Junior steepled his fingers together. “Keep the dog with you. We’ve got a murderer running loose in this town.”
Blood rushed in my ears. “Do you know who killed Judge Sterling?”
His dark eyes bored into me. “I know enough to carry a gun. A pretty gal like you needs protection.”
Protection? Or what? I’d be wearing concrete boots? Cars zipped by on the street. I didn’t care for this man. He was too familiar, too much in the know, and too smug. I wished I didn’t have to deal with him. I could easily envision him killing a man.
Junior nodded toward the jail. “This time of day, Ike allows his prisoners a walk in the fenced exercise yard behind the jail. If you go over there right now, you’ll probably be able to see your dad.”
I did a double-take. In my mind, I’d convicted him of being a bad guy, and he was being nice to me? “Thanks for the tip.”
Confused about Junior’s true nature, I dashed across the street.
Daddy saw me, came over, and placed his hand on the inner chain link fence. The concertina wire atop the outer fence hovered over us like a bad dream.
“You didn’t have to come,” Daddy said.
“Yes, I did. I can’t believe you’re here.”
“My lawyer says their case is circumstantial.”
“You didn’t do it.” I said.
“I’ve covered many trials.” He frowned. “All that matters is I look guilty.”
Not in my book. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”
“No. I want you back in Atlanta as soon as possible.”
Daddy was protecting me? “I can take care of myself.”
“I need you to be safe.”
My fingers gripped the wire. “I’ll be careful. Everyone in the family is helping.”
Daddy shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the grass. “What’ve you got so far?”
“Secrets. Adultery. Resentment towards the judge.”
“Alan ticked people off. Me included.”
“Which brings me full circle. Why was he murdered?”
“That saw mill. He wanted to put it mid-county.”
“Near the shrimp dock?”
“Exactly.”
My family owned land out there, but the Sterlings owned more. After my father and I talked a few more minutes, the sheriff waved Daddy inside. Ike caught my eye. “Don’t leave, Linds. You and I need to talk.”
I waited in the parking lot. Ike emerged and escorted me to the shade. “You’ll overheat out here.”
The sun wasn’t heating my blood as much as the man beside me. “I’m acclimatizing.”
“I heard you’ve been asking people about the judge.”
I blinked in surprise. Dang. So much for the family’s stealth investigation.
He must have guessed the direction of my thoughts. “Small town. Look. The evidence points to your father. Leave the town’s dirty laundry hidden where it belongs.”
My hands balled into fists. “Daddy didn’t kill anyone.”
He loomed over me. “He threatened to kill the judge, and now Alan Sterling’s dead. That’s motive. He can’t account for his time that night, that’s opportunity. The weapon belonged to him, and it had his fingerprints on it. That’s means. I did my job.”
I had things to do. Ice cream to buy. “I’m aware of your opinion. Later.”
He snagged my arm, gently holding me in place. “I wasn’t finished.”
“I am.”
He sighed. “I want to take you out to dinner.”
As long as he thought Daddy was guilty, Ike was the enemy. “Not happening.”
His gaze softened. “It took you a few moments. I’m making progress.”
My heart fluttered, and I couldn’t make it stop. “I took a moment because you think my father is a murderer.”
His finger skimmed the scooped neckline of my lace top. “You had nothing to do with the murder.”
Yowsers. My whole system went haywire at his caress. I yanked my sunglasses out of my hair and shoved them on. “Neither did my father. Goodbye, Sheriff.”
~*~
I laid my mail on the Post Office counter. The lobby was blissfully free of patrons. Aunt Fay sidled up to her postal clerk stool and leaned toward me so we could talk.
“The motel manager hates the whole town,” I said. “And the bail bondsman confuses me. Both of them seem wound too tight.”
“No news there. Janey says you’re planning to talk to Trish Sterling soon.”
“Given Janey’s experience as a spurned woman, she believes the widow had motive to kill her husband.”
“Trish should be questioned.” Aunt Fay patted my hand. “Will we get the knife back? It was my father’s before he gave it to George.”
“I doubt it, but good thing Grandpop’s prints wore off, or else Ike would’ve charged him with murder.”
“Don’t tease me, Lindsey.” With a groan, Aunt Fay clutched her heart. “What about that Harper boy?”
Back to matchmaking were we? I worked my back teeth apart. “Ike believes he’s irresistible. I assure you he is very resistible.”
“Too bad. The two of you would be a nice match.”
This wasn’t productive. I switched conversational gears. “What about your inquiries? What about the bridge club?”
“We meet tonight. You should come.”
Aunt Fay’s bridge club started and ended most local rumors. I’d rather eat worms. “No, thanks.”
Chapter 7
As I left work late that evening, the sky glowed like molten fire. The bail money had cleared in late afternoon, and Daddy’s lawyer drove him home. That suited me just fine. Ellen and I had worked late to finish another edition of the paper, and I needed some time without Daddy to decompress.
But when I pulled into the drive at dusk, I saw we had company. A black sedan.
Trish Sterling’s car. The scorned woman herself. What was she doing here?
With my lab in tow, I slunk around the house, stood in the azaleas, and peeked in the family room window. Daddy sat in his plaid recliner with Trish’s terrier in his lap, while Trish sat on the sofa. Two half empty cocktail glasses rested on the coffee table.
The nerve of that woman. Daddy didn’t need a drinking buddy. Anger fueled my steps into the house. Bailey pranced along at my side. “Trish, what a surprise.”
The dark circles were gone from Trish’s eyes. Her polished appearance reminded me of someone on a date, from the coastal casual attire, to the cloying perfume, and the bright red toenails peeking out of her beaded sandals. What were her intentions toward my dad?
Trish rose abruptly. “Lindsey, how are you?”
“Fine.” Bailey jerked her leash out of my hand and raced over to greet our company. Trish foiled a crotch sniff and collected her dog in one fell swoop.
Daddy glared at me. “Trish knows I didn’t kill her husband.”
Air huffed out my nostrils. Frankly, I was surprised flames weren’t also shooting out.
Trish edged toward the door, looking guilty as sin. “Your business advice is excellent, George. Look at the time. I should be going.”
After Trish hit the road, Daddy lit into me. “You embarrassed me. Trish is my friend.”
Between the horror of Daddy’s arrest, meeting with two potential killers, and birthing another paper, I had exhausted my patience. “Drinking got you into this mess.”
He drained his glass and hers. “I don’t have a drinking problem.”
I grabbed the empty glasses, trying to get my voice and feelings under control. “You’re charged with murder. You can’t drink that reality away.”
“Wasn’t planning on drinking very much. Only drank enough to be sociable.”
“It looked quite cozy in here. How friendly are you and Trish?”
“I don’t like your tone, young lady.”
“Daddy, what if Trish killed her husband and framed you?
“Trish wouldn’t do that. We’re friends.”
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“What do you two do together?”
He shot me a searing look. The truth hit me like a bushel of oysters. “You’re having an affair with Trish?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“We’re friends.”
My father was involved with the dead man’s widow? “What were you thinking? What would Mama say?”
“Lottie and I are overdue for a long talk when she gets home. Trish lived in hell for thirty years. Alan told her if she left he’d make sure she never got custody of their kids or any of the money.” He sighed. “We’re lonely. And adults. We enjoy each other’s company.”
“You are having an affair with her. For how long? Thirty years?”
Daddy blanched. “My friendship with Trish was platonic until recently.”
No wonder the sheriff thought Daddy was guilty. “What if she set you up?”
“Trish wouldn’t do that,” Daddy repeated. But this time, he didn’t sound as sure.
“Someone murdered the judge in cold blood with your knife. In my mind, everyone outside our family is guilty until proven innocent.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Whoever did this knows things.” I glared at him. “They knew about your argument with the judge.”
He barked out a mangled laugh. “The meeting was televised.”
Didn’t he get it? We were trying to save him. “Stay away from Trish until we know who did this.”
“Are you sure you’re my sweet daughter? Because you sound like your Aunt Fay.”
He was smiling at me. He was trying. The least I could do was believe in him. I wanted to believe in him. But Daddy’s affair with Trish gave him yet another motive to kill the judge.
~*~
Unable to be civil to Trish just yet, I decided to check out the saw mill angle with Cousin Janey and my dog. The familiar dock aromas of brine, tar, and diesel fuel insinuated themselves in my lungs as we stepped out of my car. Bailey sniffed along the bluff and barked happily at sea gulls wheeling overhead.
“Let me see if I understand,” I said. “The judge owns this property, and the Fishing Association leases it. If the saw mill is allowed to operate here, the judge would evict these shrimpers?”
Janey nodded. “The saw mill people need the dock.”
The three boats tied at the dock were a small portion of the fishing fleet. From growing up in Morrison County, I knew six to eight boats typically docked here, depending on the season. “Where would the fishermen go?”
Janey shrugged. “To other docks. To other states. The judge didn’t care.”
“I bet the shrimpers were hot. Didn’t they speak out against the saw mill?”
“Jeb Turner from the Fishing Association had glossy brochures printed to explain why this was a bad idea. I was impressed at his impassioned plea to the County Commissioners.”
“These fishermen had a stronger motive for murder than Daddy. They were fighting for their livelihood, whereas Daddy protested the action on principle.”
Janey peered over her sunglasses at me. “You know that’s not true. Uncle George went after the judge because of you. The adjacent land is yours. Uncle George fell on his sword for you.”
I’d forgotten. A breath hissed between my clenched teeth. Daddy wanted to keep that parcel of land in a quiet neighborhood because of me. Because he wanted me to settle out here.
“Now I feel awful.” I stared at the oyster-lined mud bank and listened to the gulls overhead. “Maybe Jeb can update us on the saw mill status.”
Janey nodded to the house-like portion of the dock. “Jeb is inside, unloading the boats as they return.”
I whistled to Bailey, and we walked toward the dock. Janey entered the factory house first. “Jeb, you remember my cousin, Lindsey?”
Jeb looked up from shoveling crushed ice into wooden crates of headed shrimp. “Sure do. Good to see you both.”
I babysat for Jeb’s kids during my teens. His warm smile filled my heart. “Hey, Mr. Turner. How’re the kids?”
“Call me Jeb.” He leaned on his shovel and bragged about his daughters. When he wound down, I said, “I heard the dock lease might not get renewed.”
“Alan Sterling tried to destroy a hundred-year-old industry. No way.” He looked me square in the eye. “Sterling was a boil on the county’s butt. I’m sorry George got caught. He shouldn’t be punished for his public service.”
“The sheriff had it wrong. Daddy was framed, and we’re gonna get that straightened out. Meanwhile, I’m following up on potential stories for the next paper. Is the saw mill issue resolved?”
Jeb nodded at me as if I wasn’t here poking around in his business looking for motives. “We got another notice from the group’s lawyers yesterday. They intend to file against us in court.”
He spoke as forthrightly and naturally as he usually did. If he was the killer, he’d fooled me. I had no choice but to follow up on my cover story. “You’re addressing the concerns through legal channels?”
“They came in here threatening us with legal documents. That’s the only weapon they respect. We’ll fight them with every dime we’ve got.”
A legal battle. Didn’t sound the same as a knife fight. The shrimpers had a grievance, but they seemed focused on judicial battles. Granted, someone could’ve acted individually and stabbed the judge, but it seemed unlikely. Especially since the legal jousting hadn’t been resolved by the judge’s death.
Dock hands milled around us. I got the distinct feeling we were in the way. “Good to know. Keep me posted on your status with the saw mill battle. It was great seeing you again, Jeb.”
“Y’all drop by anytime.” Jeb waved goodbye. “Nice dog.”
Janey and I piled into my Volvo, Bailey lounged across the whole back seat. “Well?” I asked.
My cousin clipped on her seatbelt. “The commercial fishermen had reason to kill the judge. He was destroying their way of life. You heard Jeb say the judge’s killer performed a public service.”
“It goes back to property ownership,” I added, as I eased down the dirt road. “At the dock and the motel.”
“The judge wanted to repurpose the dock, and who knows what he wanted to do at the motel. We need more pieces of this puzzle.”
“How will we get them?”
“We keep digging.”
Chapter 8
Five-thirty and I was nowhere near done for the day, when Ellen burst into my office with her three blonde-headed kids in tow. “That jerk,” she whispered.
“Thomas?” I asked.
“He got a large shipment from Standard Marine yesterday. New nets. How can he afford them?”
Her little girls looked confused. I beamed at the oldest one and handed her my dog’s leash. “Wendy, would you take Bailey for a walk out back?”
Wendy glanced at her mom for approval, and Ellen nodded. “Hold hands with your sisters and stay away from the river.”
The girls scurried out of the office with Bailey in tow.
“Thanks,” Ellen said, when we were alone. “I shouldn’t talk about their father like that in front of them.”
“What did he say about the nets?” I asked.
“I was so angry I couldn’t speak.” Fury lit her eyes as she paced the office. “He’s a snake.”
I’d never seen her this upset before. But she didn’t seem beaten down by her anger. She looked energized.
“How can I help?” I asked.
“Maybe you should go down there and ask him where he got the money. You could do it on the pretense of an article. Maybe you could even give him a heart attack by asking him if his boat was docked when the judge died. Serve him right.”
Jumping in the middle of a domestic dispute wasn’t smart, but maybe it would provide another lead for the murder investigation. “Did Thomas even know the judge?”
“In passing. They weren’t friends.”
I owed Ellen for keeping the paper going this year.
What difference would a few pointed questions make? “I’ll interview him about shrimping, see if he sounds truthful.”
Ellen stopped pacing. “Thanks.”
~*~
“Anybody here?”
Great. Another visitor.
After Ellen and her kids had left an hour ago, I’d thrown myself into accounting mode. I would never get out of here tonight at this rate. My dog trotted to the reception area. I followed her.
Ike Harper squatted by Bailey, stroking her head.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
He stood and his warm gaze traveled the full length of my dress, all the way down to my strappy red sandals. “You sure are pretty. Why are you working so late?”
“Administrative duties,” I said. “I’m still trying to right the ship.”
“All work and no play isn’t good for anyone.” He glanced at his feet and then back at me. “How about you and Bailey join Trent and me for a day of fishing tomorrow?”
“In a boat?” I couldn’t catch my breath.
“I’ve got a little jon boat. Nothing fancy, but we like it.” A slow smile filled his face. “Care to join us?”
“No, thanks.” Somehow I managed to speak in a normal voice. “I have other plans.”
He studied me closely. “You feeling all right?”
“Actually, I’m beat. I should go home right now.”
“I’m sorry you can’t make it.” He rubbed his neck. “My son wants a dog like Bailey.”
Trent loved animals, and my dog loved the water. I chewed my lip. “Bailey can go. Why don’t you pick her up in the morning?”
“Thanks. Maybe you’ll change your mind and come with us?”
I blanched at the thought. “I don’t plan to ever get on another boat.”
Understanding dawned on his face. The crinkles at the side of his eyes disappeared. “Gosh, Lindsey, I’m sorry to dredge up the past.”
“I just can’t.” Drat. My voice was shaking. My eyes were watering. I couldn’t fall apart now.
Ike stepped forward. “Don’t,” I started, but he shushed me, enfolded me in a big hug, and held me close. Tears streamed down my face. It had been so long since someone held me. It felt so good. Maybe I wouldn’t be empty forever.
Really, Truly Dead Page 4
