Clouds filled the sky on Tuesday morning, and I needed to weed, deadhead, and fertilize. I stirred the compost bin and slipped on my gardening gloves. Brett always saved coffee grounds and tea leaves for me, and it helped. My acid-loving plants thrived with the dregs, worms loved them, and they repelled slugs, ants, and snails.
Cowboy snoozed on the back patio, and I enjoyed having his company even if he was asleep.
I worked the soil in the area designated for herbs, then planted chives, rosemary, oregano, and lemongrass. Thoughts of Willow’s murder plagued me. The motive would probably lead me to the killer.
Cowboy barked and darted to the back door.
“What’s the matter, boy?” I removed my gloves and headed to the patio for a drink of water from my insulated glass.
The doorbell rang, and I heard it from my spot near the door. I toed off my garden shoes and walked through the kitchen and breakfast room to the gathering room, and opened the front door. Cowboy stayed by my side every step of the way.
Rusty Ramirez stood looking down at his faded, holey Converse tennis shoes.
“Hi, Rusty. I’m glad to see the police let you go.”
Cowboy barked a friendly greeting.
“Yes, ma’am. I didn’t kill Mrs. Moore.” Rusty rubbed Cowboy’s head.
“I didn’t think you did. Do you want to come inside?” I stepped back so he could enter.
“Yeah, it’s best if nobody else hears what I’m about to tell you.”
If Rusty didn’t have my attention already, his declaration intrigued me. “Come on back, and what do you mean?”
The young man followed, then leaned a hip against the kitchen counter. “Were you serious about offering me a job if I get myself clean and sober?”
“Absolutely.” I met his bloodshot gaze. “Do you have a plan?”
He looked back down at his tattered shoes. “I talked to my parents this morning. They’re on the way here from Austin. I’m going to some fancy clinic, and this time I want to get cleaned up.”
“What do you mean this time?”
“They’ve taken me there before, but I was just playing the game until I could get out and score my next fix.” He shrugged. “Dad’s got plenty of money these days, and he was patient with my mom and her addiction. He believes I can turn my life around too.”
“Why will it be different this time.” God bless his parents for not giving up on Rusty. I’d heard those places were pricey.
“It’s time to grow up. If I keep going from one high to the next, it’s gonna kill me.” He returned to staring at his shoes. “Either directly or indirectly.”
“I’ll hire you when you get back to Lutz, but I feel like there’s more to this sudden interest in getting sober.” I watched his expression. “Do you know who killed Willow?”
“Maybe. Possibly.”
“Is that what you told the police?”
His head jerked up. “No way. I’m trying to live through this, not get myself killed too.”
Cowboy nosed Rusty’s leg.
“I’m glad you adopted him. He kept me company a few cold nights. It’s a terrible thing to abandon a dog.”
“I agree.” I pointed to the bar chair. “Have a seat. Would you like a Dr. Pepper or a Coke?”
“Dr. Pepper sounds good.” He sat on the chair and propped his arms on the countertop.
I retrieved two cans of soda from the refrigerator and filled glasses with ice. “Are you hungry?”
“No, ma’am. This is good.” His hands shook, but he appeared to be sober, probably from the time he spent at the police station.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
No answer.
“Your therapy might go better if you’re not carrying a secret. Is it possibly a deadly secret you’re keeping to yourself?”
He stared at his drink. “I didn’t kill Mrs. Moore, but I was paid to do it.”
I gasped. “What happened?”
“I needed a fix and would’ve agreed to anything once I saw a wad of cash.” He rubbed his hands on his jean-covered thighs. “I never planned to kill her, but I took the money anyway.”
“Who paid you?” I held my breath, expecting to hear the name Vince Moore.
“The fella wore a new Texas Rangers baseball cap and sunglasses.”
“What else do you remember?”
“The sunglasses were black and wire-rimmed. He would’ve been smarter to hire Gambler. That dude has a rep for killing anyone in order to make his gambling debts disappear.” He made a motion with his hands like a magician. “Poof.”
Maybe the gambling guy did the job when Rusty didn’t. “Who is Gambler?”
“He’s a local legend. There are a lot of stories about him. I figure he’s your age or older. No way he could’ve murdered as many people as they say if he’s my age. The dude likes to hide the bodies. What I can’t figure out is, if he killed Ms. Moore, why didn’t he hide her body?”
“Good point. Willow was found behind the bookstore. Can you give me a better description of the man who paid you?”
Rusty’s eyes grew wide. “I’ve said too much. I need to disappear, but you say it’s okay to contact you when I’m clean?”
“Yeah. Where are you going until your parents get here?”
He slid off the stool, and with hunched shoulders, he walked to the front door. “Don’t worry about me. I probably know the shadows of this town better than anybody. See you around, Ms. Emma.”
“No need to be formal. Call me Emma.”
He saluted and jogged away.
I closed the door and patted Cowboy. “I’ve got a possible idea who paid Rusty, but I’m clueless about Gambler. Lots of people wear Rangers ball caps and wear dark sunglasses. Can I narrow down the suspects by looking at hats?” Dave had recently been released from prison. It stood to reason he’d have a new hat, but I needed more than a gut feeling to include him on my list of suspects. What would be his grounds for committing the murder? If he was still in love with Rita, it’d make more sense to kill Vince. Eliminate the competition.
The morning had flown by. The Moores decided to cater a meal instead of letting the church ladies help out after the funeral. If I was going to assist Sophie in serving food at the Moore house, I needed to shift into high gear.