by Anna Castle
She shook her head. Her hair shifted with the motion and I caught a glimmer of diamond earrings. “He changed. He had made a substantial fortune by the time the bottom fell out of the software industry. He was a player; he could easily have moved into other venues. But somehow he lost interest in all that.”
“He was as rich as anybody needs to be,” I suggested. “And looking for something more meaningful.”
She gave me a worldly-wise look. “Rich people always want to be richer. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Believe me, if Ty goes through with his resort, it will be a money-maker.”
“Hm.” It wasn’t only about the money; I knew it in my bones. He loved that ranch. He loved the Hill Country. That passion shone through everything he’d said and done. I remembered the joy on his face when he showed me the rare anacacho orchid tree he’d discovered deep in a canyon.
The kind of canyon that could be sheltering Roger’s red Escalade at this very moment.
“Anyway,” Courtney said, “Ty wanted to move back out here and I wanted to move to Washington. We argued about it for the better part of a year and then decided to call it quits and go our separate ways.”
“It was an amicable divorce?”
“Oh, yes. Of course there were some harsh moments, but luckily, there weren’t any children to worry about and we managed to get past the money part without too much bickering.”
“That’s unusual.” Not in my circles, of course. In my circles, breakups meant divvying up the DVDs and deciding who got to keep going to Genuine Joe’s for coffee.
“Isn’t it? But Ty’s a generous man. And that’s another thing. He wouldn’t be threatened by any partner, silent or otherwise, that Diana might try to recruit. He’s as sure-footed in the world of investments as anyone I’ve ever met. He could dance circles around anyone she might bring in and make it work to his advantage in the long run.”
“So the official theory of his motive is pretty much hogwash.”
“Absolutely. I can demolish that in two minutes, if it comes to a trial.”
“Is there any hope that it won’t?”
“Absolutely. I’ll have a chance to present alternative theories at the preliminary hearing. I’m hoping to get the charges dismissed. They’re just so slow out here. The circuit judge only hears criminal cases in Long County once a week, can you believe it?”
I shrugged. Of course I could. We didn’t get that much crime in the rural counties.
She tsked. “And the docket is full for Wednesday, so he has to wait until next week.”
“How can you get the charges dismissed? That’s the best thing, right? That would tell everyone he didn’t do it?”
She nodded, smiling her patronizing smile again. Fine; let her patronize me. I wanted to understand this stuff. “That’s right. Although, in a small town, there will always be doubters. What we really need is another solid suspect. Ty tells me that you’ve been working on that.”
“I have a couple of possibles. The best at the moment is a guy named Hank Roeder. He lives on the ranch next door and he’s a pretty unsavory character.”
Courtney nodded. The earrings glinted again. “What was his connection to Bainbridge?”
“None, so far. But there could be something I haven’t turned up yet.”
“I thought everyone in a small town knew everyone else’s business. But then, you’re new here, aren’t you?”
“I have friends,” I said. “Friends who know things. Friends who are right in the center of the loop. Besides, I think this all has something to do with Diana.”
Courtney lowered her voice to a whisper. “That bracelet.”
I nodded. “Plus the location and the timing, and her being conveniently out of town and incommunicado.”
“I’m not sure that’s significant. Disappearing when things get tough is part of her modus operandi.”
I liked that phrase. I repeated it in my head a few times, to get it into my working vocabulary. Maybe I could spring it at the sheriff’s office next time I went. “My working theory is that whoever killed and buried Roger did both to protect her.”
“If she’s still the girl I knew, she’ll have two or three men on her string. She’d come up to Austin to visit us sometimes. At parties, every man in the room would end up in a circle around her. She loved it, of course. She thrived on it.”
That last remark held a sour note. It must be hard to put as much time and money into your looks as Courtney did and then be cast in the shade by your husband’s hick sister. That was still true—the circle and the thriving—but it didn’t bother me. It wasn’t just about her looks. Diana had the gift of making everyone feel special.
“My best suspect until this morning was Dare Thompson,” I said. “They’ve been dating for a while and it’s pretty serious.”
“Deputy Dare Thompson?” Courtney’s eyes sharpened.
“Unfortunately, he has a really good alibi.”
“Which is?”
“He was at a week-long training thingy in Georgia. Some law enforcement seminar on cyber-crime.”
“How do you know this?”
“He told me.”
She gave me a long look, the kind you give a dog who is standing in the middle of a well-strewn sack of trash. “Has anyone verified the deputy’s attendance at this ‘week-long training thingy?’”
“Deputy Penateka said the sheriff authorized the travel himself.” My shoulders sank. “But I don’t know if anyone actually talked to anyone who could actually say yes or no.”
“Actually say it in a court of law under oath,” Courtney elaborated. “As of this moment, as far as I’m concerned, that alibi is worthless. I’ll have someone follow up. We’ll need a credible witness to come out and testify that he saw Deputy Thompson in Georgia on the day and/or night of Bainbridge’s death.”
Now, that was more like it! I could tolerate the patronizing looks as long as she got my guy out of jail.
Perline brought out our lunches and waited for our reactions. Courtney poked warily at her omelet with her fork. It looked beautiful; Cracker had put some effort into impressing her. The eggs were a perfect golden color, with thick slices of red tomato peeking out at the ends. There was a pretty garnish of carrot curls with leafy parsley and two slices of cantaloupe. Even the toast was wrapped in a checkered cloth napkin and served on its own little plate.
Courtney sliced off a tiny portion with the edge of her fork and placed it cautiously in her mouth. Perline and I exchanged a look.
I cut my hush puppies in half to let the steam escape and started on my spicy fish. “Melts in your mouth,” I said to Perline, knowing she would pass it on to Cracker. He’d also given me some fluffy rice pilaf mixed with diced vegetables. I caught Courtney eyeing my plate and smirked inwardly. Egg white omelet. Ha!
She smiled at me, gave Courtney a narrow look, and moved off to her other customers.
I had fresh fish and fresh hope, both sorely needed after the disappointing arraignment. “What happened with that bail business, anyway?”
“What a fiasco!” Courtney shook her head. “The whole thing blind-sided me. Yet another fun aspect of working in a rural jurisdiction. The judge can set whatever bail he likes. There are rules against excessive bail, but of course what counts as excessive varies from individual to individual. Even so, a million dollars is completely ridiculous for a manslaughter case.”
“Can’t you protest it?”
“I will request a reduction, but that takes time. I will also file a complaint against Judge Bogusch, who has a history of conflict with my client. That might get him a reprimand, but I doubt he’ll care. Judges are elected, remember.”
“How can he have a history of conflict? Ty’s been in Austin for most of his adult life.”
“That doesn’t help him, so don’t keep saying it.” She sighed. “Judge Bogusch has a daughter Ty’s age, who lost some competition to him years ago. Some high school agricultural event.”
“Futu
re Farmers of America?”
“Quite possibly. Anyway, the girl lost on points, according to the standard system, but a second set of criteria were introduced for her by the committee, which was chaired by her father, which bumped her into first place. Ty organized a protest against the unfairness and won, which does not surprise me.”
“Me neither.” A glow of pride warmed my heart.
“Anywhere else, that would be a minor incident, long forgotten. Not here.”
“Small towns have long memories.”
“So they say.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. I wanted to know if Ty had told her anything he hadn’t told me, which of course he might have, especially if he had anything to hide. I couldn’t ask straight out. First, because no lawyer would answer such a question and second, because of the added complication of us being the ex-wife and the new girlfriend. Plus it might look like begging, which is not among my skills.
I decided to try an oblique approach. “Have you learned anything about those weird emails?”
“I haven’t had time to do anything yet.” She scowled at the bit of tomato on her fork as if it were responsible. “The two from Bainbridge are certainly odd, if Ty’s recollection is correct.”
“Deputy Penateka said he asked Pete Schmidzinsky to examine them.”
“We won’t rely on that opinion. My firm has a tech expert we consult in such cases.”
“That sounds good.” It also sounded slow. The realization that this might all drag on for weeks, if not longer, began to sink in.
Courtney mopped up the last smear of tomato with the crust of her toast. She slid a glance with a trace of longing at my one remaining hush puppy. I forked it into my mouth and chewed it down, letting the pleasure of its cornmealy goodness show on my face. She poked a tongue in her cheek and favored me with a wry half-smile.
Okay, I didn’t hate her. But she wasn’t much older than I was. If she ran five miles a day, she could eat hush puppies too.
“I wouldn’t expect too much from that direction,” Courtney said. “I’m sure we’ll find that either Ty misremembered the senders’ addresses or Diana was playing some sort of silly prank.”
“A very silly and pointless prank,” I said. “Unless Ty’s the Louise.”
“The what?!” Her voice rang shrill, making heads turn in our direction.
“Shh!” I cautioned. I smiled as if nothing untoward had happened and explained the Thelma and Louise theory briefly. “So you see,” I finished, “there is a remote possibility that Ty is covering for Diana. Maybe he even provoked that bail thing on purpose, to keep the attention on him for a while longer. But I’m sure he would have told you, in confidence, since you’re his lawyer and everything.”
She blinked at me, perhaps in some of sort of mascara-based Morse code. That was not the response I’d hoped for. I’d expected another What? or a swift and hearty Nonsense! Some assertive rejection of the whole idea.
Before I could press for a proper answer, Perline waltzed over and offered us dessert. We opted for the check, which Courtney took her time paying. She waited until Perline took the charge slip back to the register before granting me a bland, professional smile. “Don’t worry, Penny. I will give Ty the best defense any lawyer could provide.”
Not exactly a vote of confidence.
Chapter 13
So far, I had precious little to offer Ty’s defense. The Dare theory hadn’t totally collapsed, but it had been suspended until further notice. The Hank theory only had one leg to stand on from the start. A good kick would knock it down.
That left me with the Ben theory, which I did not much like. Get Ty out of jail and put Tillie’s husband in? But if I could spread the motives around liberally enough, nobody would sit in jail until real evidence came to light. I just needed to get that reasonable doubt going.
Tillie sat at the front desk, balancing the books on the computer. I pulled up a chair and told her about my lunch with Courtney. Then I asked, “I’m still wondering if Diana might not have had some side thing going. You know, a secret affair behind Dare’s back. Have you ever gotten a whiff of anything like that at Dolly’s salon?”
“For your investigation, right?” Her brow creased. “Digging up all the dirt?” She turned watermelon red the instant the words left her mouth.
I winced. “Possibly not the best choice of phrase.”
“I meant, like—”
“I know, I know. And we really do need to dig. Don’t spread this around, but it’s possible that Diana did it and got an old flame to help her cover it all up.”
Tillie loved it. Her face lit up like a flip-flash array at the prospect of dishing on Diana, especially when we came around to the boys in the old gang. “Sid Matslar?” She let out a happy shriek. “That is so perfect!”
She astonished me. Perline and Ty had both nixed the Sid theory. “You think there might have been something going on there?”
She shook her head, still beaming happily. “No, but wouldn’t it be great? Diana, sneaking around on Dare, the Dishalicious Deputy, with Sid Matslar?” She sighed and the glee rushed out like air from a popped balloon. “But I seriously doubt it.”
“You don’t think she could have called Sid for help?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I guess it’s possible that they’re friends or something. He’s in the middle of a super-bad divorce. My aunt says his wife is taking him to the cleaners. She says he’ll be lucky if she leaves him with the clothes on his back.”
In which case he wouldn’t need the cleaners. “Sid sounds more like a doormat than a partner in crime. But maybe Diana was consulting him about the property thing.”
“That, I couldn’t tell you.”
It didn’t seem very likely either. Who would call their loan officer to help them conceal a body? Not even a full service bank would go that far.
“Anybody else on your list?” Tillie asked.
“Well,” I said, “was Ben ever—”
She gave me a sharp look, almost baring her teeth. “Ben hasn’t seen Diana since he married me. Not once. He doesn’t love her anymore. He said so. He loves me.” She picked up a stack of receipts and tapped them against the desk to straighten them. “Me.”
“Of course he does. I didn’t mean anything like that.”
“Don’t you dare put Ben on your list!” Tillie glared at me fiercely; at least, as fiercely as a short, round woman with a ridiculous pink streak in her hair can look.
“I’m noting anyone who ever had any kind of relationship with Diana. Only to show that someone else could have gotten in an argument with Roger on her behalf, that’s all.”
“No!” She shouted. Jake lifted his head and looked worriedly from her to me.
“You’re scaring the dog, Tillie.”
“Sorry, Jakey.” Tears glistened in her eyes. She looked down at the desk, twisting the stack of papers awry with nervous hands. “Ben doesn’t love her anymore. He loves me. He hardly ever talks to her anymore, you know.”
“I believe you.” I went around the desk to give her a hug. “I’m sure you’re a hundred percent right.”
But I didn’t believe her. Cold ashes wouldn’t put out this much heat. Some flames still flickered, if only on Ben’s side.
“You’ll take Ben’s name off that list?” Tillie’s voice quavered.
“I’ll put him way down at the bottom, in the ancient history column.” I smiled at her. “That’s a pretty long column. There’s about half of Lost Hat on it.”
“More than half.” Tillie sniffed.
“She was a regular man-eater.”
“Totally. She was horrible to Ben. But like a zillion years ago, though.”
“Two zillion.”
She seemed more willing to talk, now that we’d established the antiquity of the affair. “She really broke his heart, he said.”
“And then he got over it and wised up and fell in love with you. So, her loss, right?”
“That’s r
ight.” Tillie managed a smile, but her lower lip still quivered.
Time to let it drop. I’d try to have a word with Ben when he came to pick Tillie up this evening.
I spent the afternoon at the computer, polishing the Caine photos. When five o’clock rolled around, I found a reason to sit at the front desk, so I could keep an eye out the window for Ben’s truck. He drove a red Ford, easy to spot as it turned the corner around the square. I poked Jake with my foot, hard. He stood up and shook himself, jangling the tags on his collar.
“Look who’s awake,” I said. “Hey, Till. Would you mind taking the dog out one more time before you leave? I need to finish this letter.”
“No problemo. Come on, Jakey.”
She clipped on his leash and went out the back door. She usually took him into the alley to sniff up and down the block. That meant I had about five minutes to interrogate her husband behind her back.
Such planning; such intrigue. Wouldn’t my folks be proud? But I had to do it. Ben seemed more likely to follow Diana’s lead in the ill-considered shenanigans that went on after Roger died, however that happened, than level-headed Dare or Ty.
Ben had the shape of a former football player who spent more time on the couch than the field these days. His boyish face was turning to fat around the jaw line.
“Hey, Penny. Where’s my wife?”
“She took the dog out for a spin. She’ll be back in a minute.”
“How’re things going?”
“Can’t complain. I took some nice shots of the Lazy H yesterday.”
“You did? What’d you use, the Canon 7D?”
Ben was an amateur photographer who fancied himself a borderline pro, not entirely without reason. He’d entered a few photos in contests and won a prize or two. He’d gotten interested in black and white photography last winter and had even borrowed my darkroom a few times.
I showed him some pictures that I’d taken at the springs on Ty’s ranch, turning the monitor his way so he could see.
“These are pretty good,” he allowed.
“You ever been there?”
“To Leaping Springs? Sure.” He looked at me like I’d asked if he’d ever drunk milk. “Probably everybody around here has, one time or another. They used to have people out for birthday parties and whatnot. And I used to date Diana, you know.”
