Page 28 of Merry Murder Season
Laughing, we crossed the street before the barricades keeping traffic off. “I don’t think so. But maybe something from the golden age of flappers and bootleggers. The building wasn’t built until 1922.”
“So that’s why you want to go with me to the library. To research South Cove history.” She glanced backward at the station. “Does Greg know?”
“I stopped by to chat with him, but he was in a meeting. Besides, I’m going to a college library. How much trouble can I even get in?” I ran up the porch stairs to the house. “I’m going to let Emma out for a few minutes and drop these books off. Do you want to change?”
“I need my laptop and backpack, and yes, I’ll change into jeans and a shirt that doesn’t smell like coffee and sugar. Although, it’s not sucha bad perfume.”
It took us less than ten minutes to get ready and on the road. Beth had the windows down and the soft rock station music blaring as she drove. I just leaned back and enjoyed the ride. As well as thought about the world when Chip’s building was built. It could have nothing to do with why he was killed, but I had to wonder, what were the killers looking for? Did the building hold its own secrets? If it was a well-known legend, I’d find something about it in the library. And if not, well, that was one more thing that didn’t explain Chip’s death.
An investigator I’d heard talking at one of Deek’s author events said it was all about clearing away the invalid answers and reasonings first. Then you could see what was left. Sometimes I think I cleared away too much stuff. Like taking Dom and Chris off the suspect list because I liked themboth as people.
Could I feel good about or like someone who had killed someone else? I guess that was a question I needed to ask myself. Maybe I was being fooled by Dom’s in-your-face honesty. But he’d been so engaging at Thanksgiving. Not just with me, butalso with Beth.
I looked over at her, wondering what she thought of the motorcycle club leader.
Beth turned down the music without looking at me. “I can feel you staring. What do you want to ask me? Did Evie tell you I did a bad job at the bookstore? If so, don’t feel like you have to let me continue. I cantake bad news.”
“You did an amazing job at the bookstore. Like Evie said, if you lived here, you’d be already on the full-time payroll. If you wanted a job, that is.” I glanced around to see where we were. I’d been daydreaming for a while and we were almost at the library. “Tell me what you thought of Dominic Reedy. When you met him at Thanksgiving dinner.”
Beth rolled up the windows and slowed the car a little. “He’s interesting. He’s focused on what you say. I can see why Lille is attracted to him. He’s intelligent. He truly listens, which sometimes is rare in a man. Clearly, he’s done his research in cults, which made him a good source of local gossip about C-scam—or New Hope. He said he had a relative who joined a cult a few years ago and went deep. And another friend who knew someone who joined New Hope and gave the leadership their life savings. When it blew up last year, the guy had to go live with his mom for a few months. He’s still convinced that the government killed Kane and blamed it on church leadership. But he has a job again and is learning to adjustto real life.”
“That must have been hard for him. Watching someone go so deep into the fantasy they built.” I paused, thinking about what Beth had shared. “Did he say anything more about the relative? I wonder how close they were and if it affected his decision to join the motorcycle club. You hear about people joining gangs for the family connection.”
“Funny, I was wondering about that too. I asked him if he thought being part of his motorcycle club was the same thing as joining a cult.” Beth took the exit to the college and slowed thecar even more.
“You didn’t.” I was shocked at Beth’s forwardness. I wasn’t sure I could haveasked him that.
“He blinked a couple of times, then he laughed.” Beth parked the car in a visitor spot. “He said he’d never thought of it that way, but to an outsider, he could see how it looked like a cult. Then he shrugged and said, ‘We have rules that others might not see as normal and we tend to be insular, but the club doesn’t expect you to turn over your life or all your money. We even stopped killing people who wanted to leave years ago.’”
“Oh, my goodness, he said that?” I could feel my pulsestart to race.
“He was kidding, sort of, but I do think he’s changed things in his group. He doesn’t want to be on the wrong side of the law anymore.” Beth paused before opening her car door. “He did say he lost several members for going soft. He didn’t want that life anymore. He just wanted to hang with his friends.”
“A reformed motorcycle gang. I guess it could happen. Greg still thinks they’re dangerous.” I climbed out of the car and wondered if there was anything on the club I’d findin the library.
“Jim was furious with me for even talking with him. That’s one of the reasons I stayed.” She locked the car and then looked at my shocked face. “Oh, not because I wanted to talk to Dom or had any interest in him. Lille made it very clear he was her property. I don’t want Jim telling me who I can talk with and when. He needs to learn I’m a person, not his possession.”
“I think Lille needs to learn that as well about Dom.” I adjusted my backpack. “Should we goplay student?”
“Dom has to deal with that problem, not me.” Beth joined me on the sidewalk. “See, this is why I love spending time with you. You get me.”
“Two of a kind.” I thought of Amanda’s comment. “The King boys have excellent taste in women.”
* * *
By the time we’d left the library and headed to dinner at a seafood restaurant in Bakerstown, I’d found nothing on Dom’s motorcycle club, but several articles about his crimes and convictions. They were all ten plus years old and the angry young man in the pictures looked nothing like the calm, centered Dom who I’d met. I’d made copies, but I still didn’t think Dom should be high or even on Greg’s suspect list.
The stories about Chip’s building were more interesting. There had been a death in the building much like the one that befell Chip, but it had been in 1970, just before he’d bought the building and opened his bar. The man had been tied to a chair, stabbed several times, then left to bleed out. Thebar was closed down due to the owner being arrested for drug charges. And this bartender wasn’t found for days. Until his girlfriend came looking.
The similarities were too close. They’d never found the killer in that murder. And the reason for the torture had never been released to the press. I wonder if Greg had the cold case files in his building. Would he let me research that, just in case solving it might help solve the new killing?
It was a long shot, but I could ask.
The bar and building had passed from owner to owner, with a few years of being held in trust for the state. No one had owned the building for long. And that fact, with the murder, had given the place a bit of notoriety. It was called the Bar of Death by afew newspapers.
I’d sent several articles to my email to read and had printed several others so I could read them later and highlight passages. With these articles and Josh’s books he’d loaned me, I might be able to create a timeline of any oddities for the building. Maybe they would paint a picture that would lead me to a better answer. For both of the victims who’d died in the building.
“Did you know that there are more than ten thousand cults in the US, and California isn’t the state with the most?” Beth asked as we drove to the restaurant. “I’m thinking of starting my book with a what you think you know about cults quiz, then I’ll blow up the stereotypes. For example, if you go by a ratio per number of people who live there, the District of Columbia has a higher percentage, over fifteen percent, than any other state.”
