Page 51 of The Body in the Backyard
“That’s a good question. How about we start with the fact that your grandfather’s gun isn’t loaded because the firing pin stopped working in the seventies and you don’t even own bullets for it. But we’re still standing here with our hands up because we just want to talk.”
Wilfred dropped the gun. “How did you know that?”
“It’s a long story,” Riley said, sagging against Nick’s back.
“Man, I don’t know about you guys, but I could go for a drink,” Nick said, dropping his hands.
“So youareworking for Griffin?”Wilfred clarified as he stared morosely into his Long Island iced tea.
They were sitting at the bar of a divey restaurant. The cat—Elizabeth Taylor—purred happily on the bar in her carrier.
“Technically in the sense that he hired us to find out who’s been threatening him, yes,” Nick said, then took a swig of his beer.
“But we’re not happy about it,” Riley assured the jeweler as the bartender plopped a beer down in front of her.
Wilfred put his head in his hands. “I never should have made those cuff links.”
“What cuff links?” Nick asked.
The jeweler sighed. “A few months ago, Griffin came into my shop and told me he wanted to design a pair of custom cuff links. He was going to wear them at some local daytime TV awards ceremony. I was ecstatic. I thought it would be great exposure for the store. We’ve been struggling since the rent went up at the beginning of the year. We were falling behind. I just needed to hold on until our December trunk show, which always brings in three months’ worth of revenue in one weekend, but it was becoming apparent that we might not make it until then.”
“So you agreed to make the cuff links,” Riley filled in sympathetically.
Wilfred nodded. “It was a $25,000 job. I set aside all other paying jobs and worked night and day to get them done.” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his phone. “They were perfect.” He thumbed through his photos and turned the screen their way.
They were something all right, Nick noted. Ridiculously over the top, ostentatious. They didn’t whisper “I’m wealthy.” They screamed it.
“They’re art deco emerald-cut canary diamonds. Some of my best work,” Wilfred said. “And I’ll never see them again because Griffin Gentry is a crook.”
Riley paused midsip. “What happened to the cuff links?”
“He showed up the day of the event to collect them. When I took him to the register to ring him out, he said that he was running late and would settle up with me later. He left the store with the cuff links, and he’s avoided me ever since. After several phone calls and letters, I finally received a letter from his attorney saying that the cuff links were a gift from me and that any further attempt to collect payment would be met with legal action. Legal action I can’t afford.”
Elizabeth Taylor let out a mournful meow in her carrier.
“Is that why you’re closing your store?” Riley asked.
“I have no other choice. I had to let my staff go. There just isn’t enough revenue coming in. And even if some miracle occurred and he returned them, it’s not like I could find someone else willing to spend $25,000 on a set of cuff links.” Wilfred took a morose sip of his drink. “Three generations of my family have run this store, and now I’m the one to drive it into the ground.”
Riley met Nick’s eyes over his head with a can-we-please-help-this-guy look on her face.
“Let’s get this part out of the way,” Nick said. “You pulled a gun on us. What’s to say you wouldn’t do the same to Griffin…even though he deserves it?”
Wilfred sighed. “It’s my grandfather’s gun. My parents kept it in the shop as a deterrent. I kept it for nostalgia. Like LuEllen…er, Riley said, there are no bullets because the firing pin is broken. The best I could do would be to throw it at a robber.”
“Okay. Easy enough to verify. Now, let’s talk about where you were yesterday between noon and one thirty.”
“My mother watched the store for me while I went to a twelve o’clock Pilates class with my friends. Afterward, we went out for crepes.” Wilfred took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“Do you have any reason to do harm to Griffin Gentry?” Nick asked.
“What would I gain from that? He already won. He can afford better lawyers than I can. Besides, with my luck, if he gets himself murdered, he’ll probably be buried with my cuff links.”
“I feel awful,”Riley groaned when they got back in the Jeep.
“It’s not your fault Gentry is a selfish, entitled shit,” Nick pointed out. “I didn’t catch any nose twitches. Nothing from the spirit guides?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t pick up on any homicidal tendencies. Just an overwhelming sense of despondency, which seems to have seeped into my brain, and now I’m sad and I want ice cream.”
