Page 44 of So Insane

“Well, a barfight isn’t the same as a murder,” Michael said, “but I suppose it’s possible that he might have gone off the deep end when he heard the mine was uncovered.”

“Even if not,” Faith said, “odds are he knows something we can use.”

“Well,” Michael said, pulling his jacket on, “let’s go find out.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As it turned out, Linus Diller was not at the Tin Can. Nor was the Tin Can even remotely a nice place. Faith guessed that when you only had one option, you had to make the best of it.

Not that Faith cared one way or the other about the quality of the establishment. She and Micheal headed to the bar, Turk in between them, to see if they could get any more information on Diller before trying his cabin.

The bartender was a thickly built woman of around fifty with a lined face that looked like it would have been very pretty before years of alcohol abuse robbed it of its fullness and color. She looked dispassionately at the three of them and nodded at Turk. “Dog’s gonna have to wait outside. We don’t allow pets in here.”

“He’s not a pet, he’s a K9 unit,” Faith corrected, “and we are FBI Special Agents investigating the murders of Tyler Stone and Clara Montpelier.”

“Oh yeah,” the woman said, “my daughter works for the police department. She told me they found the Montpelier girl’s body.”

“They did,” Faith confirmed, “and we’re following up a lead on her killer.”

“Got it,” the bartender replied. “All the same, your dog’s gonna have to wait outside.”

Faith bristled, but before she could reply, Michael said, “My name is Special Agent Michael Prince. This is my partner, Special Agent Faith Bold. And our K9 unit goes where we go. Unless you want us calling our friends at ATF about a possible expired liquor license.”

Michael’s instincts turned out to be correct. The woman frowned sourly but relented. “All right. What do you want to know?”

“Linus Diller,” Faith said.

“What about him?”

She shrugged. “Tell me what he’s like?”

The bartender laughed. “Well, he’s a drunk, bitter middle-aged man whose wife left him for beating her fifteen years ago, seven years after his brother died in the mine collapse. That about covers everything.”

“I hear he causes a lot of trouble here.”

The bartender shrugged. “He picks fights sometimes. Not so much now that he’s getting older. To be honest, I just let them go outside to figure it out. It’s cheaper than hiring a bouncer.”

“How often is he here?”

She chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time he wasn’t here from open to close.” She cocked her head and said, “Actually, he’s been here a lot less often the past two weeks or so.”

Faith lifted an eyebrow. “Is that so?” she asked.

“Yeah,” the bartender said. “He’s only been here for an hour or two each night. He sips his drinks quickly, then heads home. Might have something to do with the mine being reopened. Linus is a mean son of a bitch, but he really loved his brother.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I think he loved his sister-in-law a little more than he loved his brother. Don’t know that for sure, of course, but it seemed to me he that George’s boy looked an awful lot more like Linus’s boy, if you know what I mean.”

“Thank you for the information,” Faith said. “We’ll be in touch if we have any further questions.”

“Sounds good,” the bartender replied. “Name’s Luann, by the way.”

Faith smiled drily. “Nice to meet you, Luann.”

On the way to Diller’s cabin, Faith checked her pistol’s load. Michael looked over from the driver’s seat and frowned. “You’re not planning to use that, are you?”

She cast him a sardonic look, and he said, “Considering your recent behavior, that’s not an unreasonable question.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not planning on using it, no, but since two people have pointed out that Diller is violent, I think it pays to be prepared.”

“Prepared, yes; anticipating, no.”

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