Date: Sat, 27 Sep 2014 12:36:29 -0700
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
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.


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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.