Last time…
“What else was there?” I ask. We pull up to the street below my office. He parks and kills the lights and we sit in the darkness.
“How much do you know of Eddie and Jimmy?” he asks me, turning in the half light. I can see a small sparkle in his eye. Not malicious, just…alive.
“I know less than I’d like. Those two…I can’t quite figure them out,” I admit.
He turns in the seat to face me directly. “Would it interest you to know that they came into town the Thursday night before Aries was murdered?” He asks.
I stare hard at him. “You’re yankin’ my leg, right? They didn’t get in until Saturday.”
“No way,” Avery says, emphasizing the “no” part. “I saw them myself. Guess what else?” I shake my head, questioning. Avery smiles. “Eddie has a gun collection,” he says.
CHAPTER 17 – BINDINGS
“Are you saying they are involved?” I ask him.
“Not involved. Involved is a love affair. Involved is insurance fraud. No, they did it, and I think I know why.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself. How long have you known?” I ask him, and he stares straight ahead.
“Known what? That they were in town? Or that they did it?”
“Both. Indulge me,” I say. “But maybe we could take it upstairs? I need a drink and a towel.”
We pull ourselves out of the car, I more painfully than I was expecting-the ride over has stiffened my joints and bruises; it hurts to even breathe. I’m not looking forward to the second floor climb to my office, but up there I can lie down.
Avery hops over to my side and puts his arm around my shoulder, and together we half-stumble up the short landing stairs and I unlock the front door. I get inside and try to make the first step up on my own, but something’s not working right, like my legs are there but not doing nothing. “I might need some help up,” I say, and Avery nods. He and I climb up the stairs like this then slide down the dark hallway to my office door. He hits the buzzer, God knows why, and I glare at him as I fish my keys out and unlock the door.
Inside, I flip on the light and we head over to my couch, this old beat up leather-clad train stopper. I inch up on my elbows and look over at my washroom. Avery gets the hint and goes in. I take stock of my situation. Desk is five feet away, and so is the bottle. I’m struggling to even sit up when I hear water running and some splashes and then Avery comes out with a wet cloth.
“The hell are you doing?” He asks me. I motion toward my desk.
“Second drawer down. Should be a couple of glasses in there as well.”
Avery hands me the towel, and I take it from him, saying thanks, and settle back into the cracked cushions. “Now Eddie and Jimmy,” I say. He opens the drawer and pulls out my stash and two shot glasses. He looks around for a place to sit, and I tell him to take my desk chair. “Eddie and Jimmy,” he says. I say, “Tell me what you know.”
“Not much, I’m afraid,” he says.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I say.
He pours a long one and gets up to hand it to me. “Eddie’s a rotten kid. You can tell in his face.”
I say, “Yeah, I know. I’ve seen the way he looks at me. Still, it ain’t a crime to look mean, and it sure as hell ain’t a crime to own a gun collection.”
“I know,” he says, shaking his head. “What I mean is, when you think of Eddie, you don’t want to look in front of you.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that you better be looking behind you,” he says. I tip my head back and feel the burn following my throat all the way to the sweet bye and bye. He takes my glass and I motion for another. He pours it halfway.
“You still haven’t told me anything I don’t know. College boy’s a psychotic waiting to happen. So what’s his gun collection have to do with anything? And at least make it a single, for Chrissake.” He fills the rest of the glass up, sheepishly smiling as he sits on the corner of my desk, facing me. Guess the man doesn’t like the feel of leather.