The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(26)

Fallow picked up a pencil off the table and rolled it between his fingers. “Not her thing. She’s not much into guns. Or socializing.”

“You said he used to have a Fourth of July party. When did he quit?”

“A few years ago.” Fallow stared off into space for a minute. “I don’t really know why he quit. Red got a little strange the last couple of years. He quit going out. Hung out with the Gunners and that was about it. We’d even bring him supplies from town.”

“Any theories on why he quit going out?”

“Not really. Just didn’t like people very much.”

“Red have trouble with anyone? Anyone dislike him?”

“I think a lot of people disliked him, if you want the truth. He was a blowhard. He could be mean, you know? He tried to make you look weak so he looked strong.”

“Give me an example.”

Fallow pursed his lips a moment in thought. He finally pointed the pencil at Otto and said, “Okay. At our last meeting, I asked a question about the guns. About storing them somewhere a little safer than Red’s living room. Makes sense, right? Hack gave me grief, then Red egged him on. Wanted to know what I was afraid of. I said, ‘Hey, you want someone knocking down your door to get at your guns, then fine.’ Red told me I was stupid. A pansy. Didn’t have the balls to be a true Gunner.”

“Where do you think the guns are?”

“I have no idea. I just know they were worth a lot of money. And if they had listened to me, Red might still be living.”

*

Back in Artemis, Josie dropped Marta off at the department. She had one more task to accomplish before heading home that night. Red’s body had been found the day before, and she had not talked with his daughter, Colt Goff, an angry twenty-year-old who was known locally for her support of the liberal left. Josie had interviewed Colt for an evening dispatcher’s position about a year ago, but the girl had refused to unspike her hair or remove her facial piercings. She had given up a six-dollar-an-hour raise from what she made stacking books at the public library.

Colt lived above the Family Value Store in the run-down part of town. The downtown grid of streets in Artemis was shaped like a tic-tac-toe board, with the southernmost horizontal street containing the low-rent businesses and a few apartments. City offices and the more upscale stores were located closest to the courthouse; the nicer homes were a block back, the shabbier homes and cheap apartments were three blocks back, on the fringes of the downtown area. Josie parallel-parked in front of the Family Value Store and walked up a narrow flight of stairs that led from the street to the only apartment at the top of the landing.

Colt answered the door in a pair of red plaid boxers and a man’s V-neck undershirt. She looked bored, but Josie thought it was affected. Her hair was jet black and spiked, but the long spikes drooped around her head like wilted grass. Her face was pierced, with studs in her nose, eyebrows, and tongue, and black eyeliner was smudged under both eyes. She looked like a young woman in need of a good night’s sleep and a bath.

“What took you so long?” the girl asked, and leaned her shoulder against the doorframe to her apartment. “I figured I’d be first on your list of suspects.”

“I’m sorry about your dad, Colt.”

Colt pinched her thumb and forefinger together in front of her eye, looking through the crack between them. “Honestly, I’m not even the teensiest bit sad.”

“Do you mind if I come in for a minute to ask you some questions?”

“I’m good with here,” Colt said.

Josie sighed. “I’m too tired to play games tonight. Let’s just go inside and have a seat and talk about a few things.”

The girl stared at Josie a moment, then turned away quickly, leaving Josie to follow. The small living room was littered with pizza boxes, newspapers, books, dirty dishes, and clothes. With her back to Josie, Colt opened a newspaper and covered the contents on the coffee table as if laying out a tablecloth. Josie wondered what kind of drug paraphernalia lay beneath it.

“When’s the last time you talked with your dad?” Josie asked. She pulled a small notepad out of her shirt pocket and sat on the couch opposite Colt, who had pulled over a chair from the kitchen table.

“About two weeks ago. He stopped by my apartment to tell me my ex-boyfriend, Jessup Lamey, got picked up in El Paso. Thrown in the pokey for possession. It was a sweet conversation. Very loving, as you can imagine.” She rolled her eyes and lifted the newspaper high enough to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Do you have any idea who might have killed your dad?” Josie asked.

“Anyone with a gun and half a brain.”

“A little more specific.”

“It’s not like we ran with the same crowd.”

“You don’t know of anyone specifically who would want to see your father killed?”

She cocked her head and pursed her lips with a forefinger on her temple. “Let’s see. Me. My ex. The mayor. The people he called his friends. The people he called his enemies. You.” She gave Josie a half smile. “Because, let’s face it. You don’t mind Red’s gone, do you? He was a pain in the proverbial ass.”

“Can you tell me where you were yesterday from about eight in the morning through dinnertime?”