Part 6 (1/2)
As Nick and Stella slid from their stools and zipped their jackets, Mills slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter and, with a tip of his hat, bade farewell to Alma before following the couple out of the shop.
The morning's heavy rain had dissipated, allowing the Buckleys to walk back to their car at a more leisurely pace than the one they had a.s.sumed walking away from it. Sheriff Mills, parked a few cars behind them on the street, kept pace. ”Looks like it might be clearing. Good thing about New England: if you don't like the weather, just wait-” Mills fell silent as he stared at the Buckleys' yellow vehicle. ”What is that?”
”Our car,” Stella answered.
”Her car,” Nick replied simultaneously.
”What are you going to do with it?”
Stella opened her eyes wide. If the sheriff couldn't figure out that a Smart car, although small, was still a functioning automobile, she and Nick might still be homeless come deer season. ”Um ... I don't know. Drive it?”
”Not in winter, you're not. You'd have a better chance of pus.h.i.+ng a mule a mile uphill than getting that thing in your driveway.”
”I'm planning on getting a truck,” Nick explained. ”A big truck. Might even be able to get one from the job.”
”Good thinking. Hey, since you folks don't have nothing but a camp stove, you might want to head down to the Windsor Bar and Grill later for burger night. Five bucks gets you a big, juicy burger with fries and the fixin's. It's a local hangout, so no leaf peepers or yellow plates, and they don't skimp on the meat either.”
”Yellow plates?”
”New Jersey folk.” Mills realized his error. ”Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”
”That's okay. I get it. Flatlanders aren't allowed.”
”Well, if they happen to know the sheriff, they are.”
”Sounds good. We might just have to check into that.”
”I'll see you there,” Mills said with a wave before heading off for the white-and-red squad car.
As Nick approached the car, the keyless entry system unlocked both doors, allowing himself and Stella to climb inside.
”So? What do you think?” she posed as soon as she had fastened the pa.s.senger-side seat belt.
”Five-dollar burgers? Hey, I'll give it a shot. Sounds like the sheriff wants to meet us there, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. He seems like a decent guy and-who knows?-maybe he'll have some good news for us by then.”
”I wasn't talking about burger night. I was referring to the conversation prior to that.”
”What, the car? I don't know. If we can get snow tires for this thing, I'm sure it'll be fine in the driveway. Our property's pretty flat. I still want to try and get a truck through work. It'll come in handy for hauling lumber and house stuff. Besides, it would be nice for each of us to have a vehicle during the day.”
Stella slapped her hand to her forehead and sighed noisily. ”All right, not the previous conversation but the previous previous conversation. The one about Weston.”
Nick raised his eyebrows. ”Oh yeah, that whole Alma speech about Weston being cold was kinda weird. I mean, she hired the guy to work on her house. How would she know he was cold, and why would she care?”
”Particularly when he wasn't even around to do the work.”
”That's right. Alma said yesterday that his guys performed all the labor. Apart from the sale, when did she have the chance to interact with him?”
”Uh-huh. Makes you wonder if he pumped more than her septic tank, doesn't it?”
”Pumped her septic tank? Jeez, and to think I kiss that mouth before I go to sleep each night.”
”Oh, you love it.”
Nick pulled a face and nodded slowly. ”Yeah, I kinda do.”
Stella glanced at the side-view mirror. ”Mills is still parked behind us. Maybe we should get going?”
Nick complied by putting the key into the ignition and turning it. The sound of the three-cylinder engine was barely audible. ”Why? Are you worried he'll give us a ticket for loitering?”
”No, I just don't want him to see us talking.”
”Couples talk all the time.”
”They do. But Mills's comment about Weston taking what he wanted didn't sit well with me either.”
”Yeah, that was kinda creepy.”
”Turn right at the next light,” Stella directed. ”Yeah, it was creepy, but what really bothers me is his insistence that Weston's death might have been the result of a hunting accident. Even though Mills asked Jake Brunelle for an alibi, it seemed somewhat forced, didn't it? Like he didn't actually believe he needed to ask.”
”Mills is probably being conservative. He's not going to make a big deal about it until he receives the coroner's report. Besides, the guy's been around a while. He must have seen other accidental shootings. Maybe this matches up to what he's seen before.”
”Okay. If this was an accident, where's Weston's truck?”
Nick made the designated turn and, having witnessed Mills driving past their turnoff, pulled the Smart car onto the shoulder of the road. ”It should have been at the house, where he was killed.”
”But it wasn't. Why not?”
”I don't know. Maybe someone drove off with it, or-”
”Or Weston was shot elsewhere, and his body was thrown down the well,” Stella stated.
”But either scenario would suggest that the shooter was covering his tracks.”
”Exactly,” said Stella. ”Which doesn't really fit with the stray bullet theory, now, does it?”
”Do you suspect the sheriff of something?”
”So far, nothing aside from loving Alma Deville.”
”The sheriff? And Alma?” Nick uttered in disbelief.
”I'm not saying they're an item. I don't think Alma even has an inkling of Sheriff Mills's feelings, let alone reciprocates them.”
”How can you be so sure he has feelings for her? He seems to treat her like anyone else.”
”Oh, come on. Did you see him suck in his gut yesterday? And that whole 'being the first to drink Alma's coffee' excuse was pretty lame. He goes there every morning, before anyone else arrives, to see her. The guy's got it bad.”