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Chapter17
“HOLD ON,where’s the FBI gal? I liked her.”
Agatha Bates was staring up at Decker through the lenses of her thick glasses.
Mary Lancaster, who stood next to Decker in Bates’s small living room, said, “She’s on another assignment out of state. I’m working with Agent Decker now.”
Bates nodded. “Well, so long as you got somebody to keep an eye onhim. He’s a strange one,” she added, as though Decker couldn’t hear her. “I think he’s just too big for his own good, if you know what I mean.”
Lancaster said to him, “I had gone over to Richards’s house to question her again. The car was gone and there was no answer. Mrs. Bates was out in her yard, called me over, and told me what she saw last night.”
Decker glanced out the window across the street at Susan Richards’s house. “What can you tell us?” he said.
“What I told this lady. It was around nine-thirty last night. I heard that dang car start up.”
“You mean Richards’s car with the loud muffler?” said Decker.
She frowned up at him. “I thought I just said that.”
“Tell him what happened next,” said Lancaster quickly.
Bates slowly drew her gaze from Decker and said, “Saw Susan get out of the car while it was running and head into the house. She came out a few minutes later with a big old suitcase. One of them rolling ones. She leaned down and opened the car trunk and heaved it in. Then she slammed the trunk shut and got in the car.”
“What was she wearing?” asked Decker.
“Long trench coat and a hat, all I could see.”
“And you’re sure it was her?” said Decker.
“’Course I am. I know Susan. Tall, thin, blonde hair and all.”
Lancaster nodded. “And then she drove away?”
“That’s right. She didn’t tell me about taking a trip. But she must be going away for a while. That bag was stuffed.”
Lancaster looked over at Decker, who was once more staring out the window. She said, “Richards must have left in a hurry. She didn’t stop the newspaper or mail deliveries. I checked.”
“So is she on the lam, then?” asked Bates. “What we used to call it when people go on the run. You know, likeThe Fugitive. I loved that show. Don’t make ’em like that anymore.” Her small face crinkled with pleasure. “And I had the biggest crush on David Janssen. What a hottie he was. He’s dead now. Everybody I liked on TV is dead now.”
“We’re not sure of her reasons for leaving,” said Lancaster.
“Well, if Susan killed that man, she probably would try to get away,” said Bates. “I know I would.”
Decker said, “Did you see anyone else over there last night?”
Bates’s gaze swiveled back to him. “No. Woulda told you if I had.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary?” he persisted.
Bates thought about this. “Not unless you count somebody going on the lam.”
Decker and Lancaster left and walked across the street to Richards’s home. A forensic team was inside looking around.
Decker looked to the sky where a storm was coming in.
Lancaster followed his gaze. “Weird weather this time of year. It was warm and humid and not a cloud in the sky last night. Now we’re going to get a storm and the temp will drop twenty-five degrees.”
Decker nodded absently. “You put out a BOLO, right?” hesaid.
