“No. By the time I looked around Jeff had fainted and was laid out behind the bar. And there was this guy in a red shirt looking shell-shocked, standing in front of the bar.”
“Anyone else around?”
“No. It was closing time, and the place was just about empty. The people in the booth called 911, and I went to see if I could help Jeff.”
“And the guy in the red shirt?”
“It was like he was glued to the floor. His eyes were big, and his mouth was open, and he was hanging onto a barstool.”
“Was he drunk?”
“Let’s just say if he was the one who got shot he wouldn’t be feeling any pain. When Jeff came around, he said the guy in the red shirt shot him.” Melanie took one last drag on her cigarette, dropped it onto the blacktop, and ground it out with her shoe. “I gotta get back to work.”
“One last thing,” I said to her. “While all this is going down, where’s the gun if it’s not in anyone’s hand?”
“It was on the floor by Jeff.”
Lula and I walked back to my Escort, and I called Morelli.
“Do you know who has the Boris Belmen case?” I asked him. “Belmen is accused of shooting a bartender.”
“Jerry caught that one. Belmen put his bear up as a guarantee against his bond, right?”
“Right. I just spoke to the waitress on duty when the bartender got shot, and it doesn’t add up to me. The gun was found behind the bar, next to Belmen.”
“I’ll pass it on to Jerry.”
“Did you get a chance to look at the Beck video?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’ve got it up on my computer.”
“Anything jump out at you? Do you recognize the killer?”
“No and no, but I think the Frankenstein mask is a nice touch.”
“Does the guy in the video remind you of Ronald Buzick?” I asked Morelli.
There was total silence, and I imagined Morelli as looking incredulous in a horrified kind of way.
“He’s a butcher,” I told Morelli. “He’s strong. He could choke someone. And he’s used to being around dead meat.”
“The killer moved like a younger guy. Maybe an athlete. Ronald moves like an overweight guy with hemorrhoids. And Ronald’s got his arm in a cast. He fell off a hydraulic lift and broke his arm in two places.”
“Bummer. One other thing. I could have sworn I saw Jimmy Alpha just now.”
“Alpha is dead.”
“I know, but this man looked like him. And he made a sign that he saw me. Honest to goodness, I don’t think he liked me. He looked angry.”
“If someone else said that to me after the morning you’ve just had, I’d pass it off as hysteria, but you’re not prone to hysteria. Except maybe when you see a spider.”
“Do we have plans for tonight?”
“I’m meeting with Terry tonight. I want her to look at the video, and she’s not available until six o’clock.”
I disconnected and blew out a sigh. Terry. Probably nothing. Business.
“Well?” Lula asked.
“It’s not Ronald Buzick.”
“Too bad. I was listening, and I thought you had sound reasoning. I especially was impressed with the part about the dead meat.”
I took Stark to Olden and cut across town to Hamilton. “I’m going back to my apartment to check in with Connie,” I said to Lula. “She sent me a text message that we got a new FTA.”
TWENTY-FOUR
CONNIE WAS WORKING at my dining room table and Dave Brewer was cooking in my kitchen.
“How? What?” I said to Connie, pointing at Dave.
“He called to see if you were home, and we got to talking, and one thing led to another, and we decided to surprise you with dinner.”
“Guess Connie didn’t get the stalker memo,” Lula whispered to me.
“I’m running late,” Dave said. “I had an estimate in Ewing Township that took longer than planned. I have corn muffins baking in the oven, and I’m almost ready to put my stew together.”
“Well hell-
“It’s my special recipe,” Brewer said. “I put jalapenos, bacon, and a smidgeon of cheddar in my corn muffins.”
Lula sniffed in the direction of the oven. “Yum. That’s three of my favorite food groups.”
