I reach for the door with a sigh. “No. After what my dad said yesterday, I can’t. Right now, I’m going to go back to the cottage and try to make some rhyme or reason out of this.” I lift my phone. “I have an email with attachments from the Mill’s County Examiner. I messaged them about your brother when I arrived. Withany luck, there’ll be pictures.” I also had more than one email from my production company.
“They sent you information from Craig’s autopsy?” Keith asks.
“I use the production company’s email. You’d be surprised what we can access.” As I get out of the truck, I turn toward the front of the Walleye Tavern and then back to Keith. “You know, you fit a profile.”
“I do?”
“Someone acting out over the death of Craig, using violence as a coping mechanism.”
“Do you think it’s me?”
I shake my head. “No, like you said, the two of you weren’t close. There’s no reason for you to act out.” I grin. “Last night, Theo” —I tilt my head toward the bar— “made a comment about you not belonging here any longer.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, that was right before I walked to your table. I’m a bit fuzzy after that.”
“Well, clearly, if I were a thrill killer, you were too-easy prey.”
“Theo and others saw me leave with you. That can really screw up an alibi.”
“I wish I stayed longer at that party to see who Julie and Marty left with.”
I narrow my gaze. “Why were you there again?”
“It was a hunch that didn’t pan out.”
“And you left?”
He nods. “Detective at underage party with alcohol and illegal drugs only works if I’m undercover.”
“I wish you had been.”
“Me too, Jill.” He taps the steering wheel with the back of his wrist. “I’ll let you know what I learn at the sheriff’s department.”
“Thanks,” I say as I close the truck door before Keith drives away.
The parking lot is mostly empty. Of course, it isn’t even four o’clock on a weekday. Lunch is over, and the early-bird specials haven’t started. I’m not certain the Walleye Tavern has early-bird specials. From the sign down at the Sunshine Cafe, they do. Maybe that’s part of the compromise the two businesses have reached.
“Shit.” I notice a folded paper flapping from beneath my windshield wiper. “A ticket?”
Chapter
Thirty
“Seriously?” I say into the wind as I pull the paper from the wiper. Turning it over in my hand, I see that it’s not a parking ticket but a folded piece of white paper. On the front, written in handwriting, is a note that reads:Overnight parking is prohibited.
I look around to see if anyone is watching. Next, I unfold the sheet of white paper.
Jillian,
Parking is fine. Just want to make sure you’re all right.
Come inside for a minute.
Theo
A waveof relief flows through me, immediately followed by a bit of agitation. I stare over at the front door of the tavern. After last night, I don’t know if I should show my face inside, but in my hand, I have a written invitation.Also, the time of day is my friend. The drinking crowd, those who might have been there last night, shouldn’t arrive for at least a few more hours.
