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“He was and that’s just how he acted.”
“Was he inside the cabin since the crime tape came down?”
“Him and everybody else. Came right after you two left yesterday. And he was back today, standing there watching, him and Robin, while the sheriff’s department dragged Wendy in. I’m telling you, they got it wrong—”
Before she could go another round of that refrain, I hurried on. “You said he came sweeping out—”
“He did. All high and mighty and—”
“No. Wait. Go back. Which day?”
“Yesterday,” she said, impatient. “Just told you. After you two left.”
“Tell us exactly what you saw.”
“Him coming out of Keefe’s cabin, like I said — that’s exactly what I saw. I asked him what he thought he was doing and he got all high-handed about seeing what he was getting for his money and I told him—”
Her voice faded into the background as Diana and I looked at each other.
“We could wait until we see what Jennifer has from what you and I shot,” she said. “That would support us saying there was no paper sticking out from behind the painting yesterday.”
“But she’s not doing that until after enhancing the copy of the newspaper interview. Even if we told her now to rush it...”
“And you don’t want to wait.”
We have to go to the sheriff’s department.
As the thought formed, I said it aloud.
There was no forming-a-thought gap before Brenda said, “Go the sheriff’s department? Not a chance. I’m staying here. Somebody’s got to stay here.”
Following the direction of her gaze to Suzie Q lying on the porch, I was already hitting speed dial on my phone.
“We’ll take care of her.”
I swore to myself when I heard the voice answer on the other end.
Ferrante. He was the embodiment of the word no in human form. I don’t know how he and his wife — a very nice woman — ever had kids considering his hundred percent turn-down ratio.
I could have clicked off. But never let it be said I didn’t cross every ‘t’, dot every ‘i’, as well as ram my head into every brick wall.
“It is vital that I talk to Sergeant Shelton immediately. Vital for him and—”
“He is not available.”
“He will not thank you for—”
“He is not available. I’ll tell him you called.” Click.
That result was so predictable, I was already onto the next step.
First, I texted Richard Alvaro’s number, figuring he’d more likely check that, even if he wasn’t inclined to answer a phone.
URGENT. Going to call you. ANSWER.
I did and he did.
“Elizabeth, I’m busy.”
