Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(36)

At the end of the day that was really none of his concern.

He looked at the chair where Hawkins had been sitting. There were traces of blood on it, not from the exit wound since there hadn’t been one. The splatter from the entry wound had been the source.

Pillow, gun, dead guy. No witnesses.

He looked around the rest of the room. It had already been thoroughly searched and nothing else had been found.

They’d gotten the postmortem report on Hawkins but not the tox screen yet. His stomach had been empty. But what was in his bloodstream?

Decker closed his eyes and dialed up his cloud. Hawkins had told him at the cemetery that he was going to take something to help him sleep, after spending a few hours throwing up. There had been no evidence of that in the bathroom, but he might have cleaned it up. But there had also been no sign of meds, either illegal or not.

They’d checked the Dumpster at the rear of the building and found nothing there either. Had whoever killed him taken the meds for some reason? Why would that be? What could they have revealed?

He went back to his room, put his few clothes away, cleaned up, and, suddenly hungry, went in search of dinner.

He chose Suds because it was close and cheap. He sat at the bar and ordered a beer, and a burger and fries with chili. He involuntarily looked over his shoulder once, thinking that Jamison might swoop in and chastise him for the cardiac killer meal plan.

He turned to his right when the person sat down next to him a few minutes later.

Rachel Katz eyed the bandage around his head. “What happened to you?”

“Cut myself shaving,” replied Decker as he took a sip of beer.

She looked down at his plate. “Not into organics, I take it.”

“What’s more organic than meat and potatoes?”

She smiled. “You have a comeback for everything. I didn’t see that in you all those years ago.”

She ordered a glass of Prosecco.

He glanced sideways at her. “Somehow, I didn’t figure you for a Suds patron.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She leaned over next to him. “I’m the majority owner of this bar.” She straightened and studied Decker for his reaction to this.

“I’m impressed at the diversity of your holdings. From penthouses to pubs.”

She smiled. “Another quip. Good for you. If the detective thing doesn’t work out, fall back on stand-up, no pun intended.”

Her drink arrived, and she took a sip of it, filling her hand with nuts from a bowl in front of them.

“So, how’s the investigation coming?”

“It’s coming.”

“I thought you would have solved the whole thing by now.”

“Investigations don’t work that way. They’re on their own timetable.”

“But you solved my husband’s murder really fast.”

“Did I?” he shot back.

She munched her almonds and peanuts and looked around the full bar. “It’s good to see the town getting back on its feet, isn’t it?” she asked.

“So when you finish rebuilding Burlington, what’s next?”

She swiveled around and leaned back against the bar. “I’m not sure. There are lots of places like Burlington, but not all have the potential to make a comeback. I don’t want to make a ton of money here and blow it on another place that will never make it out of the abyss.”

“So how do you calculate that?”

“I won’t bore you with the statistics, but a lot of number crunching goes into it. Luckily, as a CPA, my background is all about number crunching. And those numbers can be magic, a road map into the future, if you know how to read them right. All successful people do that.”

“All financially successful people, you mean.”

“Is there any other kind?” She added quickly, “Just kidding. I know we need more Mother Teresas in the world. I’m just not one of them. Not how I’m wired.”

“And how are you wired?”

“Me first, I guess. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. I don’t like hypocrites. I know enough people who pretend to care about others while they’re stabbing them in the back. I stab people in the chest. They can see it coming from a mile away.”

“Thing is, they’re still dead,” replied Decker.

“Yes, but at least they have a chance to defend themselves,” she said sweetly, draining her drink and waving for another one, which was immediately delivered. “I hear Susan Richards has gone missing?”

Decker put down his burger and looked over at her. “And where did you hear that?”

“Oh, come on, I heard it on the town gossip network ages ago. I wonder why she would have disappeared like that?”

Decker said, “Guilt?”

Katz took a sip of her Prosecco. “I didn’t say that, but the timing is awfully peculiar.”

“Timing in homicide investigations often is.”

“You’re the expert on that, not me. So, do you think she killed Meryl Hawkins and took off before the cops found proof that she murdered him?”

“Speaking of proof, did you ever come up with an alibi for the time of his death?”

“I was at dinner with a business associate until eleven-thirty or so. Then he drove me home. We got to my place around midnight. I think that lets me off the hook.”