Part 18 (1/2)
”That doesn't explain why you don't want to talk in front of your fiance.”
I shrugged. ”He'll tell me to stay out of it.”
He actually smiled. ”Sounds like good advice.”
”Do you want to know what I learned or not?”
He shrugged. ”I don't seem to have a choice. Go ahead.”
”Sven, at the Koffee Klatch, told me about a gambling ring here, behind the chili truck. When Gia was at my shop earlier today, she tried to buy out the store, which I thought was great. Until I ran her credit cards. Both were denied. She's obviously having some type of financial issues. And by now you know all about the affair between Fallon and Richard.”
”Tell me about this rumored gambling ring.”
I ignored his request. I was on a roll. ”Here's my working theory. If the Eriksens were doping Zippy, which we now know is likely, it's possible they could have been betting on him in order to make money. I admit, it's a stretch, but possible. What if what Fallon said was true, Richard planned to leave his wife for Fallon? MacAvoy said Fallon told the filmmaker Richard intended to retire Zippy after this event. If he took the dog, Gia would run out of money in a hurry.”
”That's a lot of what-ifs.” His eyes narrowed. ”Let's go back to the gambling ring. Did Sven tell you that the Eriksens were placing bets?”
My mouth disengaged long enough for me to realize that I may have gotten poor Sven into trouble. ”No.”
”Did you see either of them by the chili truck?”
I shook my head, nervous the conversation wasn't proceeding the way I'd imagined.
”Have you seen anyone placing a bet?”
I inhaled deeply, unsure how to answer his question. ”Not exactly,” I hedged.
”What does that mean?”
I pushed my lips together and chose my words carefully as to not mention Betty's new pastime. ”Sven asked me to put twenty dollars on Pickles. I went to the chili truck, but Rodney, the bookie, wasn't there.”
”You're admitting to placing an illegal bet?”
I stumbled over my words, ”No-I didn't think-I mean.” I took a breath and started over. ”I did not place a bet. But I did go to the truck to verify Sven's story.”
”When was that?”
”Around one o'clock. Maybe a little before that.”
He was silent for a full minute as he mulled over what I'd told him. ”Did Gia tell you she had money problems?”
”No, but in my retail experience, the only other time I've had to retain a customer's credit card, he was bankrupt and later arrested for fraud. We both know people have killed for a lot less than that.”
We stared at Gia for a minute. She glared back at us.
”What are the odds that she or Richard owns a gun?” I asked.
”Pretty d.a.m.n good. Richard bought a 9mm Beretta two years ago. He reported the firearm stolen last month.”
h.e.l.ls bells.
Chapter Twenty.
I WAS STILL REELING from the knowledge that Richard had owned a gun and had reported it missing. After my talk with Malone, I felt confident Gia would be uncovered as the killer, clearing Betty of all suspicion.
I returned to Grey, Betty, and Mr. TV with a spring in my step and a rea.s.sured smile on my face. They had waited exactly where I'd left them. I take that back. Not exactly as I'd left them.
Grey had drifted a few feet back from the others. His blue eyes sparked with amus.e.m.e.nt as he watched Betty hit on MacAvoy. She'd managed to link her arm with her favorite noon reporter, showing him the stains on her T-s.h.i.+rt and, I suspected, inadvertently her cleavage.
I felt a twinge of guilt at the pained expression on Mr. TV's face. Leaving Betty alone with two good-looking men had been a lack of forethought on my part. I rejoined the group with an apologetic glance at MacAvoy and shrugged. Betty was Betty.
He tilted his head toward the older woman glued to his side and mouthed, ”Help me.”
”Cookie, you're back. Me and Stud m.u.f.fin were about to grab a corn dog.” She batted her eyes at her captive.
Who would have thought I'd feel sorry for Mr. TV?
”Cut him loose. We'll grab some food for you in a minute.”
”Thank you.” MacAvoy flashed me a grateful smile. ”Does this mean I owe you one?” He tugged at his blazer sleeves, which had bunched around his elbows.
”I'd rather you not owe me anything.”
Grey rejoined the group as well, and within seconds, I was peppered with questions from all of them.
What did I need to talk to Malone about in private? (Grey) Did the police have any new suspects? (Mr. TV.) Were they close to an arrest? (Also Mr. TV) Did he have dinner plans? (Goes without saying-Betty) ”Malone and I didn't talk about his dinner plans. Nor did he name suspects or suggest there would be a pending arrest.” I studied Mr. TV with narrowed eyes. He grinned in return, enjoying my scrutiny.
He knew there had never been a restraining order. Did he know about Richard's gun? If he was as good of a reporter as he claimed, I had to believe he knew. The urge to ask him about the gun was powerful, but on the off chance he didn't know about it, I wasn't willing to violate Malone's confidence.
So instead of asking him about the gun, I asked, ”Who do you think killed Richard Eriksen?”
”Gee, now you want my opinion?”
I really wanted to erase that nettlesome smirk off his face. ”A moment of weakness. It won't happen again.”
”You want suspects other than Gia and Fallon?”
I sighed, already tired of his buildup. I vowed I would never ask for his opinion again. ”Obviously.”
He lobbed an accusatory looked in Betty's direction.
”Me?” She placed a bruised hand over her heart. ”I'm offended you consider me a suspect.”
”You threatened the victim with a gun.”
”I was protecting myself,” she corrected him.