Nantucket Counterfeit by Steven Axelrod

Author:Steven Axelrod [Axelrod, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781464210426
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, Inc.
Published: 2018-07-05T18:36:27+00:00

Chapter Ten

A Layer of Dust

The bitch I’d mentioned to Sebastian earlier met us at the door, in a barking, body-twisting seizure of delight. Daisy was a two-year-old springer spaniel, so pretty much par for the course. Sebastian grabbed her and manhandled her to the floor, rubbing her chest as she jack-knifed in circles on the linoleum. “Who’s my girl? Who’s my best girl?”

Daisy was no savant, but she knew the answer to that one.

Five minutes later we were all settled on the sagging couch in the messy living room, the humans with cups of coffee—the remains of the morning’s dark roast, microwaved—and the dog with the tattered stuffed rabbit, her constant companion. She shook it hard and occasionally let go, sending it flying. Then she’d bound off the couch, retrieve it, and start again.

Sebastian grinned with pride. “You see? She plays fetch all by herself. All I have to do is watch.”

We watched Daisy rip into her hapless friend for a few seconds, then I began. “I’m not sure how much you got from that phone call.”

He frowned in thought. “Let me see. Your family arrived at Ellis Island with a different name. The State Attorney General has political ambitions, and you have many murder suspects. Since at the end of the call you told me we need to talk, I must now assume I’m one of them.”

“Good listening. But there’s more. I have to clear you by this time tomorrow or he’s going to let those three stooges from ICE walk in here and take you away.”

He shook his head sadly. “I live on this island more than a decade. I raise my boy here, start a business, good business, I employ fourteen people, and yet…I could be gone tomorrow, like I was never here at all. Like a beer can on the beach. You see those clean-up crew people? Rich do-gooders?”

“They do some good. This place needs a lot of clean-up.”

“You see how they spike the cans with those poles they have? Jab, lift, into the trash bag and gone. That’s me. When do you feel like you really live here, man? Like you’re part of the life here?”

“I don’t know, Sebastian. I’m a washashore, too.”

“So not yet?”

“Not yet.”

We sat silently for a while, Daisy watching us for some sign that a new game was going to begin. Time to get practical. I edged forward on the couch. “Right now? I want to focus on keeping you here as long as I can. That means I need something for Dave Carmichael.”

“To prove I’m innocent. That’s not good for me, Padrone. I have lots of motive for this killing, and probably opportunity, too, if I set my mind to it. But no alibi.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know. How do people even remember exactly where they were at such-and-such a time? That seems suspicious to me right there.”

“It can be. But people aren’t usually that sneaky. Or that smart.”

“And I am both?”

“I know you’re smart.”

He sighed.

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