Page 12 of One Little Memory (Cherry Valley Novella)

Now he was, if not happy, at least content.

He had a job he liked, and his life was simple.

Was being the key word. He couldn’t stomach the idea of Falcon being sick.

Just no. He couldn’t go through that again.

Their mother had died of cancer and their father of alcoholism.

Really, their dad had died of a broken heart.

It had been hard on Phoenix but harder on Falcon.

The idea that he might lose his brother was something he didn’t want to contemplate.

He immediately turned his mind back to the investigation as he pulled open the door of the bar.

The interior of the bar was dark, and he paused near the door to let his eyes adjust. There were quite a few people inside.

Not surprising for a Saturday night. A baseball game was playing on the TV over the bar.

Chance Daily, the bartender, looked up and nodded at Phoenix.

They’d met quite a few times back when Phoenix was still in uniform.

He used to break up bar fights a couple of times a month.

“Chance.”

“Phoenix.”

He scanned the room as he walked over to the bar.

There were about a dozen people inside: three at the bar, five more playing pool in the back room, three sitting at a table by the jukebox, and one back in the far corner booth, nursing a beer.

Phoenix recognized the guy. Lachlan Davenport.

He was similar in age and build to Phoenix.

He worked over at the mill in the next town over, or at least that’s what Phoenix thought he did.

Davenport was pretty good at keeping a low profile and keeping his nose clean.

“I’m looking for Lloyd. He here?”

The barman nodded. “He just went to the can. He’ll be back in a second. This about Gus?”

There was no point in not telling the truth. “Yeah.”

“Figured. I heard he was shot at point-blank range. Right in the chest.” Chance finished drying a glass and tucked it under the counter.

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

Chance just nodded. “The guy was an asshole, but that’s a hell of a way to go.”

Phoenix said nothing. Chance didn’t know the half of it. Being run down first and then shot was extreme.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?” asked Chance.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

Lloyd Bondy came wandering back from the bathroom.

He was staggering a bit, which was right on par for this time of night.

Phoenix bit back a sigh. Lloyd had a fringe of grayish hair and a big beer belly.

His flannel shirt was a faded red with off-white stripes.

Jo had said plaid. Maybe he’d changed? Huh.

By the look of him, he hadn’t changed in days.

More likely, she’d gotten the description wrong.

“Lloyd,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

Lloyd looked up as he was about to take his stool. “Phoenix,” he growled. “’Bout bloody time. I’ve been waiting to hear from you all day. I know who killed Gus.”

So that was why he’d stopped by the house . Phoenix gestured to the door. “Why don’t we discuss this outside?” If they talked inside, anything that was said would be all over town before Phoenix left the parking lot.

“I’ll be back,” Lloyd said, and he staggered past Phoenix.

Phoenix nodded at Chance and then Lachlan as he followed Lloyd out. “So,” he said as they came to a stop next to the police SUV, “what do you know?”

Lloyd looked around. He squinted as if to clear his vision. Once he was satisfied no one was around, he leaned slightly forward.

Phoenix had to stop himself from leaning back. The smell of beer and sweat was strong. The roast beef sandwich rolled in his stomach.

“Gus was an asshole, but he was a good guy.” Lloyd slurred words told Phoenix he was a little more gone than he thought.

“Uh-huh.”

Lloyd looked up at him, his eyes slightly out of focus. “Lots ’round here didn’t like him, but he was good to me.”

“Yeah.”

He pointed at Phoenix’s chest and then stumbled forward before righting himself. “He was. And he was a better man than people thought.” Lloyd burped. “He helped git me outta some trouble. The people I was involved with weren’t being honest and were gonna cause me trouble.”

“I see. Care to elaborate?”

“Just never you mind ’bout that.”

“Look, Lloyd, I need you to tell me what you know.” Phoenix was trying to be patient, but it was dark now, and he wanted to get back to Jo. Lloyd was obviously drunk, and anything he said at this point was questionable.

“That’s what I’m doin’!” He glanced around again. “Gus wasn’t who you thought he was, and that’s what got him killed.” His eyes drifted shut, then he blinked owlishly.

Phoenix waited. There had to be more than that, but Lloyd got distracted by a car driving slowly by. “Lloyd, what do you mean?” He needed the old man to give him more.

“I…” He watched the car turn the corner and disappear from sight. “I can’t talk about it but”—he raised his finger—“Gus was killed ’cause he knew something he shouldn’t. And because someone panicked, and then they got greedy.”

“Can you give me a hint Lloyd?”

Lloyd swayed. “Gus was really…” His voice died. He was staring over Phoenix’s shoulder. The car that had turned the corner was back and driving even slower.

Phoenix made a mental note of the license plate and then turned back to Lloyd. “How was Gus not who we thought he was?”

Lloyd focused in on Phoenix’s face one more time. “That’s all I can say.” He hiccupped and then burped.

“You didn’t say anything.”

“That’s right. I ain’t no snitch.” He straightened and then turned and started back toward the bar.

“Lloyd. Lloyd!” Phoenix called.

“What?” he snarled as he turned back around.

“Where were you last night between nine and eleven?”

Lloyd snorted. “Where’d ya think?” He pointed to the bar behind Phoenix. “Check with Chance. I would never kill Gus. He was a true friend.” The man lurched sideways and corrected as he hurried back into the bar.

Well, that was a waste of time. He’d gotten precisely nowhere with Lloyd.

It wasn’t a surprise really. Lloyd was always pretty much drunk by sundown, and now it had just gone eight p.m. He’d been lucky to get Lloyd to talk to him at all.

He would have to confirm his alibi with Chance.

“Shit.” He put his hand on the door handle of the SUV.

He let out a sigh and went back into the bar.

He stood at the end and waited until the bartender came over. He lowered his voice. “Chance, was Lloyd in here last night between nine and ten pm?”

Chance shrugged. “He usually is.”

Phoenix froze. He’d expected Chance to just say “yeah.” Something was off. “That’s not a straight answer.”

Chance picked up another glass and dried it.

“Chance.”

“Look, he came in around seven like he usually does. He was all riled up over something. He sat there for over an hour and downed a few beers. Then he said he had to go to the bathroom. It was almost nine. I noticed because one of the regulars asked to change the channel and it was all commercials because it was top of the hour.” He glanced around the bar.

“Lloyd was gone a long time. We got busy. It was Friday night, and the game sucked. Cheryl was off sick, so it was just me hustling all the drinks and JD in the back cooking. He came out a couple times to help me pour drinks but I don’t know what time.

When I looked up again, Lloyd was back in his chair, and it was last call. Ten forty-five.”

Well, shit. “Thanks.” He glanced around the bar. JD was the cook, and chances were excellent he wouldn’t have noticed Lloyd’s comings and goings if they were that busy. Maybe Lachlan would. He looked over to the back booth, but it was empty. Lachlan was gone.

Phoenix left the bar. He was going to have to talk to Lloyd again tomorrow even though the man would be hung over and ornery as they come. He was going to have to confirm his whereabouts. Things were not looking good.

He glanced at his watch again and realized he was going to have to drive out to the truck stop on the interstate to get a cell phone.

The shop in town that sold them closed at eight on Saturday nights.

He quickly debated whether he should wait until morning, but decided he didn’t like Jo being without a phone. Better to go now.

He got into his SUV and started the engine.

It was obvious that Lloyd knew something about what was going on, but was he the killer?

The thing was, Phoenix’s gut was telling him that no matter what Jagger said Gus was involved in, he had a sneaking suspicion it didn’t have anything to do with his death. Gus was hit by a metallic blue car.

Phoenix knew with each passing minute that whatever was going to come out during this investigation was going to change lives forever. He just hoped it wasn’t his.