Over the course of the afternoon, Dave tried to call Kurt at least five times. Each call was sent immediately to voice mail. Finding a few minutes between a traffic stop and the visit with Monty he’d been putting off, he stopped by Kurt’s house. His kid answered the door and said his dad wasn’t around. Six strikeouts was enough for one day. Kurt wasn’t stupid. By now, he’d put together what had really happened to Sam. Dave was left with nothing to do except hope Kurt realized his silence implicated him as much as Dave and Monty. He’d left several messages to that effect.
The Avalon Motor Inn’s parking lot usually emptied out at dinnertime, as guests went off in search of food and entertainment. It was just after six when Dave parked his car in front of room 1. He found Monty in the back office, his feet up on a footstool, watching Fox News. “Hey, man,” he said. A stack of clean towels rested on the only other chair. Dave had to move them over to the desk before he could sit down. “I’ve got some news, none of it good.”
“You’re just full of sweetness and light these days, man.”
“You said you wanted me to keep you informed.”
“And I do.” Monty picked up the remote and turned the TV off. “I’ve got some news, too, except I can’t tell you about it just yet.”
Dave wasn’t in the mood for Monty’s games. “Saltus interviewed Kurt Steiner this morning.”
“I thought your chief told you to do it.”
“No, he said Saltus should do it, but that I should sit in. Not that it helped. Saltus had some information I didn’t know about. Get this: Sam and Kurt were homos. Kurt still is. It’s mind-blowing.”
In reaction, all Monty did was raise an eyebrow.
“Saltus told him about the blanks. It came out of his mouth so fast, I couldn’t stop him.”
“So Kurt knows?”
“I’m not positive, but he’s not stupid. He probably put it together.”
“But he didn’t say anything to Saltus?”
“Not yet.”
“If he goes to the cops, it implicates him, too,” said Monty. “He won’t. He’s too interested in maintaining his good name. Mr. Famous Sensitive Poet and all that.”
Dave wished he could be so sure. “Maybe you should talk to him. I’ve tried. He won’t answer my calls.”
“Is that all?” asked Monty, checking his watch.
“You got an appointment or something?”
“The wife took the kids to Rowdy’s Hamburger Shack for dinner. When they’re done, she’s dropping a Triple Cheeseburger off for me.”
Dave could feel his stomach growl. The fact that he could eat at times like this amazed him. “Okay, I’ll make this quick. We found Carli Gilbert’s car yesterday morning.”
“That right. And?”
“And,” said Dave, “I need to know why you did it. Why you murdered her.” He could tell Monty was having a hard time figuring out how to arrange his face.
“Why on earth would you think I had anything to do with her death?”
“I found one of your green cans in the backseat.”
He laughed. “You think I’m the only one who drinks that stuff?”
“I’ve been in every grocery and convenience store within a seventy-five-mile radius of Castle Lake and I’ve never seen one for sale. Don’t try to bullshit me, okay? Your prints on the can will prove it.”
Monty considered this. “Okay, well, so maybe I did do it. But you gotta understand, bro. I never wanted to hurt her. I loved her—or at least I did once upon a time. You remember when I told you Sarah and I were headed for divorce? I was so screwed up that I started looking at other women. I’m not proud of it, and I’m not using that as an excuse, but I was lonely and frustrated. I thought I’d lost Sarah, and I not only wanted to hurt her, but I needed someone in my life. Carli was there for me, Dave. She was such a good listener. One night, we’d been drinking tequila shots, I let it all hang out. Maybe … maybe I told her things I shouldn’t have.”
He’d figured it was something like that.
“Not everything, but enough, yeah. I didn’t think it mattered because we loved each other. I figured when Sarah and I split, I’d move on to Carli. It was hard to end it with her. She was such a wonderful woman. But a few weeks ago, I had to tell her we were done. I couldn’t cheat on Sarah any longer. Let’s just say, she didn’t take it well. And then when Sam’s remains were found last Sunday, she threw it in my face, said she should go to the cops with what she knew. I mean, I couldn’t let that happen, could I? My choice was to either continue the relationship with a sword hanging over my head, or … or Carli would have to go.”
Monty was usually too smart to make such a stupid mistake, but when he drank, his good sense deserted him.
“So, what are we gonna do?” asked Monty. “Is there any way you can help me out? I’m not sure what I’d do if some DA put the screws to me. You’re stronger than I am, Dave. I’ve always relied on your strength.”
Monty’s tone changed when he wanted something. His usual confidence would disappear. True, Dave owed Monty his freedom, so the stuff he’d done over the years to keep Monty out of jail seemed justified. And yet, no matter how many times Dave pleaded with him to change his ways, he never did.
“So, can you help me?” asked Monty.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“You’re the man.”
“I wish I knew what makes you tick.”
“Yeah? What’s that mean?”
“Sometimes, it’s like … I don’t understand you at all.”
“You and me, Dave, we’re closer than brothers. It’s what that Bible verse says, where David talks about his friend Jonathan. He said their feelings surpassed the love of women.”
“Huh?”
Hearing the bell jingle over the front door, Monty got up.
“Better shove off,” said Dave. “I just wish I understood you better. Like, what makes you happy.” He headed for the door.
Stopping Dave and turning him around, Monty stood with his hand on the doorknob. He kissed Dave on the cheek, letting his lips linger.
Dave backed up until he hit the wall.
“Power makes me happy, man. Simple as that. Are we communicating now? We love each other. You tell me that all the time. Except you love me more. Understand? Is that simple enough for you?” Opening the door, he walked out into the front office, where both of his sons raced up to wrap their arms around his legs.
Dave nodded to Sarah as he skirted around the counter and made a hasty exit. He stood outside the office for a few seconds, wondering what the hell had just happened.
His cell phone rang. Glancing at it, he saw that it was his girlfriend.
“Hey, Paula,” he said, his voice sounding a tad strangled.
“Hey, yourself. I was just at the grocery store and found two beautiful rib eyes on sale. Don’t suppose you’re free for dinner tonight.”
“Um, sure, I could be.”
“I’ve got baked potatoes ready to go into the oven, and salad fixings. I’m sure there’s still some of that thousand island dressing you like in the fridge. Are we on?”
Her home was forty-five miles away. “Give me an hour.”
“Can you stay the night?”
“Don’t see why not.”
“Perfect, baby. See you in sixty.”
As Dave slid into the front seat of his SUV, his thoughts continued to pinball around his tired brain. Monty had never spoken to him like that before. He sensed that something big had just gone down between them, but for the life of him, he wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe in the next hour he could figure it out.