Chapter 12
Vince Slater was dead, making him the center of my thoughts the next morning. Death by drowning at a lake just outside of town. On the surface, it looked like bad luck. But Vince was on the high school swim team.
I parked in front of The Rusty Spur and turned toward Cade. “You ready for a bite to eat and some intense grilling?”
“Always,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
I’d been eager to meet with Dwayne and Blake all morning, and the prospect of their barbecue was a welcome bonus.
We entered the restaurant and approached a cute, young waitress with a bright smile that lit up her freckled face. “Welcome in, y’all. Two of you for lunch?”
“Yes, please,” I said.
She grabbed a couple of menus off the counter. “Follow me.”
We were escorted to a booth. I sat down, and Cade slid in next to me, and she began rattling off the day’s specials—a burnt ends platter, a smoked turkey club with barbecue mayonnaise, and smoked meatloaf with mashed potatoes and cornbread muffins.
I was hungry enough to try all of it.
Cade ordered the burnt ends platter, and I went for the smoked turkey club. After we finished our meal, the waitress set the bill on the table, and I asked if I might speak with the owners. I suspected they were the two men I’d noticed earlier behind the bar in conversation.
The waitress shot me a nervous look like she worried I wanted to complain, and she said, “Was everything okay?”
“It was wonderful, and you’ve been great. I just need to ask them a few questions.”
“About …?”
“Tell them Sloane Monroe would like to speak to them about their former classmate, Gideon Belmont.”
Her face went pale, and she swallowed hard, but she did as I’d asked, and it wasn’t long before both men walked over, taking a seat across from us.
“I’m Blake, and this is Dwayne,” Blake said, thumbing in Dwayne’s direction. “What can we do for you?”
“I’m not sure if you heard, but Gideon’s sister Camille hired me to investigate his murder,” I said.
“Sheriff Briggs doesn’t need you sticking your nose in,” Blake said.
Cade leaned in, looking Blake in the eye. “That’s not for you to say.”
“And you are?”
“I’m the husband.”
“There’s no point in discussing whether I should be investigating his murder,” I said. “She asked. I accepted. That’s all there is to it.”
“I don’t see any reason why I should speak to you,” Blake said. “I know Briggs. I don’t know you.”
Dwayne swished a hand through the air. “Relax, Blake. We didn’t have anything to do with Gideon’s death. Why not talk to the lady?”
Blake shook his head and leaned back, going quiet.
“We have a meeting with one of our vendors in about fifteen minutes,” Dwayne said. “Until then, go ahead and ask your questions.”
I smiled and dug right in.
“I want to discuss your role in the bullying Gideon endured in high school,” I said.
Blake stared down at the table, Dwayne bit his lip, and I gave them space, hoping one would break the silence.
“We’re not proud of what we did back then,” Dwayne said. “Truth be told, I hadn’t thought much about it until my son started getting mistreated at school. Guess you can say it put it all into perspective. What we did was wrong. I see that now.”
He sounded sincere.
But was he?
I waited, giving Blake the opportunity to chime in, but he didn’t.
One out of two wasn’t bad.
“Word is, Vince Slater’s the one who put you up to picking on Gideon,” I said. “Was he?”
“Vince is dead,” Blake spat. “And he’s been dead a long time, which means he wasn’t involved in the murder either. Why bring him up?”
“His death doesn’t mean the murder isn’t connected to him somehow.”
“Connected how?” Dwayne asked. “If you’re thinking a relative of his could be responsible, you’re wrong. Vince’s father is in a wheelchair, and his mother passed away a few years back. He didn’t have any siblings, and no other relatives in town.”
Dwayne had a point.
I needed to pivot.
“Did either of you see or speak to Gideon when he was in town?” I asked.
“Nope,” Blake said.
Dwayne raised a brow, eyeing Blake like he wasn’t sure whether he believed him or not.
“I was passing by the bakery, and I saw him inside,” Dwayne said. “Hadn’t seen him in years, so I wasn’t sure it was him at first. I walked past, and then I turned around and decided to go in and speak to him.”
“When did you see him?”
Dwayne went quiet for a time, then said, “I’m sorry to say, we spoke a few hours before he was murdered. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told the sheriff. I had nothing to do with his murder.”
I appreciated the honesty, if in fact he was being honest.
“Tell me about your visit with Gideon,” I said.
“When I first walked in, he looked over, and it was obvious he wasn’t happy to see me. I thought I’d made a mistake approaching him, so I turned to leave. I’d almost made it to the door before he stopped me.”
“Then what happened?”
“I asked how he’d been, and we spoke for a few minutes about what my son’s been going through at school. Then I apologized.”
“How did he take your apology?”
“He thanked me and said he’d never felt the same way about me as he had about the others.”
Blake shot Dwayne a dirty look, huffing a frustrated, “Appreciate you tossing me to the wolves, dude.”
Dwayne raised his hands. “Hey, I’m just repeating what he said. You’re more than welcome to speak for yourself.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Blake said. “I’m done with this conversation.”
He rose and began to walk away, and I cut in with, “An exit fitting for a guilty person.”
He said nothing, as he entered a back room, slamming the door behind him.
“I know what you must be thinking,” Dwayne said. “Blake and I have spoken several times about the way we behaved when we were in high school, and I’m not the only one who harbors guilt. He does too. He just has a lousy way of showing it.”
Lousy or no, I found it suspicious.
“Why didn’t Gideon feel the same way about you as he did about the other guys?” I asked.
“When they were heckling him, I stayed silent. Standing by like that—it was its own kind of cruelty. I should’ve spoken up. I should’ve tried to stop it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was worried I’d lose them as friends.”
“Did you ever consider that might have been a good thing?”
He leaned back, crossing his arms. “I know how it looks, how we must seem to you. We’re good guys. I’d like to think we are, at least. Maybe we weren’t back then, but we’re different people now.”
Dwayne may have been different.
I wasn’t so sure about the others.
“If you and Blake didn’t murder Gideon, then who did?” I asked.
The restaurant door opened, and a woman in a fitted blue pantsuit and a blue floral headscarf walked in.
Dwayne rose and mentioned the woman was his next appointment. Then he added, “Now, about your question—who’s responsible for Gideon’s death? That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”