To Thine Own Self Be True (10 page)

I laughed. “All right. I appreciate your help.”

His face darkened. “Can’t say for sure if it was Matthew or not who did this thing, but if it was, I don’t care if he is family.”

I thanked him and left. Nick met me in the foyer, where I shrugged into my coat.

“Got what you needed?” he asked.

“I think so.”

He waited, leaning an arm against the coat rack. “So you and Abe…”

“We’re good friends, just like always.” I zipped up my coat, not looking at him.

He stood still, his ski jacket hanging by his side. “But you tried to be more.”

I took a moment, pulling on my gloves. “We tried. It didn’t work.”

“May I ask why?”

I finally looked at him. “Because I know what feels right. And that didn’t.”

He studied my face, but when he opened his mouth to say something else, I pushed my way through the church’s doors and walked quickly to Lucy’s car.

Chapter Thirteen

“Still think Tess is up for a stop at Bart’s?” Lenny asked.

Lucy looked down at her daughter, who smiled happily, if not energetically.

“Sure,” Lucy said. “As long as it’s a quick stop. We have things to do at home yet before bed.”

Bart’s light was on, since Lenny had warned him we’d be stopping by. He greeted us at the door, and I hugged him tentatively, wary of the chest wound he’d suffered that summer.

“Nick Hathaway,” I said, gesturing to him. “Bart Watts.”

Bart looked Nick up and down while shaking his hand. “I guess you look tough enough to handle her.”

Nick laughed, and I gently slugged Bart’s arm.

“Come on in,” Bart said, ducking any more punches. His living room was free of Christmas decorations, except for a ceramic nativity set which covered the top of his coffee table amidst a spray of straw. The air smelled marvelously of lasagna and garlic bread, and Bart saw me breathing it in.

“Neighbor brought over supper,” he said. “Thought I’d need my energy if I’d be getting to mass this evening.”

“And did you get there?” Lenny asked.

“Sure. Still not too good with all the kneeling and standing, but I’m close.”

“And how about that Latin?” Lenny asked. “I had to go the Menno way, but at least I understood what was going on.”

“We don’t do Latin anymore, you dumbass. It’s all in English. Even you can understand that.”

“Okay, okay,” Lucy said. “It’s Christmas Eve, remember? Love and laughter, and all that.”

“What?” Bart and Lenny said innocently.

I snorted.

“Here,” Tess said. She thrust a package toward Bart, and he placed a hand on his chest.

“For me?”

“Open it!” Tess jumped up and down, shaking the floor.

“Give him a chance, honey,” Lucy said, smiling.

Bart made his way to a chair and eased himself down before tearing open the paper. “Oh, wow. Thanks.” A set of the three wise men, hammered in metal, stood a foot tall each and gleamed in the lamplight. “Ten Thousand Villages?”

Lucy nodded. “They’re from Guatemala.”

I glanced at Nick. “Ten Thousand Villages is a Mennonite-run business. Gives fair working wages to artists in poor countries. Lucy likes to shop there.”

He nodded. “I’ve heard of it.”

“They’re beautiful,” Bart said. “Thank you.”

“Now,” Lenny said. “What can you tell us about Matthew Snyder?”

“Who?”

“Tank,” I said. “Snyder’s his real name.”

“Oh, that asshole. Whoops, sorry, Lucy.”

She smiled tightly.

“From what I know,” Bart said, “Tank harassed tattoo artists, got put away back in 1996. That Detective Shisler says he’s out now. Nobody told me.”

“It was suggested tonight that I check out his girlfriend’s place,” I said. “You happen to know a woman named Mary Detlor?”

Bart’s head snapped up. “Know her? Sure. Hardcore biker chick, pretty burned out. Not one of us. Met her at Lansdale Bike Night a couple years ago. Lives in Sellersville, if I remember right. She’s hooked up with Tank?”

“That’s what my source tells me.”

“And your source?”

I smiled. “Old Mennonite guy.”

“Figures.”

“You know where she lives?”

“Nope. Give me a second, though.” He pushed himself up and moved slowly into his kitchen, where he opened a drawer, ruffled through some papers, and pulled out the three-inch thick phone book. “Nope,” he said. “Not in here.” He grabbed his phone and started punching buttons. “Hey, it’s Bart,” he said into the receiver. “You know where Mary Detlor’s living these days? Uh-huh. Which house? Oh, okay. Just wondering. Thanks, man.”

He came back in and leaned on his chair, a pleased smile on his face. “Lives on Old Mill Road in Sellersville. You’ll know her place by the beat-up Mustang parked on the street. Her truck and bike are in the garage.”

“Wow,” I said. “You work fast.”

“Just have to know who to ask.”

Like Peter Reinford. If you have the right resources…

I looked at Lucy. “Any chance we could stop at Detlor’s place on the way home?”

She sighed, but nodded. “It’s for Wolf and Mandy, right?”

“Yup. The cops have yet to run this guy down, and this seems as good a bet as any. I don’t want to send the police out on Christmas Eve if it’s a wild goose chase.”

Lucy studied Tess, who was curled up on Bart’s couch, her feet tucked under her. Lucy lifted a shoulder. “Eh, what’s ten more minutes?” She squinted at me. “Shouldn’t be longer than that, right?”

“I just want to see if he’s there.”

“All right.”

“Sorry. Guess we should’ve brought two cars.”

She waved that away. “There was no way to know. We’ll be all right.”

“Oh, Bart,” I said. “Have you heard any rumors about Wolf having—” I glanced at Tess “—having interests other than Mandy?”

He frowned. “No way.”

“Didn’t think so. But Gentleman John said something today, and I at least needed to ask.”

“Gentleman John’s an assho… He’s a liar.”

“Okay. Well, Merry Christmas. Hate to beg favors and run, but—”

“Hey, Princess, it’s good to see you at all. And I’ll be hitting the hay soon anyway.”

Lenny loomed over him. “Now don’t you be shoveling that walk tomorrow. I’ll be by when I can.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “You’d think I was a baby.”

Lucy laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You know it’s because he loves you.”

“Oh, yuck,” Lenny said.

“Besides,” Bart said to Lenny, “you know my cousin’s picking me up in the morning to spend Christmas with the relatives.”

Lucy tugged Tess up from the couch and Tess turned to wrap her arms around Bart’s neck. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Bart.”

His face sure lit up at that.

Nick shook Bart’s hand again, and we trooped out to the Civic, where Lenny had to brush the snow from the windshield.

“One more stop,” I said. “Then we can go home.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You sure this is the place?” Nick peered out the passenger window.

I tapped on the glass. “There’s the Mustang Bart mentioned. And the garage.” I pulled my gloves on. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“You ain’t going yourself,” Lenny said.

“Come on, Len. What do you think’s gonna happen?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Either me or Nick come with you, or you don’t go.”

Like he could stop me getting out my door and heading toward the house. But it was Christmas Eve. “Fine. You can flip for it.”

I opened the door, shutting it quickly against the cold breeze, and started up the walk. A car door opened and closed behind me, but I didn’t look back.

The doorbell at the top of three icy steps was a hazardous-looking contraption that might’ve electrocuted me if I’d touched it wrong. I banged on the door, instead, and Lenny stepped up beside me.

“Lost the coin toss, huh?” I said.

“Nah. Just told Nick I was coming. He didn’t argue too much.”

“That’s because he knows I can handle a simple house call by myself.”

Lenny grunted.

I banged on the door again, and finally heard some footsteps. I straightened my backbone, not sure what to expect from what Jonathan Long and Bart had told me about Mary Detlor. But it was Tank who opened the door, and I gasped at the sewn-up wound traveling from his forehead, through his eyebrow, and across the bridge of his nose. There must’ve been two dozen stitches.

“No charities,” he said. “Get lost.”

Lenny stepped forward to put his considerable bulk over the threshold. Tank squinted, and a shiver of unease ran up my spine at the sight of the two of them matching up.

“Come on, Len,” I said. “There’s nothing else for us here.”

We had what we’d come for. We knew where Tank was. But I sure was curious about that cut on his face.

Lenny met Tank’s eyes for a moment longer before stepping back. I was turning to go when someone called from inside.

“Who is it, Matty? Ain’t you gonna ask ’em in?”

I just had time to register the slurred, sultry voice before the woman appeared at Tank’s side. I tried not to gape at her, but Lenny’s feelings were broadcast loud and clear on his face. Besides the woman’s appearance—ratty to the point of slutty bag lady—the waves of alcohol radiating from her were almost enough to make me tipsy. A hideous tattoo of a devil molesting a naked woman covered most of her arm, which was bare to the strap of her filthy tank top, and tattooed black liner surrounded brown eyes that would’ve been beautiful had they not been bloodshot and watery.

“Hey, big guy,” she said to Lenny.

Lenny cleared his throat, but was saved from replying by Tank pushing the woman back with his arm. “It’s nobody for you, Mary.”

She swayed against him and ducked under his arm, grinning slyly. “Nobody for you, either, ’less you like ’em big.” She said this last while looking at me, and a touch of scorn marked her voice.

I wasn’t that big, really, but I guessed she was at least three inches shorter than my five-nine, and God, was she scrawny. The brown mess of split ends on her head looked ready to topple her over if Tank hadn’t held her upper arm.

“We’re just looking for somebody’s house,” I said. “Sorry to bother you.”

Tank looked at me. “Who are you, anyhow? You look familiar.”

Shit. I didn’t want him running before the cops could get there.

“Don’t know why I’d look familiar,” I said.

He studied me some more, but finally shook his head. Either he had a bad memory or he’d been sharing Mary’s liquor. Or he’d been so mad at Wolf Ink he hadn’t even noticed I was there.

“Come on, hon,” Mary said to Lenny. “Why don’t you come in, have some of the sweet Christmas pie I made just for tonight. I make a mean pie, don’t I, Matty, baby? Bet I could win a blue ribbon if I entered a contest.” She swiveled her shoulders, making me wonder if she was talking about an actual pie or something else altogether.

Lenny turned a bit green, but I guess it could’ve been the light shining through the doorway.

“We really have to get going,” I said. “But thanks for the invitation.”

She turned to me. “I didn’t invite you.”

How true.

Lenny and I picked our way down the steps, trying not to slip on the unsalted cement.

“Wait a minute,” Tank said. “I know who you are. You got a tattoo at Wolf’s place.”

Crap.

I turned around, pasting a look of innocence on my face. “We were there at the same time?”

“Couple days ago,” he said. “Monday.”

“Sorry. I must’ve been zoned out.”

His nose twitched. “Jackass Wolf wouldn’t do me that day. I wanted to have it done for Christmas.”

“He was all booked up?” I tried to sound sympathetic.

Tank snarled and shook his head. “I’ll go back. He’ll do me then for sure.”

Sounded like a threat to me, but I was confused. Tank talked like Wolf wasn’t missing. I considered whether or not I should say anything, but figured if he really hadn’t killed Mandy he was too stupid to realize he’d be a suspect.

“You haven’t heard?” I asked.

His eyes were blank. “Heard what?”

“Wolf’s missing. And Mandy’s dead.”

He stared at me. “You shittin’ me?”

“Nope.”

“Well, goddamn. I guess somebody got to them before I could.”

Lenny made a sound beside me, and I stepped forward, cutting off whatever approach he was going to make.

“You didn’t know?” I asked, trying to keep the surprise from my voice.

He shrugged. “I been holed up here since Monday, with this and all.” He pointed to his stitches. “Had a helluva headache. And I don’t watch no TV that has news.”

Lovely. I tried not to imagine what kind of shows he favored.

“So who done it?” he asked. “And where’s Wolf?”

“I don’t know.”

He smiled nastily down at Mary, whose attention seemed to have left us and gone to some unfocused space in her front yard.

“Bet it has something to do with Wolf’s other chick,” Tank said.

I sucked in my breath. “What?”

“Like he was a saint. Oh, no, Wolf never does nothing wrong.”

I took another step forward. “Who is she? What’s her name?”

He made a face at that, like how was he to know? “Don’t ask me. Just saw her one time with Wolf, at the Bay Pony Inn. Took Mary here out for her birthday, and wouldn’t you know, there he was with this other broad, candlelight dinner and all.”

I glanced at Mary, thinking there was no way she would ever fit in at a posh restaurant like that.

Tank followed my gaze. “She cleans up good when she ain’t hammered.”

I pulled my eyes from Mary. “This other woman. You never saw her before?”

“Why would I have? It’s not like me and Wolf run together.”

My frustration mounted. “You can’t tell me anything about her?”

“Well, I didn’t say that. Because yeah, there was one thing that stood out.”

“And what was that?”

He touched his cheek. “She had a tattoo here. Of a butterfly.”

The cold in the night air was suddenly warm compared to the ice in my chest.

“What?” Lenny said quietly. “You know her?”

I swallowed. “Let’s go, Lenny. Now.”

We turned to walk away, and Lenny grabbed my arm as I stumbled toward the car.

“You never did say what charity you were with,” Tank called after us.

Lenny glanced at me, questions lighting up his face.

“Benevolence fund,” I said over my shoulder. “For the cops.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know what Tank thought of that.