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“Hello, my favourite people,” Andrew greeted them. The clean-shaven face didn’t betray his profession but the tweed jacket and wool trousers did. His thick, stocky build and chiselled chin emanated a power of position, but his cheery demeanour softened the harshness to one of trust.
“Hello, my beloved brother,” Katherine said.
They ordered fish and chips and drinks and settled into the plump cushions.
“This is awesome,” Katherine said as she delved into the salted fries.
Good food, good mood. Gibson wanted to hang onto this time, knowing her need to feel normal.
Andrew squirmed in his seat. He had something to say but didn’t know how to. A tiny bead of perspiration rolled down the side of his face.
“Anybody for dessert?” His courage had deserted him.
Everyone refused. The conversation shifted to local events with Heather’s art show topping the list. Gibson scanned the room after ordering a coffee. Partly obscured behind a screen, he spotted his partner. Scottie and her companion were snuggled close, gazing into each other’s eyes.
“We have lovebirds,” Gibson said as he pointed toward the corner cubicle. “Are they trying to hide from us? Be right back.”
Scottie was dressed in a green and black plaid flannel blouse and jeans. Her dainty girlfriend had on a royal blue turtleneck sweater with grey wool slacks. A delicate gold locket hung from a slim chain, highlighting her elfin features. Sherry shrieked with delight when he sat next to her. She tipped forward and pecked his cheek.
Andrew thought this was his opportunity. He dreaded divulging his secrets to Gibson. Did he have the heart to encumber his sister with his problem? Would Katherine empathize with him or turn aside? Too late. Gibson strolled back.
Chapter 20
Not a speck of blue sky was visible through the cloud cover. A mass of whiteness hung low, covering the mountain range across the strait, leaving just snow-dusted tops peeking out. Wispy clouds swept down to the chilly ocean water, hovering feet above the continuous turbulent motion—the tide was pushing upstream. The dullness of the atmosphere made the morning seem like twilight, matching Gibson’s sullen mood as he stared out the window.
“Hey,” Scottie greeted him as she wandered into the office. “You’re in early today.”
Gibson turned around with a scowl planted solidly in place.
“Sure is depressing,” he said and flung his hands up. “This time of year.”
Scottie stayed and waited for him to speak further.
“At least it’s not raining or snowing. Let’s find Tim.” His quirky smile made an appearance. “That will make me feel better.”
“You bet.”
She drove them through rush hour traffic with a proficiency that was impressive, showing up at the maintenance sheds in record time. She pulled to the curb with a jerk. They jumped out of the vehicle just as David rounded the corner of the building.
David spotted them and spun around instantaneously, not skipping a beat. Gibson caught the motion at the edge of his vision.
“Hey, David. Stop. Can we talk?”
He halted mid-stride, turned and walked back.
“Yeah, what’s up?” His body was rigid, lips forming a slash across his face. His eyes were hooded as if he was hiding from something.
“You know more about Robbie than you’re letting on.” Gibson went with his instincts.
“What do you mean?” David closed his hands by his side, creating tight fists.
“That he was gay.”
“No. But I can tell you that Robbie and Nick had a quarrel a few weeks ago.” He furrowed his eyebrows and made his decision. “It could have been a lover’s squabble.”
“What made you think that?”
“It just looked chummy. Ask Nick. I got to go.” He let out the deepest of sighs.
“Thanks.” Gibson shifted his eyes to Scottie again.
David scurried out of the courtyard with the detectives looking after him.
“What was that?”
“Who knows? Maybe something. Maybe nothing at all,” Gibson mumbled under his breath.
They took an about turn and walked to the garage in silence. The place seemed deserted so they stomped up the stairs to check it out. Jason’s door was closed and the glass transom above it showed no light. They swung left into the lunchroom. Tim was at the table sipping a coffee and texting. He glimpsed slyly from the corner of his eye and grumbled.
“You guys again.” Tim looked every bit the bully with his menacing look. His direct penetrating blue eyes were unnerving.
Scottie remained static with her arms crossed over her chest, an intimidating smirk curling her lips. Gibson strolled to the centre of the room and halted, slamming his notebook on the counter. He stood hands on his hips, his large presence hovering over Tim.
“What do you want?” Tim shoved his chair back, making it screech on the linoleum floor.
“We want some answers.”
“What?” Tim extended his legs and clasped both hands behind his neck.
“That’s right. What are your prints doing on the bat?” Gibson asked sharply as he settled himself on a wobbly bench opposite him. He then continued, “The bat you know nothing about. Never seen it before.” He dragged out the final phrase.
“I knew it. You’re trying to fix this on me.” He jumped to his feet.
Gibson glanced over to Scottie blocking any escape. But as swiftly as Tim had surged up, he plunged back into his chair.
“Look, you guys. I was just goofing around in the parking lot. Punching rocks into the hedge.” The bluster had taken a back seat.
“Why would you do that?”
“Just for fun.”
Gibson smelt a whiff of fear radiate from the bully.
“Look. Robbie left it here. That’s all. I didn’t hit him.” He quit chatting and stared at the floor. “This is absurd.”
Tension drove most people to reveal, so Gibson sat still and waited it out. Scottie was scribbling in her notebook, the scratching noise of pen on paper audible in the quietness. Tim fidgeted, shifting his weight and shuffling his feet under his chair. He coughed, licked his parched lips and said more.
“I figure it’s his brother’s bat. Or I suppose Jeff’s his half-brother.” Tim exhaled anew, sweat popping up on his forehead. He swiped it off with his shirt sleeve. Anxiety kept him babbling. “I saw Jeff at the shop last week talking to Robbie. He was twirling a bat, and later he tossed it at the back of the shop. So I figured it was okay to use it. Robbie was at a conference. No big deal.”
Gibson thought he had just said the same thing another way.
“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on Monday morning?” Gibson asked, shifting gears.
“Not really.” He screwed up his eyes. “The wife is in the hospital. So I’m on my own. I left at six thirty. Came straight here.”
Gibson didn’t remark on that. They had already found out where his spouse was, and she wouldn’t be his alibi. It was ironic that a nice girl like her would marry a bully.
Just as he was moving to pack it in, Gibson received a call from forensics.
“Hey, Jocko. What have you got for me?” His expression changed from interested to concern. “Okay. Thanks.” After he hung up, he turned to Tim. “Where is Nick working?”
“At the rink. Are we done here?”
“Sure.”
Gibson wanted to flip the creep a finger, but he held back. They raced down the stairs and out the door.
“What did Jocko find?” She took a fleeting look over to him as they hurried across the yard.
“A print on the condom box.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Yup. And the condom in question is the same brand as the box.”
“Guess somebody got careless.” Scottie raised her eyebrows. “Wiped the prints from the foil on the condom and forgot about the box. Good for us.” She waited for Gibson to say more.
“They’re Nick’s prints.”
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