“Spoken like the big city girl you are.” He winked to take the sting out of his words, but I wasn’t having it. I glared him down until he leaned closer and added, “Look. You think I don’t get the same pressures you do? Good-looking hometown boy back from military service and with a good job? I must be looking to settle down and start a family, right?” He shook his head. “All I’m trying to do is figure out if I can stay here long-term or not, but every time I turn around someone wants me to meet their daughter or niece or neighbor.”
“Good-looking, huh?” I teased.
“Compared to the competition. Or so I’m told.” He adjusted the gun belt at his waist, not meeting my eye. “I’m actually here on official business. Sort of.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Mr. Jackson’s daughter was worried about not being able to reach him after I called. They didn’t talk often, but that was on her not him. He always returned her calls within a day. So when she couldn’t get ahold of him, she got worried and flew out here.”
“And? Did he split town? Do you think he’s the one who murdered Jack?”
Matt shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Well, because odds are two people didn’t suddenly snap at the same time and decide to kill someone.”
“He’s dead?” I glanced around to see if anyone had heard me, but Jamie had made herself scarce. Not surprising since she was as bad as Gloria when it came to wanting to see me settled down. “Where did you find him?”
“His daughter found him. In the kitchen. She had a spare key.”
I winced, remembering how I’d tried to open the back door. At least I’d used my sleeve so I hadn’t left any prints, but that might’ve wiped away someone else’s prints…And I had left a bunch of muddy shoe prints all around the perimeter…
Looked like this was going to be another dog-peeing-on-a-dead-body moment.
“Was he shot, too?” I asked.
“No. Baseball bat. That’s actually why I’m here.” He glanced around. “We’re going to have to take your grandpa in for questioning again. I wanted to tell you before we did because it would be a really good time for that alibi of his to come forward.”
“Why do you have to question him again? It’s not like my grandpa’s the only one with a baseball bat in town.”
He winced. “No. But he’s the only one with a bat engraved with his name and ‘Thanks for 25 Years of Service’ on it.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Let me guess. He kept his baseball bats in his unlocked truck, too?”
“That’s what I’m assuming.”
What was I going to do now? My grandpa wasn’t just the suspect in one murder, he was the suspect in two. And I could see the rationale as clearly as anyone. That he killed Jack out of anger and then Mr. Jackson because he’d seen something he shouldn’t.
“This just keeps getting worse,” I muttered.
“I know. I’ll also need to talk to you at some point about the last time you saw Mr. Jackson. We’re trying to figure out exactly when he might’ve been killed. It’s been at least a few days.”
“Okay. Yeah. Sure.” I shook myself, trying to get my mind moving again. “Does my grandpa know? About Mr. Jackson? And the bat?”
Matt shrugged one shoulder. “A little hard to miss the coroner’s van and the three police cars out front. But he doesn’t know about the bat. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him. Only reason I’m here instead of there is because I figured you’d have enough sense to call him a lawyer instead of letting him rely on the truth to save him.”
“So he needs a lawyer now?”
“It’d be a good idea. Mason Maxwell is the best one in the county and he lives just outside of Creek. Here’s his cell. If I drive slow enough you should be able to get ahold of him and get him to your grandpa’s house before I get there.”
I took the card he handed me, flipping it over and over as I thought through everything that had to happen now. I hated being powerless, but so much of this was out of my control.
Matt clearly wanted to leave, but he hesitated, looking back at me.
“Thank you. For everything,” I told him.
“Anytime. I’ll do what I can for him, Maggie. If it weren’t for your grandpa I probably wouldn’t be alive today. And if I were, I’d probably be behind bars.”
I nodded as he gave Fancy one last pat on the head and left. He really was a good man. And a good-looking one, too. How inconvenient.
Chapter Seventeen
I called the lawyer. He was sharp. I could tell just from the three minutes we spent on the phone. No fluff, no dithering, just what happened, who’s involved, where do I need to go, I’m on my way now, goodbye.
Then I called my grandpa. I’d promised Matt I wouldn’t tell him anything about the details of the murder, but I figured he better know that a lawyer was headed to his house and why.
To say he was not happy with the fact that I’d called a lawyer is an understatement. He used a few words I’d never heard before—and I’ve heard quite a few colorful words over the years; my first job was at a skydiving center with a lot of sports jumpers from all over the world passing through. It was an interesting education in multi-lingual cusswords. Among other things.
I finally had to play the worried granddaughter card on him to get him to calm down and agree to let the man represent him. (First, though, I had to acknowledge—three times—that after forty-plus years living in Creek it was absolutely ridiculous that anyone could believe my grandpa capable of killing not just one man, but two.)
After that, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
There was no point going home since my grandpa would be at the jail with Matt and the lawyer. Fortunately, things at the barkery picked up just enough that I couldn’t leave Jamie alone, so I tried to put thoughts of what was happening back in Creek aside as I smiled and helped each customer who came through the door.
Fancy knew something was off, though. She kept standing up and crying at me until I finally had to put her out back in the dog run. Poor girl. She was just trying to help, but the crying got on my last nerve and I didn’t want to take my fear out on her.
(I felt so guilty I ended up sneaking her three Doggie Delights before closing time finally rolled around.)
As soon as the clock struck four I locked the doors with a firm thunk and turned to Jamie. “You have time for a beer? It’s been a day.”
“Of course.” She wiped down the counter on the café side as she answered, never one to stop unless she had to.
“Don’t ‘of course’ me. When you get going with a guy you can sometimes disappear for months.” I opened the small fridge I kept for personal beverages and grabbed two Wooly Boogers—sounds disgusting but they’re a yummy nut brown ale made by Grand Lake Brewing Company—and headed out back, Jamie following along behind me with the bottle opener.
She opened the beers while I sat on the ground with Fancy for a minute and apologized for having to lock her outside. Fortunately, Fancy’s idea of being mad at me involved barking a little lecture and then licking my face and stepping all over me until I’d petted her enough to show that I really was sorry.
After that was done I joined Jamie on the bench and took a long sip of my beer. I savored the taste as I looked at the tops of the trees swaying in a slight breeze, the mountains looming behind them on the horizon. As bad as things were, at least I had this moment, sitting outside after work with my best friend and my dog, a good beer in hand, surrounded by the beauty of the valley.
“I don’t always disappear into relationships,” Jamie finally said when it was clear I wasn’t going to say anything.
“No? Tell me the last one where that didn’t happen. Where you weren’t practically living with the guy by the end of the first month of dating him.”
She thought about it for a minute. “There was Neal.”
“Neal? The guy from France that you dated for
two weeks before he had to go back home?”
“Yeah. See, I didn’t lose myself in a relationship with him.” She took a sip of her beer as I shook my head.
“No, but you did talk about what it would be like to live in Paris. You even looked at one-way airfares, if I recall correctly. Probably would’ve gone if I hadn’t pulled you back from the ledge.”
Fancy came over and lay down so close her foot was touching mine. Poor girl. I really must’ve stressed her out. She likes to stay close, but never that close. I rubbed her back for a second, listening to birds singing somewhere nearby.
Jamie elbowed me. “Speaking of men…Was that Matt Barnes I saw in the barkery today? Looks pretty good in a uniform if it was, but he just moved back to town from overseas. He doesn’t own a dog, does he?”
I took a long swig of beer. Jamie and my grandpa should form a club. The Busybodies Club. “He was here on business.” Because I wasn’t quite ready to tell her what business, I added, “You know, he’s single. And a helluva lot better man than Luke.”
“Are you seriously trying to set me up with him?”
“Sure. Why not? He’s good-looking, he’s smart, he’s kind, he’s…”
“Yours.”
I lurched to the side, scaring Fancy to her feet. “What?”
Fancy settled a few feet away with a huff of annoyance.
Jamie laughed. “Matt’s been yours since we were kids.”
“No he hasn’t. We hardly know each other.” I crossed my arms and glared at the mountains, thinking darkly about the disadvantages of living in a small town.
“You wrote his name on your wall when you were five.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I swore to myself I was going to go home as soon as I finished my beer and remove that name from the wall once and for all; I didn’t care if I had to burn down my grandpa’s house to make it happen.
“You used permanent marker.”
“So? I was five. Do you think that was some sort of deliberate choice I made? Please.”
Jamie laughed. “Do you know that my mom told me that when we were all babies. Not even talking yet, I mean, barely crawling. That our mothers put us all down to play and I crawled over to Matt and you crawled over there right away and shoved yourself between us? You couldn’t even speak yet, but you’d already claimed him.”
“And because over thirty years ago, when I was a baby, I pushed you out of the way, you won’t go near him now? That’s ridiculous. I’ve always hated girl dibs. You know that. He’s yours if you want him. Go for him.”
She laughed. “No point. He only has eyes for you, Maggie.”
I choked on my beer. “Don’t be absurd. There’s nothing like that there. The only reason we’re talking at all is because he has two murders to investigate. Plus, you know me. I don’t do relationships well.”
“That’s because you’ve always been in love with Matt.” She tapped her beer against mine. “And when you finally give up and acknowledge that fact I am not going to be the one standing between you.”
She downed the last of her beer with a smug smile as I brooded. Rather than continue what had become a completely ridiculous conversation, I finally told her why Matt had been there that day.
“Oh your poor grandpa. At least you got Mason Maxwell to represent him. That man is amazing. I don’t know why he lives up here and isn’t dominating the courtrooms of some big city, but if anyone can get your grandpa out of this mess, it’s Maxwell.”
“He did seem pretty sharp when I talked to him, but if they don’t have any other suspects I don’t know what he can actually do. I mean, the bat and the gun were both my grandpa’s. If it wasn’t him, who hates him enough to frame him like that?”
“Didn’t you say he had a secret lady friend? With a husband?”
“Who killed two men just to get back at my grandpa? Wouldn’t it be easier to just shoot my grandpa instead? I mean, granted, the guy would’ve known about my grandpa doing prison time. But he’s also really ill. I doubt he’s physically capable of killing two people.”
“So if your grandpa’s not the target, then the two men who were killed were. What do they have in common?”
“Nothing except proximity to my grandpa. And maybe pot.”
“Pot? That’s legal now. Why bother killing someone over it?”
I told her everything I knew, because whether she wanted to admit it or not she had been a little caught up in Luke lately and we really hadn’t had a chance to talk about any of this. But even after we’d talked through it we were no closer to finding a suspect to give the police.
As we sat there and watched the sun sink behind the mountains, Jamie asked, “Do you remember when we were little and they found that escaped criminal living in that cave up the mountain behind your grandpa’s house?”
I nodded. Before the cops had found him, the local kids had. We’d snuck up to the cave and looked at the stacks of canned food and the dirty sleeping bag spread on the ground, daring one another to go inside until we heard a branch break in the woods somewhere nearby and ran away screaming.
“You think that’s what it could be? Some weird survivalist living up in the woods who didn’t want anyone to get too close? I mean, it’s possible that whatever was being grown down in that valley wasn’t pot after all. And that whoever was living down there in that cabin really didn’t like being bothered by anyone…”
Jamie ran to grab us each another beer while I thought about it. If that’s who it was, then there was really only one way to know…
She handed me a beer and the opener. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“About what?”
“About going to check that cave. If there really is some crazy psycho running around up there, the last thing you need to do is to cross paths with him. You’re smarter than that.”
I bit my lip. “He probably wouldn’t shoot a woman. And he probably doesn’t have his own weapons since the gun and the bat came from my grandpa’s truck.”
“You going to bet your life on that? And what if he decided to kidnap you instead of shoot you?”
I laughed. “Please. Last time some weird mountain man kidnapped a random girl in the forest was something like thirty years ago.”
“That you know about. Just because they don’t make TV movies about it anymore doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”
I took a sip of my beer.
“Don’t be stupid, Maggie.”
“I’d have Fancy with me. She’s like…a bear.”
Jamie snorted as we both looked down at Fancy who’d rolled over on her back and had her front two paws thrust into the sky as she snored away. “Yeah, somehow I can’t picture the Fanster doing much more than licking the guy to death.”
“She might bark at him first. Make him run away.”
“What if he shot her instead? You don’t want that.”
I chewed on my thumbnail as I thought about it. As much as I hated to admit it, Jamie was right. But someone had to find this killer. And soon.
Chapter Eighteen
My grandpa still wasn’t home by the time I left the barkery and drove to Creek. It was weird to step into that dark, empty house. I’d never been there alone before. And it had never felt so cold and abandoned. There was a roast chicken going in the slow cooker, but I didn’t know whether to go ahead and eat or to wait for him.
I was starving, but if he was going to be back soon then I’d wait. But the only way to know that was to call the jail and ask. And who was going to tell me the truth? Matt was probably interrogating my grandpa and no one else would have a reason to let me know anything about anything, especially if it was Officer Clark who answered.
I was just about to leave Fancy to walk down to the jail and see what I could see when the front door opened and my grandpa came in, muttering to himself as he disappeared down the hallway. He was followed by a man who was immaculately dressed in what I like to think of as country club casual—nicely pressed
slacks and what was probably a very expensive cashmere sweater. He had salt and pepper hair and a fierce intelligence that evaluated me and Fancy in the space of a few seconds.
Fancy, who normally would’ve seen a new man in the doorway and gone over to say hi, stayed right where she was, frozen by the warning look he gave her.
“That’s an impressive trick,” I told him as I walked over, nodding towards where she watched him, still unmoving.
“You just have to show them who’s the alpha. Dogs are pack animals.”
I raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything more about it. “You must be Mason Maxwell. I’m Maggie Carver. Nice to meet you.”
“And you.” His handshake was firm, almost aggressive, but not quite.
“Would you care to join us for dinner? I’m sure my grandpa’s as starved as I am and there’s a chicken ready in the slow cooker.”
“You two go ahead and eat. I’ll eat at home. But I would like to talk about a few items with you before I leave.”
I studied him for a moment, trying to read what was going on behind that chiseled exterior, but I drew a blank. The man was completely unreadable. How odd.
My grandpa returned, still muttering to himself. “I’m hungry. Mason, you staying or going?” He walked right past us into the kitchen and started throwing down plates for all three of us. (Not the china, though. And not in the dining room, but at the small table in the kitchen.)
“He’s not eating with us, Grandpa. But he did want to talk to us about a few things.”
My grandpa grumbled to himself as he put back one of the plates. “You going to at least let me give you something to drink?” he demanded. “I’m not much of a drinker anymore, but I’ve still got a nice bottle of scotch around here if you’re interested.”
I silently prayed that Maxwell would at least accept the scotch. I was afraid that if he said he was fine or that he just wanted a water that my grandpa would direct all the stress and anxiety of the day at the one person he probably needed most to help him make it through this mess.
A Dead Man and Doggie Delights Page 9