Chapter Thirty
He brought the dog to my apartment. The animal eyed me and I eyed him. I think I won because he laid down on my kitchen floor and went right to sleep.
“What are we going to do with him? I don’t have room for a dog here.”
Hunter shrugged and spread his hands. “Nothing, I guess. Can’t leave him home. He howls and the neighbors call the sheriff.”
Hunter was hungry, as usual, and all I had were three eggs, a few slices of hard bread, lots of pecan butter, and a brick of cheese. The toast would only get harder in the toaster and the pecan butter would cover that. The cheese called for more toast. And a pitcher of sweet tea.
I made all of it while stepping back and forth across the dog, who awoke at the smell of food and sat next to Hunter’s chair.
“What do you call him?” I asked, giving the long-haired animal the fish-eye.
“Flasher. He answers to it—when he answers at all.”
“Where’d you get that name?”
“I used to have a dog named Flasher.”
“You name that one, too?”
He shook his head. “No. My mama did. Don’t know why.”
“So now you’ve got a second Flasher. Seems right for a cop.”
As we discussed the dog, his head swung back and forth—from Hunter to me and around again. I could have sworn he got what we were talking about, but then I decided he was clueless because I didn’t want to think of a dog as smart as I was.
“You staying the night?” I asked, the way I’d ask any friend to sleep over.
“Thought so. If you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Why should I mind?”
He nodded at the dog. “He’s kind of used to sleeping in bed with me.”
“I’ve only got one bed.”
“Maybe on the sofa then.”
“You and him? On my sofa?”
Hunter laughed. “No. You and me on the sofa. Flasher can have the bed.”
“You better be kidding.” I gave him a narrow look.
Hunter ate the eggs and toast and butter and all the cheese, then gave some to Flasher on a paper towel. He drank two glasses of tea and thanked me for the great meal—which reminded me what an easy guy he was to be with.
“Got more,” he said.
I took that for a question and shook my head—no more food.
“I’ve got more on the things we took out of Henry Wade’s room.”
“What’d you find?”
“That computer. Wiped clean like he was worried about somebody stealing it.”
“So no help.”
“Now, hold on a minute. Sheriff Higsby’s already got it going to Columbus. A computer forensics specialist will look at it tomorrow morning. He’ll get to the hard drive and pick up anything that’s on there. If Henry wanted to really hide something, he should have destroyed the whole thing. Taken a hammer to it.”
“What do you think there could be?”
He shrugged and moved to the sofa, taking his boots off, stretching his legs, and wriggling his toes. “What we’re hoping is that we’ll find a connection to Eugene. One of our men went through all Eugene’s records: sales and purchases. No Henry Wade there. ’Course Henry could’ve used a phony name. Next we’re talking to people in Eugene’s office in Dallas. See if there’s any record of a Henry Wade there. Maybe even in his secretary’s logbook. A phone call or something.” He paused to think a minute. “That gun of Wade’s was an AR15, like I thought. Assault rifle. One in seven twist.”
“But there wasn’t that much open space in Eugene’s gun room, was there? I mean, didn’t the shooter have to be pretty close?”
“Not if he stood in the doorway and shot. That table where Eugene was sitting was across the room. One shot to the back. There was a lot of damage.”
“Just like there was to Henry Wade’s heart. One shot.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Hunter said. “That’s really bothering me. What the heck’s going on here? We got us a nest of snipers?”
“What kind of gun killed Wade? Same thing?”
He shook his head. “Far as we know, it was a Remington 700P, 7.62 caliber. Sniper rifle. Must have had a scope on it. Forensics man said he thought it was Remington’s Tactical Weapons System. Comes with a Bi-Pod and a Tactical Scope. Probably a five round.”
“So what we’ve got is Henry Wade killed Eugene. Sounds like a hired assassin, you ask me. Then somebody else killed Henry Wade. What a mess!”
He nodded.
“We’ve still got one more death to figure out,” I said.
“You mean Sally Wheatley?”
I nodded.
Hunter gave me a satisfied shake of his head. “You know something? I like working with you and Miss Amelia. Things kind of take a new shape. Start making some kind of sense when the three of us talk things out.”
“Just the two of us, here now.”
That was enough of a reminder for Hunter. He reached out for me and all talk of murder was over for the night. I never did get to my bed. Flasher slept there alone.
* * *
Hunter’s phone rang too early the next morning. Of course, Flasher barked and had to be shushed.
I was unhappy at the sound of chimes when it was only 6 a.m. Maybe there could have been a long, happy day ahead for us. Maybe no more murder and money and madness for a while. I was thinking I’d get up and make coffee. No breakfast—since he ate all my eggs. And then we could go out to a bend in the Colorado where it was wide, where there was a rope hanging from a tree to swing on out over the water. A private place where a lot of teenagers swim in the buff. I could already feel the muddy water sliding off my skin. Cold, like the air never was. And quiet. In an inner tube, you could float for hours. ’Course now I had to worry about where I parked my car, getting my hair wet, hiding my clothes so no idiot stole them, and then getting back against the current—
“That was the sheriff. Gotta go.” Hunter stood in the doorway, tying his tie.
“No coffee?”
“Nope. Deputy Brent’s bringing back one of Henry Wade’s brothers from Dallas. The man wants to help, but he said he hasn’t seen his brother in months. Something was going on, though. Wade suddenly had a lot of money and was doing some bragging. I’m going into the department, meet them when they get there. Sheriff told me to bring Miss Amelia on over. Figures she can make something of what the brother says.”
“You’re asking her on your way out?” I had to laugh. “Won’t she be surprised to see you in the store this early?”
He shrugged and snickered. “Guess so, but your grandmother’s a pretty savvy woman. Wouldn’t try to put anything past her.”
“Maybe Ethelred will be down there, too. Wouldn’t that be nice? Town could really use another scandal about now.”
He rolled his eyes and turned to go. “Oh, and Deputy Harner talked to the waitstaff from the party. Asked about Henry Wade. Somebody said she’d seen him before around Riverville. Didn’t know his name but recognized him that night. That means the guy’s either been here before or was here way before the party. Hope all this leads us somewhere.”
I got up from the couch feeling bent and broken and stiff. Flasher came trotting out of my bedroom, stopping to shake a time or two, and head toward the door.
“You taking him with you?” The question was a formality.
“Could you keep him?”
“Are you crazy?”
“Then could you take him over to my house and close him in the kitchen?”
I groaned. “Okay. But you owe me.”
He kissed me before leaving. I held on to him, looking up into his deep blue eyes and wanting more than anything to hang on for at least a week.
“I’ve been thinking, Hunter,” I started while rubbing my head against his chin. “You have to get out to that game ranch. See if either bullet—from Henry Wade’s gun, or the bullet that killed him—matches the gun that killed Sally. Meemaw really has a feeling Sally’s death is part of all this. And I know better than to ignore one of her feelings.”
He nodded, folding his arms around my back and pulling me close. “Me, too. I’ll bring it up this morning. See about going to Ralston and going over Sally’s case with that sheriff.”
He turned to go.
“No shower?”
“Can’t. Later.”
“I’m taking one.”
He stopped. “Maybe later.”
“Sure you don’t have time for coffee?”
“Nope. And don’t try to entice me. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
He came back to where I stood, smiling wide. The smell of him, when he leaned down to kiss me, was of warm skin and a not too fresh shirt. “About that shower,” he said. “Hope never to miss an offer like that again in my life.”
He left and Flasher crawled up on the sofa, stretched out, and began to snore.