10

Lena traced her finger along the street map in her lap. “Left here,” she told Brad.

He did as he was told, steering the cruiser onto Baker Street. Brad was okay, but he tended to take people at face value, which is why back at the station when Lena said she had to go to the bathroom, then headed the exact opposite direction of the women’s room, he hadn’t said anything. A joke around the station house was to hide Brad’s patrolman’s hat from him. At Christmas, they had stuck it on top of one of the reindeer on display in front of city hall. A month ago, Lena had spotted the hat on top of the statue of Robert E. Lee in front of the high school.

Lena knew Jeffrey partnering her with Brad Stephens was his way of keeping her at the periphery of the investigation. If she had to guess, she would say that every man on their list was either dead or too old to stand up without help.

“The next right,” she said, folding the map. She had sneaked into Marla’s office and looked up Will Harris’s address in the phone book during her alleged trip to the bathroom. Jeffrey would interview Pete first. Lena wanted a crack at Will Harris before her chief could get to him.

“Right here,” Lena said, indicating he could pull over. “You can stay here.”

Brad slowed the car, putting his fingers to his mouth. “What’s the address?”

“Four-thirty-one,” she said, spotting the mailbox. She slipped off her seat belt and opened her door before the car came to a complete stop. She was walking up the driveway by the time Brad caught up with her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trotting alongside her like a puppy. “Lena?”

She stopped, putting her hand in her pocket. “Listen, Brad, just go back to the car.” She was two ranks above him. Technically, Brad was supposed to follow her orders. This thought seemed to cross his mind, but he shook his head no.

He said, “This is Will Harris’s place, isn’t it?”

Lena turned her back to him, continuing up the driveway.

Will Harris’s house was small, probably little more than two rooms and a bath. The clapboard was painted bright white and the lawn was neatly tended. There was a well-tended look to the place that set Lena on edge. She could not think that the person who lived in this house could do such a thing to her sister.

Lena knocked on the screen door. She could hear a television inside, and distant movement. Through the screen mesh, she could see a man struggling to get out of his chair. He was wearing a white undershirt and white pajama pants. A puzzled expression was on his face.

Unlike most people who worked in town, Lena wasn’t a regular at the diner. Somewhere in the back of her mind Lena had considered the diner Sibyl’s territory and hadn’t wanted to intrude. Lena had never really met Will Harris. She had been expecting someone younger. Someone more menacing. Will Harris was an old man.

When he finally reached the door and saw Lena, his lips parted in surprise. Neither spoke for a moment, then Will finally said, “You must be her sister.”

Lena stared at the old man. She knew in her gut that Will Harris had not killed her sister, but there was still the possibility that he knew who had.

She said, “Yes, sir. Do you mind if I come in?”

The hinge on the screen door screeched as it opened. He stepped aside, holding the door open for Lena.

“You gotta excuse my appearance,” he said, indicating his pajamas. “I wasn’t exactly expecting visitors.”

“That’s okay,” Lena offered, glancing around the small room. The living room and kitchen space were blended, a couch delineating the two. There was a square hallway off the left through which Lena could see a bathroom. She guessed the bedroom was on the other side of the wall. Like the outside of the house, everything was neat and tidy, well cared for despite its age. A television dominated the living room. Surrounding the set were wall-to-wall bookcases packed with videos.

“I like to watch a lot of movies,” Will said.

Lena smiled. “Obviously.”

“Mostly, I like the old black and white ones,” the old man started, then turned his head toward the large picture window lining the front of the room. “Lord a’mighty,” he mumbled. “I seem to be real popular today.”

Lena suppressed a groan as Jeffrey Tolliver walked up the driveway. Either Brad had told on her or Pete Wayne had fingered Will.

“Morning, sir,” Will said, opening the screen door for Jeffrey.

Jeffrey gave him a nod, then shot Lena the kind of look that made her palms sweat.

Will seemed to sense the tension in the room. “I can go in the back if you need.”

Jeffrey turned to the old man and shook his hand. “No need, Will,” he said. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”

Will indicated the couch with a sweep of his hand. “Mind if I get me some more coffee?”

“No, sir,” Jeffrey answered, walking past Lena toward the couch. He fixed her with the same hard look, but Lena sat beside him anyway.

Will shuffled back to his chair, groaning as he sat. His knees popped and he smiled apologetically, explaining, “Spend most of my days on my knees in the yard.”

Jeffrey took out his notebook. Lena could almost feel the anger coming off of him. “Will, I’ve got to ask you some questions.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You know what happened at the diner yesterday?”

Will placed his coffee cup down on a small side table. “That girl never hurt nobody,” he said. “What was done to her—” He stopped, looking at Lena. “My heart goes out to you and your family, sweetheart. It really does.”

Lena cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Jeffrey had obviously been expecting a different response from her. His look changed, but she couldn’t make out what he was thinking. He turned back to Will. “You were at the diner until what time yesterday?”

“Oh, around one-thirty or a little before two, I think. I saw your sister,” he told Lena, “just as I was leaving.”

Jeffrey waited a few beats, then said, “You’re sure about that?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” Will returned. “I had to go pick up my auntie at the church. They get out of choir practice at two-fifteen sharp. She don’t like to wait.”

Lena asked, “Where does she sing?”

“The AME over in Madison,” he answered. “You ever been there?”

She shook her head, doing the math in her head. Even if Will Harris had been a viable suspect, there was no way he could have killed Sibyl, then made it to Madison in time to pick up his aunt. A quick phone call would give Will Harris an airtight alibi.

“Will,” Jeffrey began, “I hate to ask you about this, but my man Frank says there was some problem a while back.”

Will’s face dropped. He had been looking at Lena up until this point, but now he stared at the carpet. “Yes, sir, that’s right.” He looked over Jeffrey’s shoulder as he spoke. “My wife, Eileen. I used to go at her something bad. I guess it was before your time we got into a scuffle. Maybe eighteen, nineteen years ago.” He shrugged. “She left me after that. I guess I let the drink lead me down the wrong path, but I’m a good Christian man now. I don’t go in for all that. I don’t see my son much, but I see my daughter often as I can. She lives in Savannah now.” His smile came back. “I got two grandbabies.”

Jeffrey tapped his pen on the notebook. Lena could see over his shoulder that he had not written anything. He asked, “Did you ever take Sibyl her meals? In the diner, I mean.”

If he was surprised by the question, Will didn’t let it register. “I guess I did. Most days I help Pete out with things like that. His daddy kept a woman around to wait tables when he was running the place, but Pete,” he said, chuckling, “old Pete, he can hold on to a dollar.” Will waved his hand, dismissing the trouble. “It don’t hurt me none to fetch some ketchup or make sure somebody gets their coffee.”

Jeffrey asked, “Did you serve Sibyl tea?”

“Sometimes. Is there a problem?”

Jeffrey closed his notebook. “Not at all,” he said. “Did you see anyone suspicious hanging around the diner yesterday?”

“Lord God,” Will breathed. “I surely would’ve told you by now. It was just me and Pete there, and all the regulars for lunch.”

“Thank you for your time.” Jeffrey stood and Lena followed suit. Will shook first Jeffrey’s, then Lena’s hand.

He held on to hers a little longer, saying, “God bless you, girl. You take care now.”

 

“Goddamnit, Lena,” Jeffrey cursed, slamming his notebook into the dashboard of the car. The pages fluttered out, and Lena held her hands up in front of her to keep from getting whacked in the head. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Lena picked up the notebook off the floor. “I wasn’t thinking,” she answered.

“No fucking joke,” he snapped, grabbing the notebook.

His jaw was a tight line as he backed the car out of Will Harris’s driveway. Frank had gone back to the station with Brad while Lena had been practically thrown into Jeffrey’s car. He bumped the gear on the steering wheel column and the car jerked into drive.

“Why can’t I trust you?” he demanded. “Why can’t I trust you to do one thing I tell you to do?” He did not wait for her answer. “I sent you out with Brad to do something, Lena. I gave you a job on this investigation because you asked me, not because I thought you were in any position to do it. And what’s my reward for this? I’ve got Frank and Brad seeing you go behind my back like some teenager sneaking out of the house. Are you a fucking cop or are you a fucking kid?” He slammed on the brakes, and Lena felt her seat belt cutting into her chest. They were stopped in the middle of the road, but Jeffrey did not seem to notice.

“Look at me,” he said, turning to her. Lena did as she was told, trying to keep the fear out of her eyes. Jeffrey had been mad at her plenty of times, but never like this. If she had been right about Will Harris, Lena might have a leg to stand on; as it was, she was screwed.

“You have got to get your head on straight. Do you hear me?”

She gave a sharp nod.

“I can’t have you going around behind my back. What if he had done something to you?” He let that sink in. “What if Will Harris is the man who killed your sister? What if he opened his door, saw you, and freaked out?” Jeffrey slammed his fist into the steering wheel, hissing another curse. “You have got to do what I say, Lena. Is that clear? From now on.” He jabbed his finger in her face. “If I tell you to interview every ant on the playground, you bring me back signed depositions on each one. Is that clear?”

She managed to nod again. “Yeah.”

Jeffrey wasn’t satisfied. “Is that clear, Detective?”

“Yes, sir,” Lena repeated.

Jeffrey put the car back into gear. The tires caught as he accelerated, leaving a good deal of rubber on the road. Both hands gripped the wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. Lena kept quiet, hoping his anger would pass. He had every right to be pissed, but she did not know what to say. An apology seemed as useless as treating a toothache with honey.

Jeffrey rolled his window down, loosening his tie. Suddenly, he said, “I don’t think Will did it.”

Lena nodded her head up and down, afraid to open her mouth.

“Even if he did have this episode in his past,” Jeffrey began, anger coming back into his voice, “Frank failed to mention that this thing with his wife was twenty years ago.”

Lena was silent.

“Anyway”—Jeffrey waved this off—“even if he had it in him, he’s at least sixty, maybe seventy years old. He couldn’t even get into his chair, let alone overpower a healthy thirty-three-year-old woman.”

Jeffrey continued, “So that leaves us with Pete in the diner, right?” He didn’t wait for her answer; he was obviously just thinking aloud. “Only I called Tessa on the way over here. She got there a little before two o’clock. Will was gone, and Pete was the only one there. She said Pete stayed behind the cash register until she placed her order, then he grilled her burger.” Jeffrey shook his head. “He might’ve slipped into the back, but when? When did he have time? That’d take, what? Ten, fifteen minutes? Plus the planning. How did he know it would work out?” Again these questions seemed rhetorical. “And we all know Pete. I mean, Jesus, this isn’t the kind of thing a first-timer would pull.”

He was silent, obviously still thinking, and Lena left him alone. She stared out the window, processing what Jeffrey had said about Pete Wayne and Will Harris. An hour ago these two men had looked like good suspects to her. Now there was nobody. Jeffrey was right to be angry at her. She could have been out with Brad, tracking down the men on their list, maybe finding the man who had killed Sibyl.

Lena’s eyes focused on the houses they were driving by. At the turn, she checked the street sign, noting that they were on Cooper.

Jeffrey asked, “You think Nan will be home?”

Lena shrugged.

The smile he gave her said he was trying. “You can talk now, you know.”

Her lips came up, but she couldn’t quite return the smile. “Thanks.” Then, “I’m sorry about—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “You’re a good cop, Lena. You’re a damn good cop.” He pulled the car to the curb in front of Nan and Sibyl’s house. “You just need to start listening.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, but he did not seem angry anymore. “Your whole life has turned upside down and you don’t even know it yet.”

She started to speak then stopped.

Jeffrey said, “I understand needing to work on this, needing to keep your mind occupied, but you’ve got to trust me on this, Lena. If you ever cross that line with me again, I will bust you so low you’ll be fetching coffee for Brad Stephens. Is that clear?”

She managed to nod her head.

“Okay,” he said, opening the car door. “Let’s go.”

Lena took her time taking off her seat belt. She got out of the car, adjusting her gun and holster as she walked toward the house. By the time she reached the front door, Nan had already let Jeffrey in.

“Hey,” Lena offered.

“Hey,” Nan returned. She was holding a ball of tissue in her hand, the same as she had been last night. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was bright red.

“Hey,” Hank said.

Lena stopped. “What are you doing here?”

Hank shrugged, rubbing his hands together. He was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, and the needle tracks up his arms were on full display. Lena felt a rush of embarrassment. She had only seen Hank in Reece, where everybody knew about his past. She had seen the scars so many times that she had almost blocked them out. Now she was seeing them through Jeffrey’s eyes for the first time, and she wanted to run from the room.

Hank seemed to be waiting for Lena to say something. She stumbled, managing an introduction. “This is Hank Norton, my uncle,” she said. “Jeffrey Tolliver, chief of police.”

Hank held out his hand, and Lena cringed to see the raised scars on his forearms. Some of them were half an inch long in places where he had jabbed the needle into his skin, looking for a good vein.

Hank said, “How d’you do, sir.”

Jeffrey took the offered hand, giving it a firm shake. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

Hank clasped his hands in front of him. “Thank you for that.”

They were all silent, then Jeffrey said, “I guess you know why we’re here.”

“About Sibyl,” Nan answered, her voice a few octaves lower, probably from crying all night.

“Right,” Jeffrey said, indicating the sofa. He waited for Nan to sit, then took the space beside her. Lena was surprised when he took Nan’s hand and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Nan.”

Tears welled into Nan’s eyes. She actually smiled. “Thank you.”

“We’re doing everything we can to find out who did this,” he continued. “I want you to know if there’s anything else you need we’re here for you.”

She whispered another thank-you, looking down, picking at a string on her sweatpants.

Jeffrey asked, “Was anybody angry at you or Sibyl, do you know?”

“No,” Nan answered. “I told Lena last night. Everything’s been the same as usual lately.”

“I know that Sibyl and you chose to live kind of quietly,” Jeffrey said. Lena got his meaning. He was being a lot more subtle than she had been last night.

“Yeah,” Nan agreed. “We like it here. We’re both small-town people.”

Jeffrey asked, “You can’t think of anybody who might have figured something out?”

Nan shook her head. She looked down, her lips trembling. There was nothing else she could tell him.

“Okay,” he said, standing. He put his hand on Nan’s shoulder, indicating she should stay seated. “I’ll let myself out.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a card. Lena watched as he cupped it in one hand and wrote on the back. “This is my home number,” he said. “Call me if you think of anything.”

“Thank you,” Nan said, taking the card.

Jeffrey turned to Hank. “Do you mind giving Lena a ride home?”

Lena felt dumbstruck. She couldn’t stay here.

Hank was obviously taken aback as well. “No,” he mumbled. “That’s fine.”

“Good.” He patted Nan on the shoulder, then said to Lena, “You and Nan can take tonight to put together a list of the people Sibyl worked with.” Jeffrey gave Lena a knowing smile. “Be at the station at seven tomorrow morning. We’ll go over to the college before classes start.”

Lena didn’t understand. “Am I back with Brad?”

He shook his head. “You’re with me.”