“Moore had an alibi,” I cut in, remembering that the family hired a PI and went digging themselves. They didn’t feel like the police were taking their claims seriously.
“Right, but the family was insistent that the eleven witnesses that provided the proof of alibi were all in cahoots together—Theresa Garet’s words.”
So far, I already knew all that he’s shared. The family is friends with Mayor Dunbar, so he called in a favor and the file ended up on my desk for about five days until the family withdrew their request and claimed they found a note that led them to believe he took his own life.
“If it was Moore, justice was served,” he mused. “He died in a motorcycle accident eighteen months ago, and the only thing that learning he was involved would provide at this point is closure.” He plays with his straw, looking at something over my shoulder. “I can understand the family needing that. As Billy’s friend, I’d like some.” He bites on his lower lip. “It wasn’t Jackson though, and no amount of pointing fingers and wishing will change that. He’s on camera leaving the bar at close, well after the accident was determined to have happened.”
Again, all things I already know. I decide to bring up the one thing that was likely kept from Eric—the part about his apparent suicide. The family did their best to keep that hush-hush by sealing the records.
I lean in so I’m not overheard. “You know why they called off the investigation?”
His head moves to indicate he doesn’t.
“They say they found a note.”
His eyes narrow. “A note?”
I nod once. There’s no need to elaborate. He knows what a note represents.
Eric’s face contorts, cheeks blazing red. “Bullshit.” He thumps his fist onto the table, drawing the attention of the few people in Milly’s.
“Keep it down,” I snap.
“That’s complete shit, Nick,” Eric hisses. “He wouldn’t. Iknew him, and the last thing he’d ever have done was take his own life. I can assure you of that.” He blows out a harsh breath. “He had plans. Big ones. Told me so a few days before the accident.”
Something had always felt off about that claim to me. A guy like Billy Garet has the world at his fingertips. Wealthy family, graduated with honors from Knox Harbor High, headed to Boston for college, good-looking according to the local ladies... he had options.
“I believe you,” I offer, hoping to quell Eric’s anger. “The question is, If it wasn’t suicide, what did happen?”
We stare at each other for several minutes, each contemplating what could’ve gone wrong on his drive home. In the end, I look away, because it doesn’t matter. My gut is telling me something is off with the Garet accident, but it’s not my circus, and his death has nothing to do with Alyssa’s break-in.
“Anyway,” I say, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. “The storm likely played games with her head.” I lift one shoulder, pushing my plate away with my opposite hand. “Either way, it’s not my department, so I have an excuse to keep me out of trouble with her.”
“Which is all you care about, right? Because you’re neighbors...”
Something about the way he says this, coupled with the irritating grin spreading across his tanned face, annoys me. He isn’t going to let this idea of me going after Alyssa drop.
“Exactly. We’re neighbors.”
He full-on smiles, pointing a finger at me. “You’ll eventually cave. I know that look.”
My head jerks back, and the urge to punch him in his nose rears its ugly head. “Screw you.”
He chuckles. “Whatever, man. Your secret is safe with me.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “You’ve got itallwrong. It’s purely her safety I’m interested in. Nothing else.”
Eric’s staring down at his phone, brows furrowed. “We have to head to Silverton. A car was found covered by brush in a wooded area. Car is registered to a Knox Harbor local.”
“Why would we get called out to an abandoned car? Is there a body?”
“No clue. Guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
Death... Reversed
IT’S A BEAUTIFULNew England fall day, and I’m about to ruin it by chasing ghosts. The sun shines brightly overhead, helping to make what I’m about to do a little less chilling.
For the moment.
