Goody Goody Gunshots (29 page)

“Do you remember a kid who used to hang out with the rest of that group? Davey Mendoza?”

Marshall’s gaze flew to mine. “Sure. Yeah. I haven’t thought about him in years. What makes you ask about him?”

“Do you remember how he died?”

A pained grimace stretched across his face. “Car accident. He’d been drinking at a party and went off the road on a hairpin curve. Why? What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I don’t know that it does,” I said with a sigh. “I’m just trying to figure out something that connects Kerry, Dwayne, and Quentin to Lou Hobbs. They all knew him, but they all claim they didn’t. Why do you think that is?”

“With those people?” Marshall shrugged. “It could be anything.”

“Was Davey alone when he died?”

Marshall nodded. “I remember Ginger saying that some of the kids felt bad, because they didn’t insist on going with him, but they said he’d wanted to leave before the rest of them were ready. They said he was upset over some girl. Got into it a little bit with one of the other guys. You know how that goes.”

“Which other guy?”

“What? Oh. I think it was Kerry Hendrix.”

My heart beat a little faster. “Kerry and Davey fought?”

“I don’t think they actually fought. I think it was just a bit of chest thumping, and then Mendoza decided to take off.”

I put my chin in my hand and sighed again. “Okay. Fine. So we know Hobbs wasn’t Davey Mendoza. Is there anyone else from that crowd that he could have been? Maybe someone who hung mostly on the fringes?”

Marshall thought for what felt like forever.
“Maybe,”
he said at last. “There was a guy named Rusty Hogan who took off for New York about that time. He didn’t have a limp, though.”

“Anything could have happened between then and now,” I pointed out. “Is that the only reason you think it might be him?”

Marshall shook his head. “He was kind of a loner. Didn’t have a lot of family. I think he was living with an aunt and uncle, but they didn’t pay a lot of attention to what he did. My mom used to fuss about it. You know how moms are: Somebody ought to talk to his aunt. Somebody ought to take him under their wing.”

He smiled at the memory. “Anyway, I remember him because we were working at the same restaurant. He was a bus-boy there, and one day he just didn’t show up for work. I never saw him again. He was the kind of kid who could have disappeared, and nobody would have noticed.”

I nodded as I mulled over what he’d said. “I guess the next question is whether he was the kind of guy who came back the same way.”

Chapter 36

Between piles of snow and parked cars, the roads
were almost too narrow for the Jetta. I drove slowly, alternately telling myself I was doing the right thing and muttering at myself for being too stupid to live. I should just tell Jawarski what I knew and let him handle it tomorrow, but something—either curiosity or pure stubbornness—kept me from driving straight to the recreation center.

Before leaving home, I’d called Jawarski again and left a message telling him what I knew and what I planned to do. Hopefully, he’d check in soon. I couldn’t let myself think about what might happen if he didn’t.

Half a block from the Ivy Attic, I slid into a parking spot on the side of the road. Five minutes, I promised myself as I hiked through shin-deep snow along the unshoveled walk. I’d just ask Ginger a couple of questions and then be on my way.

I let myself into the antique shop, grateful for the warmth that rushed out to wrap itself around me. Ginger was sitting in an antique chair, a paperback novel open on her lap, the cat lounging on the back cushion.

She stood uncertainly when she noticed me, and I saw fear in her eyes before she pulled herself together and turned on her smile.

“Good grief, Abby. What are you doing out in this weather? Are you nuts?”

“I might be,” I said with a halfhearted smile. “If you’re driving home tonight, you might want to leave early. The roads are really slick.”

“Thanks.” Ginger set aside her book and shooed the cat away. “Well, now that you’ve come all this way, what can I do for you?”

I waved her back into her chair. “I’m not here to buy anything. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, if that’s all right.”

“I suppose it’s okay. What’s up?”

“I’d like you to tell me what you can about Davey Mendoza.”

Ginger’s head snapped up so quickly I almost felt the muscles pull in my neck. “That’s a blast from the past,” she said with a tight laugh. “What do you want to know about him?”

“I want to know about the night he died.”

“I don’t know anything about the night he died.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “I know you were at the same party that night, and I know that Davey left the party because he was upset over a girl. What I want to know is whether that girl was you.”

Ginger’s chin shot out stubbornly. “Of course not. What a question.”

“Then what does Kerry Hendrix know about you that makes you jump when he tells you to?”

“He doesn’t know anything.”

“What do you know about him? What proof would he and Quentin Ingersol be trying to get from you?”

Her eyes flew wide, and fear shot across her expression again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” I said. “I think somebody killed Lou Hobbs—or was it Rusty Hogan?—because he knew something they didn’t want anyone else to find out. If you know what it was, you could be in serious danger.”

At the mention of Rusty’s name, Ginger’s shoulders sagged and her head drooped.

“I’m right, aren’t I? Lou Hobbs
was
Rusty Hogan.”

She covered her face with both hands, and a sob racked her body. “Yes.”

I gave her a moment to pull herself together. Then I said, “You’re carrying his baby, aren’t you?”

She lifted her head, and I saw tears shimmering in her eyes. “Marshall told you.”

“Yeah.” I sat on a nearby ottoman and leaned closer. “Why did Davey Mendoza and Kerry Hendrix get into it the night of the party?”

Ginger shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “I went out with Davey a couple of times. I was supposed to be at the party with him.”

“But you went with Kerry?”

She nodded miserably.

“Why?”

“I was young and stupid, okay?” Ginger stood up so fast, the rocking chair banged into the wall behind her. “I thought Kerry Hendrix was
it
. The finest thing in pants. It wasn’t just me, either. All the girls thought he was the best thing that ever happened to Paradise. The guys, too. Dwayne and Quentin would have done almost anything for him.”

The cat jumped onto a table a few feet away, and a cup dropped to the floor, shattering on impact. I jumped halfway out of my skin. Ginger let out a tiny yelp as the cat bounded away to someplace safer. “What
did
they do for him?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

But she did. I could see the horrible knowledge and the pain of holding onto something she’d rather have never known reflected in her eyes. “What happened, Ginger? You can’t keep this a secret any longer. It could cost your life and the life of your baby.”

She walked a few feet away, rubbing her arms and staring out the window at the storm. “Davey found me and Kerry together. He freaked out. I mean,
completely
freaked out. He went after Kerry like a maniac.”

“They fought?”

She nodded slowly. “It was horrible. I thought Davey was going to kill Kerry. Some of the guys finally separated them and convinced Davey to take off.”

“And that was it?”

She turned back to face me. “No.”

“Kerry and the others followed him, didn’t they?”

She nodded again.

“If you knew they’d gone after him, why didn’t you let someone know?”

“I couldn’t! Kerry made me go with them. He wasn’t about to leave anyone behind.”

That didn’t surprise me.

“Kerry couldn’t stand losing, especially in front of witnesses.”

“Who else saw the fight?”

“Just the four of us.”

“You, Quentin, Dwayne, and—”

Ginger’s eyes locked on mine. “Rusty. He was in the car with Davey.”

That
did
surprise me. “He was in the car when it went off the road?”

“No. Davey had been drinking—a lot. He was in no condition to drive. Rusty knew he had to get Davey out of there, or Kerry would kill him once he got his breath again. I think we all knew what Kerry was capable of, even if we didn’t want to admit it.” She held her head in her hands and massaged her temples lightly. “We caught up with them at the bottom of that hill. Kerry was driving, and he forced their car off the road. They dragged Davey out of the car and—” She broke off, unable to say more, and for a few minutes the sound of her sobbing filled the shop.

I waited in silence for her to go on.

“They killed him,” she said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “They just kept hitting and hitting until he was finally gone. When they realized what they’d done, Quentin wanted to call the police, but Kerry told us all that we’d get the same treatment if we ever breathed a word to anybody.”

“And you believed him,” I said.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“If you’d gone to the authorities,” I said, “they could have protected you. They could have made sure that the kids responsible for Davey’s death went to prison, and the rest of you would have been protected.”

Ginger laughed bitterly. “For how long? Ten years? Fifteen? Kerry has a long memory. He never forgives, and he never forgets.”

There was no sense arguing. She’d made her decision a long time ago, and nothing could be changed now. “What about Rusty?”

“He took a beating, too, but not nearly as bad as Davey. They messed up his leg, but that was about it. The guys loaded Davey into the car and rigged it so that it would look like he’d had an accident, and they left Rusty there. I guess they thought he’d die, too, since he couldn’t walk.” She looked up at me and took a ragged breath. “I got the hell out of Paradise as soon as I could, and I vowed I’d never come back.”

“And yet, here you are. Why?”

“I ran into Rusty about six months ago. We were both in a bad place, and I think we felt a connection. Anyway, we hooked up. We needed money, bad, and he got this idea to blackmail the others. I didn’t realize what he was doing at first, but I put it together eventually. I mean, he never went to work, and he always had money.”

“He was getting it from Kerry, Quentin, and Dwayne?”

She nodded. “One of my old girlfiends tracked me down on the Internet, and I told her about Rusty. She must have told Kerry, because then
he
tracked me down and told me he needed me to come back and front this phony antiques scheme. We knew it was just a scam to get Rusty back here, and I didn’t want to come, but Rusty talked me into it. He said we could finally see justice done.”

An incredible sadness sat on my chest like a weight. “So you came back to Paradise.” My throat tightened at the irony.

She caught back a sob. “We were right to be afraid of Kerry all those years ago. He meant what he said. He killed Rusty. I know he did.”

I leaned forward eagerly. “Did you actually
see
Hendrix stab Rusty?”

She shook her head sadly. “No, but I know what he’s capable of, and I’m sure it was him. Dwayne and Quentin aren’t cold enough.”

I realized suddenly who Quentin had been arguing with that night at the recreation center. Dwayne might be a big lump of a guy, but he was probably the most squeamish of the lot and the most likely to try talking the others out of their plan.

There was just one question left, and I had to ask it. “What about that night out at Hammond Junction? Do you know what happened then?”

Ginger dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her blouse. “Rusty got a call from Dwayne asking him to stop by. Said there was something he wanted to discuss and made it sound like he was going to roll over on the others. Like an idiot, Rusty went out there and found all three of them waiting for him. It was an ambush. They would have killed him that night if you hadn’t come along when you did. You gave him a chance to get away.”

“But I know he was shot. I heard the gun go off and I saw him fall.”

“It was Rusty’s gun,” Ginger said, taking another swipe at her eyes. “He’d loaded it with blanks. He knew Kerry was dangerous, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted them to take him seriously. The guys jumped him, and Kerry wrestled the gun away. At some point, Rusty managed to get free. I think the others were glad, but Kerry chased him.”

“And ‘shot’ him with the blanks?”

Ginger nodded. “Rusty heard that first pop, and he knew what he had to do. They thought they’d killed him.”

But he’d risen from the dead for a second time. I guess the third time was the charm. This time, he wouldn’t be coming back.

Chapter 37

With fewer than ten minutes until practice started,
I left the Ivy Attic and hurried through the icy temperatures to my car. Thankfully, the recreation center was less than two miles away. Awful possibilities raced through my head as I drove. I hated thinking of any child in danger, but I was selfishly glad that Wyatt and Elizabeth had pulled Brody and Caleb from the team. At least I didn’t have to worry about them.

I reached the center in record time and parked as close to the door as I could. Praying silently, I half ran, half slid across the parking lot and along the icy sidewalk to the front door.

I moved quickly toward the gym, where the sounds of sneakers on the lacquered floor and bouncing balls took a weight off my mind. It sounded like business as usual.

Squaring my shoulders, I pulled open the gym door and stepped inside. Eight boys were lined up in front of the foul line practicing foul shots. Hendrix was bent over the ball cart picking up the lone remaining basketball on the bottom row.