Page 119 of Trouble Comes in Threes

He swallowed again. “I’m not sure I should be talkin’ to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to end up like Harvey.”

“Why did Harvey end up dead?” I pressed. “If you help find the person who did this, then they’ll be arrested, and you’ll be safe.”

He studied me for a long moment, some of his color returning to his face. “I don’t think you’re with the police.”

“I told you that I’m not, but I can take what I learn and hand it over anonymously, if you’d like.” When he didn’t respond, I said, “Have the police or sheriff’s department questioned you?”

His eyes grew wide. “No. Why would they?”

What in the world had Joe and his department been doing? “Because you two were friends, and you hung out on the weekends.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said we weren’t close friends. Sure, we hung out in the same place sometimes, but we weren’t buddies, you know?”

“Yeah. But you obviously know something if you’re this nervous talking to me.”

“I don’t know nothin’. I’m nervous because he and another guy who hung out at the garage were both murdered. That don’t happen every day, you know?”

“I know, which is why I’m trying to get to the bottom of it. What was the other guy’s name?”

“Noah something or other. We weren’t friends either.”

“How is it that all y’all were hanging out in a garage together on the weekends, but you weren’t friends?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t have to talk to you, and I sure as hell don’t need to be tellin’ you shit that could get me killed.”

Now I really needed to find out what he knew.

“I think you do want to talk to me,” I said dryly. “Or the sheriff might be comin’ by to ask you about a certain house fire.”

He leaned forward, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. A house fire? An insurance claim?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Except the way his entire body was shaking said differently.

“Okay then,” I said, pushing my chair back. “I’m sure you’ll have nothin’ to worry about when the sheriff hauls you in for questioning.”

I started to get up, but he called out a panicked “Wait!” while patting his hands toward me. “Wait,” he repeated, sounding defeated. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“So tell me more about the garage you hung out at.”

He took several breaths before he said, “It’s a bootleg bar. They don’t have a liquor license, so it’s kind of hush-hush. There’s all kinds of illegal things goin’ on. Gamblin’, drugs.” He swiped his hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. “You’re not gonna tell the sheriff, are you?”

Crap. More secrets from Joe. “No,” I said with a sigh. “As long as you tell me everything you know, I won’t have a reason to go to law enforcement. But if you know something that can help catch Harvey’s killer, then you really should talk to them.”

“If Derby finds out I blabbed, he might kill me next.”

“Derby Sloan?” I asked. “He’s all y’all’s drug dealer?”

He held up his hand and jutted his head back. “Now hold on there. I don’t do any hard stuff. Just some weed to help me chill. Customer service is the shit, and then I’m managing teenagers all day. Harvey and Noah and a few others were into the harder stuff.”

“And Derby supplied everyone with whatever they wanted?”

---