Chapter 17
Eli’s minute had stretched to fifteen. Tori leaned back in the corner of the booth.
She’d managed to get him off the subject of their teen years, and they were discussing which team would win the World Series this year.
She studied the two men. Eli, blond haired and clean shaven, dressed in a light-blue polo shirt and dress slacks that perfectly fit his lean runner’s body.
Except somehow she doubted he was a runner.
And then Scott with his dark, three-day stubble and wearing jeans and a short-sleeved black henley that strained against his rock-solid biceps. There couldn’t be two men less alike.
She was curious about Scott’s tattoos. Why did he choose a mountain road on one arm and a rose on the other? The man was a contradiction.
Tired of their baseball conversation, she leaned forward. “Come on, guys, it’s only the middle of May. There’s no way to predict which team will even be in the World Series, much less win it. Tell me about Jenny Tremont.”
Conversation stopped. You’d think she’d dropped a bomb between them. Tori turned to Eli. “She worked for you. What was she like?”
His mouth tightened, then he held up his hand with his palm toward her. “Jenny didn’t work for me—she did the accounting and deposited the cash that Stephanie collected from the convenience stores and laundromats.”
Scott leaned forward. “Why don’t the managers make the deposits?
Eli snorted. “You evidently don’t know my father. He wants to see the money before it goes in the bank.”
“But you knew her,” Tori said.
“Not really. It’s not like we ran in the same circles,” Eli said. “I mean, not meaning any disrespect, but we didn’t exactly have the same interests.”
How would he know that unless he knew what her interests were? Eli was hiding something, and she would find out—extracting information was her superpower. And she wouldn’t have to resort to thumb screws or a torture rack. Tori eyed him. “Logan Point isn’t cliquish. Did you go to church with her?”
“Not that I know of . . .”
“She went to my church, Faith United,” Scott said quietly.
Faith United was the same church her sister attended now. And probably Drew. Maybe that would partly explain the reason Drew was so close to Jenny. It still stung a little that he turned to his mother’s friend first after Beth died. Tori and Drew had been tight for years, and she let him down.
But it wouldn’t have just been the church connection. What Jenny did for Beth would have made an impression on Drew. He loved his mother and would have bonded with Jenny. More proof he couldn’t have killed her.
If only he would talk to Tori about what happened instead of talking around the subject. She looked up as Scott spoke again.
“Jenny worked with the teens, had for years,” he said. “She taught a girls’ Sunday school class.”
That made her heart ache. “Her death will really be hard for those girls.”
“I know.” Scott’s face was grim. “Our youth minister and a few of the parents who work with the youth were meeting with her class tonight.”
Earlier she’d gotten the impression Scott and Jenny were not much more than acquaintances, and now it sounded like he knew her pretty well. Why was he just now telling her? Maybe because we haven’t had much time alone to talk?
“Enough about Jenny. What have you been doing?”
Tori barely caught Eli’s question. “Sorry, I zoned out there for a second. What did you say?”
“I asked what you’ve been up to since you left the TV station in Knoxville,” he said.
“I didn’t realize you even knew I was a reporter.” Much less that he knew she’d left.
“Of course I did. The whole town knew you were—we don’t have many celebrities in Logan Point.”
Celebrity? That she didn’t aspire to. Never had. The one thing she didn’t like about being a TV reporter was viewers recognizing her in public. And that didn’t compare to being a real celebrity.
Tori had seen firsthand the dark side of some celebrities’ lifestyles while investigating some of the cases for the podcast. She was perfectly happy with her life like it was.
“I have a true crime podcast,” she said. “Do you remember Amy Bradsher?”
“You mean Short Stuff?”
“She’s my producer. I don’t think she’d appreciate the high school nickname, but yes.”
“I don’t have the patience to listen to podcasts.” Eli frowned. “Do they earn enough money to hire employees?”
She pressed her lips together briefly to keep from snapping at him. Then she pasted on a smile. “Mine does, and Amy is one reason my podcast has been so successful.”
She didn’t tell him that with over ten thousand downloads a month and several sponsors, she could hire more than a producer if she needed to.
Scott crossed his arms. “Tori’s a great interviewer and investigator. Pretty sure she could hire a whole crew if she wanted to, and she’s quite famous in true crime podcast circles—Tori is the one who broke the Prescott case.”
Wow. She had not seen that coming. Scott had just scored brownie points, not that he’d been trying, she was sure. He didn’t strike her as the type.
Eli snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute . . . I heard my dad talking about some podcaster getting the man who killed Uncle Walter out of jail. Was that you?”
She tipped her head in acknowledgment while Scott took out his phone and a minute later held it up. The screen showed a photo of Huey Prescott walking out of prison with a caption under it: Wrongfully convicted man walks free due to persistence of podcaster Victoria Mitchell.
Warmth washed over Tori. To have been a part of Huey Prescott gaining his freedom made all the long hours and low downloads early on worth it.
Eli looked at the photo and then turned to her. “Well, being some kind of investigator doesn’t surprise me. You always were nosy . . .”
“I was not!” She narrowed her eyes. “Inquisitive, maybe.”
He laughed. “Just another word for nosy.”
She laughed with him. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I didn’t mean to tease, but you make it easy,” Eli said. “Do people call in to your show?”
“I only offered that feature once—last Saturday. Not sure I’ll do it again.”
Eli cocked his head. “Why not?”
“Sometimes you get weird calls.”
“Are you talking about the person who told you to watch your back?”
She turned to Scott. “You listened to last week’s podcast?”
He nodded. “I thought you handled the call and the ones after it very well.”
“So you thought it was weird too?” Tori asked.
He nodded. “I wonder why he was upset about Huey Prescott being released?”
“I don’t know.” She stared down at her clasped hands.
“Maybe he thinks Prescott is guilty and you got him off,” Eli said. “Did you recognize the man’s voice?”
“No. The caller gave the name John Smith, which is suspect, and now I’m not even sure it was a man.” Tori looked at Scott. “You heard it, what do you think?”
He thought a minute. “The voice didn’t have what I call style—it was flat. Could’ve been either one.”
In her mind she’d made the shift to the caller being a man when in reality she had no way of knowing. Had the caller set the fire? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. And was the caller the one who’d shot at them this afternoon? She definitely thought of that assailant as a man.
If only she’d gotten a better glimpse of the shooter, but when she tried to remember the exact details, all she saw was the barrel of the rifle.