“We’re square then, me and your family?”
“Yes,” Irene said. “Paid in full.”
“Wish I could pay them all off that easily,” Connie muttered. She started to close the door. But at th ast second, she paused, peering through the crack at Irene. Her voice lowered.
“You be careful, you hear? There’s folks who don’t want you asking around about Pamela.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to be more specific?” Irene said.
“I always liked you, Irene, and I was real sorry to hear about that post-trauma problem everyone says you’ve got. Also, I’m truly grateful for what your pa did for my boy Wayne’s been working steady all these years. Got married a while back and has himself a nice little family”
“I’m glad, Connie.”
“Like I said, I’m grateful. But I’d take it as a real favor if you didn’t come back here again anytime soon.”
The door closed with a depressing finality.
Irene walked beside Luke back to the S UV Neither spoke until they were inside the vehicle.
Irene pulled her notebook out of her shoulder bag. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.
Pamela ordered in enough food for a week and didn’t request any hard liquor, but she supposedly OD’s on martinis and pills.”
Luke put the SUV in gear and drove off down the narrow road that led away from Connie Watson’ mall house.
“The quantity of food suggests that she wasn’t thinking of killing herself” he agreed.
“But it doesn’ ean that she didn’t OD by accident.”
“I know.” Irene tapped the tip of the pen against the notebook. “It’s the liquor that bothers me the most. It’s true, she might have brought it with her this time, but if it was her habit to have Connie stock it along with the other supplies, why alter a long-standing pattern?”
“Good question,” Luke admitted. “I’ve been thinking about the man, though.”
“What man?”
“Connie said that when it came to Pamela, there was always a man in the picture.”
“But not this time,” Irene said slowly.
“At least, not one that Connie knew about.”
Irene contemplated that angle. “In the old days, Pamela viewed men as accessories.
She always ha ne or two conveniently on hand to wear whenever she wanted to go out and party.
If Connie was right about nothing having changed in that regard, it’s a good bet that at the time of her death Pamela had a man available on short notice somewhere.”
“If we can find him, he might know what was on her mind during those last few days of her life.”
She smiled. “I like the way you think, Danner.”
“Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be admired for my brain.” He glanced at her.
“What did your father do for Connie Watson’s son?”
Irene watched the sunlight and shadows dance on the lake. “Wayne Watson got into some trouble with the law the year after he graduated from high school. Ended up doing time. When he got out nobody around the lake wanted to give him a job. Dad convinced a contractor over in Kirbyville to take him on. Sounds like it worked out well.”
Nineteen
From the first time he’d brought the SUV to Carpenter’s Garage for a routine oil change and lube job, Luke had admired the place. He knew there were some people who liked walking through art museums and galleries. He took satisfaction from an efficient, functional, well-organized working facility like the garage. Phil Carpenter understood the importance of cleanliness, order and precision.
He paused just inside the entrance and allowed himself a moment to properly appreciate the gleaming, well-lit space. A person could have eaten off the concrete floor, he thought. Every tool and every piec f machinery that was not in use was stowed in its proper place. Stainless steel shone as bright as silver. The two men working beneath an elevated pickup wore clean uniforms emblazoned with the establishment’s logo. Luke knew from personal experience that the men’s room was equally clean and shiny. There were always plenty of soap and paper towels available.
He started toward the office at the far end of the garage.
A thin, gaunt, hollow-eyed man wielding a mop nodded once as he went past.
Luke returned the greeting.
“How’s it going, Tucker?”
“Goin’ fine, Mr. Danner.”
Tucker Mills’s haggard, burned-out expression made it impossible to judge his age.
He could have been anywhere between thirty and sixty. His long, lanky hair was sparse and thin and going gray. He operated somewhere at or near the bottom of the social pecking order in Dunsley surviving on his odd jobs and judicious recon trips to the town dump. Luke had found him to be invaluable when it came to dealing with the myriad maintenance and gardening issues that afflicted the lodge.
Tucker concentrated on pushing the mop head beneath a workbench. He did not encourage familiarit r conversation. It was understood that if you wanted to employ him, you made your needs known in polite terms using short sentences and then you left him alone until it was time to pay for the work. Tucker did not accept checks or credit cards.
As far as Luke could tell, Mills had no formal relationship of any kind with a bank or the IRS. He dealt only in cash or goods-in-trade.
Luke kept moving until he reached the office. Phil Carpenter was at his desk, paging methodically through a massive parts catalog. His shaved head blazed as bright as the sun in the glow of the fluorescent lamps.
Phil was built like a brick, but he moved with surprising speed and agility for a man with one prosthetic limb. Luke knew that beneath the long sleeve of Phil’s pristine garage uniform there was a globe-and-anchor emblem tattooed on one arm. The missing left leg was the legacy of a land mine explosion. Another war, not my own, Luke thought. But as Connie Watson had observed so insightfully earlier in the day, some things never change.
“Danner.” Phil closed the catalog and leaned back in his chair, looking both pleased and curious. He motioned to a chair. “Have a seat. Gotta say, I’m surprised to see you. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been right busy lately.”
“Things have definitely not been dull.” Luke sat down. “How goes the garage business?”
“Not bad. How about the lodging business?”
“Like I told Irene this morning, be a lot more enjoyable if I didn’t have to actually deal with the customers.”