Date: Sat, 27 Sep 2014 12:36:29 -0700 From: Jerlar Subject: Murder in Porterville, Chapter 15 This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other Business, it takes resources to keep it running. I appreciate you, and I know Nifty appreciates your support! Mark Stevens Chapter Fifteen Britt walked inside the Fox Den at two o'clock Monday afternoon. He had called the bar earlier in the day and had been told that the bartender, Tracy Rogers, would report to work at that time. Tracy and Devon had attended high school together, and on one of their rare visits to the Fox Den Devon had introduced the bartender to Britt. Britt saw that Tracy was doing something behind the counter and made his way across the room to greet the man. "Hey, Tracy," he called. "I heard you were looking for me, Mr. Williams," the bartender greeted. "Please, Mr. Williams was my dad. Remember, I'm Britt...Mr. Williams' son." "What can I do for you, Britt?" "Tracy, I wanted to ask you something. I'm sure you serve lots of people during your shift here at the Fox Den. However, I'm interested in one night in particular." Tracy pulled a bottle of beer from the cooler. "Care for a cold brew? My treat," he added. It was on the tip of Britt's tongue to refuse the offer. Then changing his mind, he said, "Sure, why not? It's a little early, but hey, what the hell, right?" Tracy opened two bottles and sat one on the counter in front of Britt. He took a swig from his bottle and said, "Now, tell me what this is really about, Britt." "I want to jog your memory a little, Tracy. Do you recall one night a couple weeks ago when Devon and I were here? We were joined by a young fellow by the name of Justin Reynolds." "Hell, Britt, I don't have to think about that at all. I remember the night well. This Reynolds guy appeared to be wasted. Didn't he leave with you and Devon McKenzie?" "He did," Britt answered. "We didn't think he had any business driving. We took Justin to his motel and left him to crash on his bed." Tracy shook his head. "I can't understand what happened." "Why would you say that, Tracy?" Britt took another drink of beer. "Because the man only had one drink that night," Tracy replied. Britt's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" "I said the man only had one drink that night. The night he was with you and Devon." "But Justin had several drinks. Hell, he sat at our table, Tracy. I personally saw the man down a shitload of booze." "He did drink a lot that night," Tracy agreed. "It wasn't alcohol he drank, however." "What was it then?" Britt had a difficult time keeping the excitement out of his voice. "Apple juice," Tracy answered. "Apple juice? Are you fucking kidding me, Tracy?" "Apple juice with a shot of beer. That's what he had all night long. With the exception of his first drink. It was the real deal." "Why apple juice?" Tracy shrugged his shoulders. "He told me he was trying to break the habit. Said his father had died an alcoholic. He didn't want the same thing happening to him." Britt was thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, "Tell me something, Tracy. Would someone trying to kick an alcohol problem do what Justin did?" "I wouldn't think so," Tracy answered. "However, if someone wanted to appear drunk, that might be one way to make it look real." "Why is that?" Britt asked. He drained his bottle and placed it on the counter in front of him. "A shot of beer in six ounces of apple juice is not going to get anyone drunk. However, the smell of beer would be there for people to notice; to smell." "The fragrance of beer is one of a kind," Britt pointed out. "My point exactly." Tracy finished his bottle and threw it in the trash beside him. "Would you like another?" He picked up Britt's empty bottle and added to the trash next his own. Britt shook his head. "I'm good. So, you're thinking that for whatever reason Justin Reynolds wanted everyone to think he was drinking heavily that night? Is that correct?" "Appears that way to me," Tracy agreed. Britt stood to his feet and reached out his hand. "I appreciate your time, Tracy." He shook the man's hand. "I know you've written several books. Is this what you're doing? Gathering information for a new book?" "Most definitely, and you've been a great help, Tracy." "Hey, glad I could help you out. Let me know when the book is out on the market." "Will do." Britt headed for the door. "Bring Devon back some evening," he called after Britt. "I'll do that. Thanks again, Tracy." Once inside his car, Britt drove to the police station. He parked in front of the building and hurried inside. He greeted Sandra and stuck his head through Brian's office door. "May I come in?" he asked Brian. Brian placed the telephone back in its cradle. "I was just going to give you a call," he greeted. "Come in and have a seat." Britt took one of the chairs in front of Brian's desk. "I just left the Fox Den," he told the police officer. "I thought I smelled beer," Brian said waving his hand in front of his face. "Is it bad? I only had one." Britt stood to his feet. "I can come back," he assured Brian. "Hey, relax, man. I would have had one with you had I been off duty." Brian leaned forward in his chair. "So tell me, did you find out anything interesting? Evidently when you said you had to meet someone today it must have been Tracy Rogers, bartender at the Fox Den." "It was," Britt said with a nod. "What Tracy told me just now blows Justin Reynold's alibi all to hell, Brian. The man was not drunk the night Devon and I took him back to his motel room." "And you know this how?" "Tracy told me that Justin only had one alcohol drink that night. The others were apple juice. Apple juice with a shot of beer in each glass." Brian shuddered and shook his head. "Beer mixed with apple juice? That sounds absolutely revolting, disgusting, and any other word you might care to describe the situation." "Tracy Rogers swore that's what Justin did. I asked why the beer, and Tracy said it would serve two purposes. One, people around him would smell the beer and think he was drinking. And two, he could appear to be drunk, yet be in full control of himself and his actions." "Which is what he must have done," Brian agreed. He reached for the telephone on his desk. "I think it's time I called Justin in. He owes us some answers." "Wait a minute, Brian." Brian's hand paused over the telephone, not removing it from its cradle. "I think you do need to give Justin a call and ask him to come into your office. However, I think we need a plan first." "A plan? What sort of plan, Britt?" "I think we need to drop a little bait for Justin." Brian removed his hand from the telephone. "I'm listening." "I think you need to bring Justin in and ask him some general questions. Make him begin to feel really comfortable. Then tell him that my lawyer in Oklahoma City has been doing some research for you. As a favor to me. Tell him I called you earlier today and said that Glenn was faxing some papers to me this evening; papers that will lead us straight to the killer. If he asks who, tell him that Glenn refused to say. Tell him... Wait, this won't fly. "Scratch that, Brian. I've got a better idea." Britt rubbed his forehead. "Let's do this. Get Justin in here for questioning. I'll give you time to make him feel good about himself and become relaxed. Then I'll come to your office, apologize for interrupting your meeting, and tell you that Glenn is going to fax the papers that will lead us straight to the killer. You're going to ask me if I have a fax machine. I'll say that I do, and that it is located in my office on the second floor of the McKenzie home. I'll practically leave a road map directing him to my office." "I like that idea," Brian said. "I think I'll throw one other element of surprise in the bucket." "I'm listening," Britt said with a grin. "I'm going to call Joe Thomas and ask him to come in as well. However, I'm going to alert him to our plan." "I like that," Britt said. "Joe has been charged for Susan's murder already. Having him in the office will make Justin think you're trying to put the heat on Joe, and at the same time, make Justin feel like he's home free." Britt thought of something else. "I think I'm going to announce that we have plans for the evening, but that we'll return around nine o'clock. That should make Justin think he will have time to break into the house and look for the fax." "That's good." Brian reached for the telephone. "I'll call Joe first and explain the situation to him. Next I'll get hold of Justin and ask him to come see me." Britt sat in his seat and listened as Brian explained to Joe Thomas what was going on and asked him to come to his office in one hour. Next Brian gave Justin Reynolds a call. When he had the man on the line, he explained the reason for his call. He asked if Justin could drop by in an hour. He wanted to give the man an update on the Abbott case. Britt stood to his feet when Brian ended his second call. "Looks like everything's set in motion," he said. "I have a couple of errands to run." He looked at his watch. "You told Joe and Justin to be here at four o'clock. I'll make my entrance at four-fifteen. Will that work for you?" "Perfect," Brian said rubbing his hands. "I think we're about to nail that bastard." "I'm so ready for it to happen." Britt left the police station and walked out to his car. He actually had no place to go, no errand to run. He looked at his watch once more. He had thirty minutes to kill. He backed his car away from the curb and drove down the street. He suddenly found himself parked in front of the Beacon. He got out of his car and hurried inside the newspaper office. "Well, this is certainly a surprise," Alice greeted from behind her desk. "Hey, Alice. What's Sam up to?" "He just left for the post office. He should be back shortly," Alice told him. Sam Taylor, owner of the Beacon newspaper, chose that particular moment to come through the door. A half scowl, half frown appeared on his face when he discovered Britt standing in front of Alice's desk. "What are you up to, Britt Williams? Are you wanting to do some more snooping in my files?" the old man asked shaking his head. Britt smiled at the old newspaper man. He knew for a fact the old man's growl was much worse than his bite. "Actually I had a few moments to kill. I thought I'd drop by and check on you, Sam. How the hell have you been?" "Can't complain," Sam Taylor declared. "Besides, wouldn't do one bit of good to complain." "Always good to know you're in a good mood, Sam. I'm glad that some things never change," Britt added. "How's your detective work coming along?" Alice asked. "Things are starting to come around," Britt told her. "What sort of things?" Sam asked. Britt wagged his finger at the old man. "Now, Sam, you know better than that." Sam shook his head and started walking back to his print shop. "I'll be waiting for you to drop the bomb," he said. "You'll be the first to know, Sam," Britt called after him. "Are you really getting close to some answers, Britt?" Alice asked. "We are," Britt answered with a nod. "Speaking of which, something's most likely going to happen this evening." Britt looked around the room and then said, "I'll explain it when you get home. I'd rather not discuss it here. You know how old newspaper rooms have big ears," he finished with a grin. "Is Brian involved as well?" A worried look appeared on Alice's face. "He is." "Tell him to be careful, Britt." Britt studied the girl behind the newspaper desk. "You really think a lot of Brian Poteet, don't you, Alice?" Tears formed in her eyes. A nod was the only answer she gave. Britt leaned over the desk and touched the girl's cheek. "I'm glad, Alice," he said softly. Britt looked at his wrist watch. It was a few minutes after four. "I've got to run, Alice. Places to be, people to see. I'll see you at home." "Make Brian promise to be careful," she called after him. Britt returned to his car and drove the short distance to the police station. He parked out front once again and hurried inside the building. He looked at his watch once more. It was time to "make his entrance" inside Brian's office. He made his way silently through the big open room where people were busy working at their desks. When he reached Brian's office door, Britt stopped and listened to what Brian was saying. He heard his cue and stepped up to the door. He gave a knock on the wall and entered Brian's office. "Brian, I wanted to tell you------"Britt acted surprised to see the two men in the room with Brian. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had someone with you, Brian. I can come back later," he said and began backing out the door. "No, it's all right, Britt." Brian looked first at Justin Reynolds, then Joe Thomas. "I think we're done here fellows. Unless either of you have any questions." "I'm good," Justin answered. "So am I," Joe echoed. Before either of them could stand to their feet, Britt said, "Brian, I just received a call from Glenn Redding. My lawyer," he added for clarification. "He's been doing some work for me concerning the Abbott murder. He's found out some interesting information, and he's going to fax some papers to me later this evening." "You have a fax machine at home?" Brian's voice expressed surprise as he asked Britt the question. Britt gave a nod and said, "I do. It's in my office," he added. Brian appeared to be even more surprised. "I guess I didn't realize you had an office at home. I suppose you would, come to think of it. With your writing career," he added. "Have you not been up to my office, Brian?" Britt asked. "Not to my knowledge," the police officer answered. "It's on the second floor. At the top of the stairs," Britt added. Britt's cell took that particular moment to ring. He pulled it from his pocket. He saw that the caller was his mother. Just before stepping inside Brian's office, he had called his mom and ask her to call him at a certain time. Britt punched a button. "Hey, Mom, what's up?" "You tell me," his mother said. "It was your idea for me to call you," she reminded. "What's that? You're issuing a dinner invitation for the three of us?" "Whatever is the matter with you, Britt Williams? Have you lost your mind?" Britt looked at the clock on the wall behind Brian's desk. "You say you want us there at seven o'clock sharp? I think we can manage that. I'll let Devon and Alice in on the plans." "I wish you would let me in on them as well," his mother said. "I will do just that, Mom. Soon." Britt ended his telephone conversation. "Dinner plans?" Brian asked. "Mom says she wants to wow us with her cooking skills." "Did she invite me?" Brian asked, his eyes hopeful. "Sorry, guess not this time, old man." "Are you through with me?" Justin asked. "Damn, I forgot about the two of you," Brian said. "Sure, get on out of here." As Justin and Joe reached the doorway, Brian said, "I'm sorry, Britt, did you tell me what time you were expecting the fax from Glenn?" "He said it should be here by nine o'clock, if not sooner. We'll probably be at Mom's until about then anyway." "And you think it will tell us what we need to know?" Brian asked. "Glenn wouldn't say, but judging by the way he talked, he should have some definite proof this evening sometime." "I see." Brian watched as Justin began walking away. "I sure wish your mother had invited me to dinner," he said. "Another time, I'm sure." Britt watched at the two men exited from the front of the building. Turning to Brian he said, "You think Justin took the bait?" Brian shook his head firmly. "No doubt in my mind," he answered. "Good. I'm going to my car and give Mom a call. I think I owe her an explanation. I need to speak with her before she gets a big meal planned." "Probably a good idea," Brian agreed. "Then I'm going to call Alice and ask her to drop her car off at Mom's. I'll pick her up. That way, if Justin drives by Mom's place, he'll see one of our cars there. In fact, I think I'll run by Mom's myself, rather than giving her a call. I'm sure you're coming to the house this evening, correct?" "Damn straight. I'm not sure how I'll get there. I don't want a police car in the driveway." "There's plenty of room in the garage," Britt told him. "It's not connected to the house, so there shouldn't be any danger of Justin breaking in that way. He won't have any idea what cars are parked there." Britt left Brian's office and hurried outside to his car. He looked at his watch and saw that he needed to move fast if he was going to get word to Alice about her car. Britt slid behind the wheel and punched in Alice's cell number. While he waited for his call to go through, he thought about the evening before him. Had Justin Reynolds taken his conversation with Brian seriously? God, he hoped so.