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Before any of them could answer, the light snapped on. It was a battery-powered lantern rather than a handheld flashlight. It rested on a small circular wrought-iron plant stand beside an ashtray which was overflowing with cigarette butts. Archie sat straight-backed in a wingback chair whose upholstery had seen better days. His jeans were faded and torn, a hairy knee poking from one worn pantleg. His black T-shirt read:You Sound Better With Your Mouth Shut. The aforementioned pellet gun lay untouched across his lap. He held his hands aloft so they could see them, and Josie felt a small trickle of relief.
Mettner said, “May I ask what you’re trying to shoot with that?”
Archie smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Son, you may ask whatever you like.”
Several seconds ticked by. It became evident that he had no intention of answering the question. Josie said, “Any chance you’re shooting feral cats?”
Archie ignored this question as well. “You all mind if I put my hands down now?”
Mettner said, “If you wouldn’t mind just putting the pellet gun on the ground, we’d appreciate it.”
The chair groaned beneath him as Archie slowly placed the pellet gun on the floor of the porch and nudged it aside with his boot.
Josie said, “I know someone at Precious Paws Rescue who would be happy to come collect any feral cats on your property and take them off your hands.”
Archie leaned forward, capturing her gaze. His lips twitched in what was almost a smile. “I’m not too keen on people running around my property unsupervised, but thank you just the same.”
Josie didn’t push the issue. If she was right, and he was shooting pellets at feral cats, even on his own property, it was illegal. She could deal with the cat situation later, but right now, they needed to ask him how he knew Eve Bowers. The sooner the better. She said, “We won’t take up too much of your time. Do you know a woman named Eve Bowers?”
He lit another cigarette. “Nope. I sure don’t.”
Josie took out her phone and pulled up Eve’s driver’s license photo. She showed it to Archie Gamble. “You don’t know this woman?”
Without hesitation, he answered, “Nope.”
Mettner said, “Do you have any idea why your name would be among her personal effects?”
“I do not.”
The envelope had been addressed to Claudia. They hadn’t had a chance yet to verify the handwriting. “How about Claudia Collins?” asked Josie.
One of Gamble’s brows kinked. The cigarette between his lips bobbed a couple of times before he pinched it with two fingers and took it out of his mouth. “That sure sounds familiar.” He took two more puffs. “She on TV or somethin’?”
Josie said, “She hosts a television show on WYEP in the late mornings. Weekdays. With her husband, Beau Collins.”
He let out a slow chuckle. “Oh right. The one about relationships. What a bunch of horseshit. So what happened? That douchebag husband of hers get into some kind of trouble? Get some young lady involved?”
Mettner opened his mouth to speak, but Josie nudged him silent with a discreet elbow to the ribs. She said, “Why do you think he’s a douchebag?”
He took his time answering, which Josie realized now was just his way. Whether it was purposeful or not, it had the effect of making them hang on his every word. Her feet were getting cold. Archie said, “I know people, that’s why.”
“What do you know about Beau Collins?” asked Josie.
He winked at her. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you? I know he’s on TV on a stupid show about stupid things with a stupid wife who’s probably not worth the space she takes up.”
Josie felt the barb against Claudia as if they were old friends even though they’d only met once. She wondered if he’d call her stupid if he knew she had been murdered, and decided he probably would.
“You ever meet his wife?” asked Mettner.
“Nope.”
Josie said, “Why do you think he got into trouble?”
Another long drag on the cigarette, the orange circle flaring. “Seems like the type.”
Josie asked, “Have you ever met Beau Collins?”
“Not officially, no,” Archie replied. “Ran into him at the DMV once. He cut in the line in front of me. I told him about this thing: it’s called manners. He didn’t know about it. Didn’t want to talk much to me after that. Went to the back of the line.”
