They left Renee still smoking on the porch.
“Well, that was right interesting.” Dallas’ chuckle came along with a creak as he settled himself. “Renee and Eugene back together. What do you know.”
“If she was telling the truth,” Maggie said.
“She’s too smart to lie about it.” Carson raised a hand in acknowledgment of Renee’s wave from the porch as Maggie steered toward the entrance to the highway.
“She could have killed Laurel to be sure she was out of the way. Atlanta’s not that far. We — The sheriff should check her alibi closely. Maybe Eugene was wavering. Maybe the papers he had Laurel sign were a bigger deal than Renee let on.”
Carson objected, “She’s also too smart to need to kill Laurel to get her out of the way — for love or money.”
“Eugene could have done the killing, and she’s trying to clean up after him.” She stared straight ahead, not pulling onto the highway.
It wasn’t significant she was tossing out scenarios that featured someone other than Carson as murderer. She was doing what Bel said — checking all angles.
“Possible. But I don’t think so.”
“Wouldn’t put the business at risk,” Dallas agreed. “This does shine a light on what power Laurel wielded to force changes in the agreement. Another call on Eugene is in order.”
Maggie snorted. “He’ll have his orders long before we could get there. Don’t you think she was overselling how ineffectual he is, trying to make out like he couldn’t possibly have killed Laurel? Though it was interesting what she said about Barry’s new trucks.”
“From Wade,” Carson said. “He needs to provide some answers.”
“On less than a rumor?” she scoffed. “She fed us that tidbit at least partly to steer us away from Eugene. Maybe we could go back to Shenny’s, but—”
“But,” Dallas picked up, “same issue as with Rick Wade. We need more information before we tackle Barry again.”
“Leverage,” she agreed.
“Exactly. Let’s head to the office. See what we can find out, pick up some lunch. Oh, yes, and Scott said he might have materials for us.”
“The transcript?” Maggie turned toward town. “Does this mean you’re finally looking at what the sheriff actually wants from us?”
Apparently unaffected by her sarcasm, Dallas murmured, “Could be, could be.”
* * * *
Dallas settled behind his desk with satisfaction.
J.D. had gone to his office. Maggie sat at the table and pulled out her gadget.
Scott came in. “The phone is leaving me no time to do any real work at all, Dallas.”
“The transcript?” Maggie didn’t look up.
“That’s what I’m saying. I’ll never finish at this rate. If you’d get me an assistant. Evelyn could come in and answer—”
“Evelyn DuPree is not your assistant.” He stopped himself. Dina had not done right by the boy, spoiling, then ignoring him. But when it came to thinking Evelyn … No. “Set the recording to answer, check every hour, and call back as needed. Now, what’s this material from the sheriff you mentioned on the phone?”
“I heard from a contact that a number of reports were available. I knew Maggie would want to see—”
Maggie stopped tapping on her gadget. “What reports?”
“—fool Abner thought he wouldn’t give them to me, but I set him straight. I—”
“Why don’t you bring us those reports, and tell J.D. to join us. Thank you, Scott. Good job.”
The boy came back with an armload of papers, which he took to Maggie. Dallas didn’t blame him — she was decidedly more attractive than Scott’s old cousin.
Maggie frowned. “Aren’t these available digitally?”
“Dallas still prefers paper,” Scott said. “There’s preliminary forensics and initial interviews. But the one you’ll find most interesting, Maggie—” Scott placed a stapled set of papers in front of her, the rest stacked to the side. “—has interviews with staff at Rambler Farm.”
Maggie gave Scott a sharp look, but didn’t voice her apparent objection to his reading the material.
J.D. came in, took two sections from the bottom of the stack, handed one to Dallas and sat on the sofa with the other.
Dallas began reading the report on the sheriff’s interview with Eugene. Nothing there beyond what he’d told them.
Maggie, having finished reading, tossed that set of stapled pages onto his desk. He started reading. When he finished, he held the papers out. J.D. came from the sofa and collected them. And around they went.
Not that Dallas couldn’t have done the fetching and toting himself. A spell of days running here to there wouldn’t do him in, for all that Evelyn kept at him. No, it was the worrisome that dragged on a man of his years.
The worrisome. One of Dina’s pet phrases. He probably hadn’t used it since she’d passed on. Strange how things like that went through a family.
He contemplated Maggie for a minute. Now, her family was interesting. Real interesting.
As soon as the last report left her hands, she started typing away at her little gadget.
Dallas handed the last report to J.D., and considered what he’d read.
The full-time cook-housekeeper said little. But a place like Rambler Farm required a lot of upkeep. Landscapers, carpet cleaners, window washers, furniture experts, appliance repairmen. Folks who counted Rambler Farm as one client among many, and thus talked freely.
None had provided a full picture, but, together, their observations painted one.
In varying tones of pleasure (youngster on the landscaping crew), approval (appliance repairman), discomfort (carpet cleaner), and everything in between (six more accounts) it was revealed Laurel appeared in unexpected areas of the house in her underwear. She showed no discomfort at encountering strangers in this attire. She was hot (youngster on the landscaping crew), flirty (appliance repairman), shameless (carpet cleaner) in these encounters.
What they all agreed on was she put on a special show when it came to her brother-in-law, including rubbing against him “every which way there is” (youngster on the landscaping crew) until he “had a woody you could hang a flag on” (appliance repairman), and was “sweating and red-faced” (carpet cleaner.)
Since they were at the house at different times, it was not an isolated incident.
They were divided about Ed’s reaction, but all cast him in a passive role. The judge was never on hand, but two reported Charlotte arriving on the scene.
The appliance repairman had been the appreciative recipient of Laurel’s flirting while she wore a nightie that showed more than it concealed. Until her brother-in-law walked into the breakfast room and she’d immediately gone to Ed Smith. With the laundry room door open, the repairman watched. She kept advancing, Ed kept retreating with worried glances in the direction of the front door.
Ed grabbed his briefcase, and had almost reached the entryway when Charlotte appeared.
The repairman said Charlotte took in the situation, including Ed’s physical state. Having had other encounters with Charlotte, the repairman mostly closed the door. He couldn’t see what happened next, but he heard.
Charlotte sounded calm when she said Ed would be late if he didn’t leave for the office. Ed hightailed it out.
Charlotte then told Laurel to go to her room and put on clothes.
Laurel laughed, saying she had on just the right amount of clothes.
Less calmly, Charlotte hissed something about not airing dirty laundry in front of the help.
Laurel laughed again and said she’d take off her dirty laundry right then and there.
He’d heard Charlotte heading down the hallway, her angry voice growing more distant, and Laurel laughing and laughing, apparently pursuing her sister.
The youngster from the landscaping crew said Charlotte stopped cold at the doorway to the sunroom where Laurel appeared to be trying to give Ed a lap dance, while he remained stiff — in more ways than one — in his chair. Then she strode in, slapped Laurel hard enough to send her to the floor, called her whore, and walked out. Ed scrambled out of his seat and followed. There’d been raised voices, a distant door closed, and the youngster heard no more from them.
Laurel got off the floor, her face red and her eyes “looking crazy.” Then she’d spotted him beyond the window, where he was cleaning out a flower bed.
It took a bit for the deputy to get the boy to say what happened next, but since he’d bragged about it and they had statements from several of his friends on what he’d told them, he finally came out with it: Laurel unhooked her bra, let it drop. Then she beckoned him inside, and they had sex on a chaise.
He was fourteen.
“No phone records,” Maggie said as J.D. flipped over the last page of the last report.
“Sheriff might be holding those close to his chest.”
She grunted. “Maybe. One thing’s clear. We have to go back to Rambler Farm.”
“You think this time will be the charm with Charlotte?”
Sometimes that tone of J.D.’s riled Maggie. This time she rolled right past it.
“Not Charlotte. The cook.”