disappeared?â
The two exchanged a look. Peter cleared his throat again. âWe heard about that later.â
âWe heard about it at the time. There was a frightful quarrel upstairs in the master bedroom. Of course, we didnât know the subject, but thatâs certainly what it was.â
âWhatâs your theory about who might have taken it?â
âWell,
he
did, of course,â Yolanda said without the slightest hesitation.
Â
Â
7
Â
Â
I stopped by the office briefly and typed up my notes. The light on my answering machine was blinking merrily. I punched the Replay button and listened to the message. It was Isabelleâs friend Rhe Parsons, sounding harried and dutiful, the kind of person who returns a phone call just to get it over with. I tried her number, letting the phone ring while I leafed through one of the files sitting on my desk. Where was I going to find a witness who could put David Barney at the murder scene? Lonnieâs suggestion was facetious, but what a coup that would be. Four rings . . . five. I was just about to hang up when someone answered abruptly on the other end. âYes?â
âOh, hi. This is Kinsey Millhone. May I speak to Rhe Parsons?â
âYouâre doing it. Whoâs this?â
âKinsey Millhone. I left a messageââ
âOh, right, right,â she cut in. âAbout Isabelle. I donât understand what you want.â
âLook, I know you talked to Morley Shine a couple of months ago.â
âWho?â
âThe investigator who was handling this. Unfortunately, he had a heart atââ
âI never talked to anyone about Isabelle.â
âYou didnât talk to Morley? He was working for an attorney in the lawsuit filed by Kenneth Voigt.â
âI donât know about any of this stuff.â
âSorry. Maybe I was misinformed. Why donât I tell you whatâs going on,â I said. I went through a brief explanation of the lawsuit and the job Iâd been hired to do. âI promise I wonât take any more of your time than I have to, but I would like to have a quick chat.â
âIâm swamped. You couldnât have called at a worse time,â she said. âIâm a sculptor with a show coming up in two days. Every minute Iâve got is devoted to that.â
âWhat about coffee or a glass of wine later this afternoon? It doesnât have to be nine to five. I can come at your convenience.â
âBut it has to be today, right? Canât it wait a week?â
âWe have a court date coming up.â Weâre all busy, I thought.
âLook, I donât mean to sound bitchy, but sheâs been gone for six years. Whatever happens to David Barney, it wonât bring her back to life. So whatâs the point, you know?â
I said, âThereâs no point to anything if you get right down to it. We could all blow our brains out, but we donât. Sure, sheâs gone, but her death doesnât have to be senseless.â
There was a silence. I knew she didnât want to do it and I hated to press, but this was serious.
She shifted her position, still annoyed, but willing to bend a bit. âJesus. I teach drawing at Adult Ed from seven to ten oâclock tonight. If you stop by, we can talk while the students work. Thatâs the best I can do.â
âGreat. Thatâs perfect. I appreciate your help.â
She gave me directions. âRoom ten, at the back.â
âIâll see you there.â
Â
I arrived home at 5:35 and saw that Henryâs kitchen light was on. I walked from my back door to his, peering in through the screen. He was sitting in his rocker with his daily glass of Jack Danielâs, reading the paper while his supper cooked. Through the screen, I was assailed by the heady scent of frying onions and sausage. Henry set his paper aside. âCome on in.â
I
David Gemmell
Al Lacy
Mary Jane Clark
Jason Nahrung
Kari Jones
R. T. Jordan
Grace Burrowes
A.M. Hargrove, Terri E. Laine
Donn Cortez
Andy Briggs