CHAPTER 36

“Maybe they’ll just dig a hole right next to Puddy’s and throw your dead body into it.”

It was Tim, filling me with confidence, as we sat at Stevie’s place that evening over a dinner of rice, beans, and sausage prepared by Stacey, who continued to surprise with his multiple talents. The meal was really good.

“I mean, you can’t seriously be considering going to that funeral. Don’t you think that maybe one or more of those people might think that Tina, or Puddy for that matter, told you things that could put them in jail?”

“Kenny said they wouldn’t try anything--at least not at the funeral,” I answered.

In addition to Tim and Stacey, Ronald had also stopped by for dinner. He said his wife was out with friends, but I had the feeling he wanted to stop by and check up on the work Stacey had been doing. We were sitting in the kitchen around the table. I’d introduced Tim to the guys, and it had taken no time for them to get comfortable with each other, making small talk until I dropped the news about going to the funeral.

“Ah, famous last words as some guy is running a knife into you, ‘Kenny said you wouldn’t try anything,’” Tim replied.

“Look,” I said, taking a forkful of the food on my plate. I was talking with my mouth full but I really didn’t care. This was the first real meal I’d eaten in weeks. “I’m not exactly thrilled to be going, but Kenny’s right. Sometimes the soil is richest where it’s the rockiest.”

“Oh, Jesus. That is one of the stupidest metaphors I’ve ever heard, and I don’t even think it’s true. Richest where it’s rockiest...”

He was right. That stunk, but it was the best I could come up with. I changed the subject. “So did any of you know that Stevie was working at TSN warehouse?” I asked.

“I didn’t, and I don’t think Mrs. A did either, but it makes sense that no one knew,” Ronald said. “Stevie and Tony didn’t get along too well. No secret there. Last thing Stevie would probably want people to know is that he was actually working for him.”

“Is that right? Any reason in particular why they didn’t get along? I mean, besides the fact that Tony is a major league asshole?” I asked, taking a sip from my ice-cold bottle of Dos Equus.

Beer just seemed to go better with Mexican food than whiskey. It was also a little too hot and humid for Powers, despite the window fan that basically just moved sticky air about the room.

No one answered at first. Stacey was no doubt silent because he didn’t have a clue. Ronald didn’t say anything, perhaps because of loyalty to Sue Ellen, just one of what I suspected were his many admirable traits. Tim...well, Tim avoided eye contact and pushed some of the rice on his plate into a tidy little pile.

“Tim, do you know something?” I asked.

He looked up. “All I have is rumors, gossip, nothing I can really attest to...just, you know, Town Crier blather.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “At this point I’d take information from an old gypsy in a wagon with a crystal ball. What have you heard?”

“Okay, word is that Tony started fooling around on Sue Ellen practically as soon as they were married, and that when Stevie heard the rumors he got pretty hot. I heard, but again this all just talk, that he even threatened to kill Tony, although no one really believed he would. You knew Stevie...”

“Yeah, he’d definitely stick up for his sister. One of the step outs by Tony, could that have been Tina?” I asked.

“No, word is Tony likes ’em younger, just out of college,” Tim answered.

Stacey spoke up for the first time. “So, maybe Stevie threatened to tell Sue Ellen. Maybe he was blackmailing Tony, and rather than pay out, Tony offs Stevie.”

“Could be. A knife in the back would be just Tony’s style,” I said.

“She knew.”

It was Ronald.

“What?” I asked.

“Mrs. A knew about Tony’s...dealings. She told me once--I guess she had to talk to somebody--said she didn’t leave him because of the kids.” He looked at each of us in turn. “I’m only telling you guys because Mrs. A said to tell you whatever you needed to know, but everything I say--” he said, pointing his index finger down and moving it in a circular motion around the table, “--doesn’t leave this room.”

“Well, so much for a motive for Tony,” Tim said.

“Yeah, too bad. That was the first theory that made any sense,” I said, stuffing my mouth with another forkful, “at least as far as Stevie’s death.”

“You think maybe Puddy told Stevie about the car ring and Stevie was blackmailing someone involved in that? And whoever it was decided to take care of both Stevie and Puddy?” Stacey asked. He seemed to be enjoying working up blackmail scenarios.

“I don’t know. I don’t think Stevie would be stupid enough to take on the kind of guys who are stealing and chopping the cars and, from what Kenny told me, it was a rather small-time operation. They wouldn’t have the kind of money at any one time that would make it worth it for Stevie to take on the risk. He’d want to make a big score--big enough to buy a forty-thousand-dollar boat and probably get out of Dodge.”

There was a knock at the front screen door. The outer door was open so some air could get into the place. Feeling very full and a little too lazy to get up and answer, I yelled out for the person to enter. Stacey got up and moved to the inside of the kitchen doorway, out of sight and ready to stop any undesirable visitor. He needn’t have bothered. It was Dom.

“Hi, Dom. Join the party,” I said as he came out of the hallway and into the kitchen.

“What are you celebrating? Your first night not spending time in jail?” he said.

“Very funny. I’m surprised to see you here. Didn’t think your wife would let you hang around with me after what happened. Beer’s in the fridge,” I said.

“Yeah, me either, but she kinda liked the article you wrote on Tina. She read it online. They were friends once it seems--back in high school--so she said it was okay. She made me promise not to break any laws, though,” he said, crossing over to the fridge, opening it, and taking out a beer. “Anyone else?” he asked. We all raised our hands. He reached in and grabbed three more. As he laid them on the table, he sniffed over our plates. “Smells good. Any left?”

“Help yourself. Plates are in that cabinet over there,” I said, indicating with my fork. “Silverware’s in the drawer.”

“So--” Dom asked as he opened a couple cabinets before he found the one holding the plates and then did the same with the drawers until he found the one with the forks, knives, and spoons, “--you guys figure everything out yet?”

“Not even close,” Tim said. “We were waiting for you to show up to solve it all.”

“You kidding?” Dom said as he put his plate on the table and sat down next to me. “I’m still seeing that dead body with the knife sticking out of it and all that blood.”

He piled a heap of the rice meal onto his plate. Didn’t seem like the image of Puddy lying on the living room floor affected his appetite.

“Yeah, that was the first dead body I ever saw,” said Tim. “Did the police say how long he’d been lying there?”

“They weren’t exactly sharing information with me,” I answered.

“What about the knife?” Dom asked, coming up for air. “Can’t they check for fingerprints or run some kind of...what do you call it...ballistics on it?”

“Ballistics is for bullets, Dom,” Tim said.

“One thing the police did say was that the handle of the knife was wiped clean, when I was proclaiming my innocence and denied ever touching it,” I answered.

“Well, they must have some way to tell if that knife was the same one that killed Stevie or Tina--size of blade or something like that,” Ronald said. He turned to Stacey. “You wouldn’t happen to have a knife on you, do you?”

“Sure,” Stacey answered, reaching down and pulling a blade out of his right boot.

I shook my head. “Of course, he does. This is East Hastings, after all.”

“Well, mine’s in the truck, but I can tell just by looking at Stacey’s that his blade is thicker and wider than mine.”

“Probably longer too,” Stacey said with a smile.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ronald said, returning a smile of his own. “But it would surely make a different entry wound in a body than mine.”

“Sure, probably. That makes sense, but like I said, the police aren’t sharing that kind of information with me,” I said.

“You are an investigative reporter, aren’t you? There must be some way for you to investigate and find out,” said Tim.

“Well, something like that is probably in the coroner’s report, but I don’t see--” I started to say.

“You know,” Ronald interrupted, “I think the coroner has a daughter who rides a horse. I’ve seen him at a couple of horse shows when I’ve gone with Mrs. A to watch her daughters ride.”

“Yeah, so?” I asked.

“Well, maybe Doc Andrews knows him. She takes care of most of the horses in Hastings County. Maybe she could--”

I stopped him right there. “No, I’m not getting her involved in this, and I don’t see why she’d help anyway,” I said, looking down and poking at the remaining grains of rice on my plate.

“I don’t know,” Ronald answered. “I kinda got the feeling she liked you a little.”

I looked around the table. Stacey, Tim, and Dom all had an amused look on their faces.

“Well, what do you know?” said Tim. “Looks like it’s time for our boy Wes here to turn on the charm.”

“Forget it,” I said. “It would be real stupid to count on my charm getting me anywhere.”

What was even more stupid was the flutter I felt when Ronald said Jackie kinda liked me.