Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(39)
“And?”
“From here things get a bit vague,” Josie said.
“Because?”
Brenda leaned forward and clicked her fingernails on the table to get Josie’s attention. “Excuse me.” Her voice was low and quiet, her eyes angry. “I’m sitting right here. Since you’re talking about my husband and me, wouldn’t it make sense to address us as if we were a part of this conversation?” Her tone was flat but the muscles in her face were taut with fury.
Josie locked eyes with Brenda. “At six p.m., you either left for Austin, or you returned home and committed murder.”
Brenda sat back up in her seat and withdrew her arm into her lap, her face bright red.
“You’re way out of line, Chief,” said Turner. “They’ve already told you they drove to Austin and went to Gilly’s, and then checked in at the Hampton.”
“Did you use your credit card at Gilly’s to buy your first round of drinks when you arrived at one?”
Josie could tell by the three expressions sitting across from her that the answer was no.
“They paid with cash. A legal form of currency last time I checked,” Turner said.
“What time did you check in at the hotel?”
“Two twenty-five in the morning, just after the bars closed,” Turner said. “Just like they told you.” She opened up her briefcase and shuffled through it for a moment. Finally she shoved a piece of paper across the desk and Josie read the hotel name across the top of the paper.
“If the Nixes checked into the Hampton at two twenty-five, that would have allowed plenty of time for them to have murdered a man and set fire to the house before making the six-to-seven-hour drive to Austin.”
Billy looked bereft. “I don’t understand why you would suspect us of murder. What could we possibly gain by killing someone and burning down our own house?”
“What kind of homeowner’s insurance do you carry?” Otto asked, picking up his pencil as if ready to write down the policy number.
Billy wrinkled his forehead and looked at Brenda. “I don’t know. We rent the house,” he said.
“Okay. Let’s cut to the chase,” Turner said. “Are you charging my clients with a crime? If you are, let’s get it over with. Otherwise, we’re leaving until you come up with something more than circumstantial pondering.”
“I would suggest trying to find someone who can vouch for your whereabouts Sunday night from the hours of six until one in the morning. We’re not filing charges, but you are the primary suspects.” Josie paused for a moment. “If you didn’t commit this crime, then help us figure out who did.”
*
After the Nixes left, Josie and Otto spent the afternoon working in a companionable silence. Otto cataloged evidence they had collected from the Nixes’ home the night before, and Josie caught up on phone calls and e-mails until 12:45, when she left to interview the lead singer for the Calloway Boys. Mick Sinner owned an upholstery shop behind the fire station in Artemis and had agreed to talk with Josie after lunch.
The shop was a small clapboard bungalow painted navy blue with white trim. A covered front porch was decorated with a vase of flowers on an end table with a wicker rocking chair sitting beside it. A framed sign on the table read, If you are here for upholstery business, please walk around to the garage in back. We are open M-F from 8:00–3:00. Thank you! It was a homier setup than Josie would have imagined.
Josie followed a sidewalk around to the back of the house, where she found a two-car garage with the door closed. An OPEN sign hung on an entrance door to its right. Josie pushed the door open and found a man and woman standing in front of a tattered couch on a large worktable that put the couch about three feet high. They were both prying staples out of the wood and removing fabric that looked to have once been a flowered print. Patches of the fabric were disintegrated and faded to light shades of gray, brown, and yellow.
The man continued working but the woman looked up and smiled. She was petite, barely over five feet, with a slim frame. Her black jeans, white V-neck T-shirt, and short haircut gave her the look of a young girl, but the fine lines around her eyes made Josie guess she was in her early fifties. She wiped her hands on a towel draped over her shoulder. “Hi! I bet you’re Chief Gray.”
They shook hands. “That’s correct.”
“I’m Vicki. Good to meet you.” She pointed toward a kitchenette in the corner of the room where a table and chairs were located. “Let’s have a seat.”
Josie sat down as Vicki pulled a pitcher of water from the refrigerator and filled three glasses. Josie felt air blowing on her and noticed ductwork in the open ceiling area for central air and heating. She also noted several other pieces of furniture sitting along the far side of the garage, waiting to be worked on.
“I would have never guessed there was such a market for upholstery work in a small town,” Josie said, making small talk and hoping Mick would join them.
“We have a nice little niche here. People don’t have a lot of furniture options in town, what with being so far from the city. So we buy up classic furniture at flea markets in El Paso and reupholster. We have clients now that send us pictures of what they want and we find it for them, then find a fabric they love. It’s turned into a good little business.”
Mick finally moved away from the couch and brushed the lint and stray pieces of fabric off his T-shirt and jeans before coming over to the table. Black hair hung in loose ringlets down to his shoulders and gave his pale angular face a softer appearance. He was thin and dressed in the same uniform of black jeans and V-neck T-shirt that the woman was wearing.