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“They are a little black and blue. The bruises on my legs don’t hurt that much,” she replied. “And before you know it, they’ll be gone.”

His scowl eased somewhat. “Are you always so optimistic?”

“I try to be. Mom always told us that we could choose to be either happy or sad. So, most days I choose to be happy. You might try it sometime.”

“How friendly are you with George Trahan?”

She looked at him, surprised by the unexpected question and unsurprised by him ignoring her final statement. “I’m always friendly when we run into each other, but I wouldn’t consider him a close friend of mine. Why?”

“Last night after you went to bed, he came skulking around my back door. He said he was peeking in to see if it was a good time for him to come in and visit with you and make sure you were okay.”

“That’s a bit odd, but George has been a little off ever since his girlfriend tried to kill my sister. Maybe my attack brought back some bad memories, and he wanted to check on me.”

“Maybe,” he replied dubiously. “Or is it possible George killed your mother and he found out what we were doing by eavesdropping at my shanty’s open windows?”

George? Was it possible he had not only murdered her mother but he’d also tried to beat her to death? A small shiver worked up her spine at this thought.

“At this point I think anything is possible,” she finally replied. “The one thing that does make sense is how somebody knew what we were up to in getting the donated books. Somebody must have heard our conversation through your open windows.”

“That’s the one thing that finally makes sense,” he agreed.

“I’d like to pick your brain about the rest of the people we had on our list of suspects. I’ve also got a couple of names to add.”

“How about we eat lunch first and then we can talk about it?” he replied. “That way if the conversation makes me lose my appetite, I will have already eaten.” He got out of his chair, and she followed him into the kitchen area.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s just going to be sandwiches again,” he said.

“That’s fine with me.”

They ate their sandwiches and then returned to the living room. Her pain came on a little stronger, and she would have liked to take a pill. But she wanted to talk to Jacque and feared she’d fall asleep in the middle of the conversation if she took one. They definitely made her sleepy.

“Okay, let’s get into this,” he said with a bit of reluctance in his tone.

“The evening that I was attacked, Jackson Scott came into the store to buy something for his latest honey. Do you know him?”

“I’ve seen him around, but I don’t know him personally,” Jacque said. “There are very few people I know in town.”

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s not only the district attorney but he’s also a major sleazebag. He picks out a woman and love-bombs her for a couple of dates and then breaks up with her and moves on to his next victim.”

“Sounds like a real piece of work,” Jacque replied dryly.

“Yeah, anyway, for the first time ever, he asked what I was up to when I wasn’t working at the store. It was odd for him to ask me that.”

“Why would he want to kill your mother?”

“This is only a wild supposition on my part, but what I was thinking was maybe he was a client of my mother’s and somehow he got scared that she was going to tell his secrets. And I even speculated on what his secret might be.”

“What’s that?”

“Erectile dysfunction.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then threw back his head and began to laugh. It was a full-blown deep laugh she’d never heard from him before. It rumbled pleasantly in the air, and she loved the sound of it and the way his green eyes lit up with his mirth.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said as he sobered. “Of all the things I expected you to say, that wasn’t one of them.”

“But think about it,” she continued. “He has a real playboy reputation. Maybe he dates the women until it’s time for him to have sex with them, but because he can’t perform, he just breaks up with them.”