chapter Forty-two
Casey stormed out of the office and headed toward the police station to grab Randy Pinkerton by the throat. Eric jumped in front of her.
“Get out of my way, Eric.”
“No.”
She tried to dodge past him, but he stepped in her way again. “Casey, look. He works for the police department. Charging in there and accusing him of murder isn’t going to fly. We have to think about this.”
“He’s right, you know.” Death stood behind Eric, also in-between Casey and the police station.
Surprised, Casey looked over Eric’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
Eric glanced backward, and frowned. “Casey. Are you all right? You know I’ve been with you all along.”
“You’re obviously back to old form,” Death said, sighing. “Ready to die.”
“I’m not ready to die.”
“That’s good,” Eric said uncertainly. “I guess that means we’ll take this slowly?”
“Listen to the man,” Death said. “Running in there like an unprepared avenging angel isn’t going to solve anything. You’ve got to be smooth. Like me. In and out, nobody knows you were even there. Well, except that someone’s dead.”
She looked at the sky, then back down. “What do you suggest?”
“Ask around,” Eric said. “Find out if he’s been gone lately. See if we can locate the other two.”
“And you might want to do it before the Chamber of Commerce guy decides it’s his civic and neighborly duty to warn them.” Death indicated the window of the Chamber office, where Thornville stood watching them.
Casey glared at him. Eric plastered a smile on his face and waved, pulling Casey across the street to a coffee shop.
“I’m not thirsty,” Casey said.
Eric kept dragging her. “It’s not about the coffee.”
“Although it should be,” Death said. “From my research this place is supposed to have the best lattes around.” Death held up a Nook with the banner “Best Coffee in Texas!” across the bottom of a screen that showed the shop.
Casey stopped resisting. “Fine.”
Eric left her in a window booth and took out his phone. “Why don’t you give Chief Kay a call, tell her we identified the men in the photo.” He left her and went up to order a couple drinks, while Death fashioned a steaming mug of something that said, “Nothing like a little Elixir of Life to start the day!” with a yellow smiley face. Death took a sip and considered it. “A bit bitter, but some sweetness to it. Perhaps a taste of honey. Or is it ambrosia?”
Chief Kay wasn’t in, so Casey left the information with the officer who answered, which unfortunately was the same one she “assaulted” in the street. It wasn’t the most pleasant conversation.
Eric stayed at the counter longer than she thought necessary, talking to the pretty young barista. He came back with a blueberry muffin large enough to feed all of southeast Texas. Eric cut it in pieces and took a bite. “Mmm, good.” He spewed crumbs, and grinned. “Whoops.”
“Ricky is in jail,” Casey said.
Eric took another bite. “I know. That’s why I was chatting up the girl at the counter.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Eric grinned some more. “Jealous?”
Casey looked out the window.
“You’re pathetic,” Death said, and took another sip.
Casey gripped her cup. “So what did the girl say?”
“She knows Randy and the other guy, Les Danvers. They come in here on most Wednesdays. Apparently, Les works over at Galveston Bay, loading and unloading ships, and that’s his day off. When he comes to town they try to be the civilized business types and hang out at the coffee shop, but they don’t quite pull it off.”
“According to the girl.”
“Britney.”
“Britney. Of course that’s her name.”
Death laughed, and raised a toast. “To Britney.”
“She says Randy tries to keep it cool, but Les usually gets too loud, or complains about the coffee, or offends another customer somehow. Also, it seems Randy has been trying to get her to go out with him since she started working here two years ago.”
“Not exactly a surprise,” Death said.
Casey took a sip of her coffee, but refused to admit she enjoyed it. “What about the third guy? Marcus Flatt?”
“She’s not sure. She says there was another guy who stopped by once, but he didn’t get a drink, and he didn’t stay long. She was glad, because just looking at him gave her the creeps. She said his eyes were like a shark’s.”
“Bingo,” Death said loudly, and raised another toast, making Casey wonder exactly what was in the mug.
“I don’t suppose she has any idea if Randy and his buddies have been out of town?”
“Actually, she said he and Les missed their usual Wednesday last week. She hadn’t really thought anything of it, except that she hasn’t had to refuse Randy’s advances for a nice, two-week stretch.”
“The timing would fit.”
“Sure would.”
Casey took another drink and gazed out the window. Thornville no longer stood watching. She hoped he had just gone back to work, and wasn’t tattling to the police. “When was it she saw Flatt?”
“A while ago, I guess. She didn’t really remember.”
“So now what? Can we go talk to Randy?”
“Or is it time to call the cops?”
“Um, Eric?” Britney was calling him.
“She knows your name?” Casey said.
Britney was still talking. “The guy you were asking about? Randy?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s right over there.” She pointed toward the street.
Randy Pinkerton was driving away in a red Camaro.
Casey stood up so fast her coffee spilled. Eric caught the cup, so his hands weren’t free to stop Casey this time.
“Come on, Eric!”
She ran out to their car and waited impatiently for Eric to catch up.
Thornville peeked out at her from his window. Obviously, he had called and warned Randy Pinkerton they were coming.
“Do you want this?” Eric ran up holding out her half-full drink.
“Eric, get in the car!”
He tossed the drink in a trash can and beeped open the car. They jumped in and sped after Randy Pinkerton.
Eric squeezed past a yellow light. “Where do you think he’s going? Home? To warn Les Danver?”
“Which direction are we headed?” Casey grabbed Eric’s iPad and pulled up the GPS. “We’re not going toward Galveston Bay, where Les works.”
“Where’s Pinkerton’s house? See if he comes up in the white pages.”
She struggled to figure out how to find that information, but eventually came up with an address. “Nope. Not going toward that, either.”
“Brothers? Girlfriend?”
“How do I know who his girlfriend is?” But she knew his brothers’ names. “I guess it could be the older brother. Zeke. He lives sort of out this way. Do we think he’s involved?”
Eric groaned as a bakery truck pulled out in front of him, blocking their view of the escaping Pinkerton brother. He rode the truck’s bumper, waiting for a break in the solid yellow line.
Casey flipped through several hits on the iPad. “From what I’m seeing here Zeke is Mr. Upright Citizen. So is Dan. Can’t really find much about Randy. The most recent photos that involve the business just show the older two brothers, but that fits with what Thornville said.”
“Dang it,” Eric said, “where did he go? Do you see him?”
Casey looked up. “We lost him?”
“No. There he is.” They could see the little red car darting around a corner. The bakery truck lumbered straight, so Eric was free to turn after Pinkerton.
“He’s turning again,” Casey said.
“I see him. Why does this look familiar? Did we drive past here before?” Eric realized he was too close, and slowed to put more distance between the cars. “He’s on his phone.”
“Talking to Thornville, maybe?”
“Who knows. Maybe he’s calling his brothers. Or Les Danver. Or even the other guy.”
The Other Guy. Marcus Flatt, the one who creeped out Britney just by stepping into the coffee shop, and who made Thornville shudder, and Elizabeth leave if she saw him coming. A man with shark’s eyes.
“I think I know where we’re going,” Casey announced suddenly.
“You do? Where?”
She held up the GPS and pointed out their route. “We did drive past here before. We’re going back to Harbor Houseboats.”