Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 69

She looked down. “Yes, Mr. Deveraux.”
“Good. I’m leaving the courthouse for a bit.” Mason looked up at me, resignation on his face. “Let’s go find Bruce Wayne.”
When we got onto the world’s slowest elevator, I said, “You didn’t have to do that. She was only doing her job.”
His eyes burned with anger. “If she was doing her job, she would have called me immediately and told me you were there. She knows you receive top priority.”
I’d never been in Mason’s office before, although I’d been outside of it, and the few times I’d called him had always been on his cell phone. “Why?”
“Because you have a knack for finding trouble, and I know you well enough to know you’d only call if it was important.”
“Well…thank you.”
“Do you think Decker’s information is credible?”
It took me a second to realize what he was asking. “You mean he might have been stoned and made a mistake? I suppose it’s always a possibility with a drug addict, but if you’re asking me if I think he was stoned, then no. Bruce Wayne’s trying to stay clean, and I was with him enough last week to have noticed if he was high.”
He nodded. “Good enough for me.”
My stomach was a ball of nerves when we got to Merilee’s, and my heart sank when I saw Bruce Wayne’s table was empty. “He’s not here.”
Mason looked around the small caf. “Could he be in the restroom?”
Cringing, I shook my head. “No. He was at this table and now it’s cleared off. He must have took off right after I left.”
“Do you know where he would go if he’s scared?”
I wanted to cry. “No. I don’t even know where he lives. I contacted him through David at the Piggly Wiggly. They just showed up at the job.”
“Then let’s go to the Piggly Wiggly and see if David’s there. Maybe he knows where his friend is.”
“He won’t be there. I’m pretty sure he only works nights.” I sank into the chair at Bruce Wayne’s table. “This is all my fault. He was scared to death. I never should have left him.”
“No more talk like that. This is not your fault. We’ll find him.”
I looked up at Mason. “They wouldn’t think he was a suspect if I hadn’t hired him and made him work there.”
“You told me he was doing a good job. And he showed up this morning, right? Even after the stunt Pruitt pulled on you two yesterday.”
“Yeah…”
Mason sat in the chair in front of me. “Men get pride from working and doing a good job. Seems to me that Bruce Wayne’s had a run of bad luck. Sure he’s brought a lot of it on himself, but he couldn’t catch a break after getting arrested for a murder he didn’t commit…until you gave him one.”
I rested my elbows on the table and leaned my forehead into my hands. “Maybe I gave him one, but look what good it did him. He’s about to get arrested for something he didn’t do. Again.”
“We’ll find out where he’s hiding and get this mess cleaned up, okay?”
I lowered my hands. “Why are you helping me? You don’t even know him.”
The corners of Mason’s mouth lifted slightly. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
The waitress came over, perkier than when she’d waited on Bruce Wayne. “Hey, Mr. Deveraux. Do you want your usual?” She flashed him a toothy smile.
He shook his head with a sigh and stood. “No. I’m about to leave. Thanks anyway, Brittany.”
I got up, watching the two of them, surprised by how familiar they seemed. But then again, Mason was a single man who spent a lot of time at the courthouse. It stood to reason he ate here a lot.
She tilted her head as she studied me. “Weren’t you with the guy who was sitting here just a little while ago?”
“Yeah,” I pulled my wallet out of my purse. “I’m sorry he took off. Do I owe you any money for his bill?”
“Nah, the guys he left with took care of it.”
My head jerked up. “What guys?”
“Two guys came in and sat with him. He looked nervous about seeing them, but he was jittery when you were with him, so I didn’t think much of it.”
Mason turned to her. “Do you remember what they did?”
She blushed and brushed the hair off her face self-consciously. “They didn’t really do anything, Mr. Deveraux. They just talked. When I brought out the nervous guy’s breakfast, all three of them were gone. The money was laying on the table.”
Mason fixed his gaze on her. “Did you see where they went?”
“Yeah, I think I saw them going out the back.”
“Do you remember what the two guys looked like?”
“Yeah, one was tall and bald with snake tattoos on his neck.”
“Can you guess how old he was?”
She scrunched her nose as she pondered it. “I’m guessing in his thirties. The other guy looked like a kid.”
“A little kid?”
“No, a teenager. Acne and all. He had long black, shaggy hair. He was kind of lanky. And some peach fuzz on his chin.”
I put my hand on Mason’s arm. “That sounds like Thomas.”
Brittany scowled as her gaze pinned on my hand.
Mason didn’t notice; his focus was on me. “You’re sure?”