He gave her the short version. At the mention of Westy’s Tavern, she shook her head.
“Oh no. That stupid — Roy’s not a fighter. He was drunk but I never thought he’d have the guts to...” Her voice trailed off.
“Did he have a reason to shoot Dean Jackman?”
She looked at her hands. “No. Dean and I are friends. Just friends, really. Roy got this idea something was going on, and he just wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“Roy own a handgun?”
She gave a bitter laugh, waved her hand at the glass-fronted gun case next to the TV. “He has two pistols. And some rifles.” She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “He likes guns. No paycheck for six months, no job, but he’d rather starve than sell those guns. We fought about it. You know he paid a thousand dollars for one of those pistols? That was right before he got laid off at the mill.”
Ennis checked the gun case, found it unlocked. A couple of .22s, a Winchester .30–30, and a scoped bolt-action Remington. The two leather holsters were both empty.
“When he left here, did he say he was going after Dean Jackman?”
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “He didn’t say that. He said other things, horrible things. In front of the kids.”
“Did you let Dean know?”
She nodded. “I called him on his cell phone, told him Roy was on the warpath...”
There was a phone beside the sofa; Ennis saw the number was the same one he had noticed on Jackman’s cell phone.
“What time was that?”
“I don’t know, around ten. He was just pulling into Westy’s when I called. We had talked about meeting there. He wanted to talk about a listing I’m working on. That’s all. Anyway, when Roy stormed out of here he took my keys, so I called Dean to let him know.”
“A business meeting? Westy’s on karaoke night?”
Her mouth tightened, the lines a bit more visible now.
“We both like music, okay? Where else were we going to meet? They don’t have a Starbucks in this town.”
“You called at ten, exactly?”
She stabbed out her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. “Maybe a little after, I don’t remember. He said not to worry, he was going to... he was going to come out here. Then I called back to tell him not to and there was no answer.”
Ennis decided not to mention that Jackman was staring at the bar ceiling by then, but she caught his look. Her hands went to her face. “Oh God.”
“What time did Roy leave here?”
She rubbed her face. “I don’t know; I got home at seven or so and he was already into the whiskey. He was supposed to go hunting with his brothers for the week, but for some reason he didn’t. He was so drunk; I’ve never seen him like that. The kids were here and he just started in on me, accusing me of things. Just wouldn’t quit. I tried to take the kids and leave, but he grabbed my keys and wouldn’t give them back. He must have left about nine.”
Her voice cracked and she stabbed out the cigarette.
“I hated for the kids to see that. He was shouting, swearing. Poor little Andrea... and Richie wouldn’t help, wouldn’t do anything. I screamed at him to call the cops but he wouldn’t. He’s passive, like his dad. When Roy drove off he went into his room and hasn’t been out. He won’t talk about it.”
Alana picked up the remote control on the coffee table, touched the On button, then touched it off again. She turned it over in her hands, shaking her head. “First time in our marriage Roy decides to do something, be proactive, he kills a good man. A fine, funny man. Dean laughed at everything. He was just so positive. So cheerful.”
She sobbed and turned away, fumbling for a Kleenex in the coffee-table clutter. Proactive, Ennis thought. Positive. The sort of words they’d drum into you in a real-estate marketing seminar.
“Roy’s never been there as a father,” Alana said. “He buys them new bikes we can’t afford, takes them fishing once in a while, he thinks that’s all he has to do.”
Her eyes glittered when she looked at him again. “He’s never been there as a husband, either.”
It was after midnight when Ennis left the Winnett residence. Still hours left in the shift, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. There wasn’t much to suggest Roy Winnett wasn’t the right guy, except for Janell Rector’s insistence that he’d wandered into the Last Chance right after the start of Law & Order. Well, it wasn’t inconceivable that Janell was wrong — maybe tonight’s episode had started later for some reason. He’d find a way to check on that tomorrow.
He drove up to the end of Main Street and pulled into the parking lot of the Town Pump, an all-night gas station and convenience store that also housed a keno parlor optimistically named Lucky Lil’s Casino. The name always amused Ennis: There was no luck, and no Lil, and it was not precisely a casino in the sense of roulette wheels and croupiers — but there it was. His friend Chuck Butler, who managed the place, always said it was the most profitable part of the franchise. A couple of dusty pickups were parked outside — karaoke night diehards, Ennis guessed, making sure they emptied their pockets of every last bit of cash before heading home.
Chuck had his back to the door and was watching ESPN when Ennis came in. He was still wearing that stupid “Kawasakis for Christ” biker vest; he swore it was a motorcycle club he’d belonged to at some point in the ’eighties, even though Ennis had never run across any other members and had never known the guy to own a Kawasaki.
Chuck turned at Ennis’s approach. “Yo, Adrian!” Chuck was immensely amused by this reference to the Rocky movies — and therefore to Ennis’s hometown. He had been greeting the deputy this way nearly every day for the last seven years.
“Hey, Chuck.”
“Shit, I heard about Dean Jackman.” He shook his head. “Poor bastard. Saw it coming, though.”
“Too bad he didn’t.”
Chuck rubbed the stubble on his ample chin. “Man, you just never know. Guy was in here earlier tonight. Get this: looking for white wine. All I got is pink; I don’t know why they call it white zinfandel.”
Ennis had wondered the same thing.
“By himself?”
“Acting like he was. But the Chuckerino sees alclass="underline" He also bought a pack of Virginia Slims, and I don’t believe Mr. Jackman smokes. Then when he leaves the store, I notice him smiling at somebody in the front seat. Tinted glass in the Escalade, so I can’t get a positive ID. But I got a theory.”
“You and the rest of the town, I think.”
Chuck nodded. “Guess he and Alana decided to knock off early, check out each other’s real estate. Hell of it was, bunch of kids were coming across the street just when Dean was going out. Little Richie — that’s Roy’s boy — was with them. You know, laughing and grab-assin’ around, like kids do. I saw him stop when Dean opened his door. Suddenly he wasn’t laughing no more. Looked like he’d been cold-cocked.”
“That’s bad.”
Chuck shook his head sadly. “Yep. I think he saw his mom in there, Dean sliding in with a bottle of wine and a pack of smokes, and assumed the worst.”
They considered this in silence. Ennis could see what had set Roy Winnett off on this particular night: The boy had gotten home before his mother and told what he’d seen. Possibly it had come as a complete shock: It wouldn’t have been the first time a spouse being cheated on was the last to know. So Roy had canceled his hunting trip, probably spent the next hour or two drinking, his guts churning, waiting for the sound of his wife’s Taurus in the driveway.
Ennis and Chuck gazed out at the empty street, watching leaves and paper debris hurrying by on the wind. Back in the casino, Ennis heard the dreary bleating of a keno machine — sounded as if one of the high-rollers back there was temporarily a few dollars richer.