Page 18

Rebel

I t took no time at all to track down Sherman Stayer, the irresponsible asshole who did all those piss-poor jobs that I had to go in and fix. We’d decided that we’d only ask him about the first break-in, at least for starters. Depending on his answers I might have to beat more info out of him. We found him at home, which was a rundown shack on the wrong side of the tracks. He was sitting on his front porch rolling a cigarette. At first, I thought it was marijuana but when we got closer, I could smell the scent of strong tobacco.

When he saw me get off my bike and start walking towards him, he frowned. Although I remembered his face from the day Lacey fired him, he looked a bit rougher. Clearly being fired had not sat well with him. Sherman looked grubby, had a scruffy beard, and was wearing denim overalls with no shirt. And he was barefoot to boot.

Before I could properly greet him, he demanded, “What the hell do you want? You already took my job. Do you want to take my house too?”

“Stop being an asshole. We’ve come to talk to you about the break in at Livingstone Electrical.”

His expression turned confused, but he tried to cover by bringing the cigarette he just rolled to his mouth. His chin trembled slightly as he stuck out his tongue and slid it down the edge of the paper to get it to stick together. His hands were shaking more than I would have expected from a man his age.

When he finished, he stuck the end in his mouth and lit it. After inhaling a couple of times, he asked, “Is Lacey okay? I know things fell apart there towards the end, but I never had any hard feelings towards her or wanted anything bad to happen to her.”

“Lacey is fine,” I told him. “The break in was during the night. She was fast asleep at home when it happened.”

He nodded. “I’m glad she’s okay.” He flicked his ashes off the end of the porch and took another drag from his cigarette.

I gave him a few seconds to suck down some nicotine before asking, “Where were you on the twenty-second of last month?”

He took another puff and stared into my eyes. “What the hell kind of question is that. I can’t even remember what I had for lunch yesterday, much less what I was doing weeks ago.”

“Did you break into Livingstone Electrical, Sherman?” I asked the question even though I was getting the distinct feeling this man was seriously out of the loop when it came to the goings-on around town.

“Do I look stupid to you?” Without giving me a chance to reply, he added, “I’m not about to wind up in jail over some office trinkets.”

“Someone tried to get into the safe,” I shot back.

“Whoop-de-do,” he responded flippantly. “They probably keep their business license, and tax documents, along with a bunch of shit that ain’t of interest to anybody but them.”

“Maybe you thought there was money in there?” I suggested.

He gave me a withering look. “I worked there for years and never saw them accept cash from a client. Everything with Livingstone was electronic. Livingstone always kept a hundred bucks in his desk drawer for emergencies, but everything was either checks, bank transfers, or card payments.”

“Weren’t you angry that you got fired? Revenge is a powerful motivator to get even.”

“Yeah, I was angry. But people get fired every day. Getting fired doesn’t automatically make me a criminal. I don’t have it in me to hold onto grudges. It’s too fucking exhausting.”

Nothing about this man made me think he had something to do with the break ins—either at the office or last night. Finally, I asked, “Do you know of anyone who might have a motive for breaking into the office?”

He hesitated for a moment before responding. “Well there’s Mark. He lost a management job that paid well.”

“So, you think he broke in?”

“Now, did I say that?” he asked sourly. Not waiting for me to answer, he continued, “No, I didn’t say anything of the sort. Don’t try to put words in my mouth. You asked who might have a motive. Mark might have a motive but that doesn’t mean he did anything illegal.” After pausing to rub his cigarette out on the cracked concrete porch floor, he stated, “Mark has always been all talk. He thinks too much of himself to do stupid shit that might land him in jail. His style is more bitching to anyone who’ll listen at the bar.”

I shot Storm and Celt a dark look. Before I could speak, Sherman did. “Are you guys spoiling for a fight? If you are, I’ll damn sure give you one.”

This wily fucker was out of his damn mind to provoke us. I snapped my head around to glare at him. “I should beat your ass for all those shoddy jobs you did. You hurt the company and caused no end of trouble for Lacey and her parents at a point in their lives when they really needed a stable income to care for her father.”

“Yeah, I feel bad about that, but I already got my punishment,” he said as he looked off into the distance. “My punishment was losing the only good job I ever had.”

A short silence spun out as I thought over his words. Finally, Storm muttered, “This isn’t getting us any closer to finding the person responsible for these break-ins.”

“Break-ins?” Sherman repeated.

“Yeah, someone trashed Lacey’s parents’ home last night too,” I said, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to tell him.

“Shit! Are Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone, okay?”

“No one was home,” I responded.

Celt added, “We need to have a little chat with Mark Shepard, just to make sure that he really is all talk and no action.” Turning to look at Sherman, he asked, “Do ye know where we can find the fecker?”

Sherman grimaced before responding. I watched him go back and forth in his mind about ratting his friend out.

Trying to tip the scales in our favor, I quickly assured him, “We just wanna talk to him, like we did with you. If it turns out he had anything to do with it, we’ll call the cops.”

Sighing, he told us, “He’s normally drinking at the Boar’s Head about now.”

After a few more exchanges, we said our goodbyes and I stalked over to my bike. The others followed suit. “Let’s run down this last lead,” I told them. “If this doesn’t pan out, I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell Lacey.”

Storm strapped his helmet in place and muttered, “Let’s cross one bridge at a time here. Rome wasn’t built in a damn day, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. The thing is, I’m getting sick and tired of all our leads turning out to be dead ends.”

While we were talking, Celt found the address for the Boar’s Head. We set out with grim determination to find the bar and finally get some answers. It was located on the other side of the county line in Spartanburg. Usually, we had to hunt all over town to find someone. Sherman had been easy to find by comparison. With any luck tracking down Mark would be the same.

***

When we walked into the Boar’s Head, we found Mark sitting front and center at the bar. He was eating pork barbeque and drinking a huge mug of cold beer. I recognized him too from the day Lacey fired the two of them. He’d been arrogant and condescending and told her to move because she was in his seat. He’d been shocked when Lacey fired him. She’d since told me that her mother wouldn’t put her father on the phone, so Mark had never gotten the opportunity to make his final appeal to her father.

I slid onto an empty chair on one side of him and Celt sat on the other, hemming him in. He went into a full-blown panic when he casually looked up to find me staring at him.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked belligerently.

The way Mark responded to me immediately got my hackles up. This man was a weird mixture of scrawny and just plain mean. His hair was neatly combed back and looked slick like he still wore old-fashioned hair oil or something. His angry blue eyes were ice cold. I couldn’t help but notice that one ear was noticeably bigger than the other.

I decided to give him the same energy back. “Why the fuck is your default cursing at me? Did I do something to piss you off in another life?”

He pointed at me with one finger, still holding his bun full of pork barbeque. Some of the filling spilled out onto the counter. “You sassed me when that bitch fired me and took my job.”

My eyebrows flew up as I tried to parse what he just said. “I sassed you? What the fuck does that mean?”

Throwing his bun down onto his plate, he clarified, “It means you didn’t show me respect and threatened to throw me out if I didn’t leave on my own.”

“In other words, I enforced the boundaries your boss was laying down, back when you thought you could do an end run around her and get your way by talking to her old man. Is that about the size of it?”

He shook his head as he wiped his hands on a napkin. “They did me dirty and you were part of it, so don’t sit here and pretend you don’t understand why I’m pissed at your sorry ass.”

“Point taken, I guess. Exactly how pissed are you about this situation?” My question was of course designed to gauge if he was furious enough to seek revenge.

“I was a lot more pissed before I found another job that pays better and is whole fucking lot less stressful.”

“What kind of job is that? I’d sure like one of those myself.” My words were meant to calm him down and dial down the tension.

Mark wasn’t having it though. He snapped back harshly, “It ain’t none of your business, shithead.”

“Here’s the problem, the reason for our visit. Someone broke into the office and tore the place apart.”

He snorted a laugh, picked up his beer, and took a huge drink before responding. “I heard all about that. It’s a real shame and couldn’t have happened to a nicer family.”

My eyes narrowed on this arrogant asshole who took joy in another family’s hardship. “Now, you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

Going back to looking angry, he growled, “I’ll tell you what I know about that break-in. If the Livingstones didn’t treat people like garbage, folks wouldn’t be dying to mess their shit up.”

I glared at him. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Do you mind if I ask where you were on the twenty-second of last month?”

“That was a Friday, right?” When I nodded, he said, “The same place I am every fucking Friday night. Having pizza with my family. They always want to go to that fucking kids’ place with the animatronics. God, I hate that place. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids, but the place is always stuffed to gills with kids and most of them act like feral animals.”

My eyes shifted from him to Celt and back again, because this fucker had an answer for everything. “You expect me to believe all that?”

He gave me the biggest smirk ever. “I don’t particularly give a shit if you believe me or not. You’re not a lawman or anyone I’m obligated to answer to. The pizza place has security cameras. If you want to play detective, go check it out. Just leave me the hell alone.”

I leaned over and lowered my voice. “I will definitely check it out. Here’s the thing, if I find that you’re lying to me, our next conversation will involve less talking and more me beating your ass.”

“Are ye listenin’, sonny boy?” Celt said darkly.

He glanced at Celt to the right and rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna need more than one Irishman to back you up if you plan to kick my ass.”

When I lunged at him, Storm was behind me and jerked me straight back and off the barstool. “Leave it. We can kick his ass anytime. We need to verify what he’s telling us. I’m almost hungry enough to actually eat their pizza.”

Celt chuckled, “Let’s get finished as soon as possible. I want to get back to the clubhouse and feckin’ decompress.”

“I’ll second that,” I told him. The idea of spending time with Lacey was compelling, so hopefully our business at the pizza place wouldn’t take long.

***

None of us had to look up the address of Chummy Cheese Pizza and Puppets, as it was a long-standing local favorite. Every kid who grew up in and around Griffinsford knew exactly where it was located. I’d never been before, firstly because I didn’t have kids, and secondly, because puppets freak me the hell out. As do clowns—and if that joker at the door came any closer, then I was not gonna be responsible for my actions.

When we walked in, one of the servers immediately came up to Celt with a smile on her face. “Didn’t think I’d see you back here again what with Dusty going off to college and all.” She started leading us to a table.

Celt responded, “Yeah, Jean, my Dusty really did love this place. How long have ye been working here, lassie? I’ll bet ye know every kid in this town by name.”

She grinned up at him. “I’ll have been here seventeen years come December. And I do know most every kid in Griffinsford. It might be a small and insignificant claim to fame, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

We sat down, and Celt kept talking to Jean. “Do ye perchance know the Shepard family?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, we all know them. Let’s just say we flip a coin to see who has to serve them.”

“Troublemakers, are they?”

“The kids? No, they’re fine. It’s the parents that are a pain in the ass. All they do is argue and yell at the kids. They complain about the food, hardly ever leave a tip, and are just exhausting to deal with.” Glancing around, she added, “I probably shouldn’t talk about a customer that way. If my manager heard me, I’d be in serious trouble.”

Celt told her, “Yer taking to friends, lassie. We’re not gonna rat ye out, especially not for being honest.”

When her worried expression faded away and she took our order, Celt said, “Just one more thing if ye don’t mind.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I was wondering, when was the last time ye saw the Shepard family?”

“They come in every single Friday, rain or shine. The mother, Marlene, told me the kids get to come as a reward for not getting into trouble during the week and also because it gives her the day off from cooking.”

“Do you happen to remember if they were here on the twenty-second of last month? It was a Friday,” I asked.

A wary expression crossed her face. “What’s this about?”

“We’re just trying to figure out where Mark was on that day.”

She looked pensive for a moment and then admitted, “I didn’t work that day. But I can probably put you in contact with the server who covered my shift.”

“It would be great if you could do that,” I said.

She agreed, “Alright, I’ll bring you my colleague’s contact information shortly.” She started to turn around but stopped herself. “I don’t think you understand how dedicated they are to spending Fridays here. I’ve never known them to miss a day, except if they go out of state for vacation.”

“That’s great news, lassie. We just need to be one hundred percent sure,” Celt said with a friendly smile.

All her hesitation evaporated, and she nodded. “Alright, I’ll get you the other server’s contact information. And in case I forget to tell you, please let Gracie know that we’ve been missing her since Dusty went off to college. Tell her we’ve got a new dessert menu.”

Celt teased her, “I can’t do that, Jean. My Gracie will want to come here every night.”

The middle-aged server grinned, “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Storm spoke up, “Jean, what we’d really like is a copy of the security footage from that night. Do you think it’s still available?”

She shrugged, “I know it gets recorded over every month, but the footage from that night might still be there. I can pull the recording and let you check it while you wait for your order. But I’ve gotta have it right back, okay?”

Celt nodded, “Of course. We’ll have it back to ye within an hour.”

When she finally walked off to put our order in, I told them both, “That was a real clusterfuck. I can’t believe we are dangling carrots in front of desperate women to get intel on the break-in. How are we gonna check that disk?”

Storm frowned at me. “Quit bitching. My cousin has an ally willing to do us a solid. I don’t see the problem. As for the security footage, I’ve texted one of the prospects and asked them to bring my laptop here.”

And so we drank coffee and ate crappy pizza that the kids of this town coveted so much—and I managed to keep my clown phobia under control. It was all worth it because, in the end, we got the security footage and confirmed that Mark Shepard and his family were here on the date of the break in. They were also here last Friday when Lacey’s parents’ home got broken into as well. Which was good for him, but for me? Well, I was up shit creek without a paddle, now that I’d pretty much exhausted all the potential culprits.