I nodded. I did know. “Go on.”
“He’d complain about the coffee. It was never how he ordered it.” She snorted. “Liar. He liked to watch us remake it. Like he was on a power trip or something.”
Which fit what I knew of August Nixon to a tee. “But how did he get you fired?”
“One day I refused to serve him. I’d just had it, you know? Sent one of the guys to do it. Pissed him off. He went to my manager. Told him that I was coming on to him rather than the other way around. As if!” She sneered in disgust.
“I take it your manager bought the lie.”
“Hook, line, and sinker.” She gave an exasperated shake of her head. “Men.” Her voice dripped with disgust. I wasn’t sure all men deserved her disdain, but August Nixon surely did. “Anyway, my jerk of a boss fired me over it, even though The Louse was totally lying. Worse, he blackballed me around town. Nobody will hire me. Had to move back in here with my mom.” She frowned at the place. “I hate it here. I’m thinking of moving to Portland. Or Seattle. Maybe I can get a job there.”
I felt badly for her, but I needed more information. “So, I hate to have to ask, but where were you during the time of the murder.”
Her eyes widened. “Omigosh. This is just like NCIS. I love that show!”
“Um, yeah, sure. Alibi?”
“When was he killed?” I told her, and she furrowed her brow, tapping her lower lip. The dog pushed against her legs, and she shoved him back. “Down, Deeks. Let’s see. I was here. At home. As usual.”
“Anyone able to vouch for that?”
“Well, mom was working and Deeks doesn’t talk, so not really. But I was online like all night playing Fairy World, so there’s that.”
“Fairy World?”
“Yeah. You know, one of those online multiplayer games. Only with fairies instead of guys with guns.”
“Sounds fun.” It was also a darn good alibi. There were probably hundreds of people who could confirm it, never mind there’d be a log on her computer if someone had the savvy to find it, which I was pretty sure the police could do. “Well, obviously you’re in the clear. Thanks for your time, and good luck on the job hunt.”
“Thanks.”
As I turned to walk down the front steps, Deeks renewed his fevered barking. Delphi slammed the door and commenced shouting at the beast.
I was no further to solving this thing than I’d been this morning. Unless you counted the discovery that Mrs. Nixon was having an affair, but without knowing who the mysterious man was, it wasn’t much help.
I sighed and climbed back into the car. Tomorrow I planned to drive into Portland for Lucas’s reading. Maybe he would have some ideas.
Chapter 10A Conundrum
“THAT DOES SOUND LIKE a conundrum,” Lucas admitted after I told him about Mary Nixon and her secret lover. It was Sunday afternoon, and we were sitting in The Roxy enjoying blueberry pancakes while I caught him up on all the excitement, or lack thereof.
The Roxy was the most amazing divey sort of place on Stark Street, across from Powell’s Books. On the back wall was a life-sized crucifix. In the front window was a giant high-heeled shoe in leopard print. The menu items were named after famous celebrities like Dolly Parton and Steve Buscemi, and the place was frequented by drag queens. It was so totally Portland.
“It is a conundrum.” I toyed with my food, oddly not as hungry as I should have been. This whole case was giving me stress. “I’m not sure how to go about confronting her.”
“What would happen if you blurted it out? Hey, I know you’re having an affair.”
I mulled it over. “It might shock a response out of her,” I said doubtfully. “But she’s the most restrained person I’ve ever met. I mean, you met her. Nothing seems to shake her. I’m afraid she’d just turn up her nose and call the cops.”
“Hmm...” He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. He was looking particularly delicious in a cornflower-blue, button-down shirt that matched his eyes. “I suppose you could be more subtle about it. Work your way around the issue.”
“Have you met me?”
He laughed. “Good point. What about a following her?”
“A stakeout?”
“Sure. The police do it, right? Maybe you can figure out who she’s seeing that way.”
It was a good idea, although the idea of parking in front of her house and sitting there for hours on end didn’t thrill me.
“Too bad you don’t know some good old-fashioned town gossips,” Lucas mused, dumping cream from the baby bottle into his coffee. Yes, they served coffee creamer in baby bottles at The Roxy. All part of the charm.
My eyes widened. “But I do. Agatha, from my bunco group, is the biggest gossip you ever met. If she doesn’t know something, it’s not worth knowing.”
“There you go then. You’ve got bunco tomorrow night, right?”
“Right.” How did he remember that? I barely remembered half the time.
“Perfect. You can pump Agatha for information. I’m certain she’ll be happy to help.”
Thrilled was more like it. Nobody loved “sharing” information more than Agatha. Suddenly I wanted to jump up and drive back to Astoria, bang on Agatha’s door. Instead, I smiled at Lucas. Some things are more important. Like supporting your sort-of-kind-of-boyfriend-person.
Yes, I had to find a few more ways to skin the proverbial cat, but it could wait. For now.
WHEN I FIRST MOVED to Astoria from the “big city” of Portland, I’d found myself at loose ends. With no social life to speak of, I desperately needed an outlet besides my writing. I’d joined a local yoga class. That had lasted all of five minutes, but I’d met Agatha and she’d invited me to join her bunco group. That was where I met Cheryl. The rest, as they say, was history.
The women in the bunco group greeted me cheerfully as I shoved my five
