No One Else to Kill (Jim West Series) (8 page)

I continued my trek around the lodge. All in all, my
journey provided minimal exercise but nothing else.
 
I didn’t see anyone and didn’t develop any
clues or opinions on what had happened to Cross.

Two deputies walked out of the lodge as I went up the
stairs onto the front porch. They ignored me as they walked by.
 
I paused and watched them as they got into
their old Crown Vic and backed up.

“Hey!” I shouted at them as they nicked the back bumper of
my Mustang. They didn’t hear me, or chose to ignore me and drove off.

I walked out and inspected my car.
 
I was certain I saw the Mustang move slightly
as the rear of their cruiser backed very close to my car. A small dark scratch
looked new among the other older abrasions.

“Idiots!”
 
The damage was minor, but it irritated me to
think that they probably felt the slight bump and chose to ignore it. Too bad I
didn’t get a better look at their faces.

“Mr. West!”

I turned and saw a man whom I had not seen before standing
at the lodge’s entrance.

“Yes.”

“If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to speak to you now.”

“Sure.”

He reached out and I shook his hand.

“I’m Detective Randall Bruno.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said out of habit.

“You look cold.
 
Mind if we talk inside?”

“I’d prefer that, too.”

“Follow me.
 
They
gave me a small office to use.”

He looked nearly as old I was. His brown hair had some
gray that he didn’t try to hide.
 
He had
a slight paunch, but who didn’t these days?
 
His white shirt had enough wrinkles in it to make me think he might be
single.
 
Not that I expected all wives to
iron their husband’s shirts, but those who don’t usually aren’t too shy to
point out that a shirt is wrinkled.
 
I
have also found that most men would be content if wrinkled clothes became
stylish.

“Cup of coffee?” he asked when we were settled.

“No, I’m good.”

“Do you mind if I call you Jim?”

“That’s fine.”

“Do you have any idea who may have shot Mr. Benson?”

“No.”

“Did you know him well?”

“No, in fact I just met him last night at dinner.”

“Did he mention anything to you that might indicate that
he believed he was in danger?”

“No.”
 
I thought I
was done answering the question, and Detective Bruno referred back to his notes
rather than ask me anything additional.
 
As he did so, I remembered something. “He did make a fairly innocuous
comment about still having to watch his back.”

“What do you think he meant?”

“I don’t know.
 
I
believe we were talking about his business more so than about his employees at
that point. I didn’t pay much attention to the comment at the time. Sorry.”

“Did he talk much about the others?”

“Only that they were a good group of people.”

“Any indication he was having trouble with any of them?”

“No, but like I said, I only met him last night.”

“How do you get along with the rest of the group?”

“I don’t really know them.”

“But you were with them this morning.”

“What do you mean?”

“After the shooting, you were with the hunting group in
the dining room.”

“It was either that or sit by myself a table or two
away.
 
I thought that might be awkward.”

“But they let you join them?”

“Yes.”

“And you carried Ms. Pearson to her room after she
discovered the body--”

“If Ms. Pearson’s first name is Randi, then I did.”

“That doesn’t seem like the act of a stranger.
 
Weren’t their others in the group right
there?”

“Well, you’ve got me there, Detective.
 
For whatever reason, Randi swooned against me--”

“You have that effect on all women, Jim?”

The question came across more like he was playing with me
than being caustic.

“I wish.”

“What brought you to this hotel, and why are you alone?”

I liked this line of questioning better and for the next
few minutes explained to him about Stu and how I got sucked into the trip.

“When were you planning to head back?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Any chance I can talk you into staying at least a day
longer?”

“Why?”

“I need someone who can be my eyes and ears on the
inside?”

I looked at him but didn’t speak.
 
He finally started up again.

“Look, Jim, you’re not part of his clique.
 
You’re not part of the staff.
 
I also have it on fairly good authority that
you were in the dining room when the murder took place.”

“How’s that?”

“The receptionist said that Benson asked if he could use
an office right after you walked by him and headed into the dining room.
 
The sales record in the dining room also sets
the time the waiter started your order.
 
It was one minute before Benson logged into the computer.”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“Not me, I’ve got some smart young kids on my team.”

“Still,
weren’t most of the hunting
group
together down at the range?”

“Yes, but this whole case doesn’t make any sense.
 
All of them could even be in it together.”

“No weapon?”

“No, we haven’t found the weapon.
 
Other than staff, the only person that seems
to have been floating around at the time of the murder was Ms. Pearson.
However, piecing together what we have gotten from the staff, we believe she
was in her room or in the lobby at the time Benson was shot.”

“Have you interviewed her?”

“Just finished.
 
We also ran a test for gunshot residue and
searched her room.
 
She was cooperative
and said we could do anything we wanted, if it would help.”

“Did she seem normal to you?” I asked.

“No less normal than most people I meet in this job.
 
Why?”

“Nothing really, maybe I’m just getting old.”

“Will you help us out?
 
I know you’ve got a background in law enforcement, and I understand you
have helped out in the past.”

Damn internet.
 
“It’s not what I do.
 
I didn’t,
well,
it’s not what I want to do.”
 
I knew he was referring to a couple of past
misadventures I’d had in other murder investigations.

“But you did,” he said.
 
“So, how about this?
 
You and I get together tomorrow morning at
ten, back here in this room.
 
Just talk
to me one more time before you go. You don’t need to do any snooping.
 
I’m simply interested in what you might hear
between now and then.
 
Could you do
that?”

“Fair enough,” I said.
 
He probably figured that I had to be as curious about the shooting as he
would be if he was in my shoes.
 
“What
else can you tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Caliber of the weapon?”

“Small, likely a .22.”

“No one saw anyone go into or out of the room?”

“No.
 
Window was
shut and locked and the emergency exit door at the end of the hall would have
set off the alarm.
 
The killer had to
come and go down the hall to the lobby.”

“Could he have gone into one of the rooms in the hallway?”

“Sure, but there are only a few, and all the windows in
those rooms were locked from the inside. The only rooms that would have been
easy to access would have been the rest rooms. The other two were locked.”

“Someone could have been in the restroom, though, and
emerged with the chaos of everyone running down the hall.”

“Possible,” Detective Bruno admitted.

“And someone from the staff could have accessed the locked
rooms and come out in the same chaos.”

“Again, possible.
 
I don’t need you to try to solve the case for
us Jim.
 
I just want some eyes and ears
on the inside.”

“What’s happened to everyone’s rifles and or other
weapons?”

“There was some grumbling, but we took everyone’s rifles under
the pretext of eliminating them from the murder weapon.”

“No one admitted to having a pistol?”

“No,” he said.

“What was Cross doing in the room?”

“Something with fantasy football.
 
I’m not sure of the details, but I can’t
imagine it has anything to do with his death.
 
We’ve taken the computer though, just in case.”

“How about the two guys that have
disappeared?”

“The
Bettes

boys?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a good question.
 
We’ve got a lot of people looking for them.
 
Did you know them?”

“No, not at all.
Do you know if
they have any connection to Benson?”

“None that we know of.”

We talked for a few more minutes before he let me go.

 

 
Chapter 8
 
 
 

W

hen I left the interview, I saw
Tom Griffith and Aaron Nesbitt head into the dining room.
 
I went over and looked to see who else was
there. A couple more of the hunting group sat at the same table they had chosen
earlier, but Randi was not one of them. She had mentioned doing lunch
together.
 
I didn’t feel much like
eating, nor did I have a special desire to dine with Randi, but Bruno did get
one thing right: I was extremely curious about what happened, and other than
the killer, Randi knew more than anyone else.

Bev had opened the bar, so I headed there to wait for
Randi to appear.

“Same thing?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking she had a good memory. I took my
wallet out of my pocket.

“No charge.
 
Drinks
are on the house for the rest of the day.”

“Good thing I’m getting an early start.”

Bev grinned.

“How’s Rick doing?
 
Handling it ok?” I asked.

“Touch and go.”

I looked at her for more of an answer.
 
She leaned in close.

“It’s his sister.
 
She’s been gunning for his job ever since the lodge opened four years
ago.
 
Says he doesn’t
know how to make the place work.”

“This didn’t help.”

“No.
 
Somehow, she’s
making this out like it’s his fault.”

“Of course, it’s not.”

“I know it,” she agreed, “but
it’s
one more thing she’s can use against him.”

“Nice family.”

“It’s one of these rich, dysfunctional ones, although Rick
claims she’s the worst.
 
Without her, he
says the family would just have the normal squabbles.”

“Heard any rumors as to who may have done it?” I asked.

“No.
 
Must be one of the guests.
 
There’s some scuttle-butt that the two Steeler fans are connected with
some murder around here in the past.”

“You mean the two guys here last night in the Steelers
sweatshirts?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded.

“How did you learn that?”

She smiled at me and hesitated.

“Let’s just say an employee of the lodge has a close,
personal relationship with one of the deputies.”

“Interesting.”

“Apparently it’s got them all excited.”
 
She didn’t elaborate on “them,” but I knew
she meant the Sheriff’s office.

I thought about what she had said for a minute, and she
came to the wrong conclusion.

“It’s not me.
 
I
mean I’ve known a few cop types in my life, but I’m not the person the deputy
spilled the beans to.”

“I hope they catch them.”

“Me, too.
 
The quicker this mess gets resolved, the
better.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have more customers.
 
Free drinks are usually enough to draw a
crowd.”

“Free is one thing. Advertising the fact is something
else,” she laughed.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell,” I said.

“Have you decided when you’re leaving, Jim?”

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