Something Borrowed, Something Bleu by Cricket McRae Page B

had himself under control.
I felt myself flush bright pink, but did my best to ignore it, hoping he would, too. “Now why on earth would Tabby Bines want to kill her husband?”
He hesitated, weighing what to say. “How well do you know the Bineses?”
“Not very. Tabby used to date my brother back in high school, and Joe was his best friend. But I haven’t seen him since my brother’s funeral.”
He considered the word funeral . “You used to live here?”
I nodded.
“What was your brother’s name?”
“Bobby Lee Watson.”
“I see.” Pity crossed his face. “That was a very sad business.” He made another note.
“You remember what happened?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was going to Northern Colorado University, finishing up my criminal justice degree. I recall—” He realized who he was talking to and clamped his mouth shut.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
As if of its own volition, my hand slipped into my tote bag and retrieved the envelope with the copy of Bobby Lee’s letter in it. I gave it to Schumaker. “This recently came into my family’s possession. It’s why I came back home, frankly, and I’m trying to find out what it means. Any help you could give me would be great.” Mixed feeling about getting the authorities involved crowded my thoughts. What if Bobby Lee had done something criminal? Anna Belle would have a fit if she found out.
He gave me one long look, then took the letter out and unfolded it. The inspector’s eyes narrowed as they moved down the page, then flicked back to the top as he began to read through it again.
Sheriff Jaikes rapped on the window with his knuckles. We both jumped, and Schumaker reached for the door handle.
“Can I have my letter back, please?”
He scanned it one last time before handing it to me. Opening the door, he got out. I did the same.
Jaikes spoke. “What’s taking so long? Pickel’s been done with the wife for ten minutes.”
Deputy Pickel. I just managed not to snort.
“Trying to be thorough, sir.”
Jaikes scowled. “Please get back into the car, ma’am. Schumaker, come with me.”
I was happy to slide back into the cool front seat, at least until the inspector removed the key, which turned off the air conditioner. He shrugged at my sound of protest. “Sorry, Ms. Reynolds. You understand.”
Bah.
The sheriff and his two deputies consulted, notebooks open. I peered at the bells and whistles tacked all along the dash, the computer within easy access of the driver. I wondered whether the inspector could type and drive at the same time. Probably. That couldn’t be safe. Maybe he played solitaire at stoplights.
The interior of the vehicle was an oven by the time they were done and Schumaker came over and opened my door. Apparently Tabby’s story matched mine, because they let her go back up to the house. She threw me an agitated look over her shoulder as she walked away. Sheriff Jaikes gestured me out to the parking lot.
“I take it we’re done?” I asked.
The sheriff frowned. “For now.”
“Do you have any idea who might have killed Joe? Did Tabby tell you anything useful?” I already knew I hadn’t.
But my question only earned me twin basilisk gazes.
“I mean, it sounds like he had a history. Enemies. And it was probably someone he knew, right? Because, being hit from that angle, on the side of his head like that, he probably would have been able to see his assailant. Unless they surprised him, and he turned toward them. Which way was he facing? Could you tell from the blood spatter …” Seeing the looks on their faces, I trailed off. They were lawmen, for heaven’s sake. What was with the horrified expressions?
“You appear to have a real taste for the macabre,” Sheriff Jaikes said. “Most ladies would be happy to remain ignorant of the more, uh, graphic details of a violent death.”
Not only implying that I should lay off the questions, but that I wasn’t a lady.
“Sorry,” I said.
“That’s okay.” A bit of condescension in his voice there. “You have yourself a real nice