For the Right Reasons

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RATHER THAN WAITING for Jerrod to exit the car, Eric was across the postage-stamp lawn in three long strides. He wasn’t going to give this jerk a chance to flee as he had the other night. The second the driver’s door opened, Eric had the man by his elbow and was dragging him out of the car.

“Hey!” Jerrod screamed as Eric shoved him up against the car. “What the—”

“Jerrod Crowley. Want to tell me what you’re doing with that car?”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking. Get the hell away from me before I break your nose!”

Eric wasn’t worried. This guy was soft and doughy, and the fear in his eyes gave him away. He was the type to run rather than fight. Eric could take him any day of the week.

“How did you get this car?”

“It’s my girlfriend’s.”

“And where is Philomene?”

“Look, I don’t know. She vanished couple of days ago, no warning. Then she texted me, said she was leaving town for a while. Check my phone. The text is still there.”

Eric loosened his grip on Jerrod, just enough that the man could reach in his back pocket and pull out his phone.

Jerrod scrolled through his texts for a few seconds, then handed the phone to Eric. “Right there. See?”

The text was dated Tuesday, the same day Philomene had stood them up at the Home Cookin’ Café. The message had originated from Philomene’s phone—Eric recognized the number by now.

HAD TO LEAVE FOR A WHILE. PICK UP MY CAR AT CURRY ROAD & 238. KEYS UNDER MAT. LOVE YOU.

“He could have texted that message to himself,” Bree said.

Eric jumped. He hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him. “So he could explain why he has her car.”

“Are you guys cops?” Jerrod asked dubiously.

It was tempting to say yes. The second Jerrod knew they were civilians with no authority over him, he would cease to cooperate. But impersonating a cop came with some pretty severe penalties. Eric wasn’t above allowing someone to believe something that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to lie about it. He’d done enough lying this week to last him awhile.

“We’re not cops,” Eric said.

“Then get your friggin’ hands off me.” Jerrod shook off Eric’s grip.

“We’re worried about Philomene,” Bree said. “And if you care anything about her, you should be worried, too.”

“She took off. What’s the big deal? People do it all the time.”

“Then why did she abandon her car at some intersection in the middle of nowhere?” Bree countered.

“I figured she met some guy there. Phil wasn’t too happy with me lately—it was only a matter of time before she moved on. I was kinda surprised she left her car with me. She never loaned it to me, not after I put a big scratch in the side. But then I thought maybe that was her way of saying sorry. You know. For dumping me.”

Jerrod’s story was plausible...barely. At any rate, Eric wasn’t willing to threaten the guy with any more violence. Already Eric could be charged with assault. He took a step back, giving the other man some breathing room.

“Sorry, dude,” he said. “I’m just worried about Philomene. I went a little crazy there.”

“Why do you care about her?” Jerrod asked suspiciously. “She sleeping with you, too?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“We’re her friends, that’s all.” Bree placed her hand on Eric’s arm. “Come on, this is getting us nowhere. Let’s go look somewhere else.”

Eric would have preferred to stay here and pound some more answers out of Jerrod. If they really were cops, they would ask the same questions over and over in different ways, trying to get Jerrod to change his story. But Bree was uncomfortable.

“If you find her,” Jerrod said, “tell her to call me. She’s still got some DVDs of mine, and if we’re through, I want ’em back.”

“You don’t sound that broken up about getting dumped,” Eric observed.

Jerrod shrugged. “Like I said, it didn’t come as a big surprise.”

Bree said nothing until they were back in the car. “Wow. Here I thought you were some mild-mannered lawyer, and you go all Rambo on that poor guy.”

“‘That poor guy’ is our best suspect. Why would Philomene abandon her car if she was leaving town? And why would she give it to a guy like that?”

“Yeah, but someone texted Jerrod. If he did it himself, why didn’t he cook up a better story?”