jangly and tense, and you know something’s going on. You never had a feeling like that?”
Gilsum shrugged.
“You’ve got to pay attention to those feelings,” said Calhoun.
“So,” said Gilsum, “on the basis of this—this feeling—you took out your rifle, jacked a cartridge into the chamber, and sneaked up on your own house.”
“That’s right.”
“And what did you see?”
“Just Mr. Vecchio’s vehicle and him sitting there with bullet holes in him.”
“You saw nothing else. No other person or vehicle.”
“Nope. Just Mr. Vecchio and his vehicle.”
“Did you happen to pick up any spent cartridge cases?”
“I looked,” said Calhoun. “Didn’t see anything except Mr. Vecchio’s sunscreen, which I didn’t touch. I wouldn’t’ve picked up any cartridge cases.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
Calhoun narrowed his eyes at Gilsum. “You think I plugged Mr.Vecchio?”
“Why would you do that?”
Calhoun shook his head. “I wouldn’t. Didn’t.”
“Tell us about that argument you and he had.”
“Huh?” Calhoun frowned. “I didn’t have any argument with Mr. Vecchio. We got along pretty good.”
“At the dock the other morning,” said Gilsum. “You wouldn’t let him go on your boat out to Quarantine Island. He didn’t like that.”
“That was the sheriff, not me. He’s the one who said he couldn’t come with us.”
“That’s not exactly how we heard it, Mr. Calhoun.”
“You think he came here because we wouldn’t let him ride in the boat with us, and he made me so mad I shot him ?”
“That is a plausible scenario,” said Gilsum.
“No, it ain’t,” said Calhoun. “That’s plain stupid. Anyway, we didn’t have any argument. It wasn’t like that.”
Gilsum smiled quickly. “Did you go through his pockets?”
“Dr. Surry, she asked me that. I told her no.”
“Do you have any idea what he might’ve had in his pockets?”
Calhoun shrugged. “Wallet. Cell phone. Car keys. The usual stuff, I guess.”
“You know this how?”
“I don’t know it,” said Calhoun. “I know it’s what he had in his pockets the morning I took him fishing, that’s all.”
“How well did you know Paul Vecchio?” said Enfield, the DA. It was the first thing he’d said.
“I spent a couple hours with him in a boat,” said Calhoun. “That’s about it. He seemed like a nice guy.”
Enfield was stocky and strong-looking. He had a sharp nose and suspicious eyes. “Catch some fish, did you?” he said.
“It wasn’t bad.”
“Mr. Vecchio, was he a good angler?”
“He got better after a while.”
“You gave him some pointers, did you?”
“Only when he asked.”
“How did you happen to hook up with Mr. Vecchio?” said Enfield.
“He called the shop, talked to Kate, said he wanted to go fishing. It was my turn, so I took him.”
“He didn’t ask for you?”
“I don’t think so. But you should ask Kate. She’s the one who talked to him.”
Enfield nodded. “Did Mr. Vecchio mention anything about problems he might be having? Troubles with other people?”
Calhoun shook his head. “We just talked about fishing.”
“So,” said Enfield, “how did you happen to stop off at Quarantine Island that morning?”
“I already explained all that the other day. When we found that burned-up body out there.”
Enfield nodded. “Explain it again, please.”
Calhoun shrugged. “Mr. Vecchio had to take a leak, wanted to stretch his legs. We’d been into stripers pretty good. I guess he got kind of cramped up.”
“Yes,” said Enfield, “but why that particular island?”
“It was there, I guess.”
“There are several islands in that area.”
“Well,” said Calhoun, “you’re right. As I recall, Mr. Vecchio pointed to that one, Quarantine, and asked about it. I told him the stories, and he said that’s the one he wanted to stop off at. He was a writer. I suppose he was interested in things like that.”
Enfield nodded as if
Gilsum shrugged.
“You’ve got to pay attention to those feelings,” said Calhoun.
“So,” said Gilsum, “on the basis of this—this feeling—you took out your rifle, jacked a cartridge into the chamber, and sneaked up on your own house.”
“That’s right.”
“And what did you see?”
“Just Mr. Vecchio’s vehicle and him sitting there with bullet holes in him.”
“You saw nothing else. No other person or vehicle.”
“Nope. Just Mr. Vecchio and his vehicle.”
“Did you happen to pick up any spent cartridge cases?”
“I looked,” said Calhoun. “Didn’t see anything except Mr. Vecchio’s sunscreen, which I didn’t touch. I wouldn’t’ve picked up any cartridge cases.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
Calhoun narrowed his eyes at Gilsum. “You think I plugged Mr.Vecchio?”
“Why would you do that?”
Calhoun shook his head. “I wouldn’t. Didn’t.”
“Tell us about that argument you and he had.”
“Huh?” Calhoun frowned. “I didn’t have any argument with Mr. Vecchio. We got along pretty good.”
“At the dock the other morning,” said Gilsum. “You wouldn’t let him go on your boat out to Quarantine Island. He didn’t like that.”
“That was the sheriff, not me. He’s the one who said he couldn’t come with us.”
“That’s not exactly how we heard it, Mr. Calhoun.”
“You think he came here because we wouldn’t let him ride in the boat with us, and he made me so mad I shot him ?”
“That is a plausible scenario,” said Gilsum.
“No, it ain’t,” said Calhoun. “That’s plain stupid. Anyway, we didn’t have any argument. It wasn’t like that.”
Gilsum smiled quickly. “Did you go through his pockets?”
“Dr. Surry, she asked me that. I told her no.”
“Do you have any idea what he might’ve had in his pockets?”
Calhoun shrugged. “Wallet. Cell phone. Car keys. The usual stuff, I guess.”
“You know this how?”
“I don’t know it,” said Calhoun. “I know it’s what he had in his pockets the morning I took him fishing, that’s all.”
“How well did you know Paul Vecchio?” said Enfield, the DA. It was the first thing he’d said.
“I spent a couple hours with him in a boat,” said Calhoun. “That’s about it. He seemed like a nice guy.”
Enfield was stocky and strong-looking. He had a sharp nose and suspicious eyes. “Catch some fish, did you?” he said.
“It wasn’t bad.”
“Mr. Vecchio, was he a good angler?”
“He got better after a while.”
“You gave him some pointers, did you?”
“Only when he asked.”
“How did you happen to hook up with Mr. Vecchio?” said Enfield.
“He called the shop, talked to Kate, said he wanted to go fishing. It was my turn, so I took him.”
“He didn’t ask for you?”
“I don’t think so. But you should ask Kate. She’s the one who talked to him.”
Enfield nodded. “Did Mr. Vecchio mention anything about problems he might be having? Troubles with other people?”
Calhoun shook his head. “We just talked about fishing.”
“So,” said Enfield, “how did you happen to stop off at Quarantine Island that morning?”
“I already explained all that the other day. When we found that burned-up body out there.”
Enfield nodded. “Explain it again, please.”
Calhoun shrugged. “Mr. Vecchio had to take a leak, wanted to stretch his legs. We’d been into stripers pretty good. I guess he got kind of cramped up.”
“Yes,” said Enfield, “but why that particular island?”
“It was there, I guess.”
“There are several islands in that area.”
“Well,” said Calhoun, “you’re right. As I recall, Mr. Vecchio pointed to that one, Quarantine, and asked about it. I told him the stories, and he said that’s the one he wanted to stop off at. He was a writer. I suppose he was interested in things like that.”
Enfield nodded as if
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