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“Yeah. Don’t ask me which women because I don’t know them. I just know he picks them up at some local bar. I sometimes see them leaving when I come out for the morning milking.”
Josie made a mental note to visit the local bars and ask around about Vance Hadlee. “Deputy Grey said that no one has seen your brother with a woman since Anya left.”
Lark laughed. “Cy loves to think he’s got his finger on the pulse of everything that goes on in this town, but he doesn’t. He’s got no idea what goes on. He’s hardly left the house in the last four or five years, other than for work.”
“Why’s that?” asked Gretchen.
“His daughter, Piper. She got shot in the head by her husband, years ago, and she’s been a shell of a person ever since. The bullet didn’t leave her with much. Cy’s been taking care of her.”
“She passed away recently,” Josie said. “You told Cy you were sorry to have missed her service.”
Lark nodded. “Yeah, it was real sad. Folks in town said her body finally gave out.”
If what Lark said was true and Piper’s husband had shot her, he could be charged with murder even if she died years later, as long as her death was related to the injuries sustained in the shooting.
“What happened to Piper’s husband?” asked Josie.
“Went to prison for a while.” She leaned back and craned her head from side to side as if checking to see if anyone was outside. Looking back at Josie and Gretchen, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Licking her lips, she said, “He, uh, got out last year. It was, uh, after Dad’s stroke. Anyway, he didn’t come back to Bly, which is probably good. He wasn’t liked much even before that.”
“What’s his name?” asked Gretchen.
“Mathias Tobin,” Lark answered.
“Why didn’t people like him before?” asked Josie.
They were far off-topic now, but Lark seemed like she wanted to talk, to get some things off her chest. They’d already learned more about Vance and his daily routine as well as his shaky alibi than they’d gotten when they first showed up. Josie couldn’t imagine what it was like for Lark, living with Vance and Dermot all the time. Based on the photos in Vance’s secret compartment, Lark was a couple of years older than him, which meant she was approaching her mid-forties, and yet she was single with no family of her own, still living on this farm. Surely she had friends and got away from the farm now and then, but day-to-day life must have felt isolating. It wasn’t the worst thing to keep her engaged in conversation, even if it was about Cyrus’s son-in-law.
Lark said, “Everyone here thinks he killed some girl ages ago. Police said it was an accident so he was never charged or questioned or anything, but once the rumors start, you can’t stop them.”
“Jana Melburn?” asked Josie.
Lark’s brows shot up in surprise. “How do you know about it?”
Skirting the question, Josie smiled. “Seems like you can’t talk to anyone around here without her name coming up.”
Lark nodded. “Small town, small county. People got real hung up on that case. She was a receptionist at one of the local doctor’s offices. We’ve only got two around here, so pretty much half the area knew her. I’d met her, since that was the office we’ve always used. Everyone agreed she was real sweet, and they were right. Pretty, well-liked young girl turns up dead? People couldn’t stop talking. It was the mystery, I think. Was she killed or was it an accident? Gave folks something to talk about. Everyone had an opinion or a theory. I don’t think anyone ever cared about Jana Melburn. Her death was just entertainment.”
Before Josie could ask more questions, a cell phone rang. All three of them checked their pockets, but it was Lark who took out her phone and swiped answer. From her end of the conversation, it sounded as though Vance had grown tired of waiting for Josie, Gretchen and Mettner to finish their search. After a brief conversation, Lark hung up. Stationing herself at the garage entrance, she said, “Keep going, and take your time.”
Josie and Gretchen finished searching every last nook of the garage. There were forty-two brands in all but none matching the kind that had been used on Sharon Eddy. Silently, Lark led them to another garage which they checked. Nothing was found. They met up with Mettner after that and the three of them searched the rest of the farm. Hours later, they were exhausted, hungry, stinking of cow dung, and empty-handed.
As they walked back to the house, Mettner drew up beside Josie and tapped her elbow. She took one look at his face and knew he wanted to discuss something but not in front of Lark. Josie coughed, drawing Gretchen’s attention. They’d worked together for so long that it only took a waggle of her eyebrows and a brief nod in Mettner’s direction for Josie to communicate that she and Mettner needed a moment alone. Gretchen focused her attention on Lark and began to ask questions about the farm. Josie and Mettner slowed until they were several paces behind Gretchen and Lark.
“What is it?” Josie said.
“There are guns all over this property,” Mettner said. “Shotguns, rifles, even two handguns—one in Dermot Hadlee’s bedroom and another out in one of the barns.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said. “Dermot Hadlee pointed a shotgun at us when we got here.”
Mettner shook his head. “My point is they’re all unsecured, and Vance Hadlee is not supposed to have access to firearms. Not after what he did to Dr. Feist.”
“You’re right,” Josie agreed. “But you know for a fact that he, his father, and even his sister are just going to say that none of those guns belong to him.”
Mettner made a noise of exasperation. “What are you saying? We shouldn’t do anything?”
“I’m not saying that at all,” Josie said. “We should absolutely do something. I’m just saying that it probably won’t go anywhere.”
As they rounded the front of the house, Josie noticed Vance leaning against the porch railing, a grin from ear to ear. Cyrus stood beside his cruiser, watching as they tromped over. “You three look whipped. Get what you came for?”
