her feet were in the blood!"
Irritably, Booley wondered why that was supposed to have any significance. He reached for patience.
"From what we can tell, Jessie had already been dead for several hours before Roanna found her." He didn't go into the technical details about the progression rate of rigor mortis, figuring Lucinda didn't need to hear it. It wasn't possible to pin down the exact time of a death unless it was witnessed, but it was still a sure thing that Jessie had died at least a couple of hours before midnight. He didn't know why Roanna had paid her cousin a visit at two in the morning-and he'd definitely find out-but Jessie had already been dead.
The little family group was frozen, staring at him-as if they couldn't comprehend this latest twist. He took out his little notebook. One of the county detectives normally would have done the interviewing, but this was the Davenport family, and he was going to give the case his personal attention.
"Mr. Ames said that Webb and Jessie had a lulu of a fight tonight," he began, and saw the sharp look that Lucinda gave her brother-in-law.
Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she mopped a, her face with the mangled handkerchief.
"They argued, yes."
"What about?"
Lucinda hesitated, and Gloria stepped into the breach.
"Jessie caught Webb and Roanna carrying on in the kitchen."
Booley's gray eyebrows rose. Not much surprised him anymore, but he felt mildly astonished at this. Dubiously, he glanced at the frail, huddled little form across the room. Roanna seemed, if not childish, still oddly childlike, and he wouldn't have figured Webb for being a man who was turned on by that.
"Carrying on, how?"
"Carrying on, that's how," Gloria said, her voice rising.
"My God, Booley, do you want me to draw you a picture?" The idea of Webb having sex with Roanna in the kitchen struck him as even more unlikely. He was never surprised at the depth of stupidity supposedly smart people could exhibit, but this didn't ring true. Odd, that he could see Webb Shades ol'Twilight committing murder, but not fooling around with his little cousin.
Well, he'd get the true story about the kitchen episode from Roanna. He wanted something else from these three.
"So they were arguing. Did the argument turn violent?"
"Sure did," Harlan replied, only too eager to take the spotlight again.
"They were upstairs, but Jessie was screaming so loud we could hear every word. Then Webb yelled at her to get a divorce, that he'd do anything to get rid of her, and there was the sound of glass breaking. Then Webb came storming downstairs and left."
"Did any of you see Jessie after that, or maybe hear her in the bathroom?"
"Nope, not a sound," Harlan said, and Gloria shook her head. No one had tried to talk to Jessie, knowing from experience that it was better to let her cool down first or her fury would erupt on the erstwhile mediator. Lucinda's expression was one of growing disbelief and horror as she realized where Booley's questioning was headed.
"No," she said violently, shaking her head in denial.
"Booley, no! You can't suspect Webb!"
"I have to," he replied, trying to keep his voice gentle.
"They were arguing, violently. Now, we all know Webb has quite a temper when he's stirred up. No one saw or heard a peep out of Jessie after he left. It's a sad fact, but any time a woman's killed, it's usually her husband or a boyfriend who does it. This hurts me bad, Lucinda, but the truth is Webb is the most likely suspect."
She was still shaking her head, and tears were dribbling down her wrinkled cheeks again.
"He couldn't. Not Webb." Her voice was pleading.
"I hope not, but I have to check it out. Now, what time was it when Webb left, as near as you can remember?" Lucinda was silent. Harlan and Gloria looked at each other.
"Eight?" Gloria finally offered, uncertainty in her voice.
"About that," Harlan said, nodding.
"That movie I wanted to watch just had come on."
Eight o'clock.
Irritably, Booley wondered why that was supposed to have any significance. He reached for patience.
"From what we can tell, Jessie had already been dead for several hours before Roanna found her." He didn't go into the technical details about the progression rate of rigor mortis, figuring Lucinda didn't need to hear it. It wasn't possible to pin down the exact time of a death unless it was witnessed, but it was still a sure thing that Jessie had died at least a couple of hours before midnight. He didn't know why Roanna had paid her cousin a visit at two in the morning-and he'd definitely find out-but Jessie had already been dead.
The little family group was frozen, staring at him-as if they couldn't comprehend this latest twist. He took out his little notebook. One of the county detectives normally would have done the interviewing, but this was the Davenport family, and he was going to give the case his personal attention.
"Mr. Ames said that Webb and Jessie had a lulu of a fight tonight," he began, and saw the sharp look that Lucinda gave her brother-in-law.
Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she mopped a, her face with the mangled handkerchief.
"They argued, yes."
"What about?"
Lucinda hesitated, and Gloria stepped into the breach.
"Jessie caught Webb and Roanna carrying on in the kitchen."
Booley's gray eyebrows rose. Not much surprised him anymore, but he felt mildly astonished at this. Dubiously, he glanced at the frail, huddled little form across the room. Roanna seemed, if not childish, still oddly childlike, and he wouldn't have figured Webb for being a man who was turned on by that.
"Carrying on, how?"
"Carrying on, that's how," Gloria said, her voice rising.
"My God, Booley, do you want me to draw you a picture?" The idea of Webb having sex with Roanna in the kitchen struck him as even more unlikely. He was never surprised at the depth of stupidity supposedly smart people could exhibit, but this didn't ring true. Odd, that he could see Webb Shades ol'Twilight committing murder, but not fooling around with his little cousin.
Well, he'd get the true story about the kitchen episode from Roanna. He wanted something else from these three.
"So they were arguing. Did the argument turn violent?"
"Sure did," Harlan replied, only too eager to take the spotlight again.
"They were upstairs, but Jessie was screaming so loud we could hear every word. Then Webb yelled at her to get a divorce, that he'd do anything to get rid of her, and there was the sound of glass breaking. Then Webb came storming downstairs and left."
"Did any of you see Jessie after that, or maybe hear her in the bathroom?"
"Nope, not a sound," Harlan said, and Gloria shook her head. No one had tried to talk to Jessie, knowing from experience that it was better to let her cool down first or her fury would erupt on the erstwhile mediator. Lucinda's expression was one of growing disbelief and horror as she realized where Booley's questioning was headed.
"No," she said violently, shaking her head in denial.
"Booley, no! You can't suspect Webb!"
"I have to," he replied, trying to keep his voice gentle.
"They were arguing, violently. Now, we all know Webb has quite a temper when he's stirred up. No one saw or heard a peep out of Jessie after he left. It's a sad fact, but any time a woman's killed, it's usually her husband or a boyfriend who does it. This hurts me bad, Lucinda, but the truth is Webb is the most likely suspect."
She was still shaking her head, and tears were dribbling down her wrinkled cheeks again.
"He couldn't. Not Webb." Her voice was pleading.
"I hope not, but I have to check it out. Now, what time was it when Webb left, as near as you can remember?" Lucinda was silent. Harlan and Gloria looked at each other.
"Eight?" Gloria finally offered, uncertainty in her voice.
"About that," Harlan said, nodding.
"That movie I wanted to watch just had come on."
Eight o'clock.
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