“And the second place?” I asked.
“A bookie in New Orleans,” Jeb said.
“Which explains why he got behind on his taxes,” I said. “You sure about that?”
“There’s been people come here looking for Silas a couple times,” Wyatt said. “We knew what they were when they showed up, so we just directed them to his place and didn’t try to start conversations. Safer that way, you know?”
Jeb nodded. “Had a cousin who got mixed up in that business. His wife ended up burying him before his fortieth birthday. That’s not the sort of people you get crossways with.”
“And two days ago—was that grocery or gambling day?” I asked.
“Neither,” Wyatt said. “No idea what he was doing.”
And suddenly, a thought occurred to me.
“Is Silas behind on his property taxes now?” I asked.
“Matter of fact, he’s three years behind now,” Jeb said. “They were talking about starting legal proceedings again.”
I looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie. “Let’s grab some cold drinks and snacks for the ride home.”
I knew the two men wouldn’t take money from me in exchange for the information, but I also knew they were probably living on Social Security or some minimal retirement. Buying some snacks was at least one way I could pass some money their way.
Ten minutes later, we were headed for the highway, munching on stale potato chips and drinking flat root beer.
“Well, that was interesting,” Gertie said.
“It most certainly was,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “Ladies, I think we might have two cases to investigate.”
We’d just reached the highway when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. I pulled it out and answered.
“Ms. Redding? This is Glenn,” he said, his voice somewhat muffled.
“Yes. Hello.”
“You’re not going to believe who just walked into the bar.”
“Dexter and his girlfriend,” I said.
“You got it. And neither of them looks overly happy.”
“I’m about twenty minutes away. Do you think they’ll stay that long?”
“I don’t know. They were arguing about money when I went over to take their order so probably not.”
“Give them a discount,” I said. “I’ll make up the difference.”
“I’m not worried about the money,” he said. “What is it you plan to do?”
“I’m still thinking about that one,” I said.
I disconnected and told Ida Belle to head back to The Bar.
“Are you going to confront him with the girlfriend?” Gertie asked.
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to tip our hand.”
Gertie sighed. “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be smart. But man, I bet it would be interesting.”
“Glenn’s lost enough windows today,” I said.
“It’s going to be hard to do anything besides get a look at them,” Ida Belle said. “We can’t go in the bar. The place is tiny and Dexter knows all three of us. He’d know we were following him.”
“But he might not know your vehicle,” I said. “We were in my Jeep when we went to Ally’s that day. So unless he looked outside when we dropped off the catering money, he doesn’t know what you drive.”
“That’s true,” Ida Belle said. “So we might be able to follow them when they leave.”
“But what’s that going to tell us?” Gertie asked.
“For starters, I can get some pictures of them together,” I said. “Which will help the DA with the motive end of things. And if we know where they’re staying, then it will make it easier on Carter when he needs to arrest him.”
“So you think Dexter’s our guy?” Gertie asked.
“He’s certainly at the top of the list,” I said. “I just can’t make sense of his timing.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Seems like if Molly was really going to make him a partner, he would wait to kill her after the ink was dry.”
“And the heated-moment thing doesn’t work if she was shot with an arrow,” Gertie said. “Dexter’s girlfriend would have to be on hand for that sort of thing and with her weapon. Based on her phone call to Angel, it sounded like Molly went off in her boat to take a breather, so Dexter couldn’t have known she was going.”
“Which is why I’d like to know where this girlfriend is holed up,” I said. “I need to know if she was close enough to take advantage of a random opportunity or if this was somehow planned.”
“If it was planned, it wasn’t a very good plan,” Gertie said.
“Have you met Dexter?” Ida Belle asked.
“I know, I know,” Gertie said. “Most criminals are dumb and we should be thankful, but it’s hard to be thankful when you knew the victim.”
“We’re going to find out what happened,” I said. “And if someone killed Molly—which is what it looks like—then they’re going to pay. We’ll make sure of it. And I know that doesn’t fix things but it sure makes them easier to live with.”
Ida Belle circled the block around The Bar, then spotted a parking spot on the next block but with a clear view of the door. I pulled out my phone and called Glenn, who verified they were still there but looking as if they were about to wrap things up.
“Looks like we got here just in time,” I said when I hung up.
We watched the entrance and about five minutes later, Dexter and a young blonde came walking out. I snapped some shots of them crossing the road.
“Here we go,” Ida Belle said as they climbed into an old white Hyundai with a rusted roof.
“That’s not Dexter’s truck,” I said. “It must belong to her.”
“Well, let’s hope she’s not a crazy driver,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie snorted. “Like you’d have trouble keeping up.”
“I could keep up with NASCAR drivers,” Ida Belle said. “But not without them noticing.”
“Hopefully she’ll take it easy since they were drinking,” I said.
Ida Belle and Gertie both stared at me. I couldn’t blame them. Dating Dexter was proof alone that the woman wasn’t all that bright, and if she’d been involved in a murder plot then that was additional points off her IQ. But then, by all accounts, Molly had been smart and she’d kept Dexter around even though she knew the score. For all we knew, Rat Eyes could have bigger self-esteem problems than Molly did, but I was betting the drug problem was her primary motivator.
We saw the brake lights flash on, then the car lurched forward, hit the curb, rolled off of it, and kept going. Ida Belle waited until they were at the end of the block, then started after them. Marissa took a straight route to the highway and headed toward Sinful. Ida Belle entered the highway some distance behind her but since it was flat and straight, it was easy to keep the car in our sights without getting close enough to call attention. Fortunately, Marissa was driving barely above the speed limit, and occasionally a random vehicle or delivery truck passed both of us. It looked like any evening on the highway.