advanced Alzheimer’s. We don’t know why they met that evening.” She waited for eye contact. “You do know they released my father. They found knife marks on his back. He acted in self-defense.”
Barbara Carter’s eyelids fluttered. Her upper body started to sway. Maggie thought they might have to scrape her off the floor. Instead, she shuddered as if shaking off a blast of extreme cold. They gave her a moment to regroup.
“I identified the knife. It was Brian’s.” She stared at Maggie now. “I hoped to make some sense of this. That’s why I came here.” Her face fell. “When I saw your brother outside—”
“Did your husband ever mention my father?”
“No. None of you. I confused the names. He never talked about the trial. I read what was in the newspapers.” She lay back in her chair. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Finally, they could agree on something. Maggie checked the clock. By the time she could get presentable, it would be too close to the dinner hour to start job-hunting.
Dad entered from the family room. Ginger moved toward him. He walked to the table and smiled at Barbara Carter. “Trisha, why didn’t you tell me we had guests?” He didn’t wait for a response before wandering out to the porch.
Barbara’s eyes followed Dad.
“He’s rarely lucid anymore. Trisha was Travis’ mom and my stepmother. She died two years ago.”
Barbara Carter turned to Travis, her mouth quivered when she saw the moisture of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She stood. “I should go.”
Maggie said, “Mrs. Carter—”
“Please call me Barbara.”
“Barbara—” Maggie put a hand on her shoulder. “Look. We’re stumbling too. If we can help you figure this out—”
Travis came to her side. “I’m sorry about your husband.”
“Thank you.” Her demeanor seemed sincere.
“May I ask you something? Did your husband ever mention the name Kingphisher?”
Maggie wanted to kick his shin but was afraid of hitting Barbara.
Barbara touched her mouth. “No. Who’s Kingphisher?”
Travis must have seen the heat rising from Maggie. He moved further behind Barbara.
“My father mentioned that name the day—the day it happened. I wondered if it had anything to do with your husband.”
What the hell was he up to now? Lying to Barbara. Maggie tried to make eye contact with Travis. Dad never mentioned the name Kingphisher. Maggie wasn’t even sure he’d remember it from the trial.
But the topic seemed to divert Barbara’s mind as she grappled with her loss. Finally, a loose fact to tug. A grip on a motive. A toehold on an answer. A pursuit that might let her forget for a moment that her beloved husband was dead.
Her auburn hair cascaded back when she lifted her head. “Kingphisher. I haven’t heard the name before. Do you think it might be important?”
“I do, ma’am.” His foot danced as he spoke.
She patted his arm. “Then I’ll let you know if I run across it.”
Chapter Seventeen
The stall warning indicator of the Mooney Acclaim intermittently blared. Vladimir eased back the yoke and kissed the numbers three-zero at San Carlos airport. The tires chirped on impact. He cut the power and braked hard but missed taxiway F. He made taxiway E and halted the aircraft before switching the radio to ground frequency.
He keyed the mike. “San Carlos Ground. This is Mooney seven, whisky, bravo. Request permission to taxi to hangar Juliet.”
“Roger. Mooney seven, whisky, bravo. Free to bypass. Cleared for taxi.”
“Cleared for taxi.” Vladimir released the brakes and idled across taxiway J, through the tie-down aisles, to his hangar on the right.
Anton and Yuri Suslova relaxed near the opening with a game of cards. Maybe gin rummy. They tossed their hands on the table when the Mooney came into view and swept the cards into a deck. They folded the table and chairs, laying them against an inside wall.
Vladimir turned left in front of the hangar, taxiing
Barbara Carter’s eyelids fluttered. Her upper body started to sway. Maggie thought they might have to scrape her off the floor. Instead, she shuddered as if shaking off a blast of extreme cold. They gave her a moment to regroup.
“I identified the knife. It was Brian’s.” She stared at Maggie now. “I hoped to make some sense of this. That’s why I came here.” Her face fell. “When I saw your brother outside—”
“Did your husband ever mention my father?”
“No. None of you. I confused the names. He never talked about the trial. I read what was in the newspapers.” She lay back in her chair. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Finally, they could agree on something. Maggie checked the clock. By the time she could get presentable, it would be too close to the dinner hour to start job-hunting.
Dad entered from the family room. Ginger moved toward him. He walked to the table and smiled at Barbara Carter. “Trisha, why didn’t you tell me we had guests?” He didn’t wait for a response before wandering out to the porch.
Barbara’s eyes followed Dad.
“He’s rarely lucid anymore. Trisha was Travis’ mom and my stepmother. She died two years ago.”
Barbara Carter turned to Travis, her mouth quivered when she saw the moisture of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She stood. “I should go.”
Maggie said, “Mrs. Carter—”
“Please call me Barbara.”
“Barbara—” Maggie put a hand on her shoulder. “Look. We’re stumbling too. If we can help you figure this out—”
Travis came to her side. “I’m sorry about your husband.”
“Thank you.” Her demeanor seemed sincere.
“May I ask you something? Did your husband ever mention the name Kingphisher?”
Maggie wanted to kick his shin but was afraid of hitting Barbara.
Barbara touched her mouth. “No. Who’s Kingphisher?”
Travis must have seen the heat rising from Maggie. He moved further behind Barbara.
“My father mentioned that name the day—the day it happened. I wondered if it had anything to do with your husband.”
What the hell was he up to now? Lying to Barbara. Maggie tried to make eye contact with Travis. Dad never mentioned the name Kingphisher. Maggie wasn’t even sure he’d remember it from the trial.
But the topic seemed to divert Barbara’s mind as she grappled with her loss. Finally, a loose fact to tug. A grip on a motive. A toehold on an answer. A pursuit that might let her forget for a moment that her beloved husband was dead.
Her auburn hair cascaded back when she lifted her head. “Kingphisher. I haven’t heard the name before. Do you think it might be important?”
“I do, ma’am.” His foot danced as he spoke.
She patted his arm. “Then I’ll let you know if I run across it.”
Chapter Seventeen
The stall warning indicator of the Mooney Acclaim intermittently blared. Vladimir eased back the yoke and kissed the numbers three-zero at San Carlos airport. The tires chirped on impact. He cut the power and braked hard but missed taxiway F. He made taxiway E and halted the aircraft before switching the radio to ground frequency.
He keyed the mike. “San Carlos Ground. This is Mooney seven, whisky, bravo. Request permission to taxi to hangar Juliet.”
“Roger. Mooney seven, whisky, bravo. Free to bypass. Cleared for taxi.”
“Cleared for taxi.” Vladimir released the brakes and idled across taxiway J, through the tie-down aisles, to his hangar on the right.
Anton and Yuri Suslova relaxed near the opening with a game of cards. Maybe gin rummy. They tossed their hands on the table when the Mooney came into view and swept the cards into a deck. They folded the table and chairs, laying them against an inside wall.
Vladimir turned left in front of the hangar, taxiing
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