"Victoria, we're here for a reason, remember?"

"Okay, fine. You win."

We approached the seats near Sam and Mitch.e.l.l, even though our tickets were for seats that were quite a bit away from them. No one was going to mind, since the stadium was nearly deserted.

"Fancy finding you two here," I said as Moose and I sat down directly behind them.

"I was just leaving," Mitch.e.l.l said as he started to stand.

"Don't go on our account," Moose said.

"I have to get back to the office. I just wanted to see what this year's team looked like."

"What are their chances?" I asked.

"They've got potential," Mitch.e.l.l said, and he started to go.

Moose patted his jacket as he winked at me. "Victoria, I must have left my wallet at the concession stand. I'll be right back."

I started to stand as well, but my grandfather shook his head and looked straight at Sam Jackson. I got it. We were dividing and conquering. He was going to handle Mitch.e.l.l on his own, and I got Sam. Good enough. I was sure that I could handle him.

As I settled into my seat, I said, "Word around town is that you had the best motive of any suspect to want to see Gordon Murphy dead. Do you happen to have an alibi for the time of his murder?"

To my surprise, Jackson started to chuckle softly. "I've got to hand it to you, Victoria. You've skipped the whole subtle approach and gone straight to the heart of the matter."

"Do you have an answer for me?"

"I'd like to help you out, but I didn't kill Gordon."

"Why should I believe you?" I asked as the batter got a base hit and the meager crowd cheered.

"You might find this hard to believe, but it's not all that important to me that you do," Jackson said.

"I saw how angry you were when you found out that Gordon was back in town. Are you trying to tell me now that you didn't do anything about it?"

"Oh, no. I confronted him," Jackson admitted as he watched the next batter swing and miss, and I nearly choked on a peanut.

"You're actually admitting it?" I asked.

"Why shouldn't I? He paid me back, with interest, a few hours before someone killed him. As far as I was concerned, it was over. Sure, I was mad at the time, but he paid me enough to make me let bygones be bygones."

"Do you have any proof that's what really happened?" I asked him.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. The only denomination I could see was a hundred, and the rest could have been all ones for all I knew, but it was an impressive show of money. "How's that for proof?"

"There's no evidence that you got that from Gordon, and even if you did, how do I know you didn't punish him anyway after he paid you off?"

"Victoria, I've got to say that you're really starting to annoy me," Jackson said as he put the money away.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"

"Why are you so interested in who killed Gordon anyway?" he asked me. "I can't imagine that you were that big a fan of the man."

"Ellen's a part of my family," I said. "I take all threats to her seriously."

"So, are you telling me that you might have whacked old Gordon yourself to protect your family?" he asked with the hint of a smile.

"No, I don't work that way."

"And you're implying that I do?" he asked as he swung around in his seat.

"I'm not saying anything," I answered. I was suddenly uncomfortable having Sam Jackson's full attention directed straight at me.

"You need to be a little more careful about how you act around me." There was a sudden intensity to his words that made me glad that we were in a public place with a hundred witnesses around us. Sam Jackson was not a man I wanted angry with me.

"There's no need to get angry. I'm just asking questions, remember?" I asked.

"That doesn't mean that I have to like them," he said. "Maybe you should do us both a favor and find another seat."

"I don't know. The view's pretty good from here, Sam."

He frowned for a moment, and then Jackson stood. "Fine. You can have it. I'm done with this conversation, Victoria. I think that it might be a good idea for you to mind your own business whenever it concerns me. You're not a cop, no matter how much you might enjoy trying to be a detective."

"I do more than try," I said, not breaking our eye contact. "In case you've forgotten, my grandfather and I have solved more than one murder in Jasper Fork."

"He's not here right now to save you, though, is he?" Jackson asked. He was definitely threatening me now, and I could almost taste the anger in his words.

"I'm sure that I can handle you just fine without him," I said, though I didn't entirely believe that myself.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. If you keep snooping into my life, you might just get more than you bargained for."

"Are you really threatening me?" I asked, doing my best to smile at him, though I had to admit that he'd shaken me, and more than just a little. This was one seriously bad man, and I might have just pushed him too hard.

"We're just having an innocent conversation, remember?" Jackson asked as he stood and walked to another section of the stands.

That had been productive, if I counted angering one of our primary suspects to the point where he felt the need to threaten me. At least life was never boring. I'd have to watch my back a little more carefully until the case was solved, but I wouldn't let Sam Jackson, or anyone else, keep me from digging into Gordon Murphy's murder. There was too much at stake.

Moose walked back to our seats a few minutes later. "What happened to Sam?"

I pointed him out, and then I told my grandfather, "He didn't care for my company any longer, if you can imagine that."

"Funny, I can handle it without too much of a problem myself," he said with the hint of a smile. "Were you able to get anything out of him, or did you spend the entire time just ticking him off?"

"He told me that Gordon Murphy paid him off, and he even showed me a wad of bills to prove his point."

"My, my," Moose said.

"I don't put much credence in it," I said. "There's no way to prove that he got that money as a payoff from Gordon, and even if Jackson was telling the truth about that, how do we know he didn't kill Gordon after he gave him the money he owed him?"

"You didn't just come right out and ask the man that, did you?"

I shrugged. "I might have said something to that effect," I admitted.

"So, you tried to antagonize him into confessing, is that it?"

"I thought it might be worth a shot," I said.

"Was it? Victoria, even if he didn't kill Gordon Murphy, we can't forget that he's still a bad man mixed up in some things we don't want to deal with."

"Hey, all I did was stir the pot a little." It was time to change the subject. "How did things go with Mitch.e.l.l?"

"Not as well as I'd hoped," Moose admitted.

"So, he didn't confess, either?"

"He wouldn't even tell me his alibi," my grandfather said.

"Did he threaten you, though?" I asked.

"No, he was almost apologetic as he raced out of the ball park."

"Then I win," I said. "Come on, Moose, if our suspects aren't offended by the way we're asking questions, then we aren't trying hard enough."

"I prefer to think of my technique as one involving finesse," he said.

I had to laugh at that one.

"What's so funny, Victoria?"

"Moose, I'm usually the one who uses subtle questions to get information from our suspects."

"I know. That's what has me so worried."

I looked at my grandfather and saw that he was clearly upset. I touched his shoulder as I said, "Come on. It's not that bad."

"You can't treat our suspects this way, and certainly not a man like Sam Jackson. What were you thinking, Victoria?"

"I don't know. There's just something about that man that rubs me the wrong way, and I'm afraid that I let it show," I admitted.

"Well, you'd better learn to curb your feelings, or at least hide them better," my grandfather answered.

"I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, both of those men are still viable suspects."

"Until we get alibis from them, I'd have to agree with that," Moose said.

"So, where does that leave us?"

He broke open a peanut, ate it, and then took a sip of his soda. "I don't have the taste for these that I once had," Moose said as he wadded up the bag of nuts. "As for what we should do next, I don't have a clue."

"If you don't mind then, I'd like to go back and talk to Wayne at the garage."

"Is there something you know that I don't?" Moose asked.

I had a hundred smart answers for that one, but I decided to let it slide. "Earlier today, Jessie Blackstone came by the diner to apologize for the way she behaved."

"That's good information for me to have," Moose said a little chidingly.

"I'm telling you right now," I said. "I'm sorry, but there just hasn't been time to bring you up to speed on everything that's been going on."

"It's fine," Moose said. "What does Jessie coming into The Charming Moose have to do with us talking to Wayne?"

"When Jessie left the diner, I happened to glance out the window, and I saw Wayne following her in his car. I have a hunch that our favorite mechanic is doing a little sleuthing on his own."

"And you want to tell him to stop?" Moose asked wryly.

"Why not?"

"We're not technically supposed to be investigating murder, either," he said.

"No, but we have to be better at it than Wayne. I'm afraid that he doesn't have the right set of skills, if you know what I mean."

"Maybe, maybe not," Moose said. "He's probably not going to take kindly to us warning him off the case, though."

"At the very least, we can find out what he discovered following Jessie around. Who knows, maybe he found something useful."

"So, you don't want him digging into Gordon's murder, but you don't mind getting information from his investigation. Am I the only one who sees a little bit of a discrepancy in that att.i.tude?"

"I never claimed to be consistent," I said.

"I'm glad," Moose said. As we headed up the steps toward the parking lot, he added, "Next stop, the auto repair shop. I just hope Wayne's done with sleuthing for now so we can hear what he's found so far."

"If not, we'll track him down later, but it's worth a shot."

"Agreed," Moose said, and we took off toward the shop to ask another amateur sleuth what he'd been able to uncover, and then ask him to stop digging. Moose was right. It was a dangerous tightrope to walk, but that didn't mean that it wasn't worth attempting.

I hated to see anyone risking their lives trying to find a murderer, and if that was inconsistent with the way that Moose and I ran our own lives, I could live with that.

Chapter 11.

"We're in luck," Moose said as he pulled into the parking lot. "There's Wayne's truck right there. How do you want to handle this? Are you going to come out and call him a murderer, too, or is that just something you saved for Sam Jackson?"

"I told you, I admit that I was wrong the way I handled him. Besides, I don't think Wayne did it."