Page 21 of Bait and Switch
Spurring shifted his weight, eliciting more protest from the furniture. “It’s my job to get to the truth of what happened to Mr. Stevens. And your job is to tell me the truth about your relationship with the victim.”
Gabriel forced himself not to ask if the deputy had a hearing issue. “Well, I had nothing to do with his death. I have stated, twice now, that our relationship was over. We weren’t speaking. I’d moved out and have no idea how he came to be on Heartstone. As I told you last night, he showed up a week ago and I wasn’t at the marina—ask Ranger Lundin if you don’t believe me, or Elton because I was with him. Lundin talked to him briefly and Peter left of his own accord. I expected him tostop by again, but he never did. End of story. Surely, Lundin’s security feed showed you that.”
All he got for his trouble was a noncommittal grunt and a sour face at the mention of Lundin’s name. Gabe figured that they’d watched the video several times already and wished it showed more. The tape was clear evidence that no one but Gabe and Lundin had entered the dock through the gate in the past week.
Abruptly, Spurring stood up from the table, bumping it with his thigh this time. “Don’t leave town.”
Gabe sucked in another breath, drawing upon a well of patience that was running dry. “You can’t force me to stay in town without cause. If you call me in again, I’m bringing a lawyer along.”
Gabe didn’t want to play the lawyer card, but he would if he had to. So far, he’d been able to skate around the hard facts. And he’d learned that Vale was an alias. It was not a shock, not in their business, but Gabe felt oddly hurt that Peter had never told him.
“You do that,” Spurring retorted with a mean smile. He lumbered to his feet and gestured for Gabriel to leave the room ahead of him.
That man is trouble, Chance, and not in a good way.
Gabe found himself nodding in agreement.
On his short trip back out to the lobby, Gabe heard Elton’s voice. When Elton spotted Gabriel coming around the corner, he stopped talking and rose to his feet, both bushy white eyebrows raised in question. Gabe nodded but kept moving toward the exit. He didn’t have anything to do with Peter’s death, but being in the station made his skin crawl.
Outside the station,the tail end of November weather was living up to its reputation. It had been a steady rain when he and Elton arrived at the station but now it was pouring, and it seemed that some of the precipitation was slushy snowdrops. The day had also gotten darker since he’d been inside. Gabe peered upward, and a drop of water fell into one eye; he blinked it away.
Needing some fresh air after the gym sock assault, Gabe waited next to the passenger door while Elton slowly climbed into the truck and scooted behind the steering wheel. The man seriously needed a step stool.
An older silver Mercedes pulled into the lot and passed by them, parking a few spaces away. Gabe understood the choice, Elton’s truckmenaced. It hulked, it was a beast. The vehicle lorded over two parking spots all on its own, and then some. Which was probably why Elton insisted on driving as much as possible, the thing was a tank.
Curiosity piqued, he watched an older-than-him-but-younger-than-Elton man emerge from the Mercedes sedan. For a moment, the stranger paused next to his vehicle, staring at the greenish-white building. He was average height and appeared lean under the fitted raincoat he was wearing. Gabe couldn’t see his face, but he had the sense the man was steeling himself for something unpleasant. There was a reluctance in his stance.
Then the stranger’s shoulders rose and fell as if he’d taken a deep breath to fortify himself, and he began making his way toward the front entrance, his steps slow and measured as he started around the corner. Just as he turned to push open the door, Gabe caught a glimpse of his profile and had the strangest sensation of familiarity.
“Back to theTicket?” Elton asked after Gabe scooted onto the bench seat and shut the door.
Shaking off the twisted déjà vu, Gabe started to agree, but his stomach growled, overruling him. There was nothing decent in his mini-fridge. The rumble was loud enough to be heard over the rain thumping against the cab of the truck. Glancing across the bench seat, he caught Elton’s amused glance.
“Hungry? Let’s head over to the Geoduck Inn. They have breakfast until noon, and the burgers are good too.”
Gabe’s stomach rumbled again. “I think that’s a great idea.” He felt vaguely guilty about being hungry, as if his body needed to work harder than it was at mourning Peter. But on the other hand, maybe the best way to grieve him was to figure out who the fuck murdered him since the Twana County Sheriff’s Office wasn’t going to.
NINE
Gabriel
Around lunchtime, Tuesday
The Geoduck Innwas a mile or so down the highway. The funky aging restaurant was housed in a long, low one-story building and had been constructed with lumber that had darkened to almost black over the years. Gabe vaguely remembered driving past it the day he’d arrived.
“Elton! It’s been too long!” A slender woman with long dark hair, who looked to be possibly in her late forties, greeted them when they stepped inside out of the storm that had rolled in. “Hello, Elton’s friend,” she added with an engaging smile. “Sit anywhere you like. Coffee? Your usual or are you going wild today?”
Gabe smirked. Of course, Elton knew the host. The question was, who didn’t he know?
“Always lovely to see you, Livia, it has been too long. Two coffees and two standard breakfasts. Unless there’s something you can’t eat?” The last words were intended for Gabe.
“Nope. I’m hungry, a hot breakfast sounds amazing.”
Except for Elton, Gabriel, and three damp bikers sitting morosely around a horseshoe-shaped bar that jutted from the kitchen out into the room, the restaurant was basically empty. There was a single retirement-age couple sitting at a tall table against one wall, enjoying pints of beer and a basket of fries, but it was too early to be playing pool or darts, and the jukebox was quiet.
The bare wood walls were hung with stuffed hunting trophies, mostly elk and deer—Gabe thought anyway. These shared the space with neon signs advertising lite beer and what appeared to be a signed poster of Wayne Gretzky. Huh.
Shrugging out of his damp parka, Gabriel followed Elton across the large space to one of several tables placed next to floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows.
