Save Me - Lisa Scottoline [102]
“Kurt called me Monday night, before the accident, and he mentioned something about a ‘buddy of mine,’ who told him that some guys from Campanile had left some polyurethane in the teachers’ lounge. He said that that helped cause the fire. I was wondering who that buddy might be. Do you know?”
“Well, Kurt’s best buddy was Hank.”
“Hank Powell, who was killed with him?”
“Yeah. Both wakes are tonight, and the burials are tomorrow.”
“Is that where everybody is?”
“Yeah, but I can’t go, that’s why I’m here. They all just left to go get ready, but I sent my wife. I go to Drexel at night, for law.”
“That can’t be easy. My husband’s a lawyer.” Rose paused, thinking. “Kurt said something about new buddies. You know anything about that?”
“No.”
“Would Hank have known about Campanile or cans of polyurethane?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did anybody at Bethany Run used to work for Campanile?”
Warren snorted. “You wouldn’t go from Campanile to us, not if you could help it. Campanile, they’re a whole ’nother league from us. The bigs.”
“Do you know anything about Campanile or cans of polyurethane?”
“No.”
Rose thought a minute. “Do you think any of the other Bethany Run guys knew somebody at Campanile?”
“Possible, but I don’t know. I never met any of the Campanile crew. We only came after the fire.”
“What if I wanted to find out who from Campanile worked on the school? Would any of your guys know that?”
“No.”
“Then I guess the only way to find out which Campanile guys worked on this job is to ask Campanile.”
“Good luck.” Warren chuckled. “They’re not gonna give out that kind of information, especially if they think a lawsuit’s coming down the pike, like they said on the news.”
“You’re right.” Rose took a flyer. “Do you know what happened with Kurt’s accident? I mean, how it happened exactly?”
“All I know is Kurt was driving, it was his truck, and it went off the side of the road and hit a tree. There was no shoulder on that stretch of the expressway.”
Rose had to tell him what she was worrying about, or she wouldn’t get anywhere. “Does it seem strange to you that alcohol was a factor?”
“Yes, I was a little surprised.”
“Why?” Rose asked, intrigued.
“I figured that the newspapers played up the alcohol angle, but that wasn’t like Kurt. Kurt woulda had a beer or two, at most. He must’ve been tired, dozed off, and the combination is what did them in.”
“What about Hank? Did he drink?”
“Never, not anymore. He was three years sober. Marie woulda drop-kicked his ass.”
Rose felt her heartbeat quicken. “When Kurt called me before the crash, he sounded a little drunk, slurring his words, a little.”
Warren frowned. “That wouldn’t be like him. He was a responsible guy. He took care of his sister and niece.”
“I know. I could play you the voice message. I saved it, if you want to hear it.” Rose hesitated. “It might be upsetting, now.”
“No, play it.”
Rose slid her phone from her purse, then thumbed to voicemail and played the message on speaker. Kurt’s amplified words echoed eerily through the burned-out cafeteria, then the message clicked off. She eyed Warren for a reaction in the twilight-blue haze.
“Can’t say I can explain that,” he said, rubbing his chin.
“He sounds kinda drunk, right?”
“Kinda.”
“If he was, why would Hank let him drive? Doesn’t that seem weird to you? That a guy with a wife and a new baby would let his buzzed friend drive him home?”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m wondering if someone killed Kurt because he was asking questions about the fire. Or because he knew about the polyurethane.”
“What?” Warren’s small eyes flew open. “You’re talking about murder.”
“I know. I’m just trying to figure it out, and I can’t explain why Hank would let Kurt drive drunk. Unless Hank didn’t know.” Rose thought