by Jessica Beck
"I guess we just missed him," I said, though Moose pulled up in front of the store and stopped anyway.
"The doors may be locked and the lights seem to all be turned off, but trust me, Dave is still in here," Moose said as he shut off the engine.
"How could you say that? The place is empty."
"Not completely. If you look closely, you’ll see that there’s still a light on in Dave’s office, and I doubt that he keeps it on all night when he’s not here."
After we both got out of the truck, Moose pointed to a car parked in the far corner of the grocery store’s parking lot and said, "Besides, his yellow Honda’s still here, and that means he hasn’t gone home yet."
I hadn’t realized that the car belonged to Dave. "Moose, even if he’s buried somewhere in the back of the store, how are we going to get his attention? Are we supposed to just start pounding on the front door?"
"That works for me," my grandfather said as he proceeded to do exactly what I’d just described.
"Not so loud. You’re going to get us arrested for disturbing the peace," I said as I put a hand on my grandfather’s arm.
"Well, at least we’ll get his attention," Moose said. With a bit of irritation in his voice, he added, "Has the man gone completely deaf?"
Moose was about to start pounding again, and I was considering letting him go at it full-force, when I looked into the darkened store and saw Dave walking toward us.
"Here he comes," I said.
"It’s about time."
As he opened the front door, Dave said, "Sorry folks, but we’re closed. If you need something for the diner, I can get it for you first thing tomorrow morning."
"Thanks for the offer, but we’re stocked up just fine," Moose said. "Dave, we need to talk to you."
The grocery store manager clearly wasn’t pleased with my grandfather’s request. "Can it wait? I’m beat, and I have to be back here at six tomorrow morning." He glanced at me and added, "Come on, Victoria. You’re the only one in Jasper Fork who keeps the kind of crazy hours that I do. Cut me some slack."
"Don’t worry. This won’t take a minute," Moose said as he stepped inside past Dave, though I’d been considering backing down and doing as the man had asked. After all, he was right. Nobody knew the toll the hours we worked had on us, and the grocery store owner had managed to find the perfect way to get my sympathy.
On the other hand, my grandfather wasn’t about to wait a single second longer to interrogate a suspect than he had to.
"Sorry about this," I said as I stepped in after Moose, and Dave just kind of shrugged as he locked the front door back and followed us into his empty store.
I suppose that it was the best I could hope for, given the circumstances.
It was kind of eerie walking through the grocery after everyone else was gone. Items on the shelves cast odd shadows in the emergency lighting, which gave everything a strange red glow. I normally thought of grocery stores as warm and inviting places, offering my favorite things, but there was something darkly ominous about the place in the near darkness, and the haunting quality of the emptiness surrounding us.
I followed Moose to the only real light in the place, the single light bulb coming from Dave’s office, and as we entered the cramped space, it felt as though the illumination offered safety somehow from the aisles.
My imagination was definitely getting the better of me.
Dave eased down into his familiar battered leather chair and put his feet up on the old gray metal desk in front of him. Putting his hands behind his head, he asked us, "Okay, I’m listening. What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?"
"We want to talk to you about Wally Bain," Moose said.
Dave frowned at the mere mention of the man’s name. "That was a real shame what happened to him in his own barn, wasn’t it? It feels like nobody’s ever really safe anymore."
"We understand that you two had a pretty public argument recently," I said.
Dave shot a quick glance in my direction. "Victoria, I shouldn’t have to explain it to you. The produce he was sending me lately wasn’t worth having." He sat up for a second as he followed up his statement by asking, "Unless he gave you better merchandise than I got. Was he holding out on me, Victoria?"
"No, the produce he’d been bringing us lately was definitely not up to his old standards. Believe me, we understand why you were upset with him, but what we want to know is, was that the only thing you two were fighting about?"
"It was enough, wasn’t it?" Dave asked. "Sure, I was angry about how bad things had become, but I wasn’t mad enough to kill him."
"When was the last time you saw him?" Moose asked, not giving Dave a chance to even catch his breath after answering my questions.
The store manager hesitated before he answered, but whether it was because he was thinking about the question, or planning to lie when he answered, I wasn’t sure. "I’m not happy about it, but the truth is, the last time I saw him was when we argued yesterday morning," he finally said, and then softened for a moment. "I hate that the last words between us were spoken in anger."
"I didn’t realize that you two were that close," I said.
Dave seemed to consider my question before answering. He’d hesitated so much during this conversation that I began to wonder if maybe it was just a habit he had that I’d failed to pick up on in the past. "We weren’t, not really, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
Moose pushed a little harder. "So, you’re absolutely certain that you didn’t see him after that? Think about your answer carefully. It’s important."
Dave nodded. "I don’t have to. I’ve already been over this with the sheriff, and I don’t see any reason to change my story now, because everything I’ve told you is the truth." He stood, stretched, and then started toward the front. "Now, if you two don’t mind, I have some paperwork to finish up before I can go home."
Moose refused to budge. "Go right ahead. We don’t mind. We can keep chatting while you work."
I wondered sometimes about my grandfather’s audacity. Would Dave throw us out? It appeared that he was considering it, but he finally threw his hands up in the air and said, "You know what? Forget it. There’s nothing on my desk that won’t wait until the morning. I’m going home, and unless the two of you want to spend the night locked up in the grocery store, I’d suggest that you leave when I do."
"Of course we will," I said as I stood, though my grandfather refused to budge. "Aren’t you coming, Moose?"
He appeared to consider it, finally shrugged, and then Moose got up as well.
Once we were all outside, Dave’s voice softened. "I’m sorry if I was a little touchy a while ago, but it’s been a hard couple of days."
"We understand," I said, and after a moment, Moose nodded in agreement as well.
"We’ll talk later," my grandfather said.
Dave clearly wasn’t pleased about that prospect, but knowing my grandfather, I was certain that he realized that he didn’t have much choice.
As Dave made his way to his car, Moose asked me in a soft voice, "What do you think, Victoria? Should we follow him?"
I was quite surprised by my grandfather’s suggestion. "Is it really necessary? Moose, do you actually think he might be the killer?"
"I don’t know yet, but why don’t we make sure he’s going home like he said he was?"
"You’ve been watching too much television lately," I said. "I’m going to have to talk to Martha about that."
"Who do you think has been watching with me? You never answered my question, Victoria. If we’re going to trail Dave, we have to make up our minds and do it right now."
"I guess it couldn’t hurt," I said, "but I still think that it’s just going to be a wild goose chase."
"Maybe so, but it’s as good a lead as we’ve got at the moment."
I just wished that I had a reason to disagree with his assessment, but I didn’t.
"Give him a little more space," I to
ld Moose as he started following Dave down the road a few minutes later. "We don’t want him to know we’re tailing him."
"No worries. He won’t recognize this truck," Moose said. "Your dad has had it parked for months."
"I still don’t think we should take any chances."
My grandfather backed off a little, but not enough for my taste. We followed Dave through the dark streets, and when we approached his house, I fully expected him to make a right turn into his driveway, but to my surprise, he kept going.
"Now, that’s interesting," Moose said. "He must not be as tired as he let on to us earlier."
"Where could he be going?" I asked.
"I don’t have a clue, but then again, that’s why we’re following him, isn’t it?"
As we drove farther and farther out of town, I was more and more puzzled by Dave’s behavior. "Moose, there aren’t any bars out this way, are there?"
"No, it’s mostly just farmland until we get to Molly’s Corners," Moose said. "But I have a hunch he’s not going that far. Wally Bain’s place is a mile up the road."
"Do you think he’s going back to the scene of the crime? I thought they just did that in the movies."
Moose shrugged. "What if he dropped something after he killed Wally, and he didn’t realize it was gone until he got to the grocery store? Wouldn’t you go back to look for it before the police stumbled across it if it were you?"
"If I’d done something that careless, I would hope that I would have taken care of it before now."
"Think about it, Victoria. You said yourself that his schedule is as crazy as yours is most days. When would he have had the time to revisit the crime scene? He’s been working all day at the grocery store."
"I can’t believe there’s a chance that we’re going to catch a killer this quickly," I said.
"We’re due a little luck, wouldn’t you say? It will be nice clearing our names so quickly this time."
When we got to the turnoff to Wally Bain’s farm, I held my breath, waiting to see the truck turn. When it continued up the road, I let it all out in a huff.
"It looks like we were wrong," I said.
"Maybe, maybe not," Moose said. "Just because he didn’t take the turn to Wally’s doesn’t mean that he’s innocent."
"I agree with you, but if he’s not headed there, where is he going?"
Our question was soon answered when Dave’s turn signal popped on, and he slowed down and pulled into a long drive off the highway.
I didn’t need to read the sign to know that we were at Sally Ketchum’s farm.
"Why is he going there at this time of night?" Moose asked. "Do you suppose they’re seeing each other?"
I had a hard time picturing Dave and Sally together, at least not that way. "I guess it’s possible. That kind of kills our theory of the grocer as a murderer, doesn’t it?"
"Why’s that?" Moose asked as he kept driving past Sally’s place.
"Where are you going?" I asked when I noticed what he was doing.
"You don’t really expect me to pull in behind him, do you? I’m looking for a place to turn around so I can get you back home."
"I have a better idea," I said. "Go back toward Sally’s place, and then pull off the road and shut off the engine before you get to the turnoff."
"Do you plan on staying out here all night?" Moose asked, though he did as I’d suggested and started looking for a place we could hide.
"No, but we can afford to give it an hour or two, can’t we?"
"I’m game if you are," Moose said as he pulled off the road a hundred yards before we got to Sally’s turnoff. Once we were off the road, Moose shut the truck off, and then reached behind me, pulling out a pair of blankets from behind the bench seat. "Here you go. It might get cold with the engine shut off."
I took the blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders, letting the rest of the material cover my lap. "Do I want to even know how you happened to have two blankets in the back of the truck just when we needed them?"
"You never know when a blanket emergency is going to pop up," he answered with a grin.
"You don’t happen to have any coffee back there too, do you?"
"Sorry, but I’m not that prepared."
"It’s just as well. If I have any more, I’ll have a tough time sleeping tonight." I looked toward the side road hoping to spot something out of the ordinary, but it took a few turns soon after it left the main road, so all I could see was darkness in the direction of Sally’s place. "What should we do while we’re waiting?"
"I didn’t bring any knitting with me, if that’s what you’re asking," my grandfather said with a smile.
"I didn’t know you knitted," I said.
"I don’t, but if I did, the statement stands. I still didn’t bring it along."
I nodded. "That’s good. I didn’t bring my totem pole to work on, either."
"You’re carving a totem pole?" he asked in wonder.
"No, but I might take it up, just as soon as you start knitting. I’m sorry, I thought we were listing things that neither one of us do."
He shook his head and laughed softly. "Victoria, I could never deny the fact that you’re my kin, could I?"
"Not if you hoped that anyone would believe you," I replied. I was about to say something else when the weeds lit up softly in the night. "Is he finished already?"
"It’s bound to be him."
Sure enough, three minutes later, Dave’s truck came up the road, hesitated, and then took off back toward town. Moose started the truck and followed him again, using just his parking lights on the road.
"Turn your headlights on," I said as I fought to see where we were going.
"I don’t want to arouse his suspicions," Moose said.
"Don’t you think you’re doing exactly that by running your parking lights? He won’t wonder if you flip on your lights, unless you high-beam him."
Moose grunted as he turned his headlights all the way on, and I settled in beside him, happy now that we could both see the road ahead of us.
Dave headed straight home, and we watched as he pulled into his driveway before we drove past him. There was some kind of container under his arm as he got out, something I hadn’t seen him leave the grocery store with.
"What’s that he’s got with him?" I asked Moose.
"Beats me. Maybe it’s his dinner."
"Do you honestly think that Sally’s cooking for him?" I asked. "Moose, that doesn’t make any sense."
"Victoria, I’m just guessing. There’s no way we can know what he has, but it seems kind of odd to me, doesn’t it feel that way to you? If he’s romancing Sally Ketchum on the QT, he’s not investing much time in the process."
"It can’t be that," I said. "No woman would put up with it. There has to be another reason Dave went out there. What could be in that container?"
"You realize that it might not have anything to do with Sally, don’t you?" Moose asked. "It might just be a coincidence that he took it into the house with him after visiting her at her farm."
"You might be right, but what good does it do us to assume that? I’m going to continue believing that the container is related to his visit until I learn otherwise."
"Well, think what you’d like, but don’t jump to any conclusions."
"I won’t." I had a sudden impulse that I wanted to act upon. "Moose, stop the truck."
"What’s wrong?" he asked as he slowed, and then stopped the truck.
"I need to see what’s in that container," I said.
"Have you lost your mind, Victoria? What are you planning to do, go up and ring the doorbell, then ask him nicely to let you have a peek at what he brought home?"
"I’ll think of something when I get there," I said.
"Wipe that thought from your mind right now, Victoria. You’re not going there alone," Moose said firmly.
I couldn’t let him tag along, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to say it without hurting his feelings. "He might talk to me, Moose,
but he’s not going to do it if you’re standing right there beside him. You’re too intimidating."
"I’m not sure that I agree with that, but there’s another possibility you’re failing to take into consideration."
"What’s that?" I asked.
"Dave might decide to grab you if he thinks that you’re alone, and I for one am not going to explain to your grandmother how I let something happen to you. Either I go with you, or I take you home right now. It’s your call."
"Will you at least stay out of his line of sight if you come with me?" I asked. I’d been planning to get a peek inside his house by looking through a window before I rang the bell, but that clearly wasn’t going to work now.
I couldn’t see Moose practicing stealth in any way, shape, or form.
"I suppose I could stand nearby in the shadows," he said, "but the second you cross that threshold, I’m stepping in."
At least I knew the ground rules. "It’s a deal," I said. "Don’t park in his driveway, okay? I want to catch him off guard if I can."
My grandfather shrugged as he pulled the truck up to the curb a dozen feet from Dave’s place. "Come on. Let’s go."
"You’ll follow my lead and not interfere unless it looks as though I might be in danger, right?"
"Right," Moose said.
I didn’t like the cavalier way he’d said it. "Do you promise?"
"Victoria, I said I would," Moose said. "Is my word not good enough for you these days?"
"Of course it is," I said. "I just know how enthusiastic you can get sometimes." Honestly, that was the mildest word I could choose for my grandfather’s behavior.
He approved of it with a nod. "You know, that’s as good a way to describe me as any."
I walked to the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dave before he could see that I was watching him, but the front porch light flipped on the second my foot hit the welcome mat. Moose was as startled as I’d been by the sudden explosion of light, but he neatly stepped into the shadows on one side of the railing and out of Dave’s direct line of sight. I knew he was there, but I wasn’t at all certain that Dave would be able to see him.