Double Shot (25 page)

“How will I ever get better if you leave?” she asked. I didn’t have an answer, but I did agree to play her before I left.

“Well then, get it over with,” Ethel said. “I’m sick of hearing her whine.”

A bit harsh, but others murmured agreement, and I was soon racking the balls. I let Melissa break. Mistake number one—Melissa Purcell, breaking.

The one ball may have rolled half an inch, but nothing else happened. Despite a lot of complaining from the railbirds, I racked them again and demonstrated the proper technique without actually hitting the cue ball.

“You have to put your whole body into it,” I explained. “Use your hips.”

“Melissa would like to use her hips for something,” Doreen snickered and again prodded Spencer with her cane.

Melissa ignored her, and her second attempt at breaking was far more successful than her first. I also managed to teach her a couple of other tricks, but still found it impossible to lose. She begged for a re-match, but the crowd wouldn’t tolerate it, and Spencer stepped forward.

It was time to start gambling—and not only on my pool game.

I chalked up and boldly announced my intensions. “I plan on making my last night at the Wade On Inn really count.”

“She’s gonna beat the socks off us,” someone said and several people chuckled.

“Maybe.” I blew on the tip of my stick. “But more importantly, I want to find out who killed those people last week. I can’t go home without knowing the outcome of the story.”

I glanced around. “It seems to me y’all would want to know who killed your friends.”

“And it seems to me you’re awfully interested in people you never met.” Spencer laid a hundred-dollar bill on top of the light.

“I’m nosy,” I agreed and slapped my own bill up there. I spotted him the seven-ball and let him win the lag.

Meanwhile Bobby Decker arrived. Between a shucks here, and a golly gee willikers there, he agreed that it was high time the truth came out. He smiled broadly, and I once again noticed the chipped tooth.

“Well then, let’s start with you,” I challenged him, and he lost the smile. “Everyone tells me you never miss a night. So where were you last night?”

“I decided to try out the Squeaky Cricket.”

I tilted my head and squinted. Where had I heard about the Squeaky Cricket recently?

Melissa glanced at Avis. “You will never guess in a million years who he met there.”

“Andre?” Avis asked, and I snapped to attention. The Squeaky Cricket was Andre Stogner’s new bar of choice. But coincidences do happen, I reminded myself.

“Jeepers, Avis, how’d you know?” Bobby was saying. “I went to Hastie’s today to tell Mel about meeting him, but she didn’t even know he was out yet.”

Mr. Sage shook his bald head. “I heard he’s been seen over there. How is Andre?”

“How do you think he is?” Melissa asked. “He just got out.”

“Got out of what,” Doreen bellowed. “Is anyone going to tell us who this Andre fellow is?”

“Or why we should care?” Spencer added and pointed me to the table.

But I stood my ground, determined to listen to Avis. He leaned on his cue stick and explained the significance of Andre Stogner, the man who had killed Lester Quinn thirteen years ago. For once the railbirds listened attentively and didn’t yammer at me to keep playing.

“I heard tell he was paroled,” Avis concluded. “I’ve been wondering if we’d see him in here again.” He looked at me. “Andre used to be a fine player.”

“Andre won’t be coming back to the Wade On Inn,” Bobby said. “He told me this place scares him.”

“Just like it scared you last night,” Melissa said.

He shrugged. “Shucks, maybe I was a little nervous,” he admitted.

Doreen reiterated her mantra that life’s too short to ever be scared.

“Yeah, but Bobby’s scared he’s the next one to go jail,” Melissa said. “The cops are onto him.”

Bobby frowned at her and explained to the rest of us what he and Melissa had discussed at Hastie’s earlier that day. Apparently he had learned about Wilson’s visit to his family, and the news had left Bobby a bit paranoid.

“That Captain Rye guy went clear down to Charlotte to talk to my mother,” Bobby said. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“She tell him what a fool you are?” Spencer asked. Miracles do happen—he was actually sinking a few balls.

“They asked her all kinds of personal questions.” Bobby pointed to himself and winced. “About me.”

“They think he’s the murderer,” Melissa announced.

Bobby again frowned at her. “That’s the last time I tell you a secret.” He appealed to the rest of us. “It made me nervous. Jeepers, wouldn’t you be nervous if your own mother thought you were a murderer?”

A few people, including myself, murmured in sympathy.

“But I decided I didn’t do nothing wrong, so here I am.” He gave his hands one swift clap and resumed that goofy smile. “And I’m with you, Tessie. Let’s find us the killer.”

Spencer looked up from the five ball and wished me luck. “You’ll need it if Decker’s helping you.”

Chapter 29

“Okay, Bobby,” I plunged ahead, ready to ruffle some feathers. “Since you’re so interested in the truth, tell us once and for all about this fling you had with Angela.” His face dropped. “Did you or didn’t you?”

“Didn’t!” He backed up and stepped on Ethel’s foot. “I already told you guys, lots of times. I was just bragging is all. There wasn’t nothing going on between us.”

Melissa shook her head. “That’s not what you said this afternoon.”

“What!?” Bobby shouted, and even the people on the dance floor glanced over. “What are you talking about, Mel?”

Spencer missed the six ball and stood up. “Whatever these two fools are arguing, Angela was never with Bobby.” He paused for effect. “She was with me.”

Doreen and Ethel exchanged a few hoots, hollers, and high-fives, as everyone else gasped in amazement, either at the news, or at the idea of Spencer Erring being so honest.

“And me,” Kevin said.

Heads snapped.

“And you what?” Doreen’s voice did tend to carry.

“Angela was with me.” Kevin spoke up. “After she broke it off with Erring.”

“What!?” Bobby and Melissa exclaimed in unison, and everyone gasped again.

“You mean to tell me that girl gave up you.” Ethel pointed at Spencer. “For you?” She looked back at Kevin.

He gazed at her over the top of his glasses. “Being single does have its advantages,” he said.

Doreen said she wasn’t so sure about that, and the old ladies high-fived again.

I myself was marveling at my good luck. Who would have imagined Bobby Decker, Spencer Erring, and Kevin Cooper all telling the truth? All at the same time?

Avis coughed. Oh yeah, my pool game. I cleared the table and began to collect my winnings.

“Does your wife know about your affair?” I asked Spencer as we shook hands.

He gripped my hand a bit too tightly. “You have a lot of nerve, you know that?”

“I told everyone about the cops and my mother.” Bobby came to my defense. “It’s your turn to fess up.”

“Answer Tessie’s question, Spencer.” That was Melissa. “Did Dixie know?”

“If you didn’t kill Angie, you have nothing to hide.” Kevin took off his glasses and tried to look threatening. Indeed, even Ethel and Doreen seemed to expect a straight answer.

“Okay, okay.” Spencer recovered his false charm and flashed a few dimples here and there for good measure. “Dixie doesn’t know about Angela. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Oh?” I asked, my tone implying who knows what.

Spencer lost the dimples. “I didn’t kill Angela to keep my wife in the dark, if that’s what you’re getting at. And I will remind everyone, Dixie’s thrown me out anyway.”

“But only after Angela died,” Melissa said, and I wondered if she had forgotten her fantasy that she herself was the cause of his marital problems.

I was shaking my head in confusion and dismay when Bobby invited me to play a match. He twisted his cowboy hat and grinned. “Shooting a few games will help us think better, Tessie.”

I mumbled that it certainly couldn’t hurt, and waited patiently while wagers were negotiated. Then Bobby and I did the lagging and the breaking thing, and I didn’t get back to dear Spencer until Bobby had our second game well underway.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked him. “Now that Angela’s gone?”

“Yeah, Spencer, what’s keeping you at the Wade On Inn?” Melissa demanded, and I almost felt sorry for the guy. If Melissa Purcell was giving him a hard time, maybe Spencer really was in trouble.

He appealed to me. “I hoped to get her back.”

“She was dead,” I reminded him.

“But none of us knew that for days, Tessie. And then what was I supposed to do? Just stop showing up? Like that wouldn’t have looked suspicious?”

“I hear you,” Kevin mumbled.

I kept my eyes on Spencer. “Why did you lie about the gun?”

“Huh?”

“The gun, Erring,” Kevin helped me out. “You knew about it all along.”

Darn it! Bobby missed the five ball. I stifled a groan and returned to the pool table to drop the five, six and seven. This pause might have given Spencer time to come up with a good lie about the gun, but apparently he couldn’t think of anything.

“Maybe Angela mentioned the gun,” he said quietly.

“Maybe?” Doreen and Ethel asked each other, their usual merriment all but gone.

“I’m not a complete idiot,” he snapped and looked back and forth at all of the women staring at him. “Between my affair with Angela and knowing about the gun? You don’t think that looks bad?”

“I hear you,” Kevin said again, and Spencer spun around.

“Are you, or are you not, accusing me of murder, Cooper?”

Kevin cleaned his glasses, and after an extremely pregnant pause, looked up. “Not,” he said.

Not!?

Demonstrating heroic self-control, I resisted the urge to pummel Kevin over the head with my cue stick. Wasn’t this just a fine time for him to be changing his tune? I must have groaned out loud because Spencer swung back around to challenge me.

“What about you, Tessie? Do you think I did it?”

I glanced at Kevin who refused to catch my eye. “I don’t know,” I said. I looked up and frowned at Spencer. “Frankly, I have no idea who killed anyone.”

I pushed him aside and waited while Bobby finished our second game. I racked for the third, determined to lose the stupid match and be free of a pesky pool game for at least a few minutes. My time at the Wade On Inn was running out. And I still had no idea.

***

“You know what doesn’t make any sense at all?” Avis asked as Bobby dived into game three.

I took a deep breath and endeavored to regain my patience. “What’s that, sir?” I asked.

He shook his head in bewilderment. “The Fox’s gun was a secret, Tessie. Only the three of us knew about it—Fritz, and Melissa, and me.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, old man!” Evidently Melissa wasn’t too worried about the patience thing. “Like I told you last night—everyone and his brother knew about that stupid gun. It’s been here since Lester got killed, for God’s sake.” She threw her hands into the air, announced that she needed a drink, and left us for the bar.

“She’s right.” Kevin watched her skirt around Mr. Leather and Chains.

“We all found out about the gun at some point or other,” Bobby agreed, as did the old ladies. And Spencer.

Utterly exasperated, I stepped up to the table. All of these people knew about the stupid gun. I shot in the five and six. All of them. The seven fell. I scanned the rest of the room. Henry knew, too, as did Elsa, and her daughter.

Oh, for Lord’s sake, the Drunken Dancer probably knew about it. And she had probably informed Mr. Leather and Chains!

I pocketed the eight and nine balls with far more gusto than necessary and reached up to collect the cash on top of the overhead light.

Avis led the applause as several large bills changed hands. A few of those bills were being placed into my hand when Henry wandered over from the dance floor.

I braced myself for a stern lecture on the evils of gambling to make my irksome evening complete, but Henry didn’t seem all that concerned.

He told Bobby that Karen was looking for a new dance partner, and dear Mr. Decker forgot all about helping yours truly catch the killer. Instead he grabbed his hat from Ethel and bounded out to join Karen, almost knocking Spencer Erring over in the process.

But Spencer was distracted by something across the room. In fact, I doubt he even noticed the game had finished or that the music had changed, since he was so busy staring off in Candy’s direction.

What was it with this guy and younger women? The railbirds were lining up to collect their winnings from him, and I joined the queue.

I pretended not to notice his interest in Candy. “I do believe this is Heidi Perkins and the Pink Flamingos,” I told him. “Karen loves their stuff.”

As if to prove my point, she and Bobby were attempting to get a line dance underway. But they had to work around the lone Drunken Dancer, who was stumbling about in the middle of the floor.

Spencer continued staring at the bar, uninterested in the dancers. I checked again and realized he was not focused on Candy after all. He was watching Melissa.

“The Pink Flamingos,” I repeated.

He heard me that time. “Is this really necessary?” he asked.

“Apparently. The crowd here really likes country and western music.”

“You know what I mean, Tessie,” he scolded. “All these questions about Angela?”

I patted his well-shaped forearm and promised I would pick on someone else for a change of pace, as one of the semi-regulars asked me for a match.

“One game,” I insisted. “Then it’s someone else’s turn.”

While she racked, I looked around the table. It was someone else’s turn. But who to pick on next?

Wilson popped into my head. Hadn’t he insisted days ago that I should stop worrying about everyone’s love life and instead concentrate on what actually happened on the nights of the murders?

I decided it was worth a try and appealed to the group. “Maybe if we all—you all—think about what exactly happened in here last week we can get somewhere. Did anything unusual happen around the time of the murders?”