Losing her long-time love would be bad enough. Winnie didn’t have one other person in town on whom she could depend. Poor Max did everything he could to get Winnie sober. In the end, he had to protect himself from her drinking, but he never abandoned her. He must really have loved her a lot.
Chapter 16
I drove back to the inn one more time. All this back and forth had started to wear me down. I needed to figure this case out before it blew my whole life apart, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Max and Winnie all the way home.
How many people in the world can say they loved the way those two wayward hearts did? That kind of commitment and dedication came along once in a lifetime. Would anyone ever love me like that, in spite of all my flaws?
Somehow, my relationships always wound up based on judgments. Hearing Max and Winnie’s story made me realize that. Take my relationship with Tim, for example. We both judged each other by how successful we were at our jobs, how much money we made, what kind of apartment we lived in. Without all those external trappings, our relationship wasn’t worth spit on the inside. That’s exactly why it came to nothing in the end. Neither of us really loved the other—not really—not like Max loved Winnie.
He stuck by her, no matter what. He faced the most devastating tragedy any human life can endure, and he never lost faith in her. He visited terrible consequences on her for not gaining control of her life, but he never turned his back on her.
I couldn’t get over the whole thing. I wanted to cry and praise God that kind of love existed somewhere in the world.
The very first thing I saw when I parked my car was Levi Stokes working in the garden. He swung a pick-ax near the greenhouse. He wore his usual skin-tight black T-shirt, and sweat dripped off his forehead.
Levi and I would never love each other the way Max and Winnie did. He wouldn’t tell me the first thing about himself. He held his cards too close to his chest, so I could never truly get to know him.
While I sat there in my car observing him from a distance, he glanced up from his work and looked straight toward my car. Even at that distance, I could see his eyes flash fire. He noticed. He noticed me parking my car and sitting there thinking instead of getting out and going on with my job.
What a fool I was to think we couldn’t share a deep heart connection. He noticed everything I did. He watched over me like a hawk, and he was the first to notice when the tiniest detail of my life got out of kilter.
I could trust Levi with my life. He already saved my bacon once. How many times did I have to doubt him before I understood he would always, always be there? He would be there like no one else I ever met before. If I could trust anybody in this world, it was him.
I kicked my door open and swung out of the car. By the time I got halfway across the parking lot, he’d already bent over his work like he wasn’t watching me the whole time.
Sweat streamed down his face and dampened his hair. He hauled the ax over his shoulder, and all his muscles rippled in one fluid motion to bring it down on its spike point in the dirt. His breath caught in his nose with the effort.
He glanced up at me, but he didn’t stop working. I smiled. “Hi, Levi.”
He wiped the droplets of sweat off his upper lip. “Where have you been? One of the guests was asking for you earlier. I couldn’t tell them where you were or when you’d be back.”
“Sorry about that. I’m back now. Tell me which guest it was, and I’ll deal with it.”
“I don’t know which guest it was. I don’t know the names of all your guests. That’s your job. I’m a handyman, and I’m helping the gardener build a chicken coop. That’s all. I don’t run the front desk so you can go off haring after somebody else’s problems.”
“I went to see Winnie in the hospital, and I’m glad I did. I found out a lot about her and Max’s relationship, and I’m pretty sure now she had nothing to do with his death.”
He actually stopped picking to glare at me. He set the pick head on the ground and leaned on the handle. “What happened to turning over a new leaf? What happened to seeing the error of your ways and sticking to your inn and lesson learned and all that? Have you forgotten everything you told me?”
“I haven’t forgotten. I just…you know.”
“No, I don’t know, Allie. What exactly happened between now and then to make you throw all your promises to me out the window?”
I dug my toe into the dirt. “I never meant to throw my promises out the window. It’s just… things changed. I saw things differently, and now I know enough that I think I can figure out who really killed Max.”
His eyebrows flew up. “Oh, really? Who killed him then?”
I shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, I don’t know exactly. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He hefted his pick onto his shoulder. “I can’t talk about that right now. I’m busy.”
He swung it again. I watched his shoulders bulge under his shirt. I was getting as bad as Eliza and the other women around town. Watching him work and sweat and strain was too enticing. “Don’t you at least want to know what I found?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want to know anything about Max’s death. He’s dead. That’s enough for me. Now, if you don’t have anything else to say to me, I better get back to this, because it’s too hard to talk when I’m trying to breathe.”
He took another swing, and another. Right at that moment, Charlie came around the corner. He grinned when he saw me. “Hi, Allie. Everything all right?”
I turned away. I wasn’t getting anywhere with Levi. “Everything’s grand, Charlie. How’s everything with you and yours?”
He swept his arms out to both sides. “Everything’s grand with us, too. Thanks for asking.”
That was the end of that. I definitely couldn’t ask Levi’s advice on the case with Charlie around, and I couldn’t get in Levi’s face to insist he talk about it without making myself into some kind of nagging shrew.
I headed back to the inn, but my discovery about Max and Winnie sat side by side with my feelings for Levi. How could I expect to win his trust when, as he put it, I “threw my promises to him out the window”? He knew exactly what to say to make me feel as bad as possible about myself.
And yet, time after time, he was always right. He was just as right now as he was when he told me to cool my sleuthing jets. I did make promises, and I did throw them out the window. What did I have going on that could undo that, that could make that mistake up to him, to get him to trust me again?
If I wanted to ever win a love even close to Max and Winnie’s, from anybody in the world, I had to change my ways. I had to make my word my bond, no matter what. I sure wasn’t getting there trying to solve every mystery that rolled my way down Interstate 40.
Chapter 17
I found my way to the front desk and found a handwritten note on top of the ledger.
Hi, Allie
Please check with the lady in Room 5 regarding her meal arrangements. She has something urgent she wants to talk to you about as soon as you get back. Levi
He put an X and a heart at the bottom. The scribbled sketch was so sweet I could have kissed the paper, but at that moment, a familiar voice came out of the card room. I eased closer and found the door ajar.
Fisk Van Steamburg paced around the room with a cell phone pressed to his ear. He talked in agitated tones and waved his free arm as he talked. “Don’t you think I know that? No one has found the entrance to the tunnels, and most people consider a hidden underground network a myth. Yes, I heard all about Nathaniel Rowe growing pot down there, but I still haven’t found the entrance. They didn’t exactly publish a map in the newspaper, did they?”
He paused long enough for someone to answer.
“Well, I didn’t ask to be stranded in this town,” he went on. “My car broke down, and I had to find something to do. I would have gone crazy sitting up all night if I hadn’t.”
Another pause.
“I�
��ve been to see the doctor. I’ve been to see the doctor a dozen times, and I’ve tried every prescription on the market. Nothing helps me sleep. I keep waking up an hour after I lie down, and then I can’t fall back asleep no matter what I do. I’ve tried acupuncture. I’ve tried herbs. I’ve tried hypnosis. Nothing works.”
So, that was what he was doing walking around town at night. He couldn’t sleep, so he took on the project of finding the hidden tunnels under the town. What better way to wile away the time until he got his car back?
He said a lot more, but I didn’t stick around to listen. I went upstairs to the lady in Room 5. I found out she wanted gluten-free meals, and I reported that to Camille, who said she was glad to accommodate the guest’s needs.
By the time I got back to my room, I flopped on the couch and kicked off my shoes. All my instincts and all Levi’s instincts about Fisk turned out to be true. He was no killer. He was a harmless man who couldn’t sleep. He dressed up warmly for his nightly excursions along the Interstate and into the mountains. That, and that alone, bred all this tension and misunderstanding.
Then there was Winnie. She might be a drunk and a sour old lady, but she was no killer, either. She was terrified everyone would accuse her of Max’s death, and her own strange behavior almost caused the thing she most feared to happen.
So, that was two suspects I could scratch off my list, and I was no closer to finding a third. Everyone I thought of seemed too unlikely. I couldn’t exactly suspect Sheriff Mills, could I? Nothing pointed to Arthur Drilling, Tom Potter, or Roger Powers—nothing I knew about, anyway.
I got out my laptop, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the case. Nothing made sense. Who would have a motive to kill Max, and how did they do it? I went back through every piece of the puzzle again and again, but I couldn’t make any sense out of it.
Then I remembered the shop towels. Whatever else happened around Max’s Garage the night he died, those towels didn’t just walk over and throw themselves in Marty’s dumpster.
Marty! I forgot about Marty. Of everyone present at the commission meeting, he had the best motive to get rid of Max. Turning your neighbor’s business into parking spaces might not be a great motive, but it was all I had to go on at the moment.
Marty Tucker. He sure started acting strangely after Max died. Could he be the killer? He could have taken the towels from Max’s and dropped them in his own dumpster on his way back to the diner. That made perfect sense.
I checked my watch. Seven-thirty in the evening, and it was still light outside. There was still time for me to do some hunting of my own.
I jumped off the couch, all my malaise gone. I hurried into the dining room, but I didn’t see anybody around. The clink of plates drew my attention to the kitchen. Camille would be in there washing up after dinner. She could tell me all about Marty, and she was the one who pointed out to me that his behavior changed.
I pushed open the swinging doors, but when I entered the kitchen, I found only fifteen-year-old Ron Potter, Camille’s part-time helper. He sprayed the dishes and scrubbed the pots and pans in the sink. “Hey, Ron, have you seen Camille anywhere?”
“She left for the night.”
“She left! Where did she go?”
“She had to go start her shift at the diner. She said she’ll talk to you in the morning about introducing the gluten-free options to the regular menu.”
I blasted out of that kitchen and raced back to my apartment. I had my foot in one shoe when the phone rang. “Allie darling!”
“Eliza!” I gasped. “You have to help me.”
“Name it, girl. What is it this time? You want me to hog-tie Levi while you jump him—or is it the other way around?”
“This is serious! I need you to meet me at the DoubleDown Diner in ten minutes. Don’t be late.”
“You got it, honey. I’ll be there.” Click.
Good old Eliza. I always knew I could count on her, and I didn’t want to enter the dragon’s maw alone. My heart raced so fast I fumbled with my shoe laces. I should have told Levi where I was going, but I didn’t have time to hunt him down. I had to get to the diner before the trail went cold or Marty caught wind of what I was doing.
Chapter 18
My mind whirled on the drive downtown. What did Marty do to Max? Did they argue about the parking spaces around the garage? Why would Marty throw the towels away?
I screeched into town, but as soon as I saw the big neon sign for the DoubleDown Diner, I changed my mind and parked in front of the police station instead. I crossed the street when I spotted Eliza coming the other way from the hardware store.
She didn’t smile. Her eyes shone as big as saucers in the streetlights. She whispered into my ear, “Okay, here I am. What do you want to do?”
I struggled to breathe. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think Marty had something to do with Max’s death. Camille’s inside. Hopefully she’s alone, and we can talk to her and maybe hunt around for clues.”
Eliza nodded, but she couldn’t take her staring eyes away from the diner. The sign lit up the whole street and gave the place an eerie halo. Eliza hung back and waited for me to make the first move, so I’d better go ahead and do it.
I pushed the frosted glass door open and hesitated. The diner was empty except for a single old man sitting at the counter. The moment we walked in, he downed the rest of his coffee, threw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, and walked out. You wouldn’t know anybody else was around but for the hiss of steam in the kitchen. That must be Camille.
I made my way to the register in front of the service window and called out, “Hello! Camille, are you there?”
No answer. I listened, but no sound came. The steaming noise died away. I glanced at Eliza, but she offered no help. I called again. “Camille! Are you there?”
Still nothing. This was getting creepy. The diner was usually packed with motorists and locals. The place buzzed with activity and conversation. Now it echoed like a mausoleum. Eliza inched closer to me. You could cut the tension with a knife. I would freak out in a second if I didn’t do something.
I grabbed Eliza. “Come on. We’ll go find her.”
I walked around the wall separating the kitchen from the diner itself and pushed through the door into the steamy kitchen. I swam through the mist, but didn’t find anybody anywhere. No Camille, no Marty, no nobody.
Eliza took hold of my sleeve, but I shrugged her off. If she lost it now, I would fall apart, too. We had to make sense of this somehow. We crept along all the way to the far end where the kitchen turned off into the dry storage area. The walk-in refrigerator sat in the back corner, and another hall turned off somewhere else.
I didn’t come all this way to turn back now, so I pressed forward and turned the corner. The hall ended at a single door—an open door leading into an office—Marty’s office. It had to be. I took another step forward, but Eliza held me back. “You can’t go in there.”
“There’s no one around,” I whispered back. “I just want to take a look. This could be our only chance to find something to pin on him.”
She dragged me back, but I fought against her to push forward. I crossed the threshold and looked around. You never saw a more ordinary-looking office. Papers, bills, files, computers, phones, and wires covered every surface. Shelves loaded with notebooks and manuals covered the back wall. A beaten red tool box sat on the bottom shelf tucked into a corner.
I approached the desk and flipped back some of the papers. Most were purchase orders for food supplies, cooking gas, power, and even linens. Nothing out of the ordinary here. A guy like Marty couldn’t keep the diner running if he didn’t manage his business to the letter. No one could claim Marty Tucker couldn’t run a business. He kept his ducks in a row.
I would have liked to turn on the computer, but that would be taking this investigating thing just a little too far. I scanned the shelves. Every book on them related to running a restaurant. They included health and safety
codes, tomes on haute cuisine, and business guides. The guy did his homework.
I kicked the toolbox. “I guess we better go. We won’t find anything here.”
Eliza let out a sigh of relief and headed for to the door. I followed her, but at the last possible second, I pulled the door aside to glance behind it. I almost fell over at what I saw. A pile of dirty rags jammed behind the door, and a bright metal handle stuck out from underneath them. In half a second, I recognized the clear embossed tag that read, Max Nash, Automotive Technician.
I snatched the handle and shook it free. A large crescent wrench as long as my forearm swung up before my eyes. Its curved head was as big as my fist and much heavier. “Look, Eliza!” I breathed. “This is Max’s wrench.”
She stared at it. “What does it mean?”
“Marty must have taken this from Max’s the night he died. And look! There’s a crust of blood on the threads here. He must have used this to bash Winnie Macglass in the head when she almost accused him of killing Max.”
Eliza gasped. “You’re not serious.”
I nodded. “It’s true. Marty killed Max, and he tried to kill Winnie, too. This proves it.”
Eliza cast a frightened look around. “Let’s get out of here, Allie. I don’t like this place at all.”
She didn’t have to convince me. We both turned around at once—and froze in our tracks. Standing there in the doorway, blocking our exit to freedom, was Marty Tucker himself.
Eliza screamed out, and we both jumped into each other’s arms. I did my best to present a cool exterior. “Oh, there you are, Marty. We were just looking for Camille.”
He glanced down at the wrench in my hand. “That’s not Camille.”
I would have given anything to let go of that wrench just then, but somehow it stuck to my hand. It weighed down my arm, but I couldn’t let it go. It offered me my only lifeline to the truth. Marty Tucker was a killer.
The Barrell, Bats and Bubble Gum Page 11