Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(18)

“No.” Logan shook his head. “He paid a fine, did community service, and took anger-management classes.”

Logan read off Peter Evans’s address, and Tessa drove to a two-story house near the center of town. She parked on the curb. The garage door was open. Inside, a man in his late twenties punched a heavy bag that hung from the ceiling. His hands were wrapped, he was stripped to the waist, and sweat poured off him.

Tessa shut off the engine, her eyes on the fighter. “Well, he would certainly be strong enough to dispose of a dead body.”

“I guess.” Logan didn’t like the way she was looking at the other man. But the guy did look like he could bench-press a Chevy. “You’re staring.”

Tessa’s mouth quirked, and her eyes were laughing. “Just making a professional assessment.”

“Uh-huh.” Logan got out of the vehicle and followed her up the short driveway. The fighter delivered a right cross to the bag, sending it swinging.

“Peter Evans?” Tessa called.

The man halted. “Yes.”

“We’d like to ask you a few questions about Jason McCoy,” Tessa said.

“Sure.” Peter stepped away from the bag. He tugged off his boxing gloves and began to unwrap his hands. “I’m done anyway.”

“When did you see Jason last?” Tessa began.

Peter tossed his equipment aside and reached for a towel. “Sunday night. I went to see him at his office.”

“What did you talk about?” Tessa asked.

Peter dropped the towel on the workbench. He picked up a sweatshirt and pulled it over his head. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time.” Tessa hooked her thumbs in her duty belt.

Peter’s nostrils flared, and the tendons in his neck corded with tension. The guy was a bull and clearly had a short fuse. Logan was very glad he was here with Tessa.

“He owed me money.” Peter bit off the words.

Logan cut to the chase. “He also fired you, didn’t he?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed as they shifted to Logan. “If you already know, why are you asking me?”

Roger Duvall might not have much of a temper, but Peter Evans was a hothead.

Tessa stepped forward. “Because Jason was murdered.”

Peter didn’t react.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Logan said.

Peter mopped his face again. “The only thing that surprises me is that no one killed him sooner.”

Tessa placed a hand on Logan’s forearm and then addressed Peter. “Tell us what happened between you and Jason.”

Peter turned and grabbed a water bottle from his workbench. He drank in long swallows, and Logan wondered if he was thirsty or thinking.

He finished half of the bottle. “Jason accused me of stealing materials. Then he fired me. Before you ask, I didn’t do it.”

“Then why did he accuse you?” Tessa asked.

Peter set down the bottle. “Because he didn’t want to pay me.”

“Why not?” Tessa asked.

“I don’t know.” A vein on Peter’s temple throbbed. “That’s why I went to see him on Sunday. I’ve been calling, but he refused to take my calls or return my messages.” Peter paused, exhaling hard. “On Sunday, he refused to pay me again.”

“And you just let him throw you out of his office?” Logan smelled bullshit. “Jason was what, thirty years older than you?”

“Figuratively speaking.” Peter’s jaw sawed back and forth.

“You didn’t resist?” Logan asked.

“No.” Peter didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t blink as he and Logan stared at each other. “I took an anger-management course. Apparently, some of it stuck.”

Tessa interrupted. “How long did you work for Jason?”

“Two years,” Peter said.

“Before he fired you, did you have any other disagreements with Jason?” Tessa asked.

Peter rolled his neck. Something cracked. “Jason fought with everybody. He enjoyed it.”

“So why did you work for him?”

“Are you new here?” Anger flushed Peter’s face. “There aren’t that many jobs.”

Logan was tiring of Peter’s attitude. “Did he provide any evidence or tell you why he thought you were stealing from him?”

“If he had proof, he would have filed charges. Instead, he spread rumors.” Peter gnashed his teeth. “He trashed my reputation. I’m going to have to go to the mainland for work now. But my wife doesn’t want to move away from her family. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Tessa leaned forward. “Where were you on Monday afternoon?”

“Here.” Peter jerked a thumb toward his heavy bag.

Tessa persisted. “Did anyone see you here? The mailman, your wife, a delivery service . . .”

“No. My wife was working, and we can’t afford to shop online right now, not with me unemployed.” Peter’s jaw jutted, and his posture stiffened.

“Can you explain the assault conviction on your record?” Tessa asked.

Peter flinched. Rage radiated from every inch of his body. “That was bullshit.”

“A lot of bullshit happens to you,” Logan pointed out, mostly to draw Peter’s attention away from Tessa. She could handle herself, but if there was going to be violence, he preferred it to happen to him, not her.