Brian is under the rear of a vintage candy apple red Mustang trying to wrestle a gas tank into place. He is by himself. It’s a weekday at this shop, and the Vo-Tech kids don’t come in until the weekend. As he taps on something, a cascade of rusty metal flakes blankets his torso. He coughs as he pushes the mechanic’s creeper out into my sneakers. He isn’t expecting a sudden stop and peels off his dust-covered safety-glasses to stare up at me with a startled expression. “Mrs. Strong, what are you doing here?”
“Looks like you have quite the project, Brian.”
“They gave me the wrong size gas tank. It’s too big for the brackets.” He uses a rag to wipe off his face and neck. “How can I help you?”
“I came to see how you were doing.”
He shimmies the creeper away from my feet and sits up. He reaches for a bottle of Mountain Dew and drinks to clear his throat. I worry about how much dust and dirt he must swallow each day, working without a mask. His cough confirms my fears. “I miss the hell out of Jake, and I am angry at him too, leaving all this unfinished work.” He waves to the car with the mashed-in nose in the other bay. There are several others like it out on the lot as well. “Then I think about how much pain he must have been in to do that to himself, and I get pissed at myself for being angry with him. Just when I want to feel sorry for little old me, I think about Sharon and the Dawson family.”
“It must be awful, Brian. I’m sorry.”
He drains the bottle of Mountain Dew, then tosses it towards an open fifty-five-gallon drum, where it bounces off the rim and hits the floor. “He was my best friend and my business partner. More than that, he was the energy behind what we did here. Without him…” He stares at me and then away as moisture creeps into his eyes.
“How long were you best friends?” I ask.
“Since second or third grade.”
“Long time. I’ve spent some time with Sharon since he died and never asked her when they first became boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Had to be fifth or sixth grade. She’s the first girl he ever kissed. They went to all the school dances and both proms together.”
“Why did he do it, Brian? Mabel and Warren asked me to figure out what had happened. They are just lost.”
“I don’t know. I keep asking myself that question myself.” He slowly gets up and stretches. “He was excited about the wedding. He drank only a little at the rehearsal dinner, and he wanted to get a good night’s sleep.”
“The Dawson brothers said you guys got a pizza and beer.”
“Sure. We went back to his place for a couple of slices and a beer or two.” He looked away.
“What?” I ask.
“Becky Steele, Sharon’s maid of honor, showed up with a bottle of booze and wanted to party some more. She had too much to drink at the rehearsal dinner. Jake’s brothers decided to leave after they had one drink with her.”
“What time was that?”
“Before midnight. That’s when Jake had decided the party would end.”
“How was he then?”
“Little upset with Becky. She was hitting on me at the dinner and then she came over to the cabin and made an ass of herself.”
“The reverend’s daughter?” I know that question will get a rise out of him.
He reaches for a cigarette and lights it. He blows out smoke and coughs again. “Yeah, that’s what everyone thinks.” He spits into the trash can. “She came over wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Then she got sloppy with the booze.” He looks away from me. “She was too drunk to drive. I decided to take her home. Jake started cleaning up.”
“What time was that?”
“Had to be only about ten minutes after his brothers left.”
He takes another drag on his cigarette, coughs again, and stares at his steel-toed work shoes. “I got her almost all the way to her parent’s house, and she freaks out, telling me she left her bag and purse at the cabin. We drove all the way back and walked in to find Jake at the table. I called 911 and waited.”
“What did you and Becky talk about while you waited?”
“Nothing. She completely lost it. Girl was making no sense.”
I resist the urge to ask another question. There’s more coming.
“Believe me, Mrs. Strong, she’s no angel.”
“Then what happened?”
“He wasn’t moving. I told Wendy I thought he was dead. She checked for a pulse and told Lucinda to cancel the ambulance.”
“What about Becky?”
“She sat in Jake’s bedroom and just cried her eyes out. Officer Williams came in next and told everybody they had to get out.”
“Did anybody look for a note?”
“It was pretty obvious to everyone he shot himself.” He looks at me like I somehow missed the obvious.
“I’m sorry, Brian. Did anybody look for a note? The reason I ask is that when I asked Barney and the State Police, they said to me, ‘Let’s agree there was no note.’ Do you understand now why I am asking?”
“I can’t tell you if there was a note or not. I just stood there staring at him until Wendy came in.”
“Where was Becky?”
“She was puking her brains out and then stayed in Jake’s room while Wendy and I waited for Officer Williams.”
“What happened next?”
“He came in, asked Wendy if Jake was dead, then called for the State Police. He asked us all to go outside and wait for them. It was a while before they showed up. I told him everything I just told you. He was gonna call Jake’s parents, but I told him I would. He didn’t know that Jake was getting married the next day. I told him about the rehearsal dinner and the guys having one last drink with Jake as a single guy.”
“Did he take any photos?”
“Nope.” Jake lights another cigarette from the first. He’s in no hurry to wrestle with the gas tank.
I look at the car and already know the answer to the question I ask. “Whose car is that? You don’t see many old Mustangs like that anymore.”
“A couple of brothers. You don’t know them, they didn’t go to school with us. They buy ‘em wrecked and sell ‘em around the country after we fix them up.”
“I think Candace mentioned something about them.”
“Yeah, Candace would. What a pain in the butt, Mrs. Strong.” I cock my head. “They always pay in cash. Jake and I always wanted cash customers if you know what I mean.”
“I do. My husband does ‘cash favors’ for townsfolk occasionally.” I wink. I can give a little to get a little.
“Candace convinced Jake that everything had to be run through the books. Jake and I would have our arguments about how to work on the cars, you know, whether to repair or replace some parts, but we left the books up to her. Jake told her he wasn’t working on their cars anymore and that I would use their cash to buy their parts, but he didn’t tell her he and I still split what they paid us. I got a couple of kids from Vo-Tech to come in on weekends to work as interns. They love working on the classics. The pictures of the restored ponies would go into their portfolios. They could get a job anywhere with proof that they worked on those cars. We figured a way to keep Candace happy. Nothing would show up in the books for those cars, and we’d still keep the cash.”
I can see where Jake might tell Candace one thing and do another, especially after hearing how he might have had a side girlfriend. Brian and Jake were best friends. And best friends are not family. I’m sure there are things about Erin or Wesley that I know nothing about, but their best friends certainly have the inside dope.
“Tell me about the life insurance policies that you took out on each other.”
“What life insurance policies?” He looks genuinely puzzled. “Mrs. Strong, what are you talking about?”
“Candace said that you both had life insurance policies taken out on each other.”
He shakes his head. “I signed a bunch of papers when we started the business. I don’t remember them all. Like I said, we let Candace handle the books. She’d tell Jake what we needed to know, and he’d tell me. As long as we were making more money each year, I didn’t care about the numbers.”
“Brian, you were his beneficiary, and he was yours.”
“So what? They probably won’t pay off.” He crushed out his cigarette on the side of the drum.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“Because he killed himself, Mrs. Strong. Isn’t that like against the law? Nobody gets anything if you kill yourself.”
I can’t help but think that Barney and Detective Shafer should be here listening to this. Then again, if they weren’t so quick to close the case, they might rule out suspects like I am now. Still, I can’t bring myself to tell Brian that the period of contestability for a death by suicide has expired and that he will receive a million dollars. I can turn over that card some other time.
Unless… I look up and stare at this boy. I think about him at church carrying the casket. I remember him and Jake in my class and them playing in the schoolyard. I recall those two riding on their bicycles like maniacs around town. Unless, of course, he would be excluded from collecting if he murdered Jake. “I’m not sure how that works,” I lie.
“Can you let me know if you find anything out, Mrs. Strong? I’d like to know why he did this to himself and to us.”
“Yes, Brian, I can.” I turn to look at the Mustang. It wants to tell me something, but I am not sure what it is. “What are you going to do about that?” I point to the gas tank.
“Tell them to take it back. I can’t make it fit, and I’m not going to break my neck trying.”