Chapter 16
Hayley was still a bit shaken up by her run-in with Wade’s ex, Stacy Jo, when she left the Harborside, so she made a beeline for her brother Randy’s bar for a relaxing glass of red wine before heading home to check up on the kids.
When she arrived at Drinks Like A Fish, Randy was tending bar and Mona sat on her usual corner bar stool complaining about her husband and kids, sipping on a Diet Sprite and not too happy about it.
There were a couple of bank tellers from the First National at a corner table nursing Cosmos and gossiping about their evil branch managers.
And, in the back, there was no missing the giant African-American man, in a bright yellow windbreaker that made him look like Big Bird, playing darts.
It was Wade’s bodyguard, Curtis King.
Hayley slid on top of a stool next to Mona and put her arm around her and gave her a tight squeeze. “Heard you had a sonogram today.”
“Yeah,” Mona groaned. “Kid’s healthy. I’m grateful for that. And I’m more grateful I’m not having twins.”
“Usual, Hayley?” Randy asked, reaching for the Jack Daniels.
“No, school night. I’m just having one glass of red wine and then I have to head straight home. I’ve just missed you all since I’ve been working these two jobs.”
Randy poured a glass full of merlot and set it down in front of Hayley. “Missed you, too, sis. It’s been crazy busy in here the last few nights. At least until the murder. Now business has ground to a halt. No more of Wade’s crew coming in to blow off steam.”
Mona chuckled and pointed to Curtis, who had just nailed a dart in the center of the board. “Except him.”
“What’s so funny?” Hayley asked.
“Wait. You’ll see,” Mona said, grinning.
Curtis downed the last of his beer and ambled over to the bar, slamming the mug down in front of Randy. “Fill ’er up, sunshine.”
Randy took the mug and poured him a cold one from the tap and slid it back over to him.
Curtis scooped it up and took a generous sip, which left a foam mustache on his upper lip.
He winked at Randy and returned to the dart board.
“Sunshine?” Hayley said, her mouth opened in shock.
“He’s got a huge, and I mean HUGE, crush on your brother,” Mona laughed.
“Ladies, please, let’s not, okay?” Randy said, wiping down the bar with a rag.
Hayley glanced over at Curtis, who nailed the center of the board again and then casually glanced over to see if Randy was noticing his prowess with darts.
“He’s looking over here, Randy,” Mona said.
“Don’t encourage him,” Randy said in a quiet but urgent voice.
“I didn’t even know he was gay,” Hayley said.
“He came here the first night with a few of Wade’s musicians, and got pretty drunk, and started getting a little randy. I told him I was taken, but that hasn’t exactly discouraged him. He’s been back every night. Won’t take no for an answer.”
“Did you tell him your boyfriend is the chief of police?” Hayley asked.
“Yeah, that didn’t really do the trick.”
“And Mickey Pritchett’s murder hasn’t kept him from coming around like the rest of Wade’s crew,” Hayley said, eyeing Curtis, who was busy chugging down his mug of beer.
“Well, there was no love lost between those two, believe me,” Randy said. “Curtis was here the other night, slurring his words a bit after more than a few, but making it very clear he hated Mickey’s guts. Seemed Mickey was a homophobe and really gave Curtis a hard time after he found out macho Curtis was a girly pansy boy. Mickey’s words, not mine.”
“I heard the guy tell Wade’s drummer he wanted to put Mickey down for good,” Mona said, stirring her Diet Sprite with a straw before pushing the glass away from her. “God, I miss beer. I can’t wait for this kid to pop out.”
“Mona, why didn’t you mention this to me before?”
“You didn’t ask,” Mona said matter-of-factly.
“So Curtis had a motive to kill Mickey. They hated each other,” Hayley said, her mind racing. “Randy, think. Was Curtis in here with the boys from the tour the night Mickey was murdered?”
“Yes, I’m certain of it, because he kept asking me out to dinner and I kept saying no,” Randy said.
“But he was the first one to leave, around nine-thirty, don’t you remember? Because that was around the same time my babysitter called me threatening to sue my kids for emotional abuse and I had to get home,” Mona said. “We walked out of the bar together.”
“Nine-thirty,” Hayley said. “That gave Curtis plenty of time to go back to the hotel and force Mickey into the tour bus, shoot him dead, then drive it to Albert Meadow and set it on fire to try and cover his tracks.”
“Doesn’t he watch CSI? That never works,” Randy said. “They always find evidence in the wreckage.”
“I wish there was some way for me to search his hotel room to see if there’s some clue that places him at the scene,” Hayley said, spinning around on her stool and staring at Curtis.
“He isn’t staying in the hotel,” Randy said. “He’s staying in the other tour bus. It serves as his office and makeshift sleeping quarters. He likes to keep an eye on the hotel from outside to monitor all the comings and goings. Part of his security process, I guess.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Believe me, he’s invited me back there every night he’s been here for a quote, unquote, drink,” Randy said.
Curtis strolled back over, wiped some remaining foam from his mouth, and placed his mug down in front of Randy.
Randy refilled it again.
“Honestly, Randy, you work too hard,” Hayley said suddenly, loud enough for Curtis to hear. “I’m worried you’re going to make yourself sick. You need to take a break every once and a while. As your younger sister . . .”
“You’re two years older and what are you talking about?”
“Don’t interrupt me. Let me look after the bar. Go get something to eat. Relax. Enjoy life for once, instead of working your fingers to the bone. You’re so cute and I don’t want you aging prematurely. Isn’t he cute, Curtis?”
Curtis perked up and smiled. “Oh, yes. Very.”
“You know what? I just had the craziest idea,” Hayley said, fishing for something in her bag. “I got this gift certificate from Havana that I’m never going to use.”
Havana was a quiet little Cuban restaurant on the other side of town.
And very romantic.
Candles on the table.
Impressive wine list.
The whole shebang.
Randy opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Hayley was shoving the gift certificate in his hand. “Why don’t you call Sergio and have a nice quiet dinner. Oh, darn, I just remembered, he’s working tonight, isn’t he?”
“Yes, there’s this very big murder case . . .”
“Curtis, have you eaten?” Hayley was not going to let Randy get a word in edgewise and Randy knew it and was already looking resigned to the situation.
“No, ma’am,” Curtis said, beaming.
“Why don’t you go with Curtis? As friends. I’m sure Curtis has been working like a dog, too, looking after Wade. He deserves a tasty meal at one of our local hotspots,” Hayley said.
“As long as Randy doesn’t mind,” Curtis said, eyeing Randy curiously, not sure if he was going to go for this plan.
Hayley was eyeing Randy, too, her back to Curtis. She was silently pleading with him.
Randy sighed. “No, Curtis, dinner sounds nice. Why don’t you wait for me outside?”
Curtis upended his mug and swallowed the beer in one gulp. He nodded to Hayley and Mona. “You ladies have a nice evening. I know I sure will.”
And he was out the door.
Randy glared at Hayley. “I swear, if Sergio ever finds out about this little undercover assignment . . .”
“He’s not going to. I promise. I only need an hour. You don’t even have to stay for dessert.”
“I can’t just close the bar,” Randy said.
“Mona can take care of the bank tellers and anyone else who comes in. Any reason to avoid going home to her husband and kids, right, Mona?”
“She’s got a point,” Mona shrugged. “Besides, they’re all out at the movies.”
“Then it’s settled. Let’s do this,” Hayley said.
“Why are you so obsessed with getting involved in all this?” Randy asked. “Is it because of Wade?”
“No. Wade’s already been cleared. He has an air-tight alibi. You know me. I just can’t help myself. I still have all my first edition Nancy Drew books. That’s why I work at a newspaper.”
“But you’re not an investigative journalist. You write a cooking column,” Randy said.
“Please don’t turn into another Bruce Linney. I couldn’t take two of him. Now go! Curtis is waiting.”
Randy took a deep breath and sighed again. Then he came out from behind the bar and went over to the table with the bank tellers. “I have to go, ladies. But Mona will be here to take care of you.”
The women nodded and went back to their gossiping.
Randy shot Hayley one last look of annoyance and walked out the door to where Curtis was waiting.
The two strolled off down the street.
“I’ll be back soon,” Hayley said to Mona, who was already behind the bar washing glasses, before she shot out the door and raced down the street in the other direction.
When she arrived at the Harborside Hotel, Hayley was amazed to find the tour bus unlocked, especially given recent events. But once she was inside, it quickly became apparent there was really nothing of value to steal.
Just a lot of empty food containers and beer bottles. There was the nauseating smell of unwashed sheets and dirty clothes. She found discarded candy wrappers and a crumpled issue of Health and Fitness magazine.
Which Curtis probably flipped through while chowing down on junk food.
Hayley moved to a steamer trunk in the back of the bus hidden under a pile of clothes. She snapped it open and looked inside.
Mostly personal items. Shaving kit. A Dallas Cowboys ball cap. An autographed photo of Curtis flanked by Wade and Tim McGraw. Curtis was beaming at being in the middle of the two strapping sexy singers.
Well, it looked like Curtis and Hayley had the same taste when it came to men.
Hayley smiled and was about to put the photo back in the trunk when something suddenly caught her eye.
Sticking out from a pile of DVDs—mostly Adam Sandler comedies—was a glinting piece of metal.
Hayley knew what it was immediately.
A gun.
Hayley grabbed one of Curtis’s dirty stained socks from the floor and used it to pick up the Smith and Wesson .38.
Was this the murder weapon that killed Mickey Pritchett?