Chapter Twelve
Drake’s grim expression perfectly matched Logan’s as they trudged to what would hopefully be the last neighbor’s home. They’d been questioning the people that lived near Mary and Lyle and so far the story had been the same.
Mary and Lyle argued. Loudly. They’d fight and then Lyle would stomp out of the house and tear down the street, going way too fast. Eventually he’d come back and all would be quiet for days and even weeks. Then the cycle would start all over again.
“I hope Ava is having better luck combing through the phone records,” Logan muttered as they knocked on the front door. “Because this is not clearing Mary at all.”
“She just might have done it,” Drake said, shaking his head wearily. “Statistically speaking, she’s our prime suspect.”
Logan was well aware of the numbers, but he simply couldn’t see his sister-in-law hiding in the bushes and shooting her husband. It didn’t mesh with anything that he knew about her. She didn’t like to smudge her nail polish, for heaven’s sake.
“I doubt most marriages would stand up under the scrutiny,” Logan said as the door swung open. An older gentleman, Howard Styles, stood there unsmiling. But then Logan didn’t ever remember Howard cracking a smile in all the years he’d lived in this town. He was, however, a straight shooter and they could count on him to tell the truth.
Drake took the lead since he was the official head lawman in town. “Howard, we were hoping you had a few minutes to chat.”
The man nodded and stepped back to let them in. “I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me. Saw you across the street and figured you’d get to me eventually so I put some coffee on. How do you take it?”
“Black,” Logan replied, following into the kitchen where they sat down at the small round table. “So you know why we’re here?”
“I do. What do you want to know?”
Logan accepted the cup of steaming coffee. “What can you tell us about Mary and Lyle? Or more specifically, what can you tell us about Lyle? Habits, schedules, friends. Anything might help us.”
Howard considered the question, taking his time before answering. “He was a good guy, friendly and helpful, although he didn’t go out of his way to talk to anyone. Mostly he kept to himself, but that wasn’t a surprise considering all that had happened with the Bryson family. He would wave and sometimes stop and talk for a little while. On Christmas, Mary made cookies and candy and they’d give boxes of it to their neighbors. Good fudge. She’d put green and red sprinkles on it.”
Logan didn’t really give a shit about the sprinkles but he stayed quiet, hoping Drake would as well. Howard was just getting warmed up. He was the type that had to tell everything single thing he knew, small or large.
“Anyway, Lyle did keep to a schedule. He ran in the park in the morning pretty much every day unless it was raining or snowing. Even then he’d sometimes go but it wasn’t a sure thing. Then he’d go back home and get ready for work. He usually left for the office about eight-forty-five, coffee in hand.”
Good details. The person who had waited for Lyle had to have known his habits. Since it was a nice day they’d had reason to believe he would be running that morning.
“You’re probably wondering why I know all of this.” Howard took a sip of his coffee. “Being retired, I have a lot of time on my hands. Plus, this window in the kitchen looks out over the Bryson yard and driveway.”
It did indeed. Howard had a front row seat to the comings and goings.
“Anything else?” Logan asked. Howard had yet to mention the arguments.
“He’d come home about six for dinner, although some nights it was much later. On the weekends, he kept busy with projects around the house and yard. He liked to go to the hardware store.”
Drake scribbled in his notebook. “Did they ever have company?”
“Sometimes his brother and the family would come by. Mary had a small book club that met once a week and they’d come over now and then. I’d know because they always blocked my driveway. Not that I really had anywhere to go.”
It sounded like Lyle and Mary had kept a low profile. For the hundredth time Logan wondered what had possessed them to move back to Corville where they were the talk of the town and everyone knew their secrets.
“They were homebodies?” Logan asked. “Didn’t socialize much?”
Howard frowned. “Well…yes and no. Mary didn’t go out much but Lyle did on occasion. Although I don’t know where he was going. He was dressed casually so he could have been heading back to the office. If he left or returned later than nine I wouldn’t know about it because that’s when I usually hit the hay. But I’m up before the sun every morning and have been for more than sixty years.”
As the father of twins, Logan was usually up before the birds and probably would be until the kids were teenagers. Then he’d take great delight in waking their asses up early.
“Anything else?” Drake prompted. “Anything out of the normal routine?”
“Not that I can think of. I’m guessing the other people in the neighborhood told you that the Brysons fought every now and then.”
“They argued?” Logan asked, acting as casual as possible. Like this was the first he was hearing of it. “Often or just now and then?”
Howard stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “I wouldn’t say a whole lot but every now and then. My sweet Nola and I got in a few shouting matches in our time, God rest her soul. I remember one time I had a few too many at the watering hole and she chased me around the backyard with a rolling pin.”
Apparently that was a funny memory for Howard because he was almost smiling. Almost.
“I love a woman with sass, don’t you?” Logan could only agree. He did like a woman with spirit. “That Mary never took any guff from Lyle, I can tell you. She’d give him a piece of her mind when he needed it. Of course, women don’t chase their husbands around with rolling pins anymore.”
Drake nodded in agreement. “I’ve never had the pleasure but don’t give Tori any ideas. She’s got a rolling pin the size of a tree branch in that bakery of hers.”
Howard refilled their coffees from the carafe on the table. “These days they use a shotgun and they mean business.”
About to take another drink of his coffee, Logan froze. What did Howard say?
“A shotgun?”
“Actually, Mary just used a handgun, but Kayla Johnson down the street used a shotgun on her husband when he came home smelling like a whorehouse. The whole neighborhood got a chuckle watching him run back to his car and hide until she calmed down.”
Drake and Logan exchanged a glance. This was worth the visit.
“Mary threatened Lyle with a gun?”
Howard shrugged. “Don’t know what it was about but she told him to leave and never come back. He did come back, of course, the next day and everything seemed back to normal.”
“So it just happened the one time?” Drake asked, his pencil poised over the notebook.
“Far as I know. But it was all peaceful by the next day. Every couple has their own way of working things out.”
They certainly did. When Ava was pissed off at Logan she would make frozen waffles for dinner every night until he broke down and asked what the problem was. Then he’d apologize because it was always that he’d done something stupid or thoughtless.
Ava, however, didn’t usually brandish a firearm in his direction. Or a rolling pin. Funny how Howard didn’t think anything of it. Nola must have been quite a handful back in the day.
They finished their coffee and thanked Howard, waving goodbye as they climbed into the SUV. Drake drove away without saying anything and Logan too was still processing what they’d learned. As they got closer to the station, Logan finally had a few questions.
“Did you know about Mary and Kayla Johnson?”
Drake nodded. “I did know about Kayla because her husband Bill called the cops from inside his vehicle. He was too terrified to leave it until we got there. We took Bill to the drunk tank to sleep it off and told Kayla that threatening people with guns wasn’t smart or legal. She’d calmed down at that point so we didn’t take her in. Never happened again but then they got divorced a short time later. As for Mary, that’s news that she chased him out of their house. You know, this is Montana and everyone has a gun. You’ve been living in the city for too long, my friend. You wouldn’t have batted an eyelash a few years ago.”
Perhaps Logan had become too citified. He’d broken up more domestic situations than he cared to remember and they did include firearms from time to time. The fact that Mary waved one in her husband’s face wasn’t that shocking. What was shocking was that Lyle ended up dead from a gunshot wound.
By trying to clear Mary, he’d only managed to put her further under suspicion. He needed that gun to compare to the bullet they’d pulled out of Lyle. Hopefully Mary would just give it to him so he didn’t have to get a warrant.
That would be fun. Have dinner with Ava’s family and serve a warrant at the same time.