Chapter 14 #2
He runs his dry hands through his thinning hair. His puffy face breaks into a sorry smile. “Guess how long it took me to de-shell these peanuts?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t care, Brian.”
“4.3 seconds,” he says, puffing up his chest. “That’s 1.2 seconds shy of my high school record. I’m back! I’m on track to tackle those damn walnuts again—”
“Have you met my new boyfriend?” I swat Elliot between the shoulder blades, causing him to pitch forward. “He has some questions for you.”
“I heard you were seeing someone,” he mutters. “Then again, what else is new?” Brian eyes Elliot up and down. “So you’re the new victim?”
Elliot mashes his lips together. “That I am,” he says with an air of defeat.
“Advice for you,” Brian offers Elliot a hand to shake, “don’t get too attached. She goes through men like she goes through candles.”
“Noted,” Elliot says, trying to pry his hand from Brian’s grasp. “That’s a firm grip you’ve got there.”
“Of course it is.” Brian tightens said grip. “Did you know I could crack four walnuts with one of these babies? That’s eight walnuts at a time.”
Gritting his teeth, Elliot rips his hand from Brian’s grip. “I heard it was the walnut that cracked you.”
Brian’s head shoots up. “Who told you that?” He surveys the empty bar.
“Holly,” says Elliot.
“Holly, eh?” Brian arches an eyebrow. “Still spreading lies about me after all these years? She’s still sore after I dumped her. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” He thumbs his nose at Elliot. “Know what I mean?”
“Oh come on!” I snap. “We went out for three weeks and you spent all that time cracking nuts in my direction.”
Brian snorts. “I de-shelled those nuts so you won’t have to!”
Another round of arguments with Brian and I’m in danger of ripping my hair out. “Let’s cut the crap. You know why we’re here. Someone took a shit in my house during my dinner party. It was you, wasn’t it?”
Brian leans back, appearing haughtily offended. He slaps a hand to his chest. “What kind of lowlife do you think I am?”
“A drunken lowlife who stood outside my window at three am whining about giving him a second chance. I had to get a restraining order.”
Brian frowns. “I don’t drink.”
“It doesn’t take much. You’re sauced after a wine cooler.” I nod to his beer. “He’s a lightweight.”
“I got a restraining order on her, too,” Brian tells Elliot.
“Because I got one on you!” Turning to Elliot, I plead my case. “Trust me, he doesn’t need a restraining order to keep me away from him. He got one out of spite. To top me. It’s that stupid competitive streak again.”
“Interesting.” Elliot slips out his notebook and flips to a new page. “Fortunately, I did my research. Holly, your restraining order against Brian is public record, but evidence of Brian’s charges against you…” He turns to Brian. “Did you really file one?”
Brian nods adamantly. “Of course. On the 5th of May 2014.”
Elliot eyes me. “Holly?”
I lower my eyes. “I had it expunged from my record.”
Elliot snorts, amused. “Of course you did. Were you always planning to run for mayor?”
I sniff. “I like to keep my options open.”
“And so, you made sure your record was squeaky clean…”
“See? What did I tell you?” Brian points his dry index finger at me. “You can’t trust her. She runs a rigged game, if you know what I mean.”
I don’t think even Brian knows what Brian means.
“Where were you after dinner on the night of November 24th?” Elliot asks point blank.
“Well,” Brian takes a sip of his IPA, “we had dinner. It wasn’t very good. Whoever cooked that turkey overcooked it. It was drier than jerky.”
I step forward. “I made the turkey.”
“Better luck next time,” Brian says in that offhanded way that always got under my skin. “Maybe take a cooking class?”
Sensing a scene about to erupt, Elliot diplomatically steps between us. “Just answer the question.”
“As I barely ate that godawful dinner,” Brian began, “I slipped out for a burger. And Jen got the shits, probably on account of that slimy sweet potato casserole… So I made a pit stop at the pharmacy for some diarrhea medicine for her. I dropped that off for her later—”
“You came back to Holly’s house?” Elliot scribbles in his notebook. “What time?”
“Around 9 pm,” Brian says, “for a second. The party was not my scene, what with Holly giving me longing looks all night.”
“Longing looks?!” I explode. “I was keeping an eye on grandma’s silverware! Ask him where my fork went! Just ask him.”
“Just let him finish,” Elliot says, using his body to wall me off from attacking Brian. He nods to the cretin. “Continue.”
“I was feeling uncomfortable,” Brian says, “between Holly undressing me with her eyes and her mom nagging me about getting a new job. I split right after dinner. Came back to the bar and watched the game from this spot.” He points to his favorite stool.
“Let me retrace your steps,” Elliot reads from his notes. “Did you come back in through the front door to give Jen her meds?”
“The side door,” Brian says.
“Was the side door open?”
“No. Paige let me in since Jen was stuck on the can and bombarding me with texts all night.” Brian elbows Elliot. “Already an ole ball n’ chain, am I right?”
“So Paige delivered Jen’s diarrhea medicine?”
“Yup,” Brian says. “I thought about sneaking around back and tossing her meds in through the bathroom window, but then I’ll have to loop around through the backyard and it was already full of people.”
“Full of people?” I ask in surprise.
“That mullet man from the hardware store, the mayor… some lady in stripper shoes.”
Elliot turns to me in question.
“My Aunt Cherry,” I explain.
“Aunt Cherry?” Brian asks, perplexed. “I don’t think I’ve met her.”
I narrow my eyes, amazed by Brian’s denseness and ashamed at myself that I wasted three weeks of my life with this dummy. “You were seated right next to her!”
Brian frowns like he’s trying to find the switch to a very dim lightbulb. “Was she the lady with the swollen duck lips?”
In Aunt Cherry’s defense, her lip filler hadn’t had a chance to settle yet. Ignoring Brian, I turn to Elliot. “Aunt Cherry loves those five inch crystal slides.”
“So the lady in stripper shoes was Aunt Cherry,” Elliot says. “To reiterate, we have Aunt Cherry, Dennis, and Ivan Thornberry gathered in the backyard. Anyone else?”
“That’s all.” Brian shakes his head to rid himself of an unpleasant memory.
“Too crowded for my liking. All these people jabbering away about nothing. I’m a lone wolf.
I need silence and tranquility to work on my comeback.
” To demonstrate, he picks up a peanut and pinches it between his thumb and forefinger. CRUNCH.
Brian winks at me. “There’s more where that came from, baby.”
Three weeks! I wasted three weeks on this moron!
“It’s good to have dreams,” Elliot says absently. “So, you attest to your alibi? If I pulled up security cams around town, I’ll find you where you say you were?”
“Scout’s honor.” Brian crosses his heart. “You can even look at the geo-location on my phone…” He unlocks his PIN code and hands over the phone like some kind of reward.
Glaring at Brian, Elliot takes the phone and sets about disproving Brian’s alibi. Finally, he hands back the phone with an air of disappointment. “Your story checks out… for now.”
I whip my head around. “What?”
“His geo locations check out.”
“Check again!” I can’t believe my ears. Out of everyone, Brian was my number one suspect.
He had just cause (the breakup, my restraining order) and he just seemed like the type who would vandalize someone’s home.
As a bonus, if I caught him, Jen will have to break up with him now.
She might be difficult at every turn, but she couldn’t possibly marry someone who defecated on her sister’s floor.
“Is that all you want with me?” Brian settles back on his stool and picks up another peanut. “I have work to do.”
“That’s all for now,” Elliot says, then adds, “Don’t try to leave town.”
Brian gives a dejected sigh. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“You have to feel sorry for him,” Elliot says as he’s ushering me out the door. “His hands were criminally dry.”
“I still think he’s lying,” I mutter, shielding my eyes against the afternoon sun.
“I don’t think he’s entirely honest with us either,” Elliot says. “We’ll circle back to him later.”
“Wait!” A voice beckons us back.
It’s Brian, his puffy face red with exertion from his run. “Something just clicked a minute ago. The people in the backyard.”
I nod. “Dennis.”
“The mullet man,” he says.
“The mayor. Aunt Cherry.”
“Yes and no.”
“What do you mean?” Elliot takes out his notebook.
“Mayor Thornberry was there,” Brian says. “But that chick wasn’t Aunt Cherry.”
I frown. “But you said ‘chick with stripper shoes.’ Only Aunt Cherry…”
Brian takes a deep breath. “Jen owns some stripper shoes.”
I roll my eyes. “I know that…”
“But don’t you see,” Brian says, flailing his arms around, “she brought them to the party. Along with a change of clothes. In her duffle bag.” Confronted by our confused expressions, he lays in, “We figured your party was going to be so lame that we made plans to head to the Cider Club right after. Jen brought a change of clothes, which included some five inch crystal slides, just like your aunt’s shoes. ”
I suck in my breath. “Aunt Cherry gave Jen those slides for her birthday.”
“Brian,” Elliot circles my ex like a hawk, “did Jen bring the duffle bag with her to the bathroom? Or did you pass her the duffel bag through the window?”
Brian scratches his temple. “I can’t recall.”
“You can’t recall passing her the duffle bag?” Elliot narrows his eyes. “Seems like something anyone can easily remember.”
Brian swallows. “The first one.”
“The first one what?”
“She took the bag in with her.” Brian clears his throat and nods. “Yes. I’m remembering clearly now. Jen definitely had the bag with her.”
“Suppose we were to strap you to a lie detector,” I snap. “Do you think you’ll pass?”
“Of course,” Brian says.