Dylan shrugged. “Happy to be of assistance. And if it’s okay with you two, while you are sleuthing about, I’m gonna make a quick run to Lowe’s Hardware downtown and see if they can cut me a piece of glass for the front door. It’s too damn cold for the patch job they’ve done. I just need to get a tape measure. I know where Dad keeps the tools.”
Gunner tossed him the keys. “You’re the boss man when it comes to all that,” then pulled out a couple of twenties and handed it to Dylan.
Asher handed him a couple more.
“Thanks,” Dylan said. “I shouldn’t be long. And didn’t Sheriff Reddick tell us the forensic team was leaving Dad’s keys with Pearl when they left?”
“Yes, he did,” Asher said. “How about we meet there for lunch? You text us when you’re at the Rose and we’ll meet you there. I know where Dad keeps the extra set of keys to the truck. You do your thing. We’ll be in the house.”
Dylan nodded and went to get a tape measure. As soon as he had the measurements needed to replace the window glass, he locked the door and headed uptown.
“I need to send Dad’s statement to the sheriff’s office,”Ash said.
“I’ll make some coffee,” Gunner offered, and they quickly retreated to the warmth and comfort of the family home.
Ash unpacked and hung up his clothes, then got his laptop and went into the living room to work where it was warm.
* * *
The first thing Everett Brandt did when he woke up was to check his account. He grunted in satisfaction when he saw the disability deposit had come through in his Direct Expense account, which meant his allotment card was loaded with money again. He stomped his feet into his boots and went to the bathroom. It was too cold to shower, and he didn’t have any clean clothes because they’d didn’t have laundry soap, so what did it matter?
He could tell by the scent of fresh brewing coffee that Freddie was up. Likely downing all the toast, but whatever. Today was for groceries and washing clothes, and hoping old man Kingston quit breathing.
Freddie looked up and smiled as Everett entered the kitchen.
“I saved you toast!” he said.
Surprised, Everett smiled. “Thanks, Freddie. We’re going grocery shopping this morning.”
“Can we get Twinkies?” Freddie asked.
“We can get Twinkies,” Everett said, grabbed a piece of cold toast, poured himself a cup of coffee, then dunked the toast in the bitter brew and chomped.
* * *
Sheriff Matt Reddick was in a mood. Forensics justinformed him that so far, they had pulled DNA from over twenty different people off of Jacob Kingston’s clothes, and they still weren’t finished—the result of having a victim be the owner, wait staff, bartender, and janitor of a very busy bar who’d been rolled all over said floor by his assailants before they shot him. It wasn’t going to point the finger of guilt at anyone, due to the constant contact of customers coming and going. And from a period longer than just that one day. Trying to identify the DNA on his clothes from the floors alone was about to cause a walk-out in forensics. It was turning into a no-go as far as good clues went.
And then Reddick received the email from Asher Kingston, and the first thing that stood out to him was the request to not publicize the fact that Jacob had awakened and told them what he knew. He understood why, and hated that this was happening. But knowing what Jacob had seen…what he remembered…was more than they’d had five minutes ago.
So…now Reddick knew that two men had approached Jacob a week before the shooting to ask if the bar was for sale. Two men had been involved in the shooting. One of the attackers told him he should have sold the bar, and then they shot him. What didn’t make sense was why nothing was taken, and why they ran after they’d done the deed. That sounded more like a revenge shooting than a botched robbery. But why? And if it did have anything to do with the old, armored car robbery, why now?
He sent a reply saying Message Received.
A few minutes later, the sheriff’s office received a 911 call from a teenager, saying his dad was beating his mother for gambling away their rent money. At that point, the Kingston shooting was put on the back burner as the sheriff and two deputies headed to a small cattle ranch on the outskirts of Silverton to save a man from himself, and a womanfrom dying for her sins.
* * *
Dylan had just loaded up a piece of tempered glass for the door into the back of the SUV. The glass had been cut to size and safely taped between two pieces of cardboard. He also had putty, some caulking points, and a new putty knife in the bag he was carrying, and some stain remover for hardwood floors.
As he was getting into the car, he saw Nora walking out of the ER with a bandage on her hand. She looked like she’d been crying, and he immediately sent Asher a text.
Headed to the Yellow Rose. Just saw Nora coming out of the ER with a bandage on her hand. Go get her and bring her to eat lunch with us. She walks like she’s carrying the weight of the world, and she’s been crying. But drop Gunner off first. No woman wants an audience when she’s crying.
* * *
When Ash’s phone signaled a text, he shut down his laptop to read it, guessing it was probably Dylan. And then he opened it, read it, and bolted to his feet.
“Gunner! Time to go.” He grabbed his coat and the keys to Jacob’s truck and headed for the back door with Gunner behind him.
