settlement out of the deal.” Grinning, Carl added, “Don't forget, the key to the whole case is the fact the Witt sisters deprived Judge Kimmer of the property he wanted."
"I still say that's a conflict of interest."
"I already told you they never listed the property and Kimmer never officially talked to a realtor. Nothing was ever put in writing."
"Their word against his?"
Carl nodded. “Something like that."
The vision of changing the resort's name back to its original name brought a smile to Carl. Swanson's Resort had a nice flair. His smile was short-lived when he pictured the Witt sisters’ mother wrapping his grandfather around her little finger with sexual favors. His poor, pitiful grandfather. No one would ever know what guiles the whore had used to seduce him. Carl spent a lot of time imagining what his grandfather had endured.
Carl scanned Paul's profile as his friend stared vacantly out the window and drummed his thumb against the desk. Carl had learned to tolerate Paul's mood swings and knew when to keep his mouth shut. Paul's business partner had been buried earlier in the day. Paul had served as one of the pallbearers.
The funeral for all three members of the Fossum family was the largest funeral in Pinecone Landing in over a decade and was held in the high school gymnasium to accommodate the massive crowd. The school's parking lot filled to capacity. Carl and several deputies had directed traffic to an outer lot behind the school's property to handle the overflow.
Paul's secretary rapped lightly on the door and reminded him she was leaving early for an appointment. “You sure you're going to be okay?” she inquired, poking her head through the opening.
"I'm fine. Thanks for covering for me this morning.” As she lingered in the doorway, Paul shooed her away with a flick of his fingers.
"I put a couple messages in your mail slot. One's from an out-of-state client who hadn't heard about Richard's death.” Her voice trailing off down the hall, she added, “See you in the morning.” A click of the latch signaled she had left the building.
Staring into his lap, Paul sighed. “That was really gruesome."
"The funeral?"
An annoyed glare darkened Paul's expression. “What else would I be talking about?"
"The accident?"
Spreading his hands as if to explain what should have been apparent, Paul said, “I wasn't there. How could I talk about the accident?"
"Well I was there. And believe me, it was gruesome. I'll never forget it. I've seen some pretty bad wrecks, but this was by far the worst.” Carl removed his cap and rested his head against the back of the sofa. “Dispatch got the call from a guy who came upon the accident. Angie couldn't locate anyone to take the call, so I took it."
Paul swiveled his chair and stared out the window.
"The first thing I saw was Richard impaled on that fence post. It had gone clean through his gut. Then I saw his wife. Her head went through the windshield and I'm guessing she died on impact."
Carl could see Paul's head over the back of the leather chair rotating back and forth. He waited for Paul to comment. Getting no reaction, Carl said, “When I opened the back door, I found their kid leaning against the seat with his eyes open. It looked like he was looking at his dad. There wasn't a scratch on him. I took his earphones out of his ears and tried to get him to talk before I realized he was dead."
Paul swiveled back toward Carl. “What did you find at the scene?"
"I'm guessing he swerved to avoid a deer. You know how many deer wander in and out of that area.” Carl breathed deeply trying to erase the memories. “The sheriff agreed. He didn't see any reason to investigate further."
Carl raised his eyes to meet Paul's gaze. “Has Lon talked to you?"
"About what?"
"About the fact that it might not be an accident."
"No. But I thought you told him to drop that idea.” Agitation tinged Paul's voice.
"I did. I just wondered if you heard any more
"I still say that's a conflict of interest."
"I already told you they never listed the property and Kimmer never officially talked to a realtor. Nothing was ever put in writing."
"Their word against his?"
Carl nodded. “Something like that."
The vision of changing the resort's name back to its original name brought a smile to Carl. Swanson's Resort had a nice flair. His smile was short-lived when he pictured the Witt sisters’ mother wrapping his grandfather around her little finger with sexual favors. His poor, pitiful grandfather. No one would ever know what guiles the whore had used to seduce him. Carl spent a lot of time imagining what his grandfather had endured.
Carl scanned Paul's profile as his friend stared vacantly out the window and drummed his thumb against the desk. Carl had learned to tolerate Paul's mood swings and knew when to keep his mouth shut. Paul's business partner had been buried earlier in the day. Paul had served as one of the pallbearers.
The funeral for all three members of the Fossum family was the largest funeral in Pinecone Landing in over a decade and was held in the high school gymnasium to accommodate the massive crowd. The school's parking lot filled to capacity. Carl and several deputies had directed traffic to an outer lot behind the school's property to handle the overflow.
Paul's secretary rapped lightly on the door and reminded him she was leaving early for an appointment. “You sure you're going to be okay?” she inquired, poking her head through the opening.
"I'm fine. Thanks for covering for me this morning.” As she lingered in the doorway, Paul shooed her away with a flick of his fingers.
"I put a couple messages in your mail slot. One's from an out-of-state client who hadn't heard about Richard's death.” Her voice trailing off down the hall, she added, “See you in the morning.” A click of the latch signaled she had left the building.
Staring into his lap, Paul sighed. “That was really gruesome."
"The funeral?"
An annoyed glare darkened Paul's expression. “What else would I be talking about?"
"The accident?"
Spreading his hands as if to explain what should have been apparent, Paul said, “I wasn't there. How could I talk about the accident?"
"Well I was there. And believe me, it was gruesome. I'll never forget it. I've seen some pretty bad wrecks, but this was by far the worst.” Carl removed his cap and rested his head against the back of the sofa. “Dispatch got the call from a guy who came upon the accident. Angie couldn't locate anyone to take the call, so I took it."
Paul swiveled his chair and stared out the window.
"The first thing I saw was Richard impaled on that fence post. It had gone clean through his gut. Then I saw his wife. Her head went through the windshield and I'm guessing she died on impact."
Carl could see Paul's head over the back of the leather chair rotating back and forth. He waited for Paul to comment. Getting no reaction, Carl said, “When I opened the back door, I found their kid leaning against the seat with his eyes open. It looked like he was looking at his dad. There wasn't a scratch on him. I took his earphones out of his ears and tried to get him to talk before I realized he was dead."
Paul swiveled back toward Carl. “What did you find at the scene?"
"I'm guessing he swerved to avoid a deer. You know how many deer wander in and out of that area.” Carl breathed deeply trying to erase the memories. “The sheriff agreed. He didn't see any reason to investigate further."
Carl raised his eyes to meet Paul's gaze. “Has Lon talked to you?"
"About what?"
"About the fact that it might not be an accident."
"No. But I thought you told him to drop that idea.” Agitation tinged Paul's voice.
"I did. I just wondered if you heard any more
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