Sunny chewed over that comment—along with the piece of beef she’d just taken from her fork. She hadn’t had a chance yet to talk with Will about her conversation with Neil Garret—or with Dani Shostak. So this had to be something new. She glanced at Will, and noticed him quietly watching Abby.
Oh, come on, she silently complained. Just when I start liking Abby, she winds up as a possible suspect. I hope she’s not the reason he expects to work late this evening.
Will started telling a story about a mishap he’d encountered as a rookie with the state police. “I thought they’d taught me how to handle myself, but a lot of that went out the window when that biker got mad at me. To tell the truth, I was lucky to get the cuffs on him. Folks don’t know it, but the biker gangs are the organized crime up by the border. They smuggle over anything the market will bear—drugs, booze, guns, even girls.”
Just like Dani’s Ukrainian friends, Sunny thought. And he launders the money for them.
Abby looked surprised. “You mean organized crime—like the Mafia?”
“Them we have on both sides of the border,” Will replied. “In fact, the operations in Montreal are traditionally considered a branch of one of the Five Families in New York. They’ve had setbacks up there in recent years, and I understand they’ve turned to some of the biker gangs for muscle.”
He laughed. “Anyway, I guess your days starting out in Hollywood didn’t involve messing with three-hundred-and-fifty-pound hairy guys.”
Abby waggled her eyebrows, grinning. “Well, if you added up the weights of all those dogs I walked . . .”
Will coaxed tales of work misadventures from the rest of them, along with several war stories from Abby’s film career. When she apologized for taking over so much of the conversation, Will said, “Hey, you’ve got better material than the rest of us.”
It sounded like dinner table chitchat, but Sunny noticed that Will managed to draw Abby out not only on her acting, but her restaurant work, even getting her to tell a story about Nicky Gatto.
He’s quietly interrogating her in front of everyone, Sunny thought. Man, I really hope he hasn’t figured a way to connect her to either of these murders.
Sunny helped to clear the dinner dishes away, and Mrs. Martinson came out with one of her famous coffee cakes. “I’m going to say something silly,” she said, “but I mean it seriously. The talking and laughing around the table tonight, you made this feel the most like a family dinner since—well, since my Vince passed on.”
“Mom—” Abby started, but she didn’t know what to say.
“No, honey, I think your dad would approve of us having a good time. He’d just wish he could be here, too.” She raised her cup of coffee in a toast. “To memories and good times.”
Mike raised his cup, too. “And to Vince, who was so much a part of you both.”
They all followed suit and sat around the table finishing their coffee and cake, but it was as if that toast had signaled the end of the meal. All too soon, the visitors were putting on their coats.
Abby leaned in toward Sunny. “I can see why Mom enjoys your visits,” she said in a low voice, not wanting Helena to hear. “Maybe we’ll be able to get together again before I leave on Sunday.”
“I’d like that,” Sunny said, silently worrying, Provided it doesn’t involve Will arresting you.
They stepped out into the chilly air, waving cheerful good-byes before the brisk walk home.
*
Shadow prowled the top floor, his tail lashing around in annoyance. Yes he did this every night, but in the dark time. This was too early, the house was empty, it was all wrong, wrong, wrong. He sank into a crouch at the top of the stairs, glaring down at the door and thinking dark thoughts.
I should get Sunny for leaving me all alone, he thought. Make her sorry for doing that. But what should he do? A disagreement between cats was a lot easier. You showed your teeth, sometimes the claws came out, and most times that was enough. One side usually backed down, solving things. If not, the claws really came out and sometimes there was blood. Shadow had been in enough fights. He’d won a lot, but lost a few, especially when he was very young. Mostly he remembered the pain.
The problem with two-legs was that these tactics usually didn’t work on them. They were just too big, and often too stupid to realize what a cat was trying to do. He’d have to find a better way to vent his annoyance.
That gave Shadow an idea. Maybe I can let out a little bad air when I’m under the covers with her tonight, he thought. Sunny really hates when I do that.
He started down the stairs, aiming for the kitchen where he could bolt down some food and maybe fill his belly, when he heard voices outside the door. Sunny!
For a wild second, he considered leaping down the rest of the stairs to pounce on her feet when she came in. But Shadow pushed that idea down. No. You’re mad at her. No playing.
Although a good sneak attack might scare her . . .
He forced himself to a sedate trot as the keys rattled in the lock, getting halfway to the kitchen before the door opened.
Shadow turned to look over his shoulder, and his heart lurched for a moment just at the sight of his Sunny, her face pink from the cold outside, stepping in and taking off her coat. He ruthlessly crushed the desire to run to her, to wind round her ankles, sniff out where she’d gone, and mark her as his.
No being nice, he reminded himself. She went and left me.
It turned out that getting off the stairs was a good thing, because the Old One mumbled something and began climbing up to the hall above. Sunny and her He went into the room with the picture box. They didn’t turn it on, though, sitting on the big chair together and talking. Sunny was doing most of the speaking. Shadow couldn’t understand it, but her tone sounded nervous.
Maybe you’re blaming the wrong one, the cat thought. What if Sunny’s He came here and made them go away? He seemed to turn up more and more lately, taking Sunny away at all sorts of odd times.
The problem was, how could Shadow show his displeasure? Sunny’s He was even bigger than she was, and dumber about a lot of cat things. If I just ignore him, he’d probably like that, Shadow thought. He’d get to be with Sunny instead of me.
This was very bad, and Shadow couldn’t solve it by charging in with a war cry and his claws out.
Maybe I can sneak up and bite him on the ankle when he tries to rub faces with Sunny. Shadow started skulking forward.
I just hope he’s not wearing those high foot-covers he sometimes uses, Shadow thought. Don’t think I could bite through those.
*
Sunny gave Will an uncertain look as they settled on the couch. Mike, as he often did, had made his excuses and headed upstairs, leaving the living room to them.
But I don’t think there’ll be much smooching involved, Sunny thought. She sat on the edge of the couch. “Well, you dug just about as deeply as you could into Abby Martinson without announcing it,” she said.
Will blinked at her tone. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No, I could see what you were doing. That doesn’t mean I won’t be glad when she takes off back to California this weekend.” Sunny paused for a second. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“Not sure.” Will backed that up with a shrug. “Mainly I was just trying to get a read on her when she wasn’t biting my head off or cleaning my tie. I had hoped to gauge her reaction to a couple of things, but it wasn’t easy. Abby’s a trained actress. She can hide things.” He glanced at her. “It’s like your pal Neil Garret. Do you know the marshals actually train people in WitSec on how to evade giving answers?”
“He’s not my friend.” Sunny took a deep breath. “And he did talk to me after I called him Nicky. The problem is sorting out anything useful from the stream of good old BS.”
“Did he say anything about Val Overton?” Will asked.
Will scowled. “So now we’ve got Garret protecting his life and his money—a strong, double-header motive. And his pal Vane had a house full of guns. That could cover means. And he has no alibi—”
“Actually, Neil does,” Sunny responded. “He just didn’t want Val to hear it, because he’d get in trouble.”
Will stared. “Worse trouble than a murder charge hanging over his head?”
“Trouble that might get him bounced out of witness protection—or hauled out of town without his money.” She explained Neil’s quest for alternate funding to pay off Treibholz. “He wound up trying to deal with a couple of guys we know, over in Portsmouth,” she continued, but Will cut her off.
“Shostak and Lipko,” he said, peering at her. “And you went and talked to them, didn’t you?”
“They confirmed that Neil Garret was trying to hit them up for a bridge loan to keep his store going. Dani wasn’t interested in his business. He figured it was going to fail, anyway. The thing is, though, that Neil was trying to convince them he was a good prospect through the estimated time of death. So, unless the medical examiner was way off, Neil has an alibi for both murders.”
“Yeah, nice work, Sunny, but what were you thinking, talking to those guys alone? Maybe they seem like a charming foreign comedy act, but they’re dangerous. Lipko especially.”
“He saw me back to my car,” Sunny told him.
That didn’t make Will feel any better. “Sunny, you can’t make a joke out of this.” His voice grew sharp and he leaned toward her.
With a sound more like a throaty growl than a hiss, Shadow suddenly came leaping out from behind one of the chairs, attacking Will’s ankle. Unfortunately, Will was wearing heavy boots, and the cat couldn’t get his teeth set. He spat in disgust, then rocketed up, trying to attack the tie dangling from Will’s neck. Shadow’s hiss of triumph turned into a cry of dismay when one of his claws got caught in the heavy embroidered silk.
He dangled for a moment, then Sunny knelt to take his weight in her hands. “Now you’ve done it,” she said.
“Are you talking to the cat, or to me?” Will asked.
“Both,” Sunny answered, trying to work the claw free without leaving a big pull in the middle of the tie. “You for making him think he had to protect me, and him for almost destroying your Christmas present.”
Having gotten Shadow loose, she got back onto the couch, keeping the cat in her lap. Sunny gently ran her fingers over Shadow’s fur. “No problem here, Shadow. You take it easy, now.”
She looked at Will. “I’m not going to make a joke or argue about it. You know how skittish Dani gets when he sees a badge. But he talked to me, and he confirmed Neil’s alibi.”
“I doubt if that would hold up in court,” Will grumped.
Sunny laid a restraining hand on Shadow’s shoulder. “I’m not talking about the DA. I’m talking about you.”
“Yeah, I believe him. Dani wouldn’t want the trouble.” Will thought for a moment. “Did you get any kind of a feeling about things between Val and Neil?”
“I got the impression Neil is keeping a lot more secrets from her than about her,” Sunny said. “He respects her—and the power she has over him. And while he’s playing her to an extent—going to loan sharks, for instance—I don’t think there’s anything romantic involved. Neil showed more feeling over Abby Martinson.” Remembering Will’s quiet interrogation earlier, she asked, “Have you turned up something to make you suspicious of her?”
“Frankly, I wanted to see how she’d react when I mentioned guns.” Will frowned. “I spent most of the day going over Charlie Vane’s financials, which were, to put it mildly, a mess. But I stumbled across an ATM receipt that was pretty interesting. It was for the maximum amount, and it was drawn in a town called Vincentville, almost an hour’s drive north of Augusta.”
“What makes it so interesting?” Sunny asked.
“The date,” Will replied. “According to Vane, on the day in question he was supposed to be out in the Gulf of Maine.”
“Could it be a case of identity theft?” Sunny suggested.
“It’s long enough ago that Vane would have gotten a statement—and should have noticed that there was a hole where that money should be. Just to be sure, I checked to see if the bank has anything on its security cameras. I also checked to see what was going on in Vincentville that would drag Vane so far inland. Went over the local newspapers and such and did find one item.”
Will smiled. “On that date, Vincentville had a gun show.”
16
Sunny stopped petting Shadow. “You think that’s where the guns in Charlie Vane’s house came from?”
“Well, some of them, I figure,” Will said. “I expect he might have made himself a little conspicuous, buying an arsenal like that at a single gun show. Although there is some evidence he may have been using straw buyers up in Vincentville.”
“Straw buyers?” Sunny frowned.
“That’s a nice way of saying phoney-baloney buyers—people who step in to make a purchase for somebody who may have bad credit, or maybe a criminal record—or maybe just to hide the identity of the real buyer.”
“I know that,” Sunny told him. “What I was wondering about is how you dug up any evidence.”
Will shrugged. “A friend of a friend. Or maybe I should say someone who owes a favor to an old state police buddy of mine. The guy owing the favor had a table at the Vincentville gun show. He went through his papers and found that he had a customer from Kittery Harbor.”
“Somebody who wasn’t Charlie Vane,” Sunny said. “Kind of a coincidence, two people from our little town both being so far away in those parts.”
“It will be a bit more trouble, trying to look at the records of other sellers—”
“Guys who don’t owe favors,” Sunny put in.
“But my bet is we’ll find several other names from this part of the woods buying up guns there,” Will finished. “At last we got one of them.”
“And who is this fine, upstanding citizen?” Sunny asked.
“One Delbert Scabetti, according to the paperwork for the gun he bought. Local police records show he’s got the colorful nickname of ‘Scab.’ While he’s done a lot of borderline illegal stuff, he hasn’t been convicted of a felony, which means he’s still legal to own or buy guns.”
Will grinned. “Best of all, we have a good chance of catching up with him right now. He may not be a pillar of the community, but he spends a lot of time propping up the bar at O’Dowd’s.”
O’Dowd’s was the diviest dive bar in Kittery Harbor, the center of a little patch of urban blight at the edge of the old downtown district.
“We figured on going down there tonight and asking a few questions,” Will went on.
“We who?” Sunny wanted to know.
“Val and myself,” he replied. “I think she’s more than capable of handling that joint.”
“And I’m not?” Sunny said. “I’ve been in there a couple of times since I came back to town, for business and pleasure.”
“You don’t have to,” Will began, but Sunny cut him off.
“What, I’m only good for sweet-talking information out of suspects like Charlie Vane and Neil? If this Scab guy can throw some light on whatever Vane was doing that got him killed, I want to hear it.”
She got up and went to get her coat, Will reluctantly following—especially since Shadow jumped to the floor and took a fighting stance, making unpleasant noises at Will.
“This is
unfair,” Will muttered. “He’s blaming me for your pigheaded behavior.”
“Hey, I’m sorry, little guy.” Sunny picked up the cat and brought him to the kitchen. She placed him beside his bowls and knelt to stroke his fur. “I won’t be gone long—promise. I’ll come home soon, and then we’ll have some time together.”
Shadow made a little sound of protest, but he didn’t follow Sunny as she went to rejoin Will standing at the kitchen door. Still, his tail wig-wagged a mournful message as he watched her go.
Outside, she turned expectantly to Will. “What’s the plan?”
“We go to pick up Val, and then off to O’Dowd’s.”
They had a quiet drive into town. Will apparently wasn’t in the mood for conversation after what Sunny had told him—and how she’d insisted on tagging along. Val Overton stood by the front door of the motel, hurrying out when they arrived. It was a close fit as she squeezed in beside Sunny on the pickup’s front seat.
“Hi, Sunny. Didn’t expect to see you.” Val reached into her shoulder bag and brought out a can of beer. “There should be more than enough for the three of us.”
Sunny stared. “For what?”
“Let’s call it, oh, verisimilitude.” Val popped the top on the can and offered it to Sunny. “Take a mouthful and swish it around. Having beer on our breath will make it look as though we’ve been bouncing around to different joints in town.”
Will nodded as Sunny took a sip. Then he reached over for the can, raised it to his lips, and took a healthy swig, his cheeks working like the guy in the mouthwash ad.
Only this is sort of the opposite, Sunny thought as she worked the beer around in her mouth. Will swallowed, and so did Sunny. Val grinned and emptied the can. “Now we’re set,” she said.
Will started the truck, and they headed downtown.
“Has Will been keeping you in the loop on the investigation?” Val asked, her beery breath fogging the window.
“As much as he can, I guess,” Sunny replied. “Looks as if you’ve run out of suspects.”
Catch as Cat Can Page 17