No One Else to Kill (Jim West Series) (22 page)

“I’m innocent,” I said.

“I believe it,” she said. “That’s your problem.”

“I’m not that innocent,” I said.

“Believe me, you are.”

I didn’t know where the conversation was going, but I
didn’t need it.
 
“Been busy this
afternoon?”

“Only those two and they’ve been hitting the booze
seriously.”
 
She pointed to Griffith and
Stallings seated in the far corner.

“They don’t look too happy.”

“They aren’t.
 
They
look like two angry dogs ready to bite the nearest mailman.”
 
She looked at me like the warning was meant
for me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t mess with them.”

“Can I buy you a beer?”

“Is everything still free?” I asked.

“No, I just wanted to know if I could buy you a beer.”

“Sure,” I said and moved to a seat at the bar.
 
The door to the nearby office opened, and
Rick came out holding the arm of a tall, slender woman.
 
She wore khaki slacks and a red sweater.
 
Her hair was an unashamed grey.
 
They appeared very comfortable together as
they moved to a table close by.

“Yes, that’s Mrs. Rick,” Bev whispered in a sour
tone.
 
“She rarely comes in here.”

It sounded like Bev didn’t like the competition,
legitimate or not, coming into her space.

“Bev,” Rick called to her.

Bev hustled over, took some drink orders, and went back to
work behind the bar.
 
I watched in
amusement. She returned to Rick’s table with a Scotch on the rocks and an Old
Fashioned.

“Hope you got those right,” I said to her in jest when she
returned. She gave me a ‘stuff it’ look and walked down to the end of the bar
to ask the two men if they were doing all right.

“Hey, Bev,” Rick called again and Bev went over to his
table.
 
She came back carrying the Old
Fashion.
 
I suddenly wished I hadn’t said
anything before.
 
She looked at me, and I
realized that I might be taking a big risk by saying anything more.
 
She dumped the drink into the sink and poured
a glass of chardonnay which she then took to Rick’s wife.

“Witch,” she mumbled softly to me when she returned.
 
“There wasn’t anything wrong with that
drink.”

“Does she suspect anything?”

“I hope not.”
 
She
turned away from me and walked to a spot about ten feet away where she fiddled
with a few bottles and glasses.

“Bev,” I said. “I’m sorry. I had no right to ask.”

“It’s not you.
 
I
sometimes wonder whom I’m fooling.”

“Let’s talk about something else.
 
Did the police interview you today about the
incident last night?”

“No, not really, I mean one of the deputies asked me if I
had heard anything or knew anything about the incident that I wanted to talk
about.
 
I said no, and that was it.”

“I only ask because they seemed to have pulled in a lot of
us for further questioning.”

“I know.
 
That’s
been the main point of conversation down there.”
 
She motioned with her head toward Griffith
and Stallings.

“It’s only natural for them to be a little hyper by
now.
 
Their whole lives have been
affected by this.”

“So has everyone else’s,” she said.

“I know, but more so with them.
 
I imagine they’re taking it personally by
now.”

“Do you think they’re involved?”

“Could be.”

“When I think too much about it, I get a little
frightened.”

“Me, too.
 
That’s normal.”

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the frightened
type.”

“This drink tastes stale,” Rick’s wife had walked up
behind me.
 
She held the glass out for
Bev to take.
 
The two women’s eyes
met.
 
She may not have known about her
husband’s infidelity, but she obviously sensed something because the animosity
that surrounded her was palpable.

“I’m sorry,” Bev said.
 
Even I could tell she didn’t mean it. “May I pour you something out of
another bottle?”

“No, but I do mean to speak to my husband about this.”

I looked back and saw that Rick had gone off to a corner
and was talking on his phone.

“Witch,” Bev whispered again when Rick’s wife had gotten
back to her table.

“I wonder what he sees in
her?
”
 
I asked purely to support Bev.

“Who knows?”

“His daughter seemed nice.”

“She’s a doll.
 
Did
you meet her in the restaurant?”

“Yes.”
 
I felt like
asking Bev if maybe the daughter had heard some gossip from the other, younger
employees, and had said something to her mother. However, I decided the whole
topic might be best to avoid.

“There they go,” she said.
 
I turned and saw Rick and his wife leave the lodge.

“Hey,” shouted Stallings from the corner, “another
round!”
 
He held his empty glass up in
the air.

“Coming right up,” Bev shouted back with a smile.

I wouldn’t have been as polite, but she knew how to treat
rowdy customers.
 
Besides, I didn’t like
any of those guys anymore.

I watched Bev walk over to the two.
 
When she placed the drinks on the table,
Stallings reached behind her. From my angle, I couldn’t see where he placed his
hand, but Bev’s quick reaction in knocking it away and stepping back out of
range gave me a pretty good idea. Her smile disappeared.

“Hey! Keep your hands to yourself or get out.”

“Sorry,
ma’am,
must be the
booze.
 
Didn’t mean anything by it,”
Stallings held both of his hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“You okay, Bev?” I asked.
 
I had walked over to their table.

“Yes, let’s go sit down somewhere.” She grabbed my arm,
but I didn’t budge.

I glared at the two men.

“You know, Mark here thinks you might actually be the guy
that killed Benson, but I tell him he’s got it all wrong.
 
I told him you’re a cop or maybe a
snitch.
 
You look like a snitch,”
Griffith said.

“Please, Jim,” Bev tugged at my arm.

“I wouldn’t bet against Mark’s opinion, little man, and if
he’s right you might want to think about
who’s
next.”

I let Bev pull me away.

“Now why did you say that?” she whispered to me as we went
to the far end of the bar.

“I guess it was kind of childish,” I smiled, “but it was
either slug one of them or say something stupid.
 
Stupid won out.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t start a fight.”

“I kind of wish I did,” I said.

“Maybe we both ought to jump into your car and drive away
for good,” she said.

I smiled at her. “Maybe we should.”
 
Of course we didn’t, and I sometimes still
regret that we didn’t.

 
returned
to my
room.
 
My cell phone buzzed, and it
surprised me to see a Virginia area code.

“Hello,” I said.

“Jim, it’s me, Stu.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.
 
I wanted to
call and apologize, and if you’re available, I was thinking I could come out
there this Thursday.
 
We could have our
vacation one week late.”

“No can do, Stu.
 
I’m still here at the lodge having the time of my life.
 
Sorry you missed it.”

He paused, and I figured he was trying to see if I was
pulling his leg or not.

“Are you really still there at the lodge?”

“Yes.
 
It’s
beautiful here and ever so peaceful.
Haven’t slept so well in
years.”

“Well that makes me feel better.
 
I was starting to feel guilty.”

“You can still feel guilty.”

“Maybe in a few months,” he said.

“Yeah, but next time you fly in to Clovis, and we’ll drive
up together.”

“That’s a deal, man.
 
I’ll call you in a few months.”

I hung up and wondered if my phone could be programmed to
ignore calls from certain numbers.
 
I lay
back on my bed and tried to picture how Stu would have handled all that had
happened at the lodge if he had come out. On the positive side, we could’ve
bunked Stu and Sean together, and Colt would’ve had even a bigger chance to
excel.

Having disposed of Stu by putting him with the
Bettes
boys, I thought about Bev and her predicament.
 
Women have been having affairs with married
men forever, and vice versa, but I still felt sorry for the people that got
hurt in those love triangles.
 
I
acknowledged that there could be a million variables that ultimately led to a
woman being attracted to a married man, and I knew fixing fault could be
complicated, but in this case I felt sorry for Bev.

Logic did not factor into my feelings. I liked her and
felt she could do better.
 
Colt
Bettes
would probably say she had low self-esteem or some
other character flaw.
 
I just wished she
would move on to some guy who could give her a future, and no, I wasn’t
thinking of myself.

Maybe screwed up relationships and lives were the norm,
and those couples that managed to stick together were the anomalies.
 
Life had become so free and easy that people
actually expected to be happy; working hard for anything anymore was definitely
not commonplace.

This time my room phone rang and brought my mind back to
the present.
 
I wondered if I had been
dozing.

“Jim,
it’s
Colt.
 
Can I buy you dinner?”

“I’m not really that hungry,” I lied.
 
I’m always hungry.

“I’m sorry if I got pushy earlier today.
 
I mean it.
 
The dinner is to make it up to you, and to give me a few minutes to
explain what I have figured out.”

Okay, he had me there. “You’re talking about here in the
dining room?”

“Yes, I’m down in the lobby now if you’d like to come
down.”

“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be down.”

I ran some water over my face and decided my clothes were
good enough for another meal here at the lodge. I did grab a sweater in case I
wanted to go outside after dinner and the weather turned colder.

I saw him when I started down the stairs.
 
He looked like he had been drinking too much
coffee, or maybe more like my four year old neighbor when he has to go to the
bathroom but doesn’t want to stop doing what he’s doing.

“Jim,” he almost shouted and came over to shake my hand
like he hadn’t seen me in a year, rather than just a few hours.

“Are you going to be able to eat?” I asked.

He looked at me not understanding my cynicism.

“Oh, I’m plenty hungry.
 
Come on.” He started toward the dining room.
 
For a moment, I thought he was going to reach
back to grab my hand to drag me along. I probably looked obvious by quickly
putting my hands in the safety of my pockets, but I did follow him.

“I figured it out, Jim,” he said once we sat down.

“The murders or Sean’s behavior?”

“Oh no, not the murder,” he sounded like solving the
murder would be beneath him.

“Hello again,” a soft, pleasant voice spoke to us.

“You’re still here,” I said to Rick’s daughter.
 
“Hope they plan on paying you overtime.”

That got a smile. “Are you kidding me?
 
I’m not even on the payroll. But, in
fairness, my parents are pretty generous to me.”

“Colt,
meet
Susan, or is it
Susie?”

“Either way,” she said and smiled at Colt.

“She’s the prettiest employee in this place,” I said.

“Jim, comments like those don’t usually impress young
women, especially when they come from men our age,” he said like he was
admonishing me, “but it is hard to argue with the facts.”

“You two are silly.
 
What can I get you to drink?”

“You like wine, Colt?”