The Devil Makes Three (20 page)

“Him? Is this like a boyfriend situation?”

“It’s an ‘I don’t have a clue what’s going on’ situation. But I’m seriously going to kick someone’s butt.”

“Do you like him?”

I shook my head and banged it against the oak desk. “I’d like to avoid thinking about that if at all possible.”

“Are you still coming to the poker game this weekend?”

Ever since I had said that on the phone to Corbin she had insisted it would be a good time, and had apparently already told the other players that I would join them. Grimacing, I heard myself commit to the arrangement before hanging up the phone.

Collin showed up shortly after I stuffed my laptop back in my bag and settled down in front of the office computer. He knocked on the door hesitantly and looked around.

“I didn’t see anyone around so I figured you’d be back here.”

“Was the gate open?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one to know that?”

“My father must be downstairs still, working on someone. Close the door.”

“Will he come in to say goodbye?”

“Yeah, but they think you’re a grad student, so don’t worry about it.”

“They won’t care that I’m here after hours?”

“We could be hip deep in illicit behavior and they would probably feel more gratitude than anything.”

“Grateful?”

“Yeah. They consider me socially incompetent. It might be a nice change for them to see me interacting with someone.”

He pulled a chair away from the desk and sat down. “Well I’m glad one of us seems unaffected by this situation. You’ve lost none of your humor.”

“My day’s been terrible. My humor is only thinly veiled restraint tending towards violent ideas. So let’s go ahead and add to it. What did Cohen say last night?”

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, cocking his head to each side and cracking his neck. “He showed up around 9:00 last night. He said Agent Rogers wasn’t in possession of the information he had and he wanted to talk with me before he told her.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s my brother and because there are things about this that you don’t know.”

“Such as?”

He scratched his chin and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

My eyes narrowed of their own volition. “Why?” Putting my back up was not the smartest thing he could do, especially since he might need my help clearing his name.

“If I tell you, I want your word that you will not use this information against my brother in any way. I might severely dislike him, but he is family and I don’t want to see his career ruined.”

“Oh boy. This should be good.”

“I want your word.”

“Collin, tell me what’s going on. I have the right to know, considering the fact that I’m suspected of murder.”

He took a long breath and let it out slowly. “My brother is not technically involved in this investigation.”

“Yeah. I figured that out when I spoke with Agent Rogers. I thought about telling you, but didn’t want to get you involved further. So why is he asking around if he’s not technically involved? Why does he care?”

“Because our mother was the other person Martins killed in that dressing room.”

I stared at him for a moment and let the information wash over me. It made my chest feel heavy. Corbin had avenged his mother’s murder. It explained so much about him. He was fiercely loyal if you gave him reason to be. He was distant and secretive, probably from some deep-seated psychological fear of getting hurt.

And another brother was trying to solve what he’d done.

“Gretchen?” Collin called me back from amateur night at the psycho-analytical festival.

“Why was your mother here?” I asked, refusing to completely return to the issue at hand. “You said you’re from Texas.”

“Her aunt died and my mother came to her funeral. She was shopping for a dress to wear to the service when he killed her.”

My sister had been shopping for school clothes with our mother when she had gotten killed. It should have been me. It was my turn to go shopping with mother, but I had acted up causing my mother to banish me to my room, and she took Maren instead. I had hated them both for it at the time. Then, when the police showed up at the door and told us what had happened, I hated myself.

“Are you all right?” he asked, peering at me cautiously.

“No. So why are you here then?” I asked, reaching for anything that might shove the memory back, out of my mind. “Why Jamestown? Why did you come here? And Cohen? What drew both of you here?” And Corbin, I wondered.

“My mother originally came from Jamestown and most of her living family is still somewhere around here.”

“What did Cohen say to you last night?”

“First, he flat out asked me if I had been present at the murder. I told him I hadn’t and that I didn’t think you had either. He ignored that and asked me if I had illegally purchased a .9mm Glock from a guy named Richard the Shark about a month ago. I replied that I had not, and that I don’t even know this Shark person.”

Something clicked in my head and I cringed. “Actually, you do.”

He paused and cocked his head to one side, eyebrows asking the question on his mind.

“He came to Crim the first day. I never saw him after that. I assumed he dropped.”

Collin considered this, then shook his head and went on. “I see. Anyway, I demanded to know why Cohen suddenly turned on me.”

“What did he say?”

“He explained to me the situation of the murder.”

“And?”

“He said there were two corpses and three guns. The Smith & Wesson never sat well with him, being a bit less ‘professional’ than the other two guns.”

“So? Why us?” I pressed.

“You know about the scrap of paper in Martins pocket.”

“Yeah.”

“That brought their attention to the funeral home. Then, about a week ago, Richard the Shark got arrested for burglary. Apparently, he fingered you for buying the Smith & Wesson from him, and me for buying the Glock,” Collin said.

“I gave Agent Rogers the gun I bought from him. It was a Glock. I admitted that I bought it but didn’t use it. Obviously the Shark got confused. Why should they take his word anyway?” I said.

“I’ll get to that. Cohen then told me that both the Smith & Wesson used in the murder and the Glock had been stolen in a house burglary in late September.”

I gulped and made no comment. Corbin knew his trade well. I was willing to stake everything on the idea that Corbin knew exactly where both guns had come from. But I still didn’t see why that was so damning. If anything it should cast doubt on my guilt. “So the gun I gave her the other night is that other gun. Fine. So they came from the same house. Just because they have a common source of origin doesn’t mean I murdered someone.”

He held up his hand, indicating he wasn’t finished. When I stopped, he continued.

“Richard the Shark was asked about the Glock and he refused to answer. That is the official record. But Cohen told me that when Agent Rogers left the room to take a call, he stepped inside and chatted with the guy. Richard said something very disturbing to him.

I had a feeling I knew what was coming, but asked anyway. “What did he say?”

“He asked Cohen if he really wanted him to tell Agent Rogers who had bought the gun.”

“Why?”

“It would seem, through further questioning that the person who bought the Glock looked like Cohen.”

“Which is why he thought it was you?”

“Yes. And since you say he was in class, he probably thinks it’s a story he’ll get away with, since you and I have a connection. He might have even seen us together, giving him the idea to implicate me, as well as you.”

“And he suggests you then gave the gun to me.”

He sat staring at me with a burning gaze. His intensity made me want to shrink under the desk and hide, but I figured it wasn’t a practical action at this juncture in the conversation. “Well the only thing I can think of is that he’s got his sales mixed up.”

He raised his eyebrows in skeptical hesitation and I began to sweat. “I don’t know what to tell you.” My voice quivered, feeling a rush of tears threaten. I was seriously screwed. Corbin had tried to save me, had tried to give me an alibi, but it hadn’t worked because the damn seller remembered us both. “I… I bought the gun when Martins came around here and I got scared. But I didn’t kill him. Why are they taking a career criminal’s word so seriously? For all we know he’s trying to implicate Cohen. Or you.”

“I told him that,” said Collin, softening his tone and gaze at the sight of my tears.

I sniffed and brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

“Implicating Cohen is probably Richard’s motive. Or he’s bitter I make my classes write papers.” He gave a weak smile at his own joke.

“So where does that leave us? What’s going to happen now? Is he going to keep pestering you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about Agent Rogers? If she found out about the accusation, Cohen might be suspected as well as you.”

“That’s my biggest concern. If she finds out there could be a full blown investigation against both Cohen and I, not to mention you, which would make it very hard to hide the fact that we’ve been seeing each other.”

“But you didn’t do anything.”

“And neither did you,” he pointed out.

We sat quietly for a moment then I searched the desk for a tissue and blew my nose. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, but was better than sniffling for the remainder of the visit. “So why were you so angry with me this morning?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He smiled weakly. “I don’t know. I guess I felt upset. I had to assure myself you weren’t involved. His information on the guns made me worry.”

“And now?”

“I believe you. We just have to figure out a way to make them believe us.”

I nodded and pulled a clean tissue from the box to dab at my eyes again. My innards felt icky from forcing Collin into this lie with me, and my eyes wouldn’t stop leaking. Finally I came to a conclusion that I couldn’t let him get involved any further. “Collin, I think you should walk away from it for now. I can take care of myself, but I don’t want you involved. You had nothing to do with it and I want you to keep out of it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You had nothing to do with it, either.”

“But I did see him. I did buy a gun. That’s more involvement than you had. Please. Just keep out of it. I can handle this.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not going to walk away from this. My brother or myself and a very dear friend have been implicated in a serious crime. I can’t ignore that.”

“But if Rogers finds out…”

“I don’t think Cohen or Richard is going to tell her. We just have to think of something that Cohen hasn’t thought of yet.”

The door to the hall opened suddenly and my father walked inside. He stopped short at the sight of Collin and my tear stained face. “Am I interrupting something?”

“My laptop is broken.” I moaned, shifting gears. “And my project was saved on it. I don’t know if I’m going to have it in time to hand in.”

Collin glanced from my father back to me and furrowed his brow, but went with it. “I’ll talk to the professor for you. We’ll work something out.”

“How did your laptop break?” My father asked, stepping up to the desk.

“I dropped it on the bus this afternoon. It’s all cracked and decrepit now.”

“We’ll get you a new one, sweetie. Don’t worry.”

He thinks I’m worried about the money. If only he knew.

“I should get going.” Collin stood and moved towards the door. Stopping, he turned and introduced himself to my father, shaking his hand firmly.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, Collin. Gretchen’s told us you’re a grad student. In what?”

“I focus in criminology.”

“That sounds like an interesting topic. What do you intend to do once you finish your studies?”

Collin smiled and shrugged. “I suppose I intend to teach.”

“At a university?”

“Hopefully.”

“Well good luck. We hope to see more of you.”

“Goodbye, Collin,” I said, practically pushing him out the door with my tone. He turned back and gave me one last appraising look before disappearing down the hall towards the front door.

“He’s nice. I like him,” my father said.

“Yeah. He’s a real keeper,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too conflicted.

“Does he have a brother in the FBI? I swear he looks a little like that agent in here in January.”

I snorted and shook my head, disbelieving my father had both remembered and recognized him. What I couldn’t believe was that he found the resemblance ‘little’. “Yeah. They’re brothers.”

My father nodded and moved onto a more pressing topic. “Do you need money for a new laptop?”

“No, Dad. I don’t.”

“What about your rent? Are you going to be able to make all your bills?”

“I’ll manage.”

He sighed and studied me. It felt uncomfortable, like he tried to see into my head. “I know you don’t want to live with your mother and me, but there’s always the apartment above the garage here. You could live rent free.”

“Thanks Dad, but I don’t think the cemetery is the place for me, just yet.”

Chapter 18

In which Gretchen practices her sewing skills

and gets thrown under a bus.

Corbin didn't come, like he said he would.

At 3:30 I searched through my phone's contact list and found one I didn't recognize. It was listed as 'financial advisor'. Pressing send, I let the phone ring. It never stopped. No voicemail picked up. Shutting the phone I began to pace, wondering what was up. The possibilities were countless, but I figured the most likely explanation was that he had a sense of what was coming and wanted to give me time to cool off.

As things stood, I wasn't sure how to feel about him anyway. In the back of my mind, I tried to ignore the hurt that blossomed from the other girl's arrival on the scene. Of course, if I had thought logically, I would have expected it rather than just giving it passing thoughts. Of course he had other women. All one had to do was look at the type of person he was and the life he led. Multiple women were inevitable for his sort.