Presumption of Guilt by Archer Mayor Page B

over a bunch for a while, and I was pretty sure he was after what you mean.”
    â€œHow did she react?”
    â€œShe didn’t hate it. I never heard her yell at him. And I thought I interrupted them kissing once. But right after, he stopped coming over, so I don’t know what happened.”
    There was another pause, after which Mitchell asked, almost shyly, “How did my dad die?”
    Willy didn’t think he had much to lose. “Somebody killed him.”
    Mitchell’s face went slack and his body sagged. “I thought it might’ve been an accident. He’d just hurt himself when I saw him last—had his arm in a sling.” He passed his hand across his forehead. “Who killed him? Why?”
    â€œThat’s what I’m looking for from you,” Willy told him.
    Mitchell was nonplussed. “Me? What would I know?”
    â€œYou hang out with your dad much? Drive around with him, seeing his pals?”
    â€œSure. I loved doing that.”
    â€œWho do you remember? You stopped with BB. Weren’t there others?”
    â€œOh, yeah. There was Johnny. He was always around.”
    â€œLucas?”
    â€œHe worked with Dad and BB. They had a company together. Roofing. You probably knew that.”
    â€œThat’s okay. Where was Johnny in the pecking order?”
    â€œDad and BB ran things—at least that’s what I thought. Johnny didn’t become a partner till later.”
    Willy was interested in that. “Would you say Johnny moved into your dad’s spot?”
    But Greg wouldn’t go that far. “Not really. What I remember is BB managed the company on his own for a year or so. Johnny worked for him, along with a bunch of others, but it wasn’t till later that he became management. I guess he deserved it. Not that I’d know much about it, but he’s high on the hog now, so he musta done something right.”
    â€œRich?”
    â€œNot BB’s kind of rich. That’s crazy. But Johnny did fine.”
    â€œHow did your dad and Johnny get along?”
    â€œFine. They were buddies.”
    â€œWere there others?”
    Greg gazed into the distance, trying to recall. “Jimmy Stringer was one of them, and a guy named Carlo. Don’t know his last name.”
    â€œAnyone else?” Willy pressed him.
    â€œThat’s pretty much all I know. Dad was a popular guy, but names…?”
    â€œTell me about Stringer. He keeps coming up.”
    Greg smiled slightly. “It’s probably that last name—sounds like a kid’s book. I don’t know. My dad liked him well enough, but he never paid much attention to me—not like BB. He seemed kind of rough. I think my spider sense told me he could be mean.”
    â€œYou ever witness that side of him?”
    â€œNope. It was just a feeling. You know what they’re worth.”
    â€œA lot, sometimes,” Willy told him. This brought him around to one of the primary reasons he’d come here.
    â€œGreg, let’s go back to when your parents were having their problems. I understand you felt guilty—that you were to blame somehow, even though you weren’t. I get that. But you told me how big a presence Hank was in your life. How he filled the room, so to speak. That’s a big hole to leave behind. How did you feel when he moved out?”
    Mitchell’s eyes wandered to the view beyond the deck. “It’s hard to separate how I felt then to later. I guess numb. And lost. I was pretty confused.”
    â€œHow’d you feel about the old man’s vanishing act?”
    â€œHurt. Angry. And—again—confused. Julie’s reaction didn’t help. She wigged out—smashing stuff and throwing fits. She started hitting people, too.”
    â€œWhat was her relationship like with your father?”
    â€œCool,” Greg replied. “Like mine. He was a good dad—read to us, played ball, went on