Page 74 of Fatal Witness

“It didn’t make any difference to his bosses that there wasn’t any evidence pointing to him.”

That made it even stranger that Mr. Peterson would hire Toby. “I would thinkKylewouldn’t want him around the store.”

“My grandson feels sorry for Toby.”

Or Toby was holding something over Kyle’s head. “How long has he worked for you?”

“I wouldn’t rightly call it working for me—more like a day laborer. Toby drinks too much to hold down a nine-to-five job. Reason his wife left him.”

“Because he drank too much.”

He pointed his pipe at Mark. “You already seem to know a lot about him.”

Mark shrugged. “So, he’s been doing odd jobs for you since he got out of prison?”

“He has, but why are you so interested in Toby? He served his time.”

“We’re reopening the investigation into the murder of Neva and Bobby Bennett, and I think Toby knows something about it.”

“He won’t tell you anything. First question you ask him, he’ll clam up tighter’n bark on a tree.”

“I have to try.”

Mr. Peterson glanced toward the back of the store, then leaned toward Mark. “Tell you what. Toby and I have talked about what happened over the years, mostly after he’d been drinking. He’s talked about how he got involved in the ring and what happened that night. Pretty sure I already know more than you’ll get out of him. So ask me whatever you planned to question him about, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Okay, then.” Mark took out a pad and pen. He still planned to question Toby, but if he talked to him at all, Mark would at least have something to compare his answers to. “Do you know if Toby left Pearl Springs in the past week?”

“I can’t answer that other than I haven’t seen him all week until today. But that’s not unusual.”

Mark noted that. “How did Toby get involved with the burglary ring?”

“Bobby Bennett recruited him. He needed someone to be a lookout in case an alarm went off or the police showed up. Someone who didn’t ask questions and would do what Bobby said.”

“Toby fit the bill.”

“Yeah. And he’s loyal—never told the police anything, even after they pressured him.”

“Do you think Toby knows the ringleader’s identity?”

Mr. Peterson hesitated. “I do, and I’ve asked him who it was more than once, thinking if I could discover who he is, I could clear Kyle’s name. He always just shakes his head and clams up. One thing he did say—Kyle’s name was never mentioned around Toby. When he gave the police that information, they didn’t believe him.”

“Did he see the diamonds that night?”

“According to him, he never saw the loot from any of thestores. His job was to watch and warn them if a cop drove by, or if the owner or manager showed up. Bobby paid in cash, except for that last job.”

“Why do you think Toby wouldn’t give the names of the other people involved in the ring?”

A sad smile creased Mr. Peterson’s face. “Because being loyal is written into Toby Mitchell’s DNA.” He tilted his head. “You asked why I hired Toby. Have you wondered why Toby works for me or why he would confide in me?” Before Mark could answer, the older man continued. “It’s because I befriended him way before all this happened—back when he was being teased in high school for his mama being on drugs and for being in foster care after she died. I gave him a job and helped him buy decent school clothes.”

Toby Mitchell wasn’t the first kid Mr. Peterson had helped out. “Like you did a lot of other boys.”

“Cheap labor,” he said.

But Mark knew better.

The grocer crossed his arms over his belly. “Not many people have ever bothered to look beyond the surly, given-to-drink person with a prison record that he’s become—that’s all people see when they look at Toby. They’re missing a good friend who is loyal and will do anything to protect those he cares about.”

Mark tapped his pencil. Judging by Mr. Peterson’s closed-off stance, he’d gotten all he was going to get from the grocer. “Thanks for your help.”

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