Emmett headed for the sheriff’s department, thinking that now he’d finished interviewing everyone in his county that had anything to do with Darby Hunt’s late wife, maybe he should interview more of Hunt’s own family? Maybe some of them felt he was a bad influence and decided to kill him. Then Emmett sighed inwardly. With Billy Hunt dead from drunk driving and Shorty Hunt in jail out in California for whatever, who in that family would think Darby was such a bad influence? Wouldn’t hurt to call some of ’em, just in case.
Maybe he’d go by and talk to Hunt’s mama, see what she had to say. He shuddered at the thought. That mean old bat was liable to pull a gun on him before he opened his mouth. Probably blamed him anyway for her son getting shot.
Which led him to wonder if there was anyone left from the old days still in police work who would take offence at Darby Hunt getting out? He knew Milt had been around, but Milt’s alibi for the night of the shooting was pretty good; Bill Williams was still around, and the deed had been done in his county. And he was the first one to know that Darby Hunt had been let out.
He shook his head. Naw, he thought, Bill didn’t get real caught up in his cases. Most of it was like water off a duck’s back with Bill. Dead bodies were just the price of doing business when you were in law enforcement, he heard Bill say once. So unless there was something really personal about Cheryl Hunt’s murder – like she was his sister or daughter or cousin or something – he doubted Bill would get his knickers in a knot over it. But, just to be on the safe side, Emmett pulled his squad car into a parking lot and pulled out his cell phone. Another reason, he reckoned, to get one of those bluetooth things. He dialed Lisa Atkins’ number.
When she said hello, Emmett said, ‘Miz Atkins, this is Emmett Hopkins with the sheriff’s department again. Real quick: is Bill Williams, sheriff of Tejas County, any kin to y’all?’
‘Not that I know of,’ she said.
‘Ex-boyfriend of your sister’s or anything?’
‘Cheryl started going with Darby Hunt in junior high and never went out with anyone else.’ There was a slight sob on her end of the phone. ‘Never knew a gentle hand from a man. Not ever.’
‘Ma’am, I’m sorry. Thanks for the info.’ He hung up quick, not wanting to hear her cry, started the car and headed for the shop. Once there, he checked in with Holly and headed back to his – Milt’s – office. And dialed Milt’s cell phone.
‘I’m sorta busy,’ Milt said when he answered.
‘I got nothing,’ Emmett said.
‘Yeah, well I’ve got my own dead body here.’
‘No shit? But you’re not sheriff on the boat, Milt.’
‘I’m just helping out the security chief here. So, what’s up with Hunt?’
‘I talked to everybody and their brother, literally, and can’t see anyone sticking out. I mean, all the McDaniels had reason to kill him, but most of them have an alibi, and those who don’t just don’t seem the type.’
‘So you got the McDaniels and who else?’ Milt said.
‘Well, there’s a bunch of them. Including Hunt’s daughter. And then there’s Hunt’s girlfriend—’
‘He had a girlfriend?’
‘Yeah, I told you! The principal at Petal’s school!’
‘Oh, right. That sucks. I just don’t understand women who go for convicted felons. Especially ones who killed or raped women.’
‘Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me either!’ Emmett said.
‘You talk to Bill Williams? See if anybody on his end knows anything?’
‘Yeah, I guess I should do that. And speaking of Bill, did he seem unduly upset back when Cheryl Hunt got killed?’
‘Unduly? Not so I noticed. I went over there when it happened, since Bill arrested Darby on the spot and Darby was a resident of my county, but Bill just seemed relieved that nobody in Cheryl’s family had let the bastard get away. Why?’
Emmett shrugged, even though he knew Milt couldn’t see him. ‘Just a thought – you know, sometimes law enforcement gets too involved, maybe something personal—’
‘Naw, not Bill. But speaking of personal, your heart just doesn’t seem to be in this, Emmett,’ Milt said.
‘Well, now, if anybody deserved killing, it was old Darby Hunt,’ Emmett said.
‘We just uphold the laws, we don’t write ’em and we don’t get a say, you know what I mean?’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean, but that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy myself,’ Emmett said, said bye and hung up.
He got the papers Bill Williams had faxed over to him and got the list of Darby Hunt’s relatives. Crossing off Billy and Shorty still left a whole gob of them. Getting out a phone book, he looked up some of the names and discovered one of the Hunts, Josiah, was a preacher man, pastor of the LIOB Baptist Church, not affiliated, according to the yellow pages ad, with the Southern Baptist Church. After talking to their leader, Emmett had a feeling that would be a relief to Southern Baptists everywhere. He called the number and Josiah himself answered. ‘LIOB,’ he said.
‘Pastor Hunt?’ Emmett asked.
‘You got him,’ the man said.
‘This is Emmett Hopkins, head deputy of the Longbranch Sheriff’s Department—’
‘You’re calling about my ne’er-do-well cousin Darby, I betcha,’ he said.
‘Yes, sir,’ Emmett said.
‘It all come from his mama’s side,’ Josiah said. ‘She’s Milsted, and them Milsteds are a bad lot. Bad to the bone.’
‘So you think it was all Darby’s fault that Billy drove drunk and got himself killed, and Shorty’s in prison in California for being stupid?’
Josiah laughed. ‘Well, now, those two were bad apples, Deputy, I ain’t gonna argue that.’
‘Why I’m calling, Pastor—’
‘Just call me Brother Josiah, Deputy.’
‘Just call me Emmett, Josiah,’ Emmett said. ‘So, I thought being a preacher you might be able to tell me about your kin and if any of ’em might want to kill old Darby.’
‘Well, now I heard somebody killed Darby. And I’m figuring it was God’s will. But as for this branch of the Hunts, I’m saying probably not. Both Billy’s daddy and Shorty’s daddy are dead, and Billy’s mama, too. Shorty’s mama’s still with us, but she’s a sweet little ol’ thing, wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘What about Vivica?’ Emmett asked, thinking of the female cousin Milt had mentioned who was as big as the boys but twice as mean.
‘Oh, now we don’t tolerate her kind round here,’ Josiah said. ‘Them’s that lie down with their own sex and all that, like Jesus said.’
Emmett was pretty sure Jesus never said any such thing, but he wasn’t going to argue with this dumbass bigot. ‘So where is she?’
‘Last I heard she had a cattle ranch in Montana, her and some other sinful woman. And they’re having babies too. If they lived around here, I’d take those poor children away from her, you can guarantee that!’
‘Anybody else in the family—’
‘Well, now there were four brothers, who begat eight sons. Darby was his daddy’s only child, and my daddy had two girls, and three more boys, including me. Both my older brothers died some time ago. Shorty has a brother, but he lives in Arkansas, and Billy had a brother, but he was in the car with Billy when it crashed. He didn’t die, but he might as well have. He’s been lying in his mama’s living room for almost twenty years now, on life-support. I’d pray the God Lord take him home, but I think my aunt would hold on to him so tight either he’d stay here or she’d go to heaven with him.’
‘So that’s it?’ Emmett asked.
‘Yessir, that’s all.’
‘Did you kill Darby?’ Emmett asked, a little desperately.
Josiah laughed good-naturedly. ‘Sorry, Deputy. Don’t mean to disappoint, but no, I didn’t kill ol’ Darby.’
‘By the way, Josiah,’ Emmett said, ‘what does LIOB stand for?’
‘Literal Interpretation of the Bible, Deputy! Every word of that good book is pure truth and should be accepted as such. And those that don’t won’t be rising come judgment day!’
Emmett thanked the preacher man and hung up.
Time to call Bill Williams in Tejas County. He hoped to hell Bill had heard about Hunt’s murder through the grapevine, because he sure as hell hadn’t called him to tell him about it. Emmett, he said to himself, stop thinking about Petal and get serious about this. Okey dokey, he answered himself. Will do.
Dalton sat at his desk in the bullpen and stared at Holly’s back. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She was as cute as a mongrel pup, he thought to himself.
He’d talked to Jamie Smith over at the Longbranch First National, the lady who’d loaned him the money for his car, and she’d cleared him for the amount of the house, less his down payment. Since Dalton lived with his mama, and only paid some of the bills (she didn’t ask for rent), he’d been able to sock away a goodly amount. Enough for a down payment and a nice diamond, with some left over to start a college fund for his and Holly’s first child.
The down payment was big enough that his monthly payments, even with taxes and insurance, would be well within his means. When he first heard the realtor lady say how much the house was, he thought he’d never be able to swing it but, here it was, right here on his desk, in black and white. He could do it. With enough left over from his paycheck for all the rest – like utilities and insurance and his one credit card, and groceries and such. Holly’s paycheck could be used just for fun. Until she got pregnant and quit her job, of course.
Hands shaking, Dalton picked up the phone on his desk and called Holly’s extension. She was less than a yard away from him, but he thought she’d think this was funny. And he loved making her laugh, even when he didn’t mean to.
Holly looked at the readout on the phone, turned to look at Dalton and laughed as she picked up the receiver.
‘How may I help you, Deputy?’ she asked in a mock-serious voice.
‘You wanna have dinner tonight? There’s something I want to show you.’
‘Sure. What do you want to show me?’
‘It’s a surprise,’ he said. ‘Where do you want to eat?’
‘How about my place? I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way home.’
‘Why don’t we do that together, after the surprise,’ Dalton said, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Why not?’
We had a lot of work to do before the ship docked in Galveston. Jean took her scooter and the boys up to the pool level for them to go swimming, while I stayed in the security area to work out what to do with Chief Heinrich. We sat in his office, coffee mugs in front of both of us, the chief leaning back in his big old leather chair while I tried to get comfortable in a small visitor’s chair that at least had arms.
‘Do you think there is a possibility that Clifford Dunne had anything to do with the boy’s death?’ the chief asked me.
‘I thought he thought the younger kids did it. Did he change his mind?’ I asked.
Heinrich shook his head. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’
‘You think we should talk with him?’
Heinrich appeared to think about that for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and sat his chair up closer to the desk. ‘Can’t hurt,’ he said, then hit a button on his phone and said into it, ‘Clive, find passenger Clifford Dunne for me, please. Bring him to my office.’
‘Yes, sir,’ came the disembodied voice of Clive, who had an English accent that went well with his name.
‘What else?’ Heinrich said, looking at me. ‘I was serious when I said you had more experience with murder investigations than I have. I’ve been a ship’s security chief for twenty-five years, and in all that time I’ve never had anything even close to a murder.’
‘What’s close to a murder?’ I asked.
He thought about that for a moment. ‘Assault, I’d say. Rape or a serious beating. Not on my watch.’
‘Well, I gotta say you’ve been lucky. Dealing with all these people on vacation, all the booze floating around, all the pretty women in bathing suits.’
‘I’m not saying it hasn’t happened,’ he said. ‘I am just saying it has not been reported.’
I nodded my head. ‘I hear what you’re saying. Lot of women don’t want to report it, especially if they drank a little too much and were flirting – they think it’s their fault. One thing I’ve already been teaching my boy is when a girl says no, you stop what you’re doing. Girls need to know it’s not their fault, but boys need to be taught that no means no.’
‘That’s true,’ he said.
‘I saw you send some guys out during the meeting. I assume it was to check the Weaver boys’ cabin for Dunne’s money,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ Heinrich said. He looked up at the window of his office to see the two men he’d sent come in the door. ‘And I believe we are about to get the answer to that.’
One of the men came in and saluted Heinrich. I thought that was carrying the faux navy stuff a bit far, but what do I know?
‘Chief,’ said a swarthy guy with a heavy accent. All I can say is it wasn’t Mexican. That accent I recognize. This was different. ‘We searched the cabin and found ten dollars in the boy’s wallet, nothing else.’
‘Thank you, Papademetriou,’ Heinrich said and Papa-whatever saluted again and backed out of the door.
‘Papa-what?’ I said.
‘Papademetriou,’ Heinrich said. ‘He is from Athens.’
‘As in Greece?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ Heinrich said. ‘Now, we know that Josh Weaver did not hide the money in his cabin. Where else would he hide it?’
‘Damned if I know,’ I said. ‘Where else could he? Not like he had free reign of the ship—’
Heinrich made a rude sound. ‘Well, he certainly seemed to think he did!’
A buzzer sounded on his desk. He hit the button he’d been talking to Clive on and said, ‘Yes?’
‘Chief? I have Mr Dunne for you,’ Clive, or another English accent, said.
‘Send him in,’ Heinrich said.
We both stood up when the door opened and a sailor-suited security guard let in Clifford Dunne. He looked a little more respectable today, wearing Bermuda shorts and a Polo shirt. He was also wearing black wingtips with white socks pulled up to his knees. I said respectable, I didn’t say good.
‘You find out who robbed me? You got my money?’ Dunne said as he entered.
‘Please sit down, Mr Dunne,’ Heinrich said, indicating the chair next to me. ‘I’m not sure you met Mr Kovak formally when you were accusing his children of having robbed you.’ Dunne made a noise that wasn’t pleasant. Heinrich went on: ‘But other than being the father of one of the boys, he is also the sheriff of a county in Oklahoma, taking a vacation with his family.’
‘Well, wooptifuck,’ Dunne said. ‘Why’d you have me dragged down here to hear this?’
‘Sheriff Kovak is assisting me with the murder,’ the chief said.
That shut Dunne’s mouth for almost thirty seconds. Then he said, ‘Murder? What murder?’
‘The boy who actually robbed you was found dead,’ Heinrich said.
‘Ha!’ Dunne said. ‘Good for him! You find my money?’
‘Not yet, no,’ Heinrich said. ‘But the question has arisen regarding the possibility that you may have taken matters into your own hands.’
‘Do what?’ Dunne said, looking slightly perplexed. Then, having obviously worked through what Heinrich said, continued, ‘You think I— What the fuck? Are you out of your mind?’ he said, jumping up. ‘I’m the victim here! I’m the one who was hit on the head, knocked to the stairs, robbed and left for dead!’
‘I don’t think anyone wanted to kill you,’ I said. ‘You were moaning pretty good when the younger children found you. And, by the way, saved your ass.’
‘Or were fixing to rob me more if I hadn’t stopped them!’ Dunne said, turning on me.
‘Sit down, Mr Dunne!’ Chief Heinrich said in a very stern voice. Hell, I would have sat down to that voice. So did Dunne. ‘We are not forgetting that you were a victim. But that does beg the question: did you ever meet or see Josh Weaver?’
Dunne was already shaking his head. ‘Who’s that? Is that who died? Was he the kid who robbed me? How old was he? Because I remember little hands—’
‘The little hands you remember may have been from when the little kids were trying to help you—’ I started, but Dunne interrupted.
‘No! I distinctly remember little hands going in my jacket pocket and pulling out the money!’
‘The boy who died was fourteen, but he did have younger children helping him,’ Heinrich said. ‘Those were probably the smaller hands.’
‘How old were those boys?’ Dunne asked.
‘Eleven,’ Heinrich supplied.
Dunne was shaking his head. ‘No, I’ve got a ten-year-old girl, and her hands aren’t as small as the ones stealing my money. These were tiny hands!’ Dunne said.
Heinrich and I looked at each other. The younger Connelly kid – Jacob. He was only seven. Between Josh and Jacob’s older brother Trip, the two must have bullied the child into it. I thought I might ask Jean to have a get together with the young boy.
Heinrich stood up. ‘That will be all, Mr Dunne. Thank you so much for coming by.’ He moved to the door and opened it. To Clive he said, ‘Please see that Mr Dunne gets back to his cabin.’
Clive said, ‘Yes, sir,’ just as Dunne said, ‘Forget it! I don’t need a guide!’ And stormed out of the security office.
So Emmett drove the twenty-something miles to Tejas County to see Bill Williams in person. He called first to make sure Bill would be there and got there just in time for lunch.
The Tejas County Sheriff’s Department had moved out of the small downtown area of Elucid, the county seat of Tejas County, to a new building in what they called ‘the metroplex,’ which wasn’t much more than a strip mall with the sheriff’s office at one end and the county food bank at the other, with a couple of county welfare-type places in between. Emmett noticed that he passed a nice-looking Mexican food place on his way to Bill’s shop.
‘You had lunch?’ Emmett asked after he and Bill shook hands.
‘Not yet. You like Mexican?’
‘Does the Pope shit in the woods? That place I passed on my way?’ Emmett asked.
‘That’s the one.’
They headed out in Emmett’s car, although the Mexican restaurant wasn’t more than a couple of city blocks away. Once inside, menus perused, orders taken and sweet ice teas laid down, Emmett said, ‘Guess you heard about old Darby Hunt?’
‘That he got himself wacked? Yeah, I heard that. Was expecting a call from you,’ Bill said.
Emmett felt himself flushing. ‘Sorry about that. Haven’t been in charge in a long time, sort of got the better of me.’
‘So who’re your suspects? Other than the entire McDaniel family, of course.’
Emmett shook his head. ‘He had a girlfriend, and then there’s his family, but that’s about it. I was wondering about her family here in Tejas County?’
Bill shook his own head. ‘You mean Cheryl’s? Never was much of a presence. The senior McDaniels moved here after their kids were grown, but they’re both gone,’ he said.
‘Anybody else you can think of?’
‘Well, now, seems Cheryl had a girlfriend, you know, best friend kind of thing, who lived here with her husband. She was pretty shook up over the whole thing, threatened Hunt right back at the trial – when he threatened her family.’ He laughed. ‘I remember it like it was yesterday. Little thing, maybe five-two, ninety pounds dripping wet, blonde and blue. Hunt starts his crap and she comes flying out of the gallery, her husband trying to catch her, and she says, “You’re a dead man! I’m gonna kill you myself!” And then she called him names I’d blush to repeat.’
‘Hell, Bill! She sounds like a winner!’ Emmett said.
Bill shrugged. ‘Her and her family moved to Oregon about a year after. Saw her mama at the Piggly Wiggly the other day, said Dora has five kids now and is as big as a barn.’ He shook his head. ‘Shame, when you think about it.’
‘What? Her getting fat, or not being around for me to accuse?’ Emmett asked.
Again Bill shrugged his shoulders. ‘Both,’ he said. ‘So what’s with the girlfriend? And why do women do that, anyway?’ Bill asked. ‘I mean, there are plenty of meanass men out here free as a bird if they want a bad boy.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe these women just want the allure of a bad guy, not the real thing,’ Emmett said. ‘When they’re behind bars they can’t hurt you, right?’
‘Right,’ Bill said.
Which made Emmett think: was that it? Was Reba Sinclair worried, now that her beloved was out, that he’d start the same crap with her that he had with his wife? That her life was in peril? Did she decide to strike first? Was the principal of Petal’s school an excellent shot?
‘You’re paying, right?’ Emmett said as he got up and threw some ones on the table. ‘For the tip. Gotta get back to my county.’ And with that, he was out the door, figuring Bill could use the walk back to his shop.
When I got to our suite, Jean and the boys were back from swimming and had changed clothes. The boys were playing some game that involved ninjas (the one word I heard), and were secure in their part of the suite, so I sat next to Jean on the bed.
‘Heinrich and I figured out that the younger Connelly boy – Jacob, I think?’
Jean nodded her head. ‘Yes, Trip’s the older one.’
‘OK, Jacob. Anyway, he’s the one who actually took the money out of Clifford Dunne’s jacket pocket.’
‘Oh, Lord,’ Jean said.
‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘Maybe you should have a talk with him?’
‘I’ll call Rose this evening,’ Jean said. ‘Maybe we can talk after dinner.’
But before she could make that call, we got a call on the ship’s phone from Lucy Tulia, inviting us to the dining room for the early seating at a large table with everyone involved, except, she said, the senior Mr and Mrs Connelly.
So we got the boys dressed in something a little nicer than shorts and T-shirts, Jean put on a sundress and I wore a jacket, and we went to the dining room. We were escorted to a huge round table. We weren’t the first. Esther Monte, her new, for want of a better word, boyfriend, Lance Turner, and her daughter Lyssa were all seated, as were Vern and Crystal Weaver; his son Ryan was sequestered in their cabin. The four of us sat down, with Early taking the seat next to Lyssa and Johnny Mac taking the seat on the end with me and Jean in the middle. I was slightly curious why he didn’t sit next to Early, when the Tulias showed up and Janna ran straight for the chair next to Johnny Mac. The grin he gave off went from ear to ear. I swear the boy was advanced for his age – only ten and already in love. I’d have to keep a strict eye on him to make sure there was no kissing going on. Way too young for that!
Mike and Lucy parked next to their daughter. A few minutes later, Rose Connelly showed up with her youngest son, Jacob, filling the table. Her older boy, like Vern Weaver’s youngest, was sequestered in his cabin. We busied ourselves with looking at the menu and ordering. Lance got up and headed for the restrooms, and the senior Mr Connelly came in to say something to Rose. As he left, I noticed he whispered something in Esther’s ear. She didn’t seem to like it but did not reply.
There were always some of the same things on the menu – like steak, shrimp cocktail, Caesar salad, etc., but the main items changed every night. That night I ordered bacon-wrapped shrimp with water chestnut and jalapeño for an appetizer, a soup of lobster bisque instead of a salad, beef Wellington with a side of broccoli gratin, and poached pears for dessert. Though I got to say, the strawberry shortcake that Johnny Mac and Janna shared looked mighty tasty.
It had been decided on the phone that we’d let the kids go to the children’s pavilion, but that one of the parents would escort them there and that the sitters would be told the kids were not to leave without a parent. Mike and I were elected to do the honors.
It took about fifteen minutes to get them there and get back to the dining room.
On the way back, Mike said, ‘So, Milt, what do you think?’
‘Huh?’ I said.
‘About all this crap – Josh being murdered, our kids being taught how to steal—’
I shook my head. ‘I think our kids handled it pretty well,’ I said. ‘Early was pretty smart in spending his money and lying to Josh and, although Johnny Mac said he didn’t have enough money to buy anything in that jewelry store, my take is he didn’t think about it. But he did steal the only thing in the store that cost less than a dollar, and that toy that Janna took was practically a give-away, little more than a dollar. So I think their upbringing paid off, is what I think, Mike. As for Josh’s murder, I don’t know if it had something to do with Clifford Dunne’s five thousand or not. Maybe Dunne found out it was Josh – how I don’t know and it seems unlikely – or somebody else found out Josh had that kind of money on him and wanted it for themselves.’
Mike was nodding his head. ‘Reasonable deductions,’ he said and grinned at me. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but I feel sorta like Watson to your Sherlock.’
‘Sorry, no cocaine on me,’ I said.
By the time we got back to the table, a new bottle of wine was being passed around. We got there just in time. Everyone was in high spirits, except poor old Vern. Crystal was paying little attention to him, instead flirting with Esther’s date, Lance.
After Esther’s third glass of wine, she said, ‘Crystal, honey, I think you’d be doing more good taking care of your husband rather than trying to romance my shipboard romance!’
Crystal bristled and Lance laughed, leaning over and kissing Esther, who laughed with him.
‘You OK, baby?’ Crystal said to Vern.
‘I’m fine, honey,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘I think maybe I’ll go back to the cabin.’
‘You want me to go with you?’ Crystal asked. Her tone was saying, ‘No you don’t, no you don’t.’
‘Naw, honey, you stay. I’m gonna be fine, just need a little alone time.’ Vern stood up and wandered off.
To the rest of the table, Crystal said, ‘He’ll be OK. This has just been a real shock to him.’
Esther and Lance were still sucking face when I said, ‘Anybody come up with any ideas about who might have done in poor old Josh?’
‘Poor old Josh?’ Lucy said. ‘I don’t think that’s appropriate, Milt. I think it should be “that little shit Josh.”’
‘Now, honey—’ Mike started, but Lucy was having none of it.
‘He was trying to get our kids to steal! He did get some of them to!’ she said, looking at Rose.
Rose sighed, tears coming to her eyes. ‘Milt told me earlier that they’ve figured out from talking to the man who was mugged—’
‘Clifford Dunne,’ I said.
‘Mr Dunne, that Jacob was the one who actually took the money, egged on or bullied into it by Josh and my son Trip. Jacob stopped sucking his thumb when he was three. I caught him yesterday morning and this morning with his thumb in his mouth when he was still asleep. I couldn’t understand why until this all came out.’
Lucy reached over and took Rose’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to accuse you or your boys—’
‘But they did it,’ Rose said. She lifted her head high and said, ‘My father-in-law has told me that when we get back home he plans to take a more active role in the boys’ lives. Turn them into good little soldiers. I guess I’ll be moving out.’
We were all turned to Rose, hearing the shocking news, when there was a sound from across the table. Lance Turner was holding his throat and making a retching sound.
‘Lance?’ Esther said. ‘Lance, are you OK? Baby, what’s wrong?’
He tried to stand up, hit the table, backed into his chair, knocking it over, then collapsed on the floor. Everybody ran to him and Jean said, ‘Move out of the way. I’m a doctor. Milt, call for the medics.’
She got down on the floor and ripped Lance’s shirt open. Some kind of froth was emitting from his mouth. Jean checked his pulse. Then she leaned forward, as if to smell his breath.
‘Please, would someone help me up?’ I was still on the phone so Mike and Lucy got her to her feet. ‘Esther!’ she said.
‘Don’t stop!’ Esther cried. ‘Make him better! Do CPR!’
Jean grabbed Esther’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, Esther. He’s dead. Which wine glass was his?’
‘What? Dead? No, he can’t be dead!’
‘Which wine glass was his?’ Jean insisted. ‘Esther! It’s import-ant! Which wine glass was his?’
Esther shook her head, then looked at Jean. ‘Which wine glass?’ She looked around the table. ‘This one,’ she said, starting to pick it up.
‘Don’t!’ Jean said. Then she grabbed one of the cloth napkins still on the table and picked the wine glass up herself, holding it to her nose.
I finished my call and asked her, ‘What is it?’
‘Cyanide,’ she said.
I leaned down to smell the glass. ‘Bitter almonds,’ I said.
Emmett radioed in to Holly and got a home address for Reba Sinclair, the principal at the Christian school. She lived within walking distance of the school, on Pine Bluff Drive, where there were no pines and not a bluff in sight. Her house was a typical seventies ranch, a three-bedroom MIL plan, with red brick veneer and newly painted white trim. It had a small front porch with hanging baskets of plants drooping from the eaves and big potted plants taking up most of the floor space. He made his way gingerly to the front door and rang the bell. He could hear movement inside the house, so waited. It only took a minute or two for the curtain on the glass of the front window to move slightly and expose one of Ms Sinclair’s myopic blue eyes. Seeing him, she opened the door.
While at the school she’d been wearing a cream-colored suit, skirt to the knee, buttoned to the throat, sensible shoes. Her home attire was a tad different: Daisy Dukes and a tube top, and barefoot. One look and he could see why Darby Hunt might be interested; the woman may have been unattractive from the neck up, but damn if she didn’t have a body by Buick, Emmett thought.
‘Deputy?’ she said, hand on jutted-out hip, obviously aware of Emmett’s observation.
‘Ma’am, a few more questions, if you don’t mind,’ Emmett said.
‘But I do mind,’ she said, and started to close her door.
Emmett put out his foot to stop the door from closing. ‘Ma’am, I’ll be happy to wait out here while you call your lawyer to come over, but one way or the other, you and I are having a talk tonight.’
Reba Sinclair sighed heavily but let up her pressure on the door. Emmett wiggled his toes, hoping to get the circulation going again. Like her former future mother-in-law’s house, the front door led directly into the living room. Emmett couldn’t help noticing that the room was like Reba Sinclair herself: good bones, but unattractive. It was a big room with a nice fireplace and mantel, and an alcove above the mantel, which was empty. The room was brown on brown with some beige thrown in for, he supposed, color. Everything was old and all but used up, and the place smelled kind of funny to Emmett’s way of thinking.
The living room held a brown couch in that nubby material he hadn’t seen around since the eighties, a matching love seat and arm chair, and three matching Formica-topped tables – two end, one coffee. There were no pictures or anything else on the walls; no books or magazines on the tables, not even an ashtray. And that wasn’t the smell. It wasn’t stale cigarette smoke. It was something worse than that – a sad smell, a smell of failure, of dreams lost. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it made him itchy – uncomfortable, ready to leave. Instead he sat down on the sofa as Reba Sinclair indicated.
‘What do you want?’ she asked him, perching on the tip of the arm chair. ‘I thought I answered all of your questions.’
‘Well, ma’am, it’s an ongoing investigation, so new questions keep coming up,’ Emmett said, realizing she had legs about seven miles long and shapely to boot. He tried looking elsewhere, and settled on her face.
‘Such as?’ she asked, lips pursed, back ramrod straight.
‘Such as, do you know any of Mr Hunt’s wife’s family who live here in Longbranch?’
‘No! Why would I?’
‘I don’t know that you would, ma’am. I’m just asking. His daughter’s a school teacher, perhaps you’ve met her?’
‘Didn’t I just say I hadn’t?’
‘I suppose you did,’ Emmett said, wishing he’d thought a little bit longer about things before he’d hightailed it over here. ‘Did Mr Hunt ever talk to you about them?’
‘Only to say they all hated him. Had since he and Cheryl were kids! He said Cheryl fell down one time and broke her nose, and they blamed him for it. So every time she got a boo-boo, she’d say it was him!’
Emmett felt his hands tightening on the clipboard in his hand. ‘You wanna see the pictures of her the last time she got out of the hospital?’ he said through clinched teeth.
‘Ha!’ Reba Sinclair said. ‘He told me she faked some photos! She was very devious.’
‘But he didn’t deny killing her?’ Emmett asked.
‘The poor baby just had more than he could take! All the things she was saying about him, the way the family acted and the lies they told! And then taking his little girl away from him! It looked like the judge was going to grant Cheryl total custody – with Darby only getting supervised visitation! Now how would you take that, Deputy? Would you just sit still for that type of injustice or would you perhaps go just a little bit nuts and act out?’ She squared her shoulders and looked off into the distance. ‘That’s what happened to my Darby. He said he just lost it. Didn’t even know he’d done it until it was all over. He said it was like watching someone else doing that, not him.’
Jeez, Emmett thought, how many times had he heard that one? And the thing was, sometimes it was true. Didn’t make the perpetrator any less guilty, though. But this time? With Darby Hunt? Naw, he knew exactly what he was doing – just like every other time he hurt her.
Well, he thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. ‘Ma’am, I’m just wondering if maybe when he got out, you two got together and he wasn’t the man you thought he was—’
‘I haven’t even seen him yet, Deputy!’ she said in a high, loud voice. ‘I sent him those presents and he was going to come see me, tonight, as a matter of fact. Tonight we would have consummated our eighteen-month love affair.’ She put her face in her hands and began to sob.
Emmett didn’t truck with bawling women, so he excused himself and headed back to the shop. Wondering if he actually believed her – or anyone else in this case, truth be known.
Once back at his – Milt’s – desk, he picked up the phone and called the state police, asking for the whereabouts of Steve McDaniel, Dave McDaniel’s oldest son who used to work for Emmett at the police department in Longbranch. After a bit of a runaround, he was finally put through to Steve.
‘Goddam,’ Steve said, ‘is this really Emmett Hopkins of Longbranch, Oklahoma?’
‘In the flesh,’ Emmett said, then, ‘well, maybe not the flesh, but it’s my voice.’
‘Getting too literal for me, Emmett. How the hell are you? Calling about Darby Hunt, I betcha,’ Steve said.
‘I’m fine. And, yeah, I’m calling about Darby Hunt.’
‘I didn’t kill him,’ Steve said. ‘If I coulda guaranteed I’d never get caught, I’da done it in a heartbeat, but can’t get any guarantees on murdering somebody. Even somebody as evil as Darby Hunt.’
‘You think somebody in your family did it?’ Emmett asked.
Steve hooted with laughter. ‘Jeez, Emmett, what a question! If I did, you think I’d tell you? No, I don’t think somebody in my family did it, and you wanna know why?’
‘Why?’ Emmett asked.
‘’Cause nobody in my family is that stupid. That asshole gets killed, and who’re the first people you look at? My family, that’s who!’
‘Your cousin Malcolm didn’t seem all that bright,’ Emmett offered.
‘Malcolm? Shit, Emmett, he’s a little light in the loafers, but there’s not a mean bone in that boy’s body. He’s a good kid with a homophobe for a dad. Don’t make him out to be a murderer, for God’s sake! Actually, he’s the least likely in my family to do it, and I don’t believe we’re living an Agatha Christie novel here,’ Steve said.
‘Huh?’
‘Don’t you read? Agatha Christie, the great English mystery writer? It was always the least likely suspect who did it.’ He sighed at Emmett’s ignorance. ‘Anyway, Malcolm didn’t do it.’
‘OK, who’s the most likely suspect?’ Emmett asked.
‘Well, me, of course!’ Steve laughed. ‘Look, Emmett, it’s been a blast talking to you and all, but I got a shit-pile of work here. Good luck. When you find the hero who did this, let’s pin a medal on him, OK?’ And with that, he hung up.
Dalton needed to go do a security check at the little mall in Jasper. One of the stores’ alarms had gone off in the middle of the night but when Anthony had responded to the alarm (he’d been on-call), nothing was out of the way. Emmett told Anthony to go on home and that he’d have it checked out the next day. Well, today was the next day and Dalton was the one doing the checking. He wasn’t crazy about this particular chore, since he wasn’t that up on electronic things, but he’d do it, and stay on it until it was done right, even if it took a day or two.
Once at the mall – a square of shops opening on to an open-air courtyard with a fountain, with parking at the back of the stores – the first thing Dalton saw was a jewelry store. With that incentive, he was able to fix the problem with the alarm in less than an hour, and five minutes later was standing in front of a cabinet full of engagement rings.
‘She’s got real small hands,’ Dalton said in answer to the clerk’s question of what size his soon-to-be fiancée wore. Dalton looked at the ring of ring sizes, comparing them to his own large hand. He’d looked at her fingers entwined with his enough to know exactly what size they were. He picked it out first try. Then the clerk, a woman even older than his mother, wanted to know what size diamond.
‘Well, I want it big enough to show off, but not so big it looks showy, you know?’
‘How’s this?’ the clerk asked, holding up a one-and-a-half-karat pear-shaped solitaire already set in a gold band. ‘Very traditional,’ she said.
Dalton peaked at the price tag. ‘Maybe a one karat, forget about the half?’ he suggested to the clerk. ‘She’s not traditional, and she doesn’t wear a lot of gold. Mostly she wears silver.’
‘How about this?’ the clerk said, pulling out a baguette one karat. ‘This is platinum rather than silver, but they match in color.’
It was really beautiful, Dalton thought, but it just wasn’t Holly. And then he saw it. It was in another case, the one next to the engagement rings. ‘That one!’ he said.
The clerk raised her eyebrows. ‘This one?’ she said, going to the next display case and opening it. She put her hand on the ring and Dalton nodded. ‘Son, this isn’t a traditional engagement ring—’
‘Holly’s not traditional,’ he said, smiling at the clerk. ‘She’s one of a kind.’
The clerk smiled back. ‘Well, so is this ring. It was made by the owner’s son and it’s been in that display cabinet for five years.’ She brought it out and handed it to Dalton. Pointing out each facet, she said, ‘The center stone is a two-karat ruby, and the surrounding stones are emeralds and diamonds, with opals and other precious stones.’
The stones were in a mound shape, with smaller stones cascading down the silver band. ‘This is it,’ he said.
The clerk told him a number, and he didn’t even flinch. The number was higher than the one-and-a-half-karat diamond, but it didn’t matter. This was the one.