Firebreak: A Mystery (29 page)

“I’m so good. How are you?” She spoke in a singsong, her voice high and airy.

“I’m okay. I think I saw you the other night at Billy’s memorial service at the Hell-Bent. That was pretty horrible, wasn’t it?”

“It’s sooo horrible. I just feel so bad for Billy. He had sooo much talent and everything. It’s just so bad for everyone in the community.”

“It was nice though, everyone coming together like that to remember Billy.”

“Oh, yes, very nice. Hank did such a wonderful job.”

It crossed Josie’s mind that all Hank had done was sell alcohol to his customers, but she let it go. “What do you think about the rumors about Billy?”

Her eyebrows wrinkled up and she looked as if she didn’t understand.

“About him taking pills to commit suicide?”

A conflicted mix of emotions crossed Paula’s face and Josie suspected that Paula was trying to gauge which one would be most appropriate in her current predicament. She finally said, “I think it’s sooo sad.”

“Where do you think Billy got the pills?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe someone gave the pills to him?” Josie didn’t want to mention buying or selling drugs, or anything associated with breaking the law, for fear that Paula would clam up.

“I don’t know.” Her voice had become so high and airy it was hard to hear her.

“Okay. Tell me again. You said you liked Billy?”

“Yes! I loved Billy.”

“And you think it’s sad that he committed suicide?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then help me figure out who gave Billy the pills that he mixed with his whiskey. I won’t be mad. I’m not here to bother anyone. I just need to talk to that person.”

“Why?”

“I need to see what Billy said before he died. It’s important. It could save someone’s life.” Josie was grasping for something that would trigger Paula’s conscience. Behind the spacey dingbat image, Josie thought Paula had a conscience.

“Well, I don’t really know.”

Josie decided on a different route. “Look, Paula, I get where you’re coming from. I understand that you like to connect people with what they need. You’re like a nurse almost. You find out what someone needs, and then you go and find the medication that they need to help them. Is that about right?”

She beamed in recognition. “Yes! That’s exactly what I try to do. I’m like a shaman. I totally help people.”

“Okay. I see that. I see you’re trying to help people. Can you just tell me about the night Billy died? I need to know who you helped out that night?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Maybe there were some people at the Hell-Bent that needed some help.”

Paula shook her head no, but said nothing.

“Maybe even Billy did and you met him at the park. I’m not judging you. I just need to know who got a baggie of Oxy and Ambien that night. You tell me that, and I promise, you won’t get in trouble for it.” Josie watched her thinking for quite some time.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. I only want to help people.”

Josie could see she was ready to break. “You could save someone’s life by telling me what you know.”

Her eyes widened, the pressure weighing on her.

“Come on, Paula. You say you want to help people. This is your chance.”

“The only person who asked for an Oxy mix that night was Hank. He said he was worn out from the fire and the evacuation. He just needed a combo pack to sleep. I was surprised because he’d never asked before.”

Josie smiled and patted Paula on the back. “You did the right thing,” she said. She yelled toward the back of the store, where a curtain led to a storage room. “See you later, Tiny.”

Josie walked out of the Gun Club smiling. These were the breakthroughs that made her happiest as a cop, not when something fell into her lap, but when dogged police work paid off. She glanced at her watch. It was 7:00, and her stomach was growling, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. She had a package of cheese crackers and one of Otto’s Cokes in the fridge at the department. She had driven by the trauma center on her way into town and seen the night nurse’s “crappy” minivan parked outside. It would be a good time to catch her.

Josie first went to the PD and logged into her computer. She ate cheese crackers while she searched the Internet for an image of a 2015 Ford F-350 diesel, platinum package with a lift. Otto had scoped out the truck and provided her the specifics. He figured the package had to have been close to $60,000. There might be a lot of trucks driving around Artemis, but very few of them had premium lift packages that matched Hank’s truck. He made a boatload of money at the Hell-Bent. He didn’t spend his cash on a home or travel or a wife, so why not a truck? Josie printed a photo of a truck that matched Hank’s. The photo showed the truck at the same angle that the nurse would have seen it the night Billy died.

Josie drove over to the trauma center and found Glenda Crosley bent over paperwork at the nurse’s station. There was no receptionist. An elderly couple sat in the waiting room, holding hands, watching the TV on the wall in silence.

Glenda looked up and smiled when Josie approached.

“It’s a little more normal in here compared to last time you stopped in.”

“You look a bit less frazzled,” Josie said, smiling. “I have one quick question for you.”

“Sure.”

Josie took the color photo she had printed out of a manila folder and handed it to Glenda. She started smiling and nodding as Josie talked. “Can you tell me if that’s the truck you saw the night Billy died?”

“That’s it.” Glenda pointed to the wheels. “I remember because it was lifted. I hate those trucks. I think they look ridiculous. I told my husband he’d have to buy me a step stool to get up into the thing.” She handed the photo back. “I can’t imagine there’s too many of those trucks around. The gas would kill you.”

TWENTY-TWO

Josie pulled into her parking place at the police department on Monday morning and felt her cell phone buzz. She opened her phone and found a text from Nick. It read:
Staying in Marfa again tomorrow night. How about dinner? You cook. I’ll clean up. Or the other way around
.

Josie grinned and texted back:
Other way around. See you at 6
. It was a great feeling, the flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Nick again. She thought about Dillon, and she hoped he would find that same sensation of excitement and anticipation again too. She sighed at her own realization. She was making progress.

Once in the office, Josie filled Otto in on her visit to the trauma center the night before and her conversation with Paula.

“You realize, even if Hank did help Billy commit suicide, we’re still a long way from Ferris,” Otto said.

“Those two deaths have to be connected.”

“Yeah, well, we’re missing the connection,” he said. “How do you want to do this?”

“Let’s shake Hank up. Confront him with lying. Tell him we’ve got him cold on the pills and we’ve confirmed he was at the scene of Billy’s death. Make it clear we think he’s connected to Ferris’s death, and see what shakes out. Let’s question him at the jail in the interrogation room rather than here. You take the observation room. I’ll be the hard-ass.”

He nodded.

“And let’s call Brenda and ask if she’ll come by for follow-up. I’d like to have them both there to clarify their stories.”

Otto sat down at his desk and picked up his phone. “I’ll call the jail to find out when they have a room open.”

*   *   *

At 3:00 p.m., Turner bustled into the jail with Brenda, already irritated that she’d had to cancel a meeting that afternoon to be there. Brenda looked stressed, as if she had no idea what might be coming next. Otto set them up in the conference room and assured them that he and Josie would meet with them as soon as possible.

“This isn’t a doctor’s office,” Turner said. “You’ve got fifteen minutes before I walk.”

Hank arrived a few minutes later wearing blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a Western shirt that stretched tight over his beer belly. His hair looked unkempt and his bloodshot eyes gave the appearance that he hadn’t slept well. Josie made small talk as they walked down the hallway and into the interrogation room. He sat down in the chair across from Josie and asked if he needed an attorney.

“You’re the only one that can answer that. I’m not filing charges, but I have some tough questions. If you think you need an attorney, go ahead and make the call.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“Then why did you lie to Brenda?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t lie to anybody.” Hank looked offended at the question.

“Why did you call and check on Billy the morning after his suicide when you knew he was dead?”

Hank clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles flexing, and he said nothing.

“You did it because you were there when he died. You knew you’d helped kill Billy Nix and you felt guilty.”

“That’s not true.”

“We know you bought a baggie full of Oxy and Ambien. And that you delivered them to Billy. Your truck has been positively identified at the scene,” Josie said.

Hank stared at her in silence.

“How could you call yourself Billy’s friend, and then help him commit suicide?”

“Billy did this to himself.”

“Tell me the truth, Hank.”

Hank stared at his hand as he rubbed the edge of the table with his thumbnail.

“You know what happened to Ferris Sinclair, don’t you?”

Hank said nothing.

“Billy asked you to buy him the pills and meet him at the park to end his life. Why?”

Hank continued staring down at the table, refusing to make eye contact.

After several minutes of silence, Otto entered the room carrying two Styrofoam cups of coffee and set them on the table.

“Can I get you some cream or sugar?” Otto asked.

Hank held a hand up to indicate he didn’t want either, and Otto sat down at the table with them. Sometimes a brief interruption was all that was needed to change the thought process of the person being interrogated.

“Tell us what happened, Hank. Help us put this to rest. Too many people are suffering.” Her voice was quiet. They sat for a long while, waiting him out.

He finally scooted his chair back and crossed his arms over his chest. He sighed heavily and said, “Ferris was at their house. Billy and Brenda’s. He’d been staying there off and on for a while. They’d fought over him staying there. Brenda suspected Ferris and Billy were screwing around. Billy denied it, but not very convincingly. Brenda finally gave Billy an ultimatum. He had to choose: Brenda or Ferris.”

“And he chose his wife,” Josie said.

Hank nodded. “Brenda knew Billy didn’t care about Ferris, not really. Ferris was a distraction. Somebody to stroke his ego, to make him feel like he was something special.”

“How did Billy take the ultimatum?”

“Billy knew Brenda was serious. It was the day of the evacuation and Ferris was at their house. Billy sent Brenda to town so he could end things. He said he needed to explain things to Ferris. To end it for good. Brenda left with the car packed, ready to leave for Austin as soon as Billy was done. He said he needed an hour. He planned to give Ferris their old truck to drive back to Presidio for the evacuation.”

“Where did Brenda go?”

“Billy said she drove to town and went to the bank and stopped at the Hot Tamale for a drink before she went back home and picked him up.”

“And when she left the house, what happened?” Josie asked.

Hank frowned. “They got into a fight. Billy told Ferris he couldn’t stay at the house anymore. He said they were through, that Ferris needed to stop coming to hear the band play. Billy said Ferris started yelling at him, calling him names and throwing punches. Ferris told Billy he was going to tell everyone that he was gay.” Hank stopped, as if the rest of the story was too hard.

“What happened?” Josie asked.

Hank absently rubbed a hand across his forehead. Josie could smell the sweat coming from his body. “Ferris showed Billy a video off his phone that he had taken of the two of them together at Ferris’s house. Ferris threatened to send the video to Gennett Records, to the band members, and to Brenda.”

Josie stopped him. “A compromising video?”

Hank nodded but didn’t elaborate. “Ferris said he was going to the Hell-Bent to tell everyone what a fake Billy was. They were in the bedroom, fighting at that point. Ferris walked down the hallway to leave, and Billy grabbed a stun gun Brenda kept in the bedroom. He stunned Ferris with it, and then—” Hank stared at Josie, as if he couldn’t continue.

“Tell us what happened,” said Josie.

Hank took a moment and then struggled through the explanation as if the thought of it made him ill. “Billy said he sat on Ferris’s chest and pinned his arms down. Then he covered his mouth and nose and suffocated him.”

“You’re telling me that Billy admitted to you that he killed Ferris?” Josie asked.

“You have to understand that Ferris had ruined Billy’s life. He never wanted any of this to happen.”

Josie and Otto both sat quietly, waiting for him to continue.

Hank sighed and finally went on. “About three months ago Ferris tested positive for HIV. Billy got totally unstrung. He got himself tested and was negative, but they told him he needed to test again, that he could still have it. In his own mind, he was convinced he had HIV and that he’d passed it on to Brenda. He claimed he was showing signs. And, for a country star with a reputation like Billy’s? The band name is Billy and the Outlaws. You know what I’m saying?”

“You’re saying Billy couldn’t be an outlaw country singer with HIV.”

“That’s exactly right. Keep in mind, Billy hadn’t made it big yet. It’d be one thing if he was Magic Johnson making an announcement, but he didn’t even have a signed contract yet.”

“Nobody’s going to sign an unknown country singer if the word gets out he has HIV,” Josie said.

Hank nodded. “Billy knew Brenda would be devastated. Not only would Brenda’s dream of making it in Nashville be destroyed, but her fears about Billy having an affair with Ferris would take on a whole new meaning. He was just coming apart at the seams.”