Christy and I looked at one another. “Did he just say what I think he said?”
I nodded. “He sure did.”
We followed him out into the garage as he headed toward Christy’s car.
“Fred, what did you just say?” Christy asked.
He turned and looked at her and his face softened. “What do you mean? I said it wasn’t safe for you to drive your car with the tires that are on it now. The cheap tires aren’t a lot better, but they’d be better than what you’ve got.”
“That was kind of a flippant remark you made,” I said. “And it was an unkind remark.”
He narrowed his eyes at me for a second and then relaxed again. “What are you talking about? I shouldn’t make remarks about how unsafe her tires are? Aren’t you worried about your sister?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb,” I said. And as soon as I said it, I remembered the conversation I had just had with Ethan and my stomach dropped. I didn’t want to accuse him of murder, because if he wasn’t the killer, it would come back to haunt me.
I slipped my phone from my pocket and held it tight. Just in case.
He straightened up to his full height. “Did you have something to say to me, Mia?” Now his attitude sounded almost belligerent.
“No, I didn’t have anything to say to you.” I waited. Was he Logan’s killer? Or was it just an unfortunate slip of the tongue?
“Well I have something to say. Did you kill Logan? You did, didn’t you?” Christy asked.
Fred took a deep breath and he frowned. “You’re crazy.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not crazy. But you might be. You did it, didn’t you? You killed your son’s best friend.”
He took two steps toward us, clenching his fist. “Get out of my garage. Get your car and get out of here. I’m going to talk to Ethan about his nosy girlfriend and her sister coming in here and accusing me of something as ridiculous as murder.”
I groaned. Ethan was going to flip out.
“I need my keys,” Christy said carefully. “You need to give me my keys.”
“What if I don’t?” he said. He was gripping Christy’s keys so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “What if you and your car just disappear?”
I hit Ethan’s number on speed dial and put the phone on speaker.
“Fred, you need to give me my keys. I know you killed Logan,” Christy said again. “How could you do it? How could you kill someone as nice as Logan?”
“And what if I did? What are you going to do about it?” Fred said heading toward us now. I didn’t like the looks of this. “I’ll make you sorry you even had that thought.”
I held up my phone. “Ethan, Fred Tillman killed Logan. You need to get to the garage immediately.”
Chapter Twenty
I sat across from Ethan at an intimate table for two at the new restaurant that had opened in Pumpkin Hollow. They offered an extensive wine list along with a combination of French and American dishes. The scent of roast beef hung in the air, making my mouth water. I looked up at Ethan.
“How are things going?” He had arrested Fred at the garage after Christy and I had gotten him to admit he had killed Logan.
His eyes met mine, and he smiled. “Things are going fine. Logan’s killer is behind bars. What more could I ask for?”
His voice hitched on the last part. I nodded. “It’s all we can ask for, I guess. Why did he do it?” I was struggling with the fact that Fred had killed his son’s best friend. He had known Logan since he was a kid and had said he really cared for him. What would make him do something like that?
He took a sip of his water. “When he had that argument with Logan, he was afraid he would report him. He was deep in debt and he was afraid of losing his business.” He sighed and took another sip of his water.
It was my turn to sigh. “I thought Logan was satisfied when he reduced the charges for the work that was done on his car?”
He shrugged. “He was, as far as I can tell. He didn’t say much about it to me and if he had been angry about it, he would have mentioned it. Fred was paranoid about it though. He was gaining a reputation for cheating people and I think he was afraid it was getting all over town. Logan threatening to file a complaint against him was the tipping point.”
“So how did he cut the brake lines?” I asked, taking a sip of my water.
“Logan parked his car in his driveway and Fred slipped over to his house. He crawled beneath the car and cut into the line just enough so that the fluid would slowly drip out. Brake fluid won’t freeze, but it can get thick in the cold. It dripped very slowly until he started the car and drove a short distance. The engine would have heated the brake fluid and that made it leak out faster at that point.”
I stared at him. “How awful. Being a mechanic, Fred would have known it was going to do that.”
He nodded. “He sure would have.”
I sat back in my chair. “What a waste of life.”
“You can say that again.” He picked up the menu and looked it over. “The beef bourguignon looks good.”
I glanced at my menu. “I think I want the sirloin steak in the red wine and mushroom sauce.”
He raised one eyebrow as he looked at the steaks on the menu. “That does sound good. So
