“It was found in the barn loft she fell from,” Michael said mildly. “Would you know how it got there?”
Travis went so white Michael thought he was going to pass out. He swallowed and said loudly, “No! How should I . . .” He swallowed again. “You mean someone stole it from me and then hid it in the Princes’ barn loft?”
“It wasn’t hidden. When Christine Ireland discovered Patricia’s body, music was playing on it. Later we found it set out in plain view and surrounded by candles. Lit candles.”
Travis stared at him, opened his mouth, then closed it. He lifted his hands.
“Are you still saying you don’t know how it got there, Mr. Burke?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I have absolutely no idea how it got there. How should I?”
“According to one source, Patricia Prince had a lover. She used to meet him in the barn.”
Travis leaned forward aggressively. “Who says it was me? It wasn’t me! Who’s this source?”
“I can’t reveal that.” Michael wondered how Travis would react if he told him the source was Jeremy Ireland. Michael could probably guess. Travis would relax, because he didn’t believe anyone would take Jeremy seriously. Christine had told him she sensed Travis didn’t like Jeremy, although he tried to hide it. “I just wondered if you knew anything about Mrs. Prince’s affair, Mr. Burke.”
“Positively not!” Travis stated.
“Because it was your boom box that was up in the barn loft. Playing music. Candles set around it.”
“I told you that boom box was stolen.”
“But you didn’t report it. And nothing else was taken from you.”
“That’s right. The CD player was stolen. Nothing else. There wasn’t anything else in the car to take.”
“And you didn’t want to bother making out a police report on just a boom box.”
“That’s right.” Travis lifted his chin a bit. “Is that all you had to ask me, Deputy?”
“No. Would you mind telling me where you were around one o’clock on the afternoon of Patricia Prince’s death?”
“I do mind, but I’ll tell you anyway. I was at the university. In my office, but I’m sure dozens of people saw me. At least, a few.”
“Good.”
“Yes. A lot of people can give me an alibi.”
“That’s fine, sir.”
“Now listen, Deputy, I really can’t help you with this Patricia Prince thing. And now that I know where my boom box was found, I don’t care about having it back. I don’t want it back!”
“I wasn’t offering it. For now it’s evidence. We’ll see what Sheriff Teague says later about giving it back to you.”
“I just told you I don’t want the damned thing back!”
“All right, Mr. Burke,” Michael said calmly.
“Is that all? Are we done?”
“Let me see.” Michael looked back at his notebook. “Oh, there’s one more thing. Did Dara Prince call you Snake Charmer?”
This was it. This was what Travis had been expecting to be asked right off the bat. But now he was unprepared and he sat blinking as he mentally shifted gears. “Dara Prince? I hardly knew her.”
“Or Patricia Prince.”
“That’s right. Two women in town whom I had contact with but hardly knew. Is that a crime?”
“No. I didn’t accuse you of a crime. I just wondered about this nickname. Snake Charmer.”
“I’ve heard that some students called me that for a while. I think the name died down.”
“So it’s not a widely known nickname.”
“I said some students called me that. Do you know how many students are at Winston University?”
“Around thirteen thousand.”
“Yes. There you go.”
“But you said use of the nickname had died down.”
“To the best of my knowledge. Probably some students still call me that. A lot of them could be calling me that.” Travis paused. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Dara Prince was involved with someone she called Snake Charmer.”
All Michael really knew was that Dara had been involved with someone she’d identified as S.C. But Christine thought in hindsight that Dara had at least had a crush on Travis and had gone by his office not acting like the typical student. And Michael was certain enough of Christine’s instincts to not worry about stretching the truth to see Travis’s reaction.
And the reaction was worth it. Travis first looked as if he were going to splutter out an indignantly defensive denial that would make him sound guilty. Then he got hold of himself. A caginess appeared in his gaze. “I’ve never heard that in the three years since she disappeared. Who suddenly came up with this so-called information?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Again. You’re certainly at liberty to make accusations.”
“I haven’t made any accusations. I’ve just asked questions.”
“Your accusations are implied.”
Michael startled Travis by laughing. “Well, now, sir, you’re going to lose me if you get into all this implied and inferred business. That’s for the lawyers. I’m just here to ask a few questions like a simple cop should.”
Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Simple cop, my ass. You know a lot, but you’re not telling anything.”
“A lot about what, sir?”
“A lot about what people are saying about me!”
“I think you have a case of paranoia going there, Mr. Burke.”
“Do I need a lawyer? Because Sloane Caldwell is a good friend of mine. I can get him here like that!” Travis snapped his fingers.
Michael smiled. “You can call him if you like, but I have only one more question. By the time he gets here, your wife might be back.”
“Okay. One more question. One.”
“Were you romantically involved with Patricia Prince or Dara Prince?”
“No! For God’s sake! And I resent—”
“All right, sir. You can sit here and resent all you want when I’m gone. I just had to get a few answers.” Michael stood. “Sorry to bother you,” he said pleasantly, as if this had been a friendly visit. “You take good care of that little girl. Did you say her name was Jan?”
“What? Yes. Jan. But—”
“I’ll bet she’s a cutie. Well, good day to you, Mr. Burke.”
As Michael walked to the police cruiser, he glanced back at Travis Burke. He stood in the doorway staring at Michael. He looked dreadful, Michael noted, almost sick.
4
The minutes following Jeremy’s outburst at the funeral had been agony for Travis. Bethany had stalked ahead of him to the car. He’d asked if she wanted to drive and she’d refused—an extremely bad sign. After they’d driven about a mile, Travis had lowered the music volume and said, “Bethany, let’s talk about this.” She’d responded by leaning forward and turning up the volume until the New Age sound of John Tesh, whom Travis detested, boomed through the car. They’d driven the rest of the way home with the car windows nearly rattling from the sound waves and Bethany’s seething.
He’d made another attempt at détente after they’d paid the baby-sitter and sent her on her way. “Beth, if you would let me explain—”
“I think you’ve said enough for one day,” Bethany had snapped after settling Jan down on her canopied bed with a cup of apple juice and her coloring book and secondfavorite green crayon, and then stomping off to their bedroom.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t said anything.” Travis had pursued her to the bedroom. “Jeremy Ireland has done all the talking.”
“And he spoke volumes.”
“Oh yes, that impeccable source Jeremy Ireland,” Travis had said witheringly.
“He said Dara called you Snake Charmer.”
“So? A lot of students did. Still do.”
“He said you liked Dara a lot.”
“Well, Jeremy would certainly be an expert on my feelings.
We’re such good friends. Best buddies.” Travis had rolled his eyes in disdain. “Beth, he’s retarded! What does he know?”
“He’s mentally challenged, he is not a vegetable. I think he reads people quite well, not to mention that Dara probably told him things.”
“Dara Prince—a paragon of truth, an astute analyzer of other people’s emotions—talking things over with the highly intelligent and perceptive Jeremy Ireland. That would be a conversation to intimidate even the gods!” Bethany had glared at him. “Look, Beth, even if Dara thought I particularly liked her, it wasn’t true. You know what an inflated ego she had.”
“No. I didn’t know her that well.”
“Christine told us about her. She said Dara thought half the men in town were smitten with her.”
“Nice try, but it won’t work. I sensed something when Dara was your student, Travis,” Bethany had said as she began removing the suit she’d worn to the funeral. “And after that body washed up from the river, you said her name in your sleep.”
“Oh. I said Dara. I didn’t slur like most people who talk in their sleep. I distinctly said Dara.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I wish I’d had a tape recorder running.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t, Beth. You have always been suspicious of me and female students.”
“Maybe I’ve had reason to be.” Bethany had hung up her suit with the careful precision that indicated suppressed fury. “I remember how you pursued me when I was your student.”
“I wasn’t married to someone else, dammit!”
“Keep your voice down. Jan is in the next room.”
“You’re talking as loud as I am.”
“I am not. And I don’t wish to discuss this any longer. I’m going to my father’s.”
“You’re moving out?”
Bethany had whirled on him. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d be free to play your little games. Who is it this time? Another nubile nineteen-year-old?”
“I’m not involved with anyone, Beth, and you know it. Don’t go to your father’s now.”
Then, to make matters worse, the doorbell had rung. Bethany had thrown him a damning look, as if she expected it to be Dara herself come calling. “Who could that be?” Travis had asked. “Did you invite anyone to come after the funeral?”
“Not specifically, although I mentioned to a couple of people I thought it was awful that Ames Prince wasn’t holding some kind of after-service gathering. Maybe it’s Chris and Jeremy.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Travis had said. “Just who I want to see—Jeremy.”
But to his surprise and relief, it was Tess and Reynaldo Cimino. “I hope we’re not intruding,” Tess had said. “I just didn’t want to go home.”
Bethany had looked nonplussed for a moment, then quickly recovered. “We’re happy you dropped by, aren’t we, Travis?”
Travis had nodded, although he wasn’t at all happy about the visit. Neither was Rey, by the looks of him. Travis had noted that Cimino’s locally famous drop-dead looks were dimmed by a slightly gray skin tone and eyes reddened by sleep deprivation. Even his small smile at Bethany was tight and forced.
“I’m in the mood for Baileys Irish Cream,” Bethany had said lightly. Her guests would never know that fifteen minutes earlier she’d been in a rage. “Can I interest anyone else in joining me?”
Everyone else was interested. While Tess and Bethany fixed drinks, Travis and Rey had sat down in the living room. They weren’t good friends, but they were friendly, and the Ciminos had come to dinner a couple of times a year and to Bethany’s annual Christmas party. Rey had even taken a tour of the snake house with Travis and seemed extremely interested in them, not afraid or repulsed like a lot of people. Travis had begun to like the guy then, although he was a bit envious of Cimino’s looks. But Travis had felt distinctly uncomfortable today with Rey as they sat waiting for their drinks. He hoped Rey hadn’t heard Jeremy blast out that Dara had called Travis Snake Charmer and that Travis had especially liked Dara. After all, Cimino had been in love with Dara at the time she’d gone missing. But Rey’s hard, dark stare and monosyllabic replies to conversation attempts had let Travis know Rey had heard Jeremy loud and clear.
“That was the most dismal funeral service I’ve ever attended,” Travis had begun when everyone settled in the living room. “No reception afterward. Patricia’s plot placed so far away from Ames’s. Strange.”
“I think Ames knew Patricia was having an affair,” Bethany had pronounced.
“Affair?” Tess had echoed. “I never heard about an affair.”
Her face had stiffened and her voice had turned high and insincere. Travis had given her a searching look and suddenly realized she had known Patricia Prince was having an affair and she’d known it for a while, not just since Patricia’s death. But why was she acting so odd? Did she think the affair had been with Rey?
Conversation had limped along. Travis had desperately wished the Ciminos would leave after one drink. Rey looked like he would have gladly picked up the alabaster ashtray on the coffee table and smashed his wife on the head with it when she’d accepted Bethany’s offer of a second drink. Afterward there was more meandering, stilted conversation. Everyone had nearly fallen on Jan when she entered the room carrying a teddy bear and her coloring book. “We have comp’ny,” she’d said in her adult little voice. “No one told me we have comp’ny. How do you do?”
Gushing. Compliments. Baby talk from Bethany and Tess. A lackluster, “What are you going to be when you grow up?” from Rey.
“A artist,” Jan had answered firmly. “I’m gonna send my pictures to New York City to hang in a gowery where people can pay money to go in and see them and buy them. I’m gonna make tons of money and buy lots of puppies and kittens. And diamond earrings.”
Everyone had laughed at the adorable child, who looked confused. She didn’t see anything amusing about what she’d just said. Then, to Travis’s huge relief, she’d yawned loudly.
“We should go. Jan needs a nap,” Tess had said.
“I’ll just use the bathroom first, if you don’t mind,” Rey had said. “Be back in a minute.”
A minute had turned into ten. “I don’t know what’s taking him so long,” Tess had fretted after the first six minutes. “He hasn’t been well lately. Maybe I should check on him.”
The poor guy wasn’t even allowed to go to the bathroom in private, Travis thought, although he was nearly fidgeting with anxiety. He wanted these two out of his house. Something was wrong. There was an agenda for this visit, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Did it have anything to do with Jeremy’s announcement at the cemetery? God, he hoped not.
But when Rey came back and his gaze met Travis’s, Travis felt jolted by its cold hatred. Travis flushed. Now he was certain that Cimino knew he’d been having an affair with Dara at the time of her disappearance. But he couldn’t know she was pregnant. Or did he?
Travis broke into a swift, drenching sweat. He shifted his gaze to Tess. She was watching him and Rey closely. Then her mouth had stretched in a false smile. “Well, now it’s definitely time for us to go.” She stood up and looked at the child. “Jan, you’re a doll. Beth, do drop in the store next week. I have a new shipment of books coming in I think you’ll like. Rey, come on. Do you need for me to drive?”
“You had more to drink than I did,” Rey had said grimly. “I’ll do the driving.”
As soon as the Ciminos cleared the driveway, Bethany had picked up her purse. “I’m going to Dad’s now. He’ll be wondering where I am.”
Travis wanted to be alone, but he also knew Bethany’s visit to Hugh could make the home situation even worse. “Bethany, I really wish you’d stay here,” he said. “You’re already mad at me and he gets you even more fired up.”
“Don’t blame Dad for our problems. He’s never been anything but supportive of our marriage.”
“I hope tha
t was a joke,” Travis had said dryly.
She’d given him the slitty-eyed look that meant she was mad as hell. “I’m just going for an afternoon visit. I promised him.” She’d searched her purse for her car keys. “I can’t take Jan. Dad has an awful cold. Maybe the flu. You’ll have to stay here and baby-sit.” She’d looked at him challengingly. “That won’t cramp your style, will it?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Travis had muttered. “Run to Daddy if you must. Pour out your troubles, your paranoid suspicions, your stories of imagined infidelities. Get the old guy all whipped up. Make him dislike me even more. Maybe that will make you feel justified and happy and you’ll act a little more bearable when you get home.”
“That is an offensive thing to say, Travis Burke. And while I’m gone, don’t you dare take Jan to that snake house.”
“I have never taken Jan to the snake house and I won’t until she’s older.”
“Not then, either. Not ever.”
“Beth, she’s my child, too.”
“Then start acting like a father.”
“When have I not acted like a father? Just tell me when I haven’t acted like a good and devoted father.”
Bethany had ignored him and headed straight for Jan, who was now sitting on the couch coloring assiduously. “Mommy’s gonna go visit Grandpa, who’s too sick to see his baby-waby,” she’d babbled in baby talk, which set Travis’s teeth on edge. “Mommy will be back quick as a bunny. Until then, you do everything Daddy-Waddy tells you to, except not going to that nasty old snake house where you might get eaten all up by the nasty old snakes with their horrible, dripping fangs.” After painting this ghastly picture, she’d kissed Jan’s forehead. “Bye-bye, candy cane.”
“Candy cane,” Travis had mumbled. “Sounds like the name of a stripper.”
Bethany had glared. “You would know more about the names of strippers than I.”
“Oh, for—”
“Take care of her, Travis.”
“I will. God, Beth, she’s my—”
The front door had slammed behind Bethany. He’d looked at Jan, who’d shrugged like a sophisticated adult, then returned to her coloring.
If She Should Die Page 30
