Weddings & Weapons Page 6

  “Exactly. You are only here for a few more days and will never see these people again. So what’s the harm?”

  At least he was being honest, I guess that counted for something but what he was proposing didn’t feel right to me. It seemed shady and, even though I didn’t really know these people, I didn’t want to be seen as “that girl.” Besides, what if I wanted to come back on another vacation some day.

  “It doesn’t seem exactly ethical or, more importantly, nice. I know I’ll never see these people again, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.”

  “You’re not hurting anyone. You’re trying to solve a murder. To find out what criminal activity is going on in this town. To protect the innocent townspeople from the bad things happening. You have good intentions. So do I.”

  While he was laying it on just a little thick, I thought about it and I couldn’t deny the idea of trying to solve these murders and be the hero was appealing. Sheldon was right. It’s not like I was going to be here long. Why be so resistant? I was already involved to a certain extent. I might as well team up with him while I was here and get more of my questions answered.

  “Fine. I’ll help you. On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You tell me everything you know. That we have a full disclosure of information, both directions. No secrets.”

  He paused for a second. If he didn’t agree to this I wasn’t helping him. This wasn’t going to be a one-way street. If I was going to give up beach time he needed to be all in.

  “It’s a deal,” he said and held out his hand to shake mine in true gentlemen’s agreement fashion.

  “So, do you have any information about what happened last night? When I was there Paul and Allison said they didn’t know the person.”

  “My contact at the police station said it was one of the men who lived out at the compound.”

  “The Wickam Place?”

  His eyebrows raised. “You know it?”

  “Sort of. Did your contact know who it was?’

  “Not yet. He said the Sheriff is being uncharacteristically closed mouthed about the two deaths. That’s what leads me to believe there’s something bigger going on here.”

  “Couldn’t it be because this is a small town and this is a lot to happen in a short while? The Sheriff has to be overwhelmed. I’m surprised he hasn’t called in the FBI or something.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Resources.”

  “Maybe, but the little I know about the Sheriff, I doubt he’d want outsiders here if he could help it. All the more reason to help him by investigating on our own.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes I do. We need to hack into the police station computer.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, now I know you’re crazy.” I said, holding up my hands. “We can’t sneak into the police station. It’s a police station! That won’t get us information, it’ll just get us arrested and that is not on my vacation fun list.”

  “I didn’t say sneak into the police station. I said hack into the police computer. If we can hack into it, we can find out the identities of the two murder victims. I can do it. I just need someone to provide a distraction so I can get behind the desk. That’s where you come in.”

  “No way. Absolutely not. No wonder your contact won’t do that for you. It’s insane. Think of a different way.”

  “We have to do this. We need to find out who those guys were before we can do anything else and this plan won’t land us in jail. I promise.”

  “Surely there’s another way we can get this information?” I didn’t want any part of doing something illegal in general, much less inside a police station. I didn’t even like to jaywalk. I had a healthy respect for the law.

  “If you can think of one, I’m all for it but I haven’t been able to and we need to find out who those men were. We’re never going to get anywhere until we do,” he said adamantly.

  “Ok, hypothetically speaking if we did do this how exactly would we do it?” I asked, immediately regretting it.

  I couldn’t believe I was even entertaining this thought, but as much as I knew it was a bad idea I couldn’t help but to want to find out more. Curiosity always got the best of my common sense. Cooper would kill me if he knew what I might be up too. One of the small perks of him being far away. He wouldn’t find out. At least I hoped. He had a funny way of always suspecting when I was involved in something I possibly shouldn’t be and getting me to tell him. He knew me too well and I was rarely able to hide things from him.

  “I need you to distract the person at the front desk so I can get behind the counter and access the computer. “

  “And you’re positive you can access the information we need?”

  “You mean you’ll do it?”

  I hesitated. All the things that made this a very bad idea ran through my head and that list was five times longer than the mental list of the positive outcomes, which was just one if I were bring honest. Finding who was responsible for the murders, which wasn’t my problem to begin with.

  “Please? I can’t do this without you,” he pleaded, his attitude a far cry from the other day when he insisted this was his thing and he didn’t want outside help.

  “Ok. But,” I cautioned, holding my finger up as a warning. “If we get there and it seems too risky, I’m out. I don’t want the information bad enough to get in trouble.”

  His smile grew wide. “You won’t regret this. Nothing bad will happen.”

  I wish I was as sure as he was.

  “Now do you know anything about the person at the front who I need to distract?” I asked. “How I’m supposed to go about doing this?”

  “I do. Her name is Pam Robbins and she’s worked as the station receptionist for as long as I can remember. Since I was a kid and we went there on a field trip in fourth grade. I know exactly how you can get her away from her desk. It will be a piece of cake. Trust me.”

  Trust him. Ha. If only I could.

  An hour later we were on the sidewalk in front of the police station. Sheldon wasn’t about to waste any time after I’d said I would help him and barely let me finish my coffee before dragging me downtown.

  “We can’t loiter here forever. Are you sure this is going to work?” I asked nervously, already regretting the decision to get mixed up in this.

  “Relax. I hang out here all the time. No one is going to think anything of it. They’re used to me being around, being nosy. Besides, we need to make sure everyone else is gone. This won’t work unless Pam is the only one in there. Luckily, we’re a small town and don’t have a big police force.”

  I was way too antsy to wait but it didn’t look like I had much of a choice. I restlessly scrolled through Facebook, but even that couldn’t keep my mind off what we were about to do. I should be on the beach enjoying sunshine and my vacation, not getting ready to be an accessory to a crime.

  “C’mon. I think we’re safe,” Sheldon said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What do you mean you think? Shouldn’t you be sure?”

  “Ok, I’m sure,” he said impatiently. “Now follow my lead and do exactly what I told you.”

  He walked into the building with me closely on his heels. The receptionist, an older woman with a cute pixie haircut and well-manicured nails, looked up and smiled. “Sheldon, so wonderful of you to come visit me,” she said and stood up to give him a hug over the counter. He hadn’t been lying when he said he hung out here a lot. He clearly wasn’t a stranger.

  “Good to see you too, Pam. How’s John?”

  “He’s doing good. Driving me crazy since he retired. That’s what keeps me working. I need my space,” she said and laughed. “Who’s this beautiful gal you’ve brought with you?”

  “Pam, meet Presley. Presley, Pam.”

  “Nice to meet you, dear.”

  “Likewise,” I said.

  “Presley is here visiting from Chicago and we r
an into each other at the diner. I thought I’d show her some of the sites around our wonderful town.”

  “You consider the police station a site? Sheldon, you don’t take a pretty young lady to visit the small-town police station. Take her to the farmers market, or Thompson’s Gardens. Someplace pretty.”

  I had a feeling Pam was getting the wrong idea about why I was hanging out with Sheldon. She looked like the type who liked to fix people up and I think she had her eyes on us as a couple.

  “Well, I may have told her about your collection and Presley here likes antiques. I thought maybe you could show her a few?”

  “You collect badges?” Pam asked, her eyes lighting up. Sheldon wasn’t kidding when he told me this was her thing. She looked thrilled that someone was asking about her hobby.

  “No, but I love the history surrounding antiques and the stories collectors have about their treasures,” I said, which was a complete lie. Hopefully she didn’t ask me too many questions or she’d know pretty quickly that I knew nothing about antiques at all.

  “I was hoping if you weren’t busy you could tell Presley a few stories about how you got started and about some of the pieces. I can stand here and yell back in case someone comes in and needs you.”

  “Oh, I would love too. Follow me dear.” I followed Pam and glanced over my shoulder at Sheldon, who nodded. Things were going according to plan so far. He was right. All it took was a slight mention of checking out her collection and she was totally distracted. I just hoped I could feign interest long enough to give him time to do what he needed to do and that she didn’t see through me.

  About fifteen minutes later I heard Sheldon yell. I found myself a little disappointed. To my surprise I’d become interested in what Pam had to say. She had police badges dating back almost a hundred years and while she said not every one of them had a story, one that she knew anyway, the stories she did share were fascinating. I could see why she’d want to collect them.

  “You could write a book about these, Pam. People would love to hear the stories,” I said, as we walked the short distance back up to the front. Pam had told me she started collecting shortly after she started working at the station about thirty years ago, the job sparking her interest, and one day one of the officers had stopped by her house to pick something up for a charity auction and saw her collection. He went back to the station and told the Sheriff, who insisted she bring them to display at the station to pay honor to all the policemen before them. Pam said she hadn’t minded as it allowed many more people to see and enjoy them than had they been in her home and she continued to add to the collection over the years.

  There was a gentleman waiting up at the desk, presumably for Pam and Sheldon gave me a big smile as we approached. I hoped that meant he’d got what we’d came for.

  “Thank you, Pam, for showing me everything. It’s a great collection.”

  “Anytime. Thanks for stopping by and Sheldon, don’t be such a stranger,” she said, winking at him.

  We headed out the door and down the sidewalk. “Did you get it?”

  He nodded and kept walking, heading in the direction of the bar I’d first found him at. “Let’s talk in here.”

  I grabbed his arm as he was about to grab the door to go in. “Are you sure this is the best place to talk?”

  “I’m in here all the time. People would find it odd if I didn’t come as part of my daily routine and trust me, no one pays attention to me.”

  I followed him in and he headed toward the same back table he’d been at before. He must be a creature of habit along with everyone else in here. It looked like the same faces were in here that were here the other day. People were so interesting. There was a certain Starbucks that I loved and would often go out of my way to go there, even if another one was closer, because I knew the people working. Having that familiarity was comforting.

  “The usual, Sheldon?” the waitress asked.

  “You know it, Donna.”

  “What can I get you, sweetheart?”

  “Coffee please?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Ok, spill!” I demanded when Donna was out of earshot.

  Sheldon pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “The guy you found. His name was Juan Vasquez, thirty-one, from Ft. Smith, Arkansas. The person killed at the mansion was Roger Barrett.”

  “The militia guy?” I exclaimed.

  “You know Roger?” Sheldon said, surprised.

  “I was out to eat and I heard him talking to Eric, Janet’s grandson, you know, Janet from the diner and he said something about Glen. So I assumed he meant the Glen guy from the militia, which made me assume he was also part of the group.”

  He looked seriously confused. “Wait a minute. Back up. How do you know Glen? Or Janet or Eric for that matter.”

  I recounted the story of the argument witnessed at the diner and then the subsequent conversation with Janet. “So, I don’t really know any of them. I know of them.” I shuddered. “And what I’ve seen I don’t really like. Well of Glen and Roger. Janet seems nice.”

  “Glen and Roger are a bit rough. People steer clear of them.”

  “I kind of got that feeling, which is why I found it odd that I saw Glen at the mansion last night. At the party Allison and Paul had.”

  That comment garnered another surprised look from Sheldon. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he be at their party?”

  The waitress sat down their drinks. “Anything else I can get you right now?”

  “We’re good. Thank you,” Sheldon said, taking a drink of his amber colored liquid.

  “Isn’t it a little early in the day to be hitting the hard stuff?” I said in a somewhat joking manner, because I didn’t want to offend him. He was an adult and could do what he wanted, but I did think it early in the day to be drinking liquor.

  Sheldon started laughing. “It’s ginger ale. Straight up ginger ale. I swear!”

  I took another glance and saw the bubbles. “Oh.” I felt embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made that assumption.”

  “It’s OK. I actually don’t drink. Ginger ale is it and maybe an Arnold Palmer if I’m feeling especially frisky.”

  “Then why spend all your time in a bar? Is it the ambiance?” I said, looking around thinking this atmosphere wouldn’t be my first choice as a hang out, but then each to his own.

  “Call it masochistic of me. I’m an alcoholic. Sober two years, six months, and thirteen days.”

  “Congratulations.” Though it made even less sense to me why, if he was prone to alcohol addiction, he would be in a bar all the time. It seemed like it would be akin to me trying to quit coffee and still hanging out in Starbucks. The temptation would be too great. I’d never hold out. Apparently my confusion was on my face because he continued.

  “I feel good being in here and spitting in the face of temptation. Everyone here knows I’m an alcoholic and if I tried to order a drink they wouldn’t serve me and would immediately make me call my sponsor. Benefit of a small town, I guess to have all that support. It makes me feel good about myself to walk out of here each day sober,” he said sheepishly, as if he was a little embarrassed to be sharing this part of his life.

  “I think that’s great. Really. I admire your strength.” He looked embarrassed at my words, but I meant them. Sobriety was an accomplishment.

  “Back to Glen. Do you think he knows them? Allison and Paul?”

  “I don’t think he was a guest. I think he snuck in. I saw him head down some stairs off the kitchen and I followed him. The stairs led to an underground cellar and I think to the outside. I don’t know for sure, because I didn’t follow him all the way, but I could feel a breeze like a door was open. I don’t know what he was doing, but I heard him talking to some other guys down there and when I went back up the door was locked.” I finished telling him everything I’d heard between Glen and the guys and Allison and Paul when they didn’t know I was listening.


  “There has to be a connection here somewhere,” Sheldon said. “Do you think Roger was one of the guys Glen was talking too?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I only heard his voice that once and I was so scared they might catch me listening I couldn’t really tell. I could barely hear them anyway.”

  We were silent and I could tell Sheldon was thinking. I nursed my coffee and gave him time to process whatever he was thinking.

  Finally, he spoke. “I think we should talk to Glen.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you nuts? What would we even ask him? Hey, did you kill your friend Roger? Like he would tell us if he did?”

  “We could at least see his reaction.”

  “And if he did kill Roger, he would then know we suspected him and I don’t think that would bode well for us. If he killed one of his own what would stop him from killing us?”

  “I guess you have a point,” he conceded. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Than getting killed? I’m sure I can think of one. Anything would be better than talking to Glen.” I thought for a second and snapped my fingers. “Eric. We talk to Eric. Find out why Roger was threatening him. It could be connected to what got him killed. And at least Eric doesn’t seem dangerous.”

  “I don’t know.” Sheldon said, not seeming to like the idea much.

  “What can it hurt?” It might not be the best idea in the world, but it was better than talking to a potential murderer.

  “OK, but I’m still not sure this is the best option.”

  Chapter 7

  We walked to the diner and Sheldon went in and asked one of the waitresses if Eric was working. When she said yes, we decided to wait out in the parking lot to catch him when he was leaving, neither one of us wanting to bother him at work. The diner was only open for breakfast and lunch and it was already after noon, so we wouldn’t have to wait long.

  To pass the time we talked about our backgrounds and played a trivia game on an app on my phone. Now that I was getting to know him a little better, I thought he seemed like a decent guy.