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MY PHONE RANG AS ALEX and I were on our way to Billy’s Place. I didn’t recognize the number and answered, “Walsh Investigations.”
It was a young man’s voice on the other end. “Did you say Walsh Investigations?”
“Yes, I did. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I missed a couple of calls from this number earlier today.” The caller was quiet for a moment. “Is this Henry Walsh?”
“Who is this?” I said.
“My name’s Nate Ryan. I’ve been trying to catch up with you. I wasn’t expecting...” Another moment of silence. “How’d you get my number?”
“Didn’t you leave it for me at the bar at Billy’s Place?”
Silence again. “I gave my number to a girl, but...I guess. Oh, okay. I thought she wanted it because...never mind. Well, I’m glad you called me.”
“Where are you?” I said.
“At the St. Johns Town Center.”
I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear and yanked Alex’s Jeep toward the next exit off the highway. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Yeah? Okay, uh...there’s a fountain there with a bunch of tables, like a courtyard. Got some restaurants and...”
“I know where it is. I’ll find you.” I hung up and turned to Alex. “We’re going to meet Nate Ryan.”
“I heard.”
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WE WALKED ACROSS THE parking lot at the St. Johns Town Center and passed a pond with a fountain in the middle. A sign read, Please Do Not Feed the Turtles. We continued toward the courtyard area with dozens of tables with umbrellas and chairs. Most were empty. A young man with light, almost blond hair sat alone. He looked tall and thin...almost boyish. He watched us and stood as we walked close.
“Are you Mr. Walsh?” he said.
“Henry,” I said, about to shake his hand, but he had a bandage on the back of it. Not to mention some sort of a rash that covered the back of his arm. “You must be Nate?” I tipped my head to the side, toward Alex. “This is Alex.”
Nate stared back at Alex without a word for a couple of moments.
“Nate?” I said. “Are you okay?”
He turned to me as if snapped from a trance. “Huh? Oh...no. I’m sorry, it’s not...it’s just...” He looked away, his eyes toward the fountain at the far end of the courtyard. He turned his eyes back to Alex. “For a second, you reminded me of someone...”
Alex glanced at me as we sat with Nate at the table.
I smirked and said, “So, who does she remind you of?”
Nate sipped from his tall red cup, with Coca Cola written up the side. “Don’t take this the wrong way or, I hope it doesn’t sound weird, but...” He looked back at Alex. “You look a little like my mother.”
Alex’s eyes got wide as she raised her eyebrows and looked off.
I said, “Your mother, Theresa Thompson?”
Nate Nodded. “Theresa Ryan.”
I paused a moment. “Not Theresa Thompson?”
Nate shrugged. “Technically, er, legally...yes. She’s Theresa Thompson. But to me and the rest of my family, she’s Theresa Ryan.”
Alex gave me a look out of the corner of her eye.
“She passed away,” he said.
I nodded. “I know all about your mother.”
I looked back and forth from me to Alex. “You mean, because you’re investigating John’s death?”
“Yes, although let me take that back. I know a little about your mother. Probably not as much as I should.”
Nate leaned over the table and sipped his drink from the straw without using his hands.
“I’m sorry about your stepfather.” I said.
Nate made a face. “My stepfather?” He shook his head and gave a slight roll of his eyes. “He’s not my stepfather. He never really was, as far as I was concerned. But after my mother died...” He was still shaking his head. “He’s nothing to me. Definitely not my stepfather.”
I moved in closer and leaned my elbows on the table. “So how’d you know about me?” I said. “Who told you I was investigating John’s death?”
Nate hesitated a moment. “A friend of mine. She bartends at a place...said you’d stopped in there asking questions.”
“You don’t mean Lydia, do you?”
He nodded. “You know her?”
“Just the one time I met her. She was nice. But she didn’t seem to have the same feelings you do toward John. She was quite upset.” I leaned back off the table. “I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.”
“We’re not that close or anything. But I saw her the other night. She mentioned a private eye stopped in when she was behind the bar. She had your card.” Nate smiled. “She said you broke her boyfriend’s nose.”
“Her boyfriend? You mean Brian Mason?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah, he owns the place.”
“I know that. But I didn’t know he was her boyfriend.”
Nate shrugged again. “I don’t know. Maybe not so much anymore. Like I said, I don’t know her that well.”
“What about Brian? What can you tell me about him?”
“He’s kind of a punk. He used to come over the house when I was little, but my mother didn’t like him. But Mr. Mason would always be at the house with John. He’d bring Brian, try to get us to be friends.”
“So you and Brian aren’t friends?”
Nate shook his head as he sipped from the straw. He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think my mother liked Roy a whole lot, either. I remember the two of them having fights about it.”
“Who would fight?”
“John and my mother. She didn’t like that Roy was always at the house.”
Alex and I exchanged looks as I nodded toward Nate.
Nate got quiet and looked off without saying a word for a couple of moments. “I wanted to be a cop when I was younger, you know. Actually, I applied but my background...” He stopped before he finished.
“What about your background?”
He looked down at his drink. “I smoked a lot of pot in my teens. Got caught a couple of times, too. So it’s on my record. I was doing quite a bit of drinking at one point, got into a little trouble. So I thought, if I can’t be a cop...maybe I could be a private investigator.”
“So that’s why you called me?”
He looked past me and paused a moment before he answered. “Yes and no. Well, what got me thinking about it is I’ve already been doing some investigating lately. I’m trying to find out why I never got any money when my mom died. I was told I had something coming, but I had to wait until I was twenty-one. Then my aunt...” He turned to Alex. “I used to live with my aunt. And she said John kept all the money after my mom died. Some of it belonged to me.”
Alex and I exchanged a look. I leaned forward on the table, looked Nate in the eye. “You believe John owes you money?”
Nate nodded. “I do. And I thought, well, maybe you could help me?”
I rubbed my face with both hands. “Nate, you know this doesn’t look good. I mean...whatever happened to John and, well, here you are claiming he owes you money?”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ve been calling this girl at John’s office. I guess she was his assistant or something. I called to see if she could help me get my hands on the life insurance policy.”
Alex said, “Your mother’s policy?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah, but she never returned my calls. I called her at least a dozen times. So a couple of nights ago I found out where she lived, went to her apartment. And as I walked up to her place, thinking I’d just knock on her door and introduce myself...” He was quiet for a moment. “This white truck drove past me, I swear, almost hit me.”
I sat up straight in my seat and saw Alex staring back at me. “A white truck? What kind of a white truck?”
“I don’t know. F-250, I think.” He looked back and forth from me to Alex. “Why do you both look so surprised? I’m not sure why I even mentioned it, I just...”
“Anything you remember about it? Any scratches or dents or anything at all that’d make it stand out?”
Nate nodded. “Had one of those big metal bars on the front. I don’t remember what you call ‘em.”
“A bull bar?”
“Yes, that’s what it’s called. A bull bar.”