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“Definitely not,” he said, then paused. “Sure, they happen occasionally in the county, but mostly up around Wolford. I can’t remember the last time we had a local murder.”
“Happen to know anything about it?”
“If Peterman’s daughter is missing, why are you asking so many questions?”
“The police station hasn’t announced that she is missing.”
His gaze held mine. “That’s a bullshit answer if I ever heard one.”
He had a point, but I wasn’t ready to tell him anything. He seemed to gather information from a lot of sources, and while I found that helpful, I wasn’t sure if he’d keep what I knew to himself.
“I can only tell you what Chief Larson told me.”
He studied me, obviously catching on that I knew more than I was letting on, but he didn’t push it. I liked that he seemed to know when to stop.
“Know anyone else who hates TJ?” I pressed.
“No…wait. Maybe.”
“Go on.”
“TJ took Betty Campbell’s seat on the council. He ran against her and won. She was the favored candidate during the campaign until rumors about her cheating on her husband started to circulate about two weeks before the election. To no one’s surprise, TJ won.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Betty had been on the council for sixteen years, and she was pretty bitter.”
“Was she having an affair?”
An indignant look crossed his face. “That’s irrelevant.”
“As to whether she was fit to run for city council? I agree. I’m trying to figure out whether the rumors that get floated are generally true or fabricated.”
“Did you try to make the Little Rock Police Department look bad by lying about the shooting?” he asked in a dry tone.
He had me there. “Touché.”
“Still,” he added. “Some rumors have been based on fact. Betty was having an affair with her next-door neighbor.”
“Do you think she’d be open to talking to me?” I asked.
“That depends,” he said, then added, “on whether you can communicate with dead people. Betty died right after Christmas. Bad case of the flu. Not a surprise given her age.”
“How old was she?”
“Eighty-seven.”
“And she was having an affair with her next-door neighbor?” I asked incredulously.
He laughed. “You think octogenarians don’t have sex? Yes, she and Walter had been sleeping together, but Betty’s husband died ten years ago, and Walter’s wife has been in a nursing home for the past five years after a stroke left her unable to communicate and move.” He held my gaze. “They were lonely. Who can judge?”
I held up my hand. “No judgment.” I gritted my teeth. “Okay, maybe I had some judgment before you shared the details. But you’re right. Loneliness will drive people to do things they ordinarily might not do.”
I knew firsthand.
“So is Ava Peterman really missing?” he asked again.
“Chief Larson hasn’t made an official statement,” I repeated as I held his gaze, hoping he interpreted what I was saying. “And we should probably let him keep this quiet for now.”
Realization lit up his eyes. “I see.”
“You seem to hear a lot of what goes on in this town,” I said. “If you hear something that might be helpful, would you give me a call? Anything at all.”
