Page 51 of In the Line of Ire

Garrettbit back a smile. "Imagine that. Glad you're okay but if you everwant to talk."

"You'rehigh on my list," I said. I stepped around the table, leaned downand hugged him. "That’s why you're one of my favoritebrothers."

"Afterall the favors I’ve done for you, I think I should be in the topslot but I'll take whatever I can get. I gotta say I'm happy thatthe murder and your case appear to be two separate things. How'sthe undercover thing going anyway?"

"So far,so dull."

"Keep itthat way," said Garrett. I turned as I reached the door, smiled andwaved.

~

ColinStrickland lived in an apartment above a garage. The main house waslovely with big windows and a well-tended yard but the woman whodirected me to the apartment was surly and seemed like she couldn'tget rid of me fast enough.

Theapartment was at the top of a set of open wooden steps that twistedonto a small landing. I knocked loudly and waited.

The manwho answered the door had at least four days’ worth of beardgrowth, red eyes and looked like he slept in his clothes regularly.He also badly needed a shower.

"Yo?" hesaid.

"Hello.I'm Lexi, I work at the mall where Alison..."

"Used towork," he interjected, his hand flying to his eyes. His shoulderssagged and he leaned against the doorframe wearily.

"I justwanted to check on you and see if you're okay. I heard whathappened."

"That'sso nice," he choked. He stepped backwards, stumbling into theapartment. Leaving the door open, which I took as an invitation tofollow him inside, he seemed oblivious to the odor that soonemanated which made me decide it was best left wide open. Theapartment was sparsely furnished with all the basics but everythingwas a cluttered mess. Empty beer bottles were strewn across thecoffee table along with a variety of muscle magazines anddumbbells, missing their twins. At the far end of the living spacewas a kitchen. The sink was filled with dirty dishes and ahalf-eaten microwave meal sat on the counter.

Colindropped onto the couch and leaned his head on the backrest. Ipicked the adjacent lawn chair and sat gingerly on it, unsure if Icould survive the stench of day-old curry and cheese, not tomention, my fear of falling through the frayed seat.

"No oneelse dropped by," he said, drying his eyes with the back of hishand. "Everyone thinks I killed her but I didn't. I really didn't.I loved Alison. She was the best thing that ever happened tome."

"Iknow," I told him. "People will realize that too."

"Itdoesn't matter. Someone killed my baby."

"I'mvery sorry for your loss."

Herolled his head towards me, his eyes unfocused. "You're sweet. Whatdid you say your name was?"

"Lexi. Iwork at Page's. I'm new. She probably never mentionedme."

"I don'tremember. I can't think clearly yet."

"This isobviously very painful for you. I know how upset you are," Istarted, "I heard you broke up recently."

"Did shetell you that? It was true. I didn't want to but everything kind ofgot blown out of proportion and then bam! It was over. I'm not evensure how it happened. Did you know about the other guy?"

"No," Isaid. "I don't know anything about anyone else."

"I don'teven know now if there was one. Maybe he'll show up now that she'sdead. Only a bastard would stay hidden now."

"Whatmade you think there was another guy?"

"Shesuddenly came into a bunch of money and claimed she was making moreat her job. I saw her payslips on the counter in the kitchen so Iknew that wasn't true. Someone was buying her expensive shit andshe loved it. I couldn't give her that kind of stuff. I'm anartist, man. I'll get my big break someday."

"Haveyou been an artist very long?" I asked as I looked around theapartment for any signs of art. There were none.

"Icustomize motorcycles. The best in Montgomery."

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