Part 19 (2/2)
Disappointed but not surprised, I stood. I couldn't think of any argument for staying, so I let her usher me outside again. The door slammed behind me, and I stood on the porch trying to decide what to do next. I was halfway down the driveway when I heard a loud bang coming from the garage and realized that Dwayne must be hard at work out there.
Without giving myself a chance to think twice, I hurried down the driveway. The rolling door on the garage was closed, but the side door stood partway open, and another loud bang told me I'd been right. Dwayne was inside.
I knocked lightly on the door and stepped inside the garage at the same time. Large pieces of furniture lined the walls, blocked the windows, and threw the whole garage into shadow. I could see a single bare bulb hanging from the rafters at the back of the garage, but the place was so crammed full of furniture I wasn't sure how to get back there. ”Dwayne? Are you in here?”
Something metal clanged loudly, and an instant later Dwayne materialized out of the clutter. He held something in his hand, but I couldn't get a good look at it. I was too busy looking at the unwelcome scowl on his face. ”What in the h.e.l.l do you want?”
That was a good question. I wanted answers, but it seemed like a good idea to be cautious about how I went after them. I decided to act as if our encounter at the bank had never happened. ”I was just talking to your grandmother. She said you were out here, and I thought I'd come out and see what it is you do.”
He darted a rapid glance at something behind him. ”This isn't a good time. Come back later.”
That glance made my internal radar go off, and I'd have bet the farm he was hiding something back there. In fact, the whole setup felt funny to me. A row of carefully cut wooden decorations stretched away on the floor in front of me. They were beautifully crafted and intricate, but they were obviously new. In that instant, I understood that this wasn't an ordinary workshop, and Dwayne wasn't restoring old tables and chairs.
”Sure. That's cool,” I said, trying to look as if I meant it. ”I don't want to intrude. I'm just curious, that's all. Your grandmother can't say enough about the work you're doing.”
”Yeah? Well. Whatever.” Dwayne s.h.i.+fted his weight, and the part of him that had still been in shadow moved into the light. He was holding a ma.s.sive wrench in both hands, and the sight of it made my stomach turn over. ”What did you need to talk to Grandma about?”
I wasn't planning on provoking him, but I calculated my chances of outrunning him just in case. Considering his bulk and the way his pants hung low on his hips, I figured the odds were slightly in my favor. ”I didn't need to talk to her about anything. I brought her that box of caramels I've been promising her.”
”That so?” He c.o.c.ked a look at the box in my hands. ”Then why do you still have it?”
That was another good question. I held out the box impulsively. ”I brought this one for you.”
He didn't look convinced, but he took the box from me, and I considered that a step in the right direction. He put the wrench down on an unfinished two-drawer dresser with a deep scar running up the side and pawed through the first layer of caramels. I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn't in imminent danger of having my head broken. If he'd been on the verge of attacking, he'd still be holding the wrench.
The candy didn't relax him, though. He was definitely worried about me seeing something. Every glance into a corner, every s.h.i.+ft of his beady little eyes, only convinced me more.
”I think I may have misunderstood something you told me the other day,” I said as he shoved a piece of candy into his mouth. ”Didn't you say you hadn't seen the guy with the limp?”
Dwayne's eyes flicked away from the candy and landed on my face. ”That's right.”
”Was that before or after you guaranteed to pay the rent on his apartment if he couldn't?”
”Who said I did that?”
”I happened to run into his landlady today. She mentioned that you were with him when he rented the room from her.”
Dwayne swallowed the caramel and growled, ”b.i.t.c.h.”
”Are you saying you weren't with him?”
He glowered at me from beneath a thick line of sandy-colored eyebrow and shoved the box of candy at me. ”I'm not saying nothin'. Why don't you take your candy and get out?”
After he'd had his dirty fingers all over the box? Was he nuts? I shook my head and pressed the box back at him. ”Keep it. Throw it away. Whatever. Why did you lie about knowing Lou Hobbs?”
Dwayne jammed the lid on the box and tossed it onto a table. ”I don't have to answer your questions.”
I kept one eye on the wrench, just in case. ”No, but you will have to talk to the police when they get here.”
”You gonna rat me out?”
”They're going to find out you knew Hobbs sooner or later,” I said with a shrug. ”If you didn't kill him, why don't you just admit it?”
He s.n.a.t.c.hed the wrench again and whipped around to glare at me. ”Don't you dare try to pin that on me. I didn't touch that sonofab.i.t.c.h.”
I felt myself flinch, but I forced myself to hold my ground. He wasn't out of control yet, but he was trying to intimidate me. ”Can you prove that?”
”I don't have to. Not to you.”
”No, but you might have to prove it to the police. Where were you last Monday night, Dwayne?”
”Go to h.e.l.l.”
”Does that mean you don't have an alibi?”
”Not that it's any of your business, but I was right here, working.”
”What time?”
”All evening. Whatever time Lou Hobbs got himself whacked.” He stared at me, hard. ”I didn't kill him, so get the h.e.l.l out of here, and let me get back to work.”
That sounded like good advice, but I still had a couple of questions, and I might not get another chance to ask them. ”How did you know him?”
”That's none of your business.”
”Did you know him when he used to live here?”
In the blink of an eye, the anger left his face, and nervousness replaced it. ”Where did you hear that?”
”Around. Is that how you know him?”
”Lou Hobbs never lived here,” he said, leaning in so close I could smell something sour on his breath. ”You got that?”
An uncomfortable warning darted up my spine, and this time I did draw back. ”I don't believe you. I think Hobbs did live somewhere around here, and I think that's how you and Quentin and Kerry know him.”
Dwayne straightened sharply. ”You think you're so smart, don't you? You think you have it all figured out, but you don't know s.h.i.+t.”
The look in his eyes stopped me cold, and suddenly I understood the reason for his edginess. ”You know who killed him, don't you?”
”I don't know anything.”
”I think you do. I think you know exactly what happened, and I think you know why. So why haven't you gone to the police?”
<script>