere she went, was she the actual problem?
"Oh my goodness, you gotta hear this!" The door behind her slammed against the wall as Clare rushed in.
Maybe not, she thought. She spun her chair around.
"Sorry about the door," Clare said. She was so excited, her entire body seemed to vibrate with energy. Even some of her hair was standing on end.
"No problem, what's up?"
She threw herself into the other chair, panting a little. Isa got up and grabbed her a can of pop from the mini-fridge under the desk.
"Thanks, I got so excited, I ran all the way over here." Clare cracked open the can and chugged it down in record time. Then she let out the loudest belch Isa had ever heard.
"You're welcome... I guess?" Isa nose wrinkled in disgust and she took the empty can, tossing it into the trash can. "What's the tea?"
"I was on my way over to the bank when I ran into Sally Ann. She mentioned that she'd heard that Chad was involved in some really bad things. Dirty stuff. She said Rusty had something to do with it. And she told me anybody in his crew had more information." She smiled with satisfaction.
"That's it?"
"Yup."
"Rusty? The owner of that POS bar heading out of town? No other names? No idea of what the 'it' is?"
Clare tapped her nails against the desk, each tap beating out her annoyance. "I feel like you're not getting how big this break is."
"Until we get actual concrete evidence, this is just farting in the wind."
Clare opened her mouth the retort, but her eyes sharpened on Isa fiddling with her ring.
"What's really going on here, Isa?"
She sighed and reminded her friend about Travis's phone call and the thoughts she was having.
"Things were already bad, but now they're getting that much worse. And we don't even know what we're walking into. I'm just...I'm worried, Clare," she finished.
Clare stood up and walked around the desk, hugging her friend. "We're not going to just leave him there, Isa. We're going to figure this out."
Isa leaned into the hug for a minute, allowing someone else to take the strain. But all too soon, she straightened.
"I hope you're right," she said.
Clare picked up her purse and turned to go. "Of course I am. I've got a plan," she said with a wink.
"ARE YOU SURE THIS A good idea?" Isa asked, adjusting the collar of her coat, trying to protect her face against the cold.
"Of course," Clare said, matching her quiet tone. "Don't worry, this is all going to work out fine."
Isa shook her head, but there wasn't much to be done. They pushed open the door of the biker bar and walked in.
If there had been a record play at the The Rusted Nail that night, it definitely would've skipped to an end. As it was, every single person in the bar turned and looked at them as they walked in.
Who knew a biker bar would be so full in the beginning of a work week?
The first thing her eyes lit on was the deer head hanging above the bar with a huge rack. A dusty black thong hung from one of the antlers. The dive had pool tables sporting stained cup rings on the felt. The dart boards hanging from the wall had seen better days, especially the one with the knife in the bull's eyes. Isa clocked that big knife and gulped. Some of the tables had questionable slices and holes in them too. And she noticed a large stain on the floor near the entrance that she decided to believe was a beer stain and nothing else.
A few women milled around, and they seemed more like "working girls" than fellow bikers, judging by the way they were dressed. She couldn't imagine them being on a bike in those skirts. Isa fought the urge to pull her own leather skirt down and straightened her shoulders. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to fake it.
Just ask her ex.
She stomped over to the bar in her tall black faux leather boots and leaned against the bar. Clare joined her, her massively enhanced lady lumps leading the way.
"Believe me, these babies are going to come in handy," she'd said with a satisfied pat when Isa had questioned their ballooned size.
The bartender paused mid-wiping off one of the beer steins. His smarmy smirk left a film thicker than the one on the bar.
"Where can I find Rusty?" Clare asked, leaning forward to show off her cleavage.
He grunted and nodded his head toward the right side of the bar. A guy sat there, nursing his beer, his graying beard hanging down his chest. She winked her thanks and walked away with an extra twist in her step. Isa followed suit, making sure to give herself plenty of room between walking and the guys seated at the bar just in case she needed to make a fast move.
Clare slid on a bar stool, making sure her boobs were on full display. "Hey Rusty, I hear you got what I'm looking for."
"Oh yeah?" He didn't look up from his beer.
She frowned a little and shimmied her chest to attract his attention. He still didn't look up, but the guy standing behind him, dropped his pool stick.
Isa tapped Clare on the shoulder to get her to look at her. "Was this your plan?" she whispered furiously.
"Well...yeah." Clare shrugged. Isa rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten her friend's planning skills were like that of a three year old with ADHD.
"Hey Rusty, do you know the dead kid?" Isa asked. He looked up then and seemed to notice her for the first time.
"Why do you ask me that? I didn't have nothing to do with that kid's tragic end." His voice did not seem to match his look and could've been coming out of a cultured business man, rather than a reprobate biker running a seedy bar.
Isa's stomach felt sour. Something wasn't quite right here.
"I don't know if you did or didn't," she said. "But you and I both know it would be best to find out what's going on so you can keep running your operation here."
He frowned for a second and then his face was expressionless again. "You know, it would be a shame if something happened at your aunt's little bookstore."
Isa found herself right beside of him, looking down. He held up a hand when three of the guys standing behind him, who would've rushed her.
"Rusty, I feel like you might not want me here. Why is that?" she asked, her voice only loud enough for him to hear. "Do you have something to hide? What happens if the police get a tip that you're doing some dirt here? What kind of product was the dead kid unloading for you?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice a low rumble.
"Teach me."
He stared into
her eyes for a beat too long. She fought to appear unshaken, even though she felt like in earthquake was happening in her stomach.
"Alright then," he finally said. "Come to the back with me. There's too many ears here. Leave your girl at the bar."
Her stomach still had the sick feeling, but she didn't feel any additional alarms going off. "I'll go back with you alone as a show of faith. I hope you make it worthwhile," she said.
Isa turned to Clare and whispered into her ear. "If I'm not back in 10, get the hell out of here," she said.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"What choice do I have?"
She turned and smiled at Rusty with a sort of satisfaction. "Let's do this."
Rusty opened the swinging saloon doors to behind the bar. He through the doorway behind the bar to the back of the place. It was a little less honky tonk and more business back there. There was just an office and the bathrooms. The Rusty Nail didn't have a kitchen. They snacks like chips and nuts for their customers. You couldn't pay Isa to eat out of that communal nut bowl.
He opened the door and it was surprisingly neat as a pin. Almost spotless and just as sparse as she'd imagined. A file cabinet, a desk with a newer model Mac, a couple chairs, a coat rack in one corner and a plant in another.
"Have a seat," he said, indicating the red cushiony chair across from his chair. She noticed how clean his nails were. He doesn't repair his bikes, she thought. Grease is one of those things that stick. She took a closer look at him in the better light of the office.
His beard was long, but it was very well maintained. His mustache was perfectly groomed. His blue bandanna was crisp. His clothes seemed newer, even his jeans.
Curious, she thought.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"I just want answers."
"Why do you think I have them?"
"Small towns have big ears," she said. "And it's pretty clear you're supplement your income in some way. You're not living the life of a poor bar owner. How are you supplementing that income?"