Cross Her Heart (Bree Taggert #1)(21)

By seven o’clock, Mr. Moore escorted the last customer out. After locking the exterior door, he shook Matt’s hand and patted Brody’s head. “Matt, I’m so glad to see you.”

“I want to talk to you about Justin.”

“Yes, of course. I was planning to call you tonight.” Mr. Moore glanced through the glass at the mechanic, who was still working. “Let’s go into my office.” He led Matt into a cramped room with a cluttered metal desk. Mr. Moore closed the door, and Matt pulled a plastic chair to the front edge of the desk. Brody lay at his feet.

Mr. Moore’s eyes were bloodshot. He was a tall man, but his stooped posture made him appear shorter. His office chair squeaked as he collapsed into it. “The police came to see me.” His eyes misted. “I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“Tell them the truth.”

Anger flushed Mr. Moore’s face. “They act like Justin shot Erin. He would never hurt that girl. He loves her.”

“I know it.”

Mr. Moore removed his baseball cap and ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. “Justin is weak is all. He can’t kick those drugs.”

“He’s trying,” Matt said. “What happened with the gun?”

Mr. Moore bowed his head. “I don’t know. It was in my nightstand the last time I looked.”

“Do you remember when that was?”

Mr. Moore squinted at the ceiling. “A few weeks ago.”

“The gun wasn’t in a safe?”

“No. I wanted it handy.” Mr. Moore examined a line of grease under his thumbnail. He sighed, a long, heavy sound weighted with regret.

“Are you sure Justin took it?”

“No, but he was the only other person in my house recently.”

“When was Justin last there?”

“He comes for dinner a few nights a week. His budget is really tight. I can’t afford to pay him what he was making at the bank. I wish I hadn’t told the police it was missing, but they asked if Justin had access to a gun, so I checked mine. I was surprised it was gone, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“No, you did the right thing.”

Justin had grown up in the auto shop. He’d said he was grateful for the job, but Matt had seen him scrub his fingertips raw to get the grease stains out from under his fingernails.

“Why do you think Justin took the gun?” Matt asked.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t tell this to the cops, but Justin was afraid.”

“Of what?” Matt asked.

“I’m not sure, but he’s been jumpy for the last week or so, checking the parking lot on the security camera feeds before he left the shop, stuff like that.” Mr. Moore propped his hand on his hip. “I didn’t tell the deputies because I was afraid Justin was buying drugs again. Should I tell them, even if it makes him look more guilty?”

“Don’t lie to the authorities, but you don’t have to volunteer information,” Matt said. “I’m going to look for Justin.”

Mr. Moore exhaled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Do you know where Justin bought his drugs?” Matt asked.

Mr. Moore shook his head. “Here’s another thing I didn’t tell the deputy: when he was using, Justin carried two phones, his regular one and one of those cheap prepaid models.”

“For buying drugs,” Matt said.

A burner, or prepaid phone, could be purchased without supplying personal information, making the user anonymous.

Mr. Moore hung his head. “That’s what I assumed.”

“Do you know if he currently has a burner phone?”

Mr. Moore looked away. “He did. He has a red case on his regular phone, and the other day I was putting out some trash and saw him using a black one in the parking lot. It looked smaller too, and it was bone-cold outside. He could have made calls from the break room or borrowed my office.”

“Did you hear any of the conversation?”

“Only a couple of words. He said, ‘Hold on, Nico,’ and waited for me to go back inside before he continued his conversation.” Mr. Moore paused, the lines in his craggy face deepening. “The only time he was ever secretive was when he was using.”

“You didn’t say this to the deputy who came to interview you?”

“No. He didn’t ask.” Mr. Moore set his cap back on his head. “I don’t know what to do, Matt. Do I trust the sheriff’s office or not? On the news, it sure seems like they’ve pegged Erin’s death on him.”

Because that’s what the evidence suggests.

“You’re in a tough spot,” Matt said. “Can you think of anywhere Justin would go if he needed to lay low for a few days?”

“I’ve been thinking about this all day, but I just don’t know. He likes to camp to clear his head, but not in this kind of weather.”

Matt made a mental note to check Justin’s garage for his camping gear. He stood. “I’ll do what I can.”

Mr. Moore wrung Matt’s hand. “Thank you. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

“Do you have a key to Justin’s house?” Matt wanted to search the premises after the sheriff’s department released the crime scene.