Southern Harm

by Caroline Fardig

Rufus eyed me. “So are you agreeing to halt your investigation?”

  They were backing me into a corner, so I had to think fast. “I will consider it if you agree to interview a few people—with an open mind.”

  “Who and why?”

  I ticked them off on my fingers. “Earl Settle, for getting violent when Esther Sinclair quit her job at his restaurant. Brock Sheridan, for beating up a boy who had a crush on her, and because she dumped him soon after that for yet another guy. And a landscaper named Zack Robinson, who got fired because her mother complained to his boss that she saw him make a pass at her.”

  Flynn shook his head. “We’ve already talked to those guys. They’re clean.”

  “A greasy liar, a politician, and a man who gave underage girls alcohol are all…clean.”

  “Look, I didn’t say they were altar boys. They’re simply not valid suspects for this particular homicide.”

  “Okay…” I blew out a slow breath. “Then can I come up with three other people for you to interview and get back with you?”

  Flynn frowned. “No. Go back to your regular job. Leave the investigating to the professionals.”

  I felt my face flushing, and all I wanted was to get out of there. I stood. “I’d like to say it was nice to see you two, but I’d be lying. Goodbye, Detectives.” With my head held high, I marched out of the room and didn’t stop until I was outside the station.

  Chapter 28

  I texted Tucker to let him know I was outside. Within a couple of minutes, he was rushing out the door to sweep me into an embrace.

  “What did they say? Are you in trouble because of me?”

  I pulled back from him and gave him a confused look. “Because of you? No. And I’m not in trouble.” Not technically. At least not yet.

  “What did they say?”

  I waved my hand and tried to appear nonchalant. “The usual. No big deal.”

  He stared me down. “Quinn.”

  “They told me to be sure not to harass anyone.”

  “And?”

  My shoulders slumped. “And they said the three people I thought were good suspects are not good suspects. I’m sorry, Tucker. I was hoping to figure this out soon.”

  He wrapped his arms around me again. “I want you to stop. Delilah, too.”

  I pulled away. “What if that means your aunt stays in jail forever?”

  “We’ll find another way.”

  “Would it make you feel better to come with us when we interview people?”

  He thought for a moment. “Maybe. I mean…I guess I could take some time off. Business is grinding to a halt anyway with Christmas right around the corner. I think I could handle you continuing if I could do it with you.”

  I grinned teasingly. “I guess that makes you an honorary Bellandini sister.”

  * * *

  —

  “Nope. Not happening,” Delilah said, shaking her head vehemently.

  I pleaded, “Come on, D. Sweet, sweet D…sweet as sweet tea. Can you at least consider letting Tucker tag along? He won’t cause trouble. I promise.”

  She frowned. “Investigating is our thing. I don’t want some boy horning in on our sisterly territory.”

  “You’re just afraid he’ll be a wet blanket.”

  “That, too.”

  “A third set of eyes and ears isn’t a bad thing. He’s gone with us before, and he’s been helpful. Give him a chance.”

  She grumbled for a moment or two, but then relented. “If he plays the overbearing boyfriend card, he’s fired.”

  I smiled. “Fair enough. Did you figure out who we’re talking to today?”

  She handed a printout of a table to me. My sister was getting fancy with her information. The table held names, places of business, home addresses, phone numbers, and email addresses for several people. Some of the names had times listed next to them as well.

  “Here they are. Divide and conquer again? You take Tucker.”

  I smiled. “Hold up. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve come to the conclusion we’re much better together. At least I’m better when we’re together. You’re probably great at questioning people either way.”

  Her cheeks blushed slightly. “Thanks for the compliment. And I agree that we do complement each other. Meetings with some of these people, though, I had to schedule at the same time, so we don’t always have a choice.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll do what we can. Ready?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  —

  Tucker drove Delilah and me inland all the way to Black Creek to meet with Tim Carter. Darned if he did not in fact live in his mom’s basement, just like Elise had joked. Or maybe she hadn’t been joking. It was hard to tell with her.

  Tim’s mother sat the three of us down in her living room and went to prepare some tea. Tim appeared at the basement steps, his expression leery.

  “My mama said you wanted to ask me some questions about high school?” he asked tentatively.

  Delilah hopped up and approached him. “Yes. Do you mind? We’re trying to help out a wrongfully accused friend. It’s about Esther Sinclair’s murder.”

  “Oh.” He walked over to the couch and perched on the opposite end from where I was seated.

  “Have you been following the story on the news?”

  He kept his gaze down. “Yes.”

  I said, “Our parents are Dixie Bellandini and Jack Anderson. We heard from them that Brock Sheridan got physical with you after a misunderstanding regarding Esther.”

  His jaw clenched. “He didn’t get ‘physical’ with me. He beat the living daylights out of me.”

  Delilah said, “I see we’re not sugarcoating anything. If that’s the case, then the ‘misunderstanding’ was that you were in love with his girlfriend and traded doing her homework for spending time alone with her. I’m not excusing his behavior, but I get why he had a bone to pick with you.”

  He shrugged. “It was stupid of him to worry about me stealing his girlfriend. I was one of many, and clearly not her top choice as replacement for him.”

  I flashed a glance at my sister, whose eyes had grown wide. I asked, “Who was the replacement?”

  “Tea, anyone?” Mrs. Carter called, getting between us to set a serving tray brimming with an antique teapot, teacups, cream, sugar, and a plate of homemade cookies on the coffee table. I could understand why Tim still lived here.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Carter,” I said, accepting a cup of tea and a cookie.

  She took her time passing out her refreshments. I thought Delilah was going to explode having to wait to hear the answer to our question. Tucker, who I hadn’t yet brought up to speed on our quest to find the mystery boyfriend, was happy to sit and enjoy a few cookies. He probably hadn’t been able to stomach breakfast this morning ahead of his aunt’s hearing.

  Once Mrs. Carter had left the room, I asked my question again. “Tim, who was the replacement?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. I saw her with some other guy later that week, but I was too far away to be able to make out who it was.”

  I saw Delilah deflate in the chair across from me. I felt the same way.

  “At school or after school?” I asked.

  “After. It was pretty late.”

  “Where?”

  “Forsyth Park.”

  “Can you describe the person you saw? Was he your age? Older?”

  “Um…I don’t know. It was dark.”

  Delilah frowned. “Was there anything about him to make you think he was a construction or other kind of blue-collar worker? I realize that’s oddly specific, but we know that a man who was working on her neighbor’s yard had been giving her trouble.”

  Tim took a gulp of his tea. “Like I said, it was dark, and I couldn’t see him ver
y well. Plus, I was riding by pretty fast on my bike. They were kissing, so I didn’t slow down to stare.”

  Delilah and I shared a disappointed glance.

  He continued, “But I do remember seeing her the next night near her house with a different guy. He was taller and fit your construction worker description. He had her backed up against a tree. They were arguing.”

  Tucker piped up, “Did you intervene?”

  “Me? No way. I was still nursing a black eye and a fat lip.”

  Tucker’s eyes went dark. “So you let him intimidate her?”

  Tim let out a soft laugh. “No one intimidated Esther Sinclair. I saw that she got inside her house safely.”

  “From a safe distance for you.”

  “Well, yes.”

  Tucker shook his head, but offered no other reply.

  I said, “Did you ever see that same person come around Esther again?”

  “No. Now, I don’t know if this has anything to do with him, but a couple of weeks before graduation, she told me she thought she was being followed. But she’d told me that a few months prior, too.”

  “Did she say if she thought it was the man you saw?” I asked.

  “She didn’t say either way. From how she explained it, though, I think it was more of a feeling she had than having actually seen someone following her around.”

  “Did she tell anyone else?”

  “Just me, I think.”

  Tucker ran a hand through his hair. “Did you tell anyone else? Try to get her some protection?” His patience was wearing thin with poor scaredy-cat Tim.

  “No, I…uh…I tried to keep an eye on her myself. I was pretty invisible in high school, so I thought I could put that to good use.”

  Delilah had evidently had about as much as she could take as well. “Tim, did you ever think that maybe you were the one who she thought was watching her? It’s been said that you acted a little like a stalker toward her.”

  His face fell. “Oh. Oh. No, that didn’t cross my mind. I…I was never stalking her. I just liked to…look at her. She was so beautiful.”

  She nodded. “Okay, Tim. So besides you, do you think Esther had any kind of other stalker to worry about?”

  “I…guess not. Except for that guy that one time, I never noticed anyone bothering her. But you need to understand—I didn’t follow her around every minute of every day. I had a life outside of her.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “At graduation. After graduation, actually. She was talking to Mr. Griffin.”

  Delilah turned a fake surprised look at me. “Your history teacher who’d quit earlier that day?”

  “He was in charge of the graduation ceremony. Regardless of when he quit, he would have had to be there.”

  “Were they arguing like usual?”

  He shook his head. “No. In fact, she was introducing him to her parents.”

  I said to Delilah, “Perhaps they’d decided to settle their differences.”

  She whispered, “Or he was luring her into a trap.”

  I hissed back, “In front of her parents?”

  “What?” Tim asked, scrunching up his face. “What did you say about Mr. Griffin?”

  I replied, “Nothing,” but Delilah said over me, “We think he had it out for Esther. Would you agree with that assessment?”

  He thought for a moment. “I mean, sort of. He didn’t seem to like her much, but…are you trying to insinuate he might have killed her? Because that’s ludicrous. I say if you’re looking for her killer, look at Brock Sheridan. He changed after she dumped him. The guy came unhinged. He even slugged your dad, and they were best buds.”

  I said, “So your vote is Brock. Any other ideas?”

  He shook his head. “I’d love to see him fry for this.”

  Chapter 29

  I spent a great deal of the thirty-minute drive back to town trying to convince my sister we needed to take a harder look at Brock Sheridan.

  “That Tim guy just wants to see Brock get punished for beating him up.”

  I replied, “One, Brock should be punished for it. And two, Tim’s got a valid point. Brock clearly had anger issues, which he used his fists to solve. Let’s say he clocked Esther and she wouldn’t wake up. What if he panicked and buried her?”

  Tucker pointed out, “She wasn’t buried that deep. If she was still alive, she probably would have been able to claw her way out.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Thank you, dear, for ruining my argument.”

  A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry.”

  Our conversation degraded from there, with neither of us willing to change our minds. Finally, we descended into an uncomfortable silence.

  As we were pulling back into town, Delilah said, “We need to go to the cellphone store on Thirty-Seventh.”

  I asked, “Need something?”

  She snickered. “Luther Barclay.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You’ll see.”

  When we pulled up and parked, we did indeed see what was so funny. Luther Barclay, bad boy of landscaping and two-time ex-con, was out in front of the store dancing around in a foam costume depicting an old-style flip phone, complete with buttons and an antenna.

  Tucker said, “I can’t believe I’ve let you two have all the fun for this long.”

  I said, “Hey, this is probably the only job he can get. We shouldn’t laugh.”

  Unable to keep a straight face, Delilah said, “Tucker, I’ll give you twenty bucks to go up and type your phone number into his keypad.”

  Tucker shook his head. “Hard pass. I don’t want to get that chummy with him.”

  I said, “Maybe you children should stay in the vehicle.” I hopped down from the truck and marched ahead of them toward the big green dancing cellphone.

  “Luther?” I asked.

  He stopped dancing and turned a stony face to me. “Who wants to know?” Luther had two teardrops under his left eye. I wasn’t positive, but I had the feeling that meant something bad. His icy blue eyes themselves were creepy enough.

  “I’m…Amy.” No way I was using my real name.

  Delilah and Tucker arrived behind me in time to hear me, so I hoped they’d follow my lead.

  D said, “I’m Jennifer, and this is Chris.”

  I said, “We’re trying to help an innocent friend stay out of jail. We were hoping you could help us by telling us about someone you used to work with. Zack Robinson.”

  Luther shook his head. “I don’t remember anyone by that name.”

  Tucker said, “You worked on a landscaping job with him back in 1986. You two used to ogle the neighbor girl and give her and her underage friends beer.”

  He smiled. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  Delilah said, “I’m sure the police have already been by to talk to you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Mind telling us what you told them?”

  “I told them I’m no snitch.”

  “So you do know something. You know, the woman who lived there is in jail right now, accused of the murder. We’d like to be able to get her name cleared. We just need someone who was there to answer a few simple questions.”

  Luther proceeded to tell us what he thought of Lela, and it was neither polite nor repeatable. I felt Tucker tense beside me, so I moved to stand between him and Luther.

  Delilah glared at him. “If you’re finished, could you tell us if you ever saw Zack Robinson getting violent with Esther Sinclair or trying to engage her after work hours?”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  She shrugged. “Me not going inside and telling your boss you’re out here being belligerent toward potential customers. You know, I could really use a shiny new iPhone with a two
-year contract, but I’m not feeling properly welcomed by the store’s mascot.”

  He glared at her. “Fine. Yes, Zack was a creep. I was, too, back then. We openly ogled that Esther girl, but she didn’t mind it one bit. She didn’t even mind the nasty things we said to her and her friends.”

  I asked, “Did Zack come around again after he got fired?”

  “Yes, once. I was there late one evening, and he came looking for her. Knocked on her window, but she didn’t answer. I saw him drive off, and that was it. I never saw the guy again.”

  I wondered if that was the same night Tim had seen him arguing with Esther. Maybe he had come back later, after Luther left.

  “What about the tools in the shed in the backyard? Did you ever use those?”

  He gave me a strange look. “Why in the world would I remember something like that? I don’t recall a whole lot about that job besides the little sluts next door prancing around in their bikinis and the shrew who owned the house coming out and screaming at us every once in a while.”

  Delilah nodded. “Okay. One more question. Did you kill her?”

  His jaw dropped, and he let out a string of curses. Two moms on the sidewalk scrambled to cover their children’s ears and hustle them down the block.

  Delilah said, “So that’s a no, then, on the murder.”

  If looks could kill, my sister would have been lying in a heap on the ground right now. “It’s a no,” he growled, jaw firmly clenched.

  I took her by the arm and dragged her back toward Tucker’s truck. “Thank you for the information, Luther. Take care.”

  Once we were safely back in the truck, or so I thought, Tucker glanced in the rearview mirror and said, “I don’t mean to alarm anyone, but I swear that gray Prius a couple of cars back followed us all the way from Black Creek.”

  “Are you serious?” Delilah bellowed. Before we realized what she was doing, she had sprung out of the truck and was barreling down the sidewalk toward the suspect vehicle.

  Tucker and I gaped at each other, horrified, and tore out after her. We caught up to her as she stood next to the vehicle, jaw nearly on the ground.

  “Dad?”