Page 31 of Through the Fire
His eyes lit in a moment of clarity. “Jules! Yes, she’s my favorite waitress. She always remembers that I don’t like onions. Nasty things. Even if you pick them out, the whole meal still tastes disgusting.” He shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Elena. I’m Bernard Wernicutt, but everyone calls me Bendsie.”
“Very nice to meet you.” Alex wasn’t lying. This was perfect. Even if Bendsie remembered giving her information on how to get a gun, he could be easily discredited. “Since you’ve lived in town so long, I’m sure you’ll be able to answer my question.”
“Bet you’re right.” His thin shoulders pulled back. “I know pretty much everything there is to know about Monroe.”
Her smile wasn’t fake anymore. “Jules’s place is so isolated. I would feel so much safer with some home protection. Now that this happened”—she gestured toward the bombed store—“where can I buy a gun in this town?”
“Well,” he said. “Word is that Gordon Schwartz has a whole armory. Bet he’d be willing to part with a pistol for the right price.”
Bingo. “Where can I find him?”
“Find who?” His gaze had gone hazy again, and Alex held back a groan.
“Gordon Schwartz.”
“Why do you need to find Gordon?” His tone grew scolding. “Nice girl like you should stay far away from that wild boy. He’s going to get himself into serious trouble one day. After he blew up the Johnsons’ beehive, he didn’t seem sorry at all…just sorry he’d been caught.” He peered at Alex’s face. “Who are you?”
She sighed silently and mentally revised her plan. “Elena Dahl. I’m friends with Jules, who always remembers you hate onions. You were just telling me about your favorite gun.”
“My favorite gun?” He seemed confused but not unwilling to follow her lead. “The Peacemaker?”
Ugh. “No, the semiautomatic.” She was fishing, but she really didn’t want to be stuck with a single-action revolver.
“The Springfield pistol?” His eyebrows drew together. “That’s not my favorite. I just kept it because my nephew gave it to me. Can’t think of any way to sell it without hurting his feelings.”
“I’d be willing to take it off your hands. Let’s go get it now.”
“Uncle Bendsie!” a man shouted from down the block. He started hurrying toward them, and Alex saw her opportunity slipping away.
Turning so her back was to the approaching nephew, she grabbed a Sharpie out of her messenger bag. Tugging up Bendsie’s sleeve, she scribbled 32 Blank Hill Lane on the inside of his wrist. “Bring the gun to this address. Can you remember that?” He nodded, but she was still doubtful, so she added Springfield before tugging down his sleeve again.
“Thirty-two Blank Hill Lane,” he said slowly, smiling slightly. “Delilah Garmitt’s place. She’s a beauty.”
Alex didn’t know who this Delilah was—probably some woman from Bendsie’s past—but she happily took his memory and ran with it. “That’s right, and beautiful Delilah needs a gun for protection.” Slipping the pen back into her bag, she saw that Bendsie’s nephew was just twenty feet away, and she gave him a friendly wave before turning back to Bendsie, lowering her voice. “You need to bring the gun to Delilah.”
His wiry white brows drew together. “Is her no-good dad drinking again?”
The nephew was close enough to hear, so she just nodded deliberately, hoping that Bendsie’d remember with the help of the address on his arm.
“Uncle Bendsie, there you are.” Turning toward Alex, Bendsie’s nephew gave her a tight smile that warmed as he gave her a quick up-and-down glance. She quickly hid her annoyance at the interruption beneath a shy smile. “My uncle tends to wander off as soon as I’m distracted. At least he remembered to put on his coat this time. Half the time he comes outside in his bathrobe.”
“You live close by, then?” she asked, mentally working out yet another plan in case Bendsie didn’t come through for her.
“Yeah, just a block or so away.” Bendsie’s nephew turned and pointed down the street. “See the house with the inflatable snowman in the yard? Ours is the one right past that—two-eleven—in case you find my uncle wandering around again.”
“Who are you?” Bendsie asked.
With an apologetic grimace, his nephew took his arm and started escorting him down the snowy street. Alex watched as they walked away, the wheels turning in her brain. If this worked out, if Bendsie managed to remember long enough, he’d bring the gun right to her.
Not only that, but he’d most likely forget he’d ever met her. Alex felt a slow smile stretch across her face. Maybe fate wasn’t laughing at her. Bendsie Wernicutt was better than Grady’s General Store ever could’ve been.
* * *
Just seconds after Kit sat down in the chief’s office with her pile of paperwork, Justice sprawled out on the floor next to her chair, Hugh opened the door and stuck his head inside.
“Hey, young’un. Grab your dog and let’s go.”
Standing, Kit snatched her jacket from the back of the desk chair and pulled it on. Justice bounced to his feet, as happy as she was to escape the tedium of the office, and she clipped on his lead. Despite her excitement about being interrupted, she had to ask, “Am I going to get into trouble with the chief for blowing this off for the second day in a row? I know he let me skip the paperwork yesterday because of the fire, but eventually I’m going to have to sign up for health insurance.”
