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“You’re an assassin?” she asked with a snarky smile.
He glared at her. “FBI.”
“Oh. The horrible kidnapping,” she said. She nodded. “I knew her. Julie Crane. She was a sweet, kind person. She was standoffish if she didn’t know you, but people understood why she was like she was. I can’t imagine that anybody would hurt her. Of course, her stepfather has money, but they didn’t get along. He was crazy in love with his wife. When she got lung cancer and went in for treatment, he went with her. He even hired a nurse to do private duty with her when she got really bad.” She made a face. “Nobody liked the nurse. Julie certainly didn’t—she said the nurse took credit for what Julie did when she cared for her mother. May Strickland, that’s the nurse, wouldn’t even change the bed linen.”
“Well, aren’t you a buffet of news.”
“You look like you’d need to eat a buffet twice a day,” she returned, giving him a long look.
“I’m big-boned,” he said resentfully.
“Salads are very good for you. So is yoghurt.”
“I don’t need health advice from kids, thanks.”
She drew herself up to her full height. “I’m not a kid! I’m twenty-five.”
“You’re a kid. Drive carefully.”
She made a face at him. “I always drive carefully.”
He stood on the sidewalk and watched her back out. She went over the curb, almost hit his car, got into gear on the second try and putted down the street. The vehicle she was driving was pouring black smoke and it looked to be at least twenty years old. He shook his head. Talk about town characters, he told himself.
* * *
The next morning, he was sitting in Jeff Ralston’s office, drinking coffee and going over witness statements.
“There was a kid last night who mentioned some things about the victim,” he began.
“Who?”
“No idea. I was parked in her driveway next to the motel. Blonde, silver eyes, comes up to my shoulder. And twenty-five years old.”
“Oh, yes. Annalisa Davis,” Jeff replied with a warm smile. “She lost her dad last year.” He didn’t say how. That was Anna’s business. “Her mother died a couple of years before that. She insisted on staying in the house, although it’s falling apart around her ears. Proud as the devil. She won’t let anybody help her.”
Annalisa. It suited her somehow. “She’s got a mouth on her,” he remarked.
Jeff chuckled. “Just like her late mother. But she’s a sucker for lost pets, small animals, and little children.”
Something stirred deep inside him. He smothered it. The kid was years too young, and he didn’t even know her. Best not to get involved.
“About the victim—” he began.
“Julie Crane,” Jeff interrupted. “Her stepdad’s filthy rich; he inherited all the money Julie’s mother had, and it was a lot. He’s kept the nurse who took care of his late wife. Her name is May Strickland. She and Julie didn’t get along at all. I guess May wasn’t mourning the loss. She acts like she owns the place, the maid, Alice, told my cousin at the grocery store. She convinced Granger Downing that he needed constant monitoring of his blood pressure.”
Tom was taking notes on a phone app. “Did Julie get along with her stepfather?”
“Not really. She was autistic, but high-functioning. She could drive a car, cook, things like that, but she was hard to get along with if she didn’t know you. Her mother loved her and took care of her. When she got sick, Julie took care of her. Her mother died of lung cancer, and Julie was left with her mother’s husband and the nurse. She didn’t like either one of them.”
“Her stepfather, how did he feel about his stepdaughter?” he asked, looking up.
“He’s an abrasive man when you first meet him, but he’s got a soft heart. He liked Julie, but she made his life a misery,” Jeff explained.
“Well, that dots a few I’s,” Tom mused. “I’ll do a background check on him and the nurse.”
“There’s also a handyman, a friend of the nurse’s, named Billy Turner,” Jeff said. “Two more unpleasant people you’ll never meet.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Tom said imperturbably. “I’m used to unpleasant people.”
