“She absolutely refuses.” Maida scrubbed the plate so hard that Drayco expected to see bits of glaze and paint go flying through the air. She continued, “And I thought Lucy was stubborn. Virginia says she’s always lived in that house, and she doesn’t want to go anywhere else.”
Sheriff Sailor pushed a pen back and forth on the kitchen table. The lawman was pressed into duty after the attack yesterday, corralling the crowds and taking witness statements. He slept as much as Drayco last night, which is to say, not much. Yet here he was, dark under-eye circles and all, taking the time to stop by the inn around lunchtime.
Sailor asked Maida, “She turned down your offer to stay here at the Crab?”
“She says no one has attacked her at home.” Maida picked up a glass, but it slipped and shattered in the sink. “Damn. I think I’m more upset than she is. Though I did see her trembling. Underneath that bravado of hers, she’s one scared little girl.”
When Drayco talked to Reece over the phone earlier, he said Lucy was reluctant for him to stay the night, despite his insistence. “So did you?” Drayco asked him.
“I camped out in my car, keeping watch on their house.” Drayco didn’t have the heart to tell him Sailor had appointed a junior deputy to do the same thing.
The phone rang, and Maida excused herself, leaving Drayco and the sheriff alone. At the right of Sailor’s hand lay a piece of key lime pie untouched. Drayco pointed to it. “I guess you took advantage of those therapy coupons I sent along. Looks like your pie addiction is history.”
The sheriff picked up his fork and started pushing the plate around. “I’m using a pie patch. Helps you taper naturally.”
Sailor managed a brief smile. “Are you sure you heard someone yell out ‘he’s got a gun’ before the bang, Drayco? It’s not that I don’t trust you. Other witnesses heard everything from ‘it’s just begun’ to ‘isn’t this fun.’”
Drayco pointed to his ears. “I may not use these for a living anymore, but they’re still in good shape. I’m positive a man’s voice mentioned the gun before the fireworks went off.”
“And gave himself a chance to push Virginia in the confusion.”
“Himself or an accomplice, yes. Did you trace the firecrackers?”
“It’ll be hard. We found remnants of M80s. They may be illegal but fairly easy to come by.”
“Also easy to make. Some flash powder, a tube, end caps, some visco fuse.”
“Exactly.”
“At least Virginia is certain she was pushed this time.” Reece had come to the same conclusion. As he told Drayco, the stampeding crowds wrenched the girl and wheelchair away from Reece and Lucy. But it was unlikely that alone was enough to steamroll the chair over the edge of the pier.
The sheriff jabbed his fork in the pie, leaving it standing straight up. “I’m motivationally-challenged here. Maybe some lunatic’s personal eugenics plan. I doubt a neo-Nazi type would target Virginia primarily. And we’ve had no similar attacks on the handicapped or minorities. Just Arnold Sterling.”
“If the Sterlings’ deaths and attack on Virginia are linked, it offers more possibilities for that motive.”
“Yeah, that’s a pet theory of yours. Got any candidates I don’t know about? It would save digging in the wrong backyards.”
Pulling out a deck of cards from his pocket, Drayco shuffled and cut the cards with one hand. At Sailor’s raised eyebrows, he said, “For when drumming my fingers gets on people’s nerves.”
“And that card thing doesn’t?”
“Sleight of hand can break the ice in awkward situations.” He moved the cards from one hand to another. “I learned card tricks as a way to keep the muscles in my hands and arms toned up for piano practice. Makes great therapy.”
“I’ll add that to your list of talents.”
Drayco tossed the Ace of Spades on the kitchen table. “To answer your question about leading candidates, there’s always Cape Unity’s citizen of the year, Caleb Quintier. He had his tentacles around both Arnold Sterling and Cole Harston.”
“Lucy swears Quintier hasn’t pressed her for money. No threats, no intimidation, no contact whatsoever.”
Drayco flicked three Jokers onto the table. “Sterling and Harston, along with Freaky Farland, were all caught up in that gambling ring years ago. More money connections.”
“You really think gambling is the ticket?”
Out came the Jack of Spades. “Virginia’s father Cole has a lot of holes in his background. He traveled around in the construction business and was gone a lot. Might have succumbed to temptation in some far-flung locale and sold a piece of his soul to the devil.”
“Swell. I’ll put out an APB for satanic foremen. Also per your suggestion, I ran a check on Faris Usher. No record.”
Drayco pitched out the Queen of Hearts. “Beth is at the center of all of this. We have to find out how.”
Sailor grunted. “That second ledger you found hasn’t led anywhere. I’ve started checking up on the names you wrote down. All I discovered is how many irresponsible fathers we have. It’s a game—knock a girl up, then run as fast as you can.”
“A game where everyone loses.” Cape Unity didn’t seem to have a large pool of paternal role models, Cole Harston and Freaky Farland not shining examples. Then again, Drayco’s father, Brock, never considered his long absences and detached style of parenting as neglect, either.
Sailor fingered the Queen of Hearts card. “A chat with Cole Harston’s sister may dig up familial dirt. The two were estranged, but I found a phone number to try.”
Drayco hopped up to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Estranged, as in hostile? Or drifted apart?”
“Hard to tell. Lucy says she hasn’t talked with the woman since before Virginia’s birth. So Cole’s sister never met her niece.”
“Virginia could use a friendly relative or two.”
“You got that right.” Sailor studied the pie as if it was out to get him. “It’s going to be impossible to compare those in attendance at the pier with the Fourth of July bash. Barry Farland was one of the few we can pinpoint both places. He was a little too helpful with those car reports. His father has both motive and a rap sheet. Barry and Freaky could be working together.”
“Maybe with the attacks on the Sterlings, but Virginia? They seem genuinely fond of her.”
“To be safe, I’m going to bring them both in for questioning.”
Sailor took a bite of pie, not bothering to chew it more than a couple times. “So, since you said Cape Unity was a dead end as far as being connected to your D.C. murders, why are you still here? Not that I’m pushing you out. You do have your uses.”
Drayco reached over and forked a piece of the pie himself. It was up to Maida’s usual high standards, but he wasn’t hungry, either. “There’s the matter of the goon who tried to send me in a body bag to the M.E. and this second attack on Virginia.”
“You’ll be sticking around?”
“A few days more.”
Sailor said, “Hmm,” and took another bite of pie. “Know how you can tell this is genuine key lime pie and not that artificial goo? It’s not green. And it has a baked crust, not that graham-cracker rubbish.”
Drayco leaned back. “And there you have it folks—Sheriff Ernest Hemingway Sailor, friend to pies and P.I.’s everywhere.”