“We need to find out who he was. You’re sure the guy who was talking when you left was the same guy who answered the door?”
I nodded. “Definitely. And I know one thing.”
“What’s that?” He shut his laptop. Goodness, his eyes were so deep and chocolate-colored I felt like I could drown in them.
“I definitely don’t want my sister dating Tyler. Corrupt elected officials are a dime a dozen in Florida, and I wouldn’t be at all shocked if Tyler is ethically challenged. But I can’t say that to my sister, who’s probably infatuated with him.”
“What do you think she sees in him, anyway?”
This was the million-dollar question. “Vera tends to like anyone who likes her. She doesn’t think she can do better because of her skin condition and her poor self-esteem.”
“It’s not that visible. She’s pretty pale.”
“Exactly. Vitiligo’s much more emotionally difficult for people with black and brown skin. But I think she just gets self-conscious because it spreads without warning, then goes into remission. Her hands are totally white now, and her shoulders, too. She loves being out in the sun but that makes her normal pigment darker. When we were in high school, she would cry and cry that she couldn’t get a bronze tan like the other girls. I used to feel guilty...”
My voice trailed off as I remembered those days. I hadn’t thought of them in years.
“Why did you feel guilty?” he asked.
“Because we were twins, but I didn’t share the skin condition. Only twenty-five percent of twins with vitiligo share the condition, we found out. It made me feel terrible because until that point, we had shared everything in life. We both used to love swimming and were on the swim team in high school, but she quit because she didn’t want to show her speckled skin in a bathing suit. I quit in solidarity, because I didn’t want to be tan while she was pale.” I shrugged. “It was fine with me, because I preferred reading and talking about books with her anyway. I kinda always hated after-school practices.”
“Have you always defended your sister?”
I nodded, slipping silently into all the times I’d stuck up for Vera in school. Now I felt even worse about being gone for years, leaving her to fend for herself.
“And yet you two trapped gators outdoors in the bright Florida sun with your dad. Interesting.”
“When she got her first white spots on her fingers, she didn’t want to go out trapping with our dad because she was worried she’d look weird. But I pleaded with her and we covered up with long sleeves, hats, and pants. I think we single-handedly kept the army surplus store in business.” I smiled, thinking of how we’d probably looked like mini versions of Steve Irwin but had made so many memories with Dad. “But that’s a long way of explaining why she jumped at the chance to date Tyler. Who bullied her mercilessly in high school. Shit. What am I going to do about this?”
He paused to take a sip of coffee. “It might behoove us not to tell Vera about what we’ve discovered about Tyler yet.”
“Why? At the least, he probably orchestrated some election shenanigans. Oh, and great use of the word behoove. I haven’t heard it in a sentence in eons.”
He flashed me a smile. “Thanks. About your sister, I was thinking that if we could get her on board with our sleuthing, she could be an informant of sorts. I’ll bet she knows more about Tyler than she’s letting on. Or could find things out for us.”
I sank back into the sofa cushion and gnawed on my thumbnail. The idea of using Vera as a honey trap didn’t sit well with me. But what if she did have additional info about him, details she hadn’t shared? That left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, more so than the black coffee.
“I’ll have to think on that for a few hours. Isn’t there something we can do, someone we can talk with, in the meantime? What about that candidate, David H. Smith?”
“Or Dave Smith, the former council member. He’s the loser, and he probably has heard some gossip. Do you know him?” Jack opened the computer and made a few clicks. He turned the laptop toward me. A photo of a smiling older man with silver hair was on the screen.
I shook my head. “He looks about my dad’s age. Probably Dad knew him, since he knew everyone. Does it say how long he’s been in town?”
“Says here that he owns a doggie daycare and training center. Oh, here. He moved to Wahoo three years ago, was elected a year later to the council. He just finished his two-year term.”
“We could use the podcast excuse to chat with him. I thought that was pretty smart,” I grinned.
Jack let out a laugh. “It was. This guy doesn’t look like the podcast type, though. Also, we’re not asking him about Gene’s death. We’re trying to find out about the election.”
“True.” I tried not to check out Jack’s muscular forearms as I pondered the situation. “If only we had a dog.”
“I know. We could inquire about training.”
“For a fake dog?” I chewed on my cheek.
“No, for Catsy.”
I squinted. “Catsy’s a cat. She can’t be trained. She’s ungovernable.”
