Blood Ties (27 page)

David LaChance’s peace of mind was no longer our problem. But, I doubted Kevin or I would let this rest until we’d found ours.

I’d barely slammed the door when the phone rang.

Kevin scooted his chair back to the proper position and picked up the receiver.

He signaled to me to sit, punching the speakerphone button. Jimmer’s voice boomed. “Hey. You guys trying to piss off everyone in town?”

“What?”

“Heard from Harvey today, in person. He’s still pissed off at you, little missy, because Helen up and quit.”

I bit back a smile. “Not my fault.”

“Actually, I should thank you because after he came in, 285

he left with not one, but two new, very expensive knives.”

“See? I am good for business.”

“But,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, “it
is
your fault Tony Martinez called me, chewing my ass, wondering what it’d take to get you two to lay off this case.”

My eyes locked with Kevin’s. “We haven’t done anything.”

Jimmer snorted. “Yeah, right. Seems your names have been cursed all over town. Dick’s head mechanic, Tommy Stahl, came in yesterday, supposedly looking for some Black Hills Gold earrings for his old lady, but I think he was fi shing for info on you guys.”

“Sounds like your day was as fun-fi lled as ours,”

Kevin muttered, reaching for his squishy stress reliever ball perched on top of the pile of manila fi le folders.

I took a wild guess. “Gotten a call from Danny Christopherson and Mike Lawrence yet?”

“No. Haven’t seen those fags since last year’s antelope season.”

Apparently my “gaydar” hadn’t been functioning at all if homophobe Jimmer knew the truth about them. “Th ey

customers of yours?”

“Yep.

Th

eir money ain’t queer, even if they are.”

I smiled and was about to ask about Charles LaChance and Troy James’ buying habits when Jimmer groused,

“Ready to hear conversation number
four
I had on your behalf today?”

286

“Bring it on.”

“Interesting, you should bring up that group. I had a chat with another old friend of yours.”

“Who?” Kevin asked.

“Bobby

Adair.”

“
We
weren’t friends with him,” I said, “you were.”

“Don’t matter. He’s been in a lot lately, buying me out of damn near every kind of ammo. We got to shooting the shit and your names came up.”

“In what context?”

“Th

at’s the weird thing. He asked me what the hell I was doing hanging around wannabe losers like you two.”

“Seriously?” I said, watching Kevin.

He shrugged, tossing the ball in the air.

“Yeah,” Jimmer continued, “then he went off on this tangent that you two shouldn’t be running around playing cops. It oughta be left to the real pros. Went on and on that it was too bad everything wasn’t run like the military.”

Jimmer hawked out something nasty and spit it close to the receiver. “Th

at Bobby’s turned into a freak show, regardless if he’s a repeat customer.”

I scowled at the phone. “Why does he think the military is so great?”

“Are you kidding? Th

e man was like super-commando

during the Gulf War. Got every medal imaginable. Friend of mine claimed Bobby had Saddam by the throat but they made him let Saddam go. Fucking pity.”

287

Kevin said, “Jimmer, how do you know all this?”

“Guys talk. Like I said, he’s a good customer. But, he ain’t got a lotta good to say about you guys. What did you do to piss him off ?”

I wracked my brain to think of something I said or did that might’ve off ended him. Angering people seemed to be another of my special traits, but I’d been fuming over his racist comments and had barely said two words. He and Kevin and Father Tim had done all the talking.

“I don’t know why,” Kevin admitted. “He seemed fi ne on Sunday although he’s never been real friendly. Might’ve been something that happened in high school. People around here carry grudges for a long time.”

“Don’t I know it. Well, I’d watch out. Rumor has it he got tossed out of the service for assault with a deadly weapon.”

“What was the weapon?” I asked, picturing various tools.

“His

hands.”

“Honorable or dishonorable discharge?” Kevin asked, ever the consummate professional PI on top of scenarios I hadn’t even considered.

“Honorable. Guess the only reason he didn’t get the dishonorable was because the prostitute he beat the shit out of didn’t die.” Jimmer’s voice lowered. “Julie, you’d better stay the hell away from him. And Harvey. Hell, Tony Martinez too. I’m not kidding. Sounds like all those fuckers are out for a piece of you.”

288

A crash reverberated though the speaker. “Shit, those kids are skateboarding in here again. I gotta go.”

Th

e dial tone echoed until Kevin shut it off .

“Th

at was interesting.” He’d barely gotten the words out when the phone trilled again. Kevin answered, spinning his chair toward the window.

He needn’t have bothered. I tuned him out, assuming the caller was Lilly. I couldn’t stand to listen to him become all soft and sweet, especially when he hadn’t been that way with me for days.

Instead, I righted the tiny picture on the back wall.

While this piece would never be misconstrued as art, it was fascinating, one of those types of pictures you stared at until some hidden image emerged. Th

e thing irritated the

crap out of me, not only because it’d been a gift to Kevin from Lilly; it was highly embarrassing to admit I’d yet to see the supposed image. So, why did I bother looking? I chalked it up to another masochistic trait I inherited from my father.

I turned back and found Kevin staring through the picture. Th

e receiver was back in the cradle. “What?”

He refocused on me. “Th

at was Sergeant Schneider

from the Rapid City Police Department. Seems they’ve had a break in Samantha’s case.”

My heart did a little happy roll. “Yeah? Th at’s good

news. What’d they fi nd?”

“Strangely enough, we’re the ones that found it. Th e

289

knife in my Jeep tire had traces of blood. Human blood, so they ran samples and matched it to Samantha’s.”

“No

shit?”

“It gets better. Th

ey’re pretty sure the knife belongs, or belonged to Dick Friel. One of his employees identifi ed it.

Th

e sheriff ’s department brought Dick in for questioning.”

“Is he still there?”

“No. He’s under suspicion, not arrest. Th ey let him go.”

Okay, I should’ve been doing somersaults. A signifi -

cant break in the case meant Samantha’s death wouldn’t go unsolved like Ben’s. Which is what I wanted. Factor in the joyous fact that punch-happy Dick was the new suspect and I should’ve been fl ipping cartwheels. He’d held the top position on my list since day one.

So, why wasn’t I cheering and planning a victory drunk?

Simple.

I no longer believed Dick Friel was guilty.

“Julie?”

I guessed my skepticism showed. “Doesn’t it seem a little convenient that the missing murder weapon suddenly appears?”

“It happens more that you think. People get careless.

Or lazy.”

“I mean, come on, I’ll admit Dick is lazy, but he’s not
that
stupid. If he killed Sam, he’d basically gotten away with it. Why would he screw up now?”

Kevin placed his fi nger in his ear and wiggled it around.

290

“Excuse me? You’re telling me now you
don’t
believe Dick is guilty?”

“No way was Dick the one shooting at us that day.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You convinced me the person shooting at us was up on that ridge. Can you see Dick hauling his fat ass up that cliff in the middle of a workday? All the police have to do is check his alibi.”

“Th

ey did. He was out of the shop all afternoon Monday. Besides, he could’ve hired someone to shoot at us and stick the knife in my tire.”

I reached for my cigarettes. “Doesn’t make sense.

Shooting at us and planting evidence against himself is the last thing he’d do. Th

ink about it.”

Kevin’s jaw tightened and his stress-relief ball bounced across the desk blotter. “Well, since you seem to have all the answers, who did it? Th

en, I can call Sergeant Schneider

back and tell him you solved the case.”

Heat rushed to my face. I’m not usually on the receiving end of Kevin’s scathing comments. “I think we should look harder at the Charles LaChance-Mike Lawrence-Danny Christopher-Troy James angle.” I exhaled, but didn’t expound on my reasons. “Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. Th

at’s not our job, remember? Let’s

leave it up to the experts.”

“So, if Pennington County has FBI experts on hand, why is Sergeant Schneider giving you a heads up? Especially 291

when your part of the case is done?”

“Th

ey
asked
the Feds on this case, so as a courtesy everyone has access to all information. Even a piss-ant like me.”

I rolled my eyes when the phone rang again.

Th

e call was brief and after it ended Kevin was on his feet. “Sorry. I’ve got to run. You going home?”

“Didn’t plan on it.”

“Why not? You’re not working at the sheriff ’s offi ce

later?”

“No. I just . . .” I looked away, my embarrassment back. Kevin wouldn’t understand my recent hatred of an empty house. He had the option of calling Lilly. I had the option of calling no one but him. And, he wasn’t home often enough to suit my tastes anymore. I glanced back at him but couldn’t force a smile or think of a snappy retort.

His gaze turned shrewd. “Ray hasn’t been by again, has he?”

I shook my head. “Since I’ve got nothing going on, you want me to tag along?”

“No, that’s fi ne. I can handle it.”

I tried the tactic that always worked: “I could use the extra cash.”

“Another time perhaps.” He busied himself reorganiz-ing his tidy desk.

Either his appointment involved Lilly or he didn’t want me to meet some highbrow client. Either way, I felt 292

like he’d taken another shot at me. Guess as a low level employee I was relegated to the shitty jobs that kept me up at night.

I tossed his lock pick on his desk and left.

Since the incident with Ray, I’d avoided going into Dusty’s. I needed a shot and was tired of drinking alone.

On the spur of the moment, I drove to Fat Bob’s. Four o’clock in the afternoon seemed the perfect time to fi nd out what Tony knew about Dick’s situation. Besides, I was probably safe from Harvey; the man couldn’t work twenty-four/seven.

Wrong.

Th

e minute I stepped into the nearly empty bar, Harvey was on me like a bloodhound.

“Ms. Collins,” he said without a hint of humor. “Lovely as it is to see you, you know you’re not allowed in here.”

“I need to talk to Tony.”

“I think you’re the last person he wants to see.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Th

en, he knows about Dick?”

294

He nodded and took a step forward.

I stepped back, just as he’d intended. I tried a kewpie doll smile and an innocent shrug. I stopped short at batting my lashes. Didn’t want to overdo it. “Come on. Have a heart. It’s important that I explain some things to him.”

“I

don’t.”

Had my dazzling demeanor somehow confused him?

Because he wasn’t making sense. “You don’t what?”

“Have a heart. Now, get out before I prove it.”

“It’s okay,” Tony said from behind me. “I’ll talk to her outside.”

I blew Harvey a kiss but I wasn’t stupid enough to turn my back on him as I shuffl

ed out the door.

Tony walked to a rickety pine picnic table by the Dumpster. He didn’t sit, or gesture for me to do so. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest, bit down on the toothpick in his mouth, and waited.

Big bravado. I suddenly lacked it. I shivered, not against the chilly afternoon, but from the contempt darkening Tony’s eyes. “I just found out about Dick.”

“I’m sure you’re happy as shit. Got exactly what you wanted.” He paused; his gaze raked over me sending another shudder down my spine. “Did you come here to gloat, blondie? Or, are you now trying to pin Shelley’s suicide on him too?”

Not the time to mention Shelley’s death hadn’t been suicide. “No. But it doesn’t make sense. Why would 295

Shelley . . .”

“Screw Shelley. It’s her fault Dick is under suspicion for Samantha’s murder. Like I said before, he didn’t do it.”

I held his eyes. “I know.”

Tony thoughtfully chewed the toothpick, making it bounce up and down against his full lips. “Why the sudden change? Weren’t you the one trying to convince me he killed Sam? Now, the cops buy your theory? And they’ve got evidence, found on your partner’s vehicle, to back it up?”

“How do you know all this? We only heard a little while ago.”

“You didn’t come here for that information, did you?”

Part of me didn’t want to know how Tony gleaned his knowledge. “I came here because I think Dick is being set up and I wondered what you were doing about it.”

He gave me indignant. “Why would
I
do anything?”

“Because it’d be bad business not to. And, you told me everything with him was about business, remember?

You really want him hanging in the cop shop, infl uenced by law enforcement offi

cials who might convince him
they

could see to his interests better than you? Th ey turn guys

like Dick for kicks. I imagine the DEA would love the inside scoop on your operation.”

Maybe that was why the Feds had been interested in this case. I leaned close enough that my hair fl uttered against his black leather vest. “So, ‘fess up on how you’re handling this 296

because you’re not the stupid type to ignore it.”

A

car

backfi red, but I managed not to jump as Tony measured me in utter silence.