Page 49 of Dead & Breakfast
“He was out past curfew and his friends can’t account for his whereabouts, not to mention there’s video of Dr.Young’s truck leaving the park around the time of the murder. Brody was the one driving it.”
“There’s no way the kid was involved. He might get up to a little vandalism with his friends, but he’s not a murderer.”
“Excuse me if I don’t take your word for it.” Arthur narrowed his eyes.
“Look, I know Brody. He used to work for me. He didn’t do this. That footage from the park isn’t definitive—and for all I know, it’s a deepfake.” McMartin shook his head and turned. “When the FPI gets here Monday, I intend to hand them an open-and-shut case proving one of you did it. Stop wasting my time with this nonsense.”
McMartin disappeared into his office and slammed the door.
“That went well,” Salvatore said cheerily.
“Well? I can’t think of any way it could’ve gone worse!” Arthur exclaimed, leading the way out of the station.
“I could have ended up behind bars again.” Salvatore stroked Rumble’s head. He’d turned the backpack around so it was more of a front pack, for easy cat access. “Or they might have taken this sweet child away from us.”
“I suppose we must simply do everything ourselves.” Arthur sighed and beckoned Salvatore forward. If McMartin refused to investigate anyone besides them, they’d have to find Brody and question him on their own.
“There’s one problem with that.” Salvatore held up his phone. “Brody’s been off the grid since before the murder. No status updates, no Stories.”
“That’s odd…Suppose we’ll have to hit the streets and search for him the old-fashioned way.”
“Yes, yes, good, good. Old-fashioned.” Salvatore tucked the phone away and nodded sagely. “Shall I wear a doublet and hose, do you think? Or is this more of a bell-bottoms and tie-dye affair?”
By the timedarkness fell over Trident Falls, Arthur and Salvatore were no closer to finding Brody. They’d biked across town what felt like a dozen times—to the park, the riverfront, downtown, even the trailheads. Trident Falls wasn’t very populated, but it was spread out. Arthur was beginning to find it all rather hopeless, so though he wasn’t particularly hungry, he readily agreed when Salvatore suggested stopping for dinner at Trident Slaws.
Sal insisted on buying enough for Nora, saying that even if she was a murderer, they couldn’t let her go hungry, as she was a guest at the inn. Arthur agreed, though Nora and Quinn were now at the bottom of his suspect list—even if they were both acting suspicious.
“Are you sure Brody wasn’t home when you dropped by?” Salvatore asked as they parked their bike in front of the restaurant.
“I don’t know. Dr.Young didn’t invite me in, but he didn’t act like Brody was there. The truck wasn’t in the driveway either.” Arthur shoved his hands into his pockets, frowning. “You don’t suppose Brody might have skipped town?”
“Maybe.” Salvatore pulled out his phone. “You can call the dentist and find out.” He waved it in Arthur’s direction.
“All right.” Arthur sighed and snatched the phone.
“If you open the browser and search forTrident Falls dentist, I bet it’ll come up.”
“Right…” Arthur gave Salvatore a sidelong glance.
“You don’t know how to google things, do you?” Sal’s jaw dropped with altogether more surprise than was strictly necessary, in Arthur’s opinion.
“It’s fine.” He tapped his head. “I’ve got all the emergency numbers memorized anyway.”
“In what universe is the dentist an emergency number?”
“Teeth are our first line of defense, Sal. If a tooth goes bad, that can lead to all sorts of issues, and—”
“Sorry I asked.”
Arthur dialed. Predictably, considering it was after fiveanda Saturday, the out-of-office voicemail played—press 1 to leave a message, press 2 to be connected to emergency services, press 3 to contact Dr.Young directly.
“Sal, the numbers aren’t showing; how do I hit 3 if—”
With a melodramatic eye roll, Salvatore took the phone. He tapped the screen a couple of times, then handed it back to Arthur. A ringing sound blared from the speaker, and Dr.Young answered.
“Dr.Young here, how can I help you?” His voice was curt and professional, if a bit put out by being called in the evening.
“Dr.Young, this is Arthur Miller.” He stopped himself from addingno relation, as the dentist had already been informed of this detail. Someday soon, perhaps, Arthur would be acquainted with the rest of Trident Falls enough to do away with the habit entirely. “We spoke earlier—I tended your garden.”
