Page 41 of Death By Llama
Jimmy didn’t say anything, prodding the dirt with his toe again.Finally, he spoke in his rarely-used gravelly voice.
“One thing I know is Peanut could hold his liquor.”
I wasn’t sure about that after watching the spectacle I had seen yesterday.Peanut falling and rolling around on the ground didn’t exactly seem like someone holding their liquor.Jimmy did know him better though.But that testimony wasn’t exactly definitive proof that Peanut had been murdered either.
I was surprised when Jimmy continued.
“I’ve seen Peanut get pulled over by the staties and walk a straight line and recite the alphabet backwards without batting an eye—he would be three sheets to the wind.”
A certain pride filled Jimmy’s voice as he recalled the incident—or incidents, more likely.I was sure that drinking and driving wasn’t something a person should be proud of.But then again, I guess it was, in its own strange way, an impressive feat.In certain circles.Not my circles, but with the old timers of Friendship Harbor.
Jimmy surprised me by continuing.“Peanut only had one addiction he was never able to kick.”
I glanced at my cook.It sure sounded like his friend’s alcoholism was a pretty big addiction he’d never been able to kick, but I didn’t say anything since Jimmy was grieving—and I didn’t want to make any comment that would stop him from sharing.
Jimmy stringing this many words together at once was already something of a miracle in July.
“He could never give up the gambling.”
“He was a gambler?”
“A terrible gambler.Always lost way more than he won,” Jimmy said, nodding.“Owed money to just about everyone in town.”
I glanced at him again.Nowthatwas a reason why somebody might have killed him.
“He owed me plenty of money,” Jimmy added.Then he looked at me for the first time and cracked a smile that appeared as rusty as his voice.“Guess I’m never gonna see that money.”
Even though it seemed oddly inappropriate, we both smiled at each other.
“Can you think of anyone who might have been mad enough at him to want to hurt him?”I asked.
Jimmy pondered that.“Probably a couple folks.”
Well, that didn’t narrow things down.
“But if I had to pick one, it would be his brother, Cheddar.”
I tried not to laugh at the name.But seriously who gave these guys such ridiculous nicknames?At least I hoped they were nicknames.If Peanut and Cheddar was on their birth certificates, it could explain a lot about their life choices.
“Well, I best get back in and start cooking,” Jimmy said as if he’d talked about as much as he could.
I suddenly recalled the family waiting for their appetizer.I was going to have to comp their meal even if Dave had managed to serve them, but that was fine.Jimmy and I had never had a moment like this.And even more than getting some info on Peanut, I was touched that Jimmy trusted me enough to talk with me.
“Yeah.I think you’ve got some tickets waiting for you.”
He nodded and slowly stood up.Again, I was reminded that Jimmy was an old man.I really hoped he would be my cook for a long, long time, but now I found myself worrying about him.I had sort of seen him as almost immortal.Meant to be a part of Steamy’s as long as the place existed.
I watched as he ambled back into the kitchen, his domain, his haven.I remained seated at the picnic table, contemplating what he’d shared with me.
Maybe my gut had been off this whole time.Maybe Narcissist Nick was simply just an annoying, two-timing jerk, and Peanut’s brother, Cheddar, was involved in Peanut’s demise.Or it could truly have been an awful accident.
I considered possible theories for both as I enjoyed the sun on my skin and the bright colors of my grandmother’s wildflower garden.Cosmos, Shasta daisies, and black-eyed Susan’s swayed cheerfully in the warm summer breeze.
But the peaceful moment was over.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement.Just a flash, but I was sure it was a person.Going toward Jack’s stable.
ELEVEN
