course you don’t,” I agreed after taking a puff on the cigarette. It’d been so long since I’d smoked that I felt slightly light-headed. “Do you have even the faintest idea of who might be doing this?”
Milo glowered at me. “If I did, don’t you think I’d do something about it?”
“Okay, okay. It was a dumb question.” I hesitated, unwilling to bring up what could elicit an even more explosive response from the sheriff. “The reason I ask is that there was some confusion over the arrest of Clive Berentsen in the De Muth homicide last month.” I saw Milo start to protest, but I kept on talking. “I know he confessed, I know there were witnesses, I know the whole sad story as well as you do, but the fact that Clive didn’t do it and had to be released later might have put an idea into somebody’s addled brain. The first letter mentioned you’d made a mistake recently. The allusion could’ve been to the Berentsen situation.” I shrugged. “You know crazy people get hold of even crazier notions and take off like rockets.”
“Yeah, I know all that crap.” Milo stubbed out his cigarette and took a swig of coffee from his NRA mug. “What if it’s not a nut?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He rubbed at his graying sandy hair. “I mean somebody with a serious grudge. It happens. It’s part of the job description. But I can’t think of anyone connected to the Petersen case who’d dosomething like this. The worst part about Linda’s murder was that it involved one of the rock-solid Alpine families. Except for Larry feeling he wasn’t worthy of running the bank and becoming head of the family when Marvin retired or died, nobody else was weird.”
My mind’s eye flashed back to Denise and the dog. But that wasn’t weird, it was just poor judgment. As for being a bit dim, that was hardly a crime, or half of Alpine would be under suspicion. “I can’t argue that point. By the way, Denise is taking Ginny’s place for the month of December.”
Milo leaned back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. “Good luck. You must be desperate.”
“I am.” Since the sheriff seemed to have calmed down a bit, I broached the subject of Craig Laurentis.
“I stopped at the clinic and talked to Doc Dewey on my way to work,” Milo replied. “He said Laurentis is listed in satisfactory condition, but to hold off until later this morning to question him. The guy’s still kind of loopy from all the drugs.”
“That’s good news,” I said.
“Yeah. We could use some.” He lit another cigarette. “Where were you last night? Didn’t you get my message?”
“I got it too late,” I replied. “I stopped to see Craig’s new painting at Donna’s gallery. It’s kind of strange.”
“Oh?” Milo’s interest seemed forced. “How so?”
“Just a different style. Sort of gloomy. Donna seemed to like it.”
“She has to if she wants to sell it.” He gestured at his mug. “You want coffee?”
“No thanks. I haven’t even had a chance to get any at the office. You summoned me peremptorily.”
“So I did.” He glanced at the letter. “You think I’m overreacting.”
“Not exactly,” I hedged. “It’s unsettling, but I doubt the writer is dangerous.”
Milo regarded me with a wry expression. “Oh? Want to put that in writing?”
“Actually, that’s my point. I get letters all the time telling me I’m the worst person in the world, I should be run out of town, I ought to be taken out and shot. Ninety-nine percent of them are unsigned or use phony names, so it’s against my policy to print them in the paper. Almost half of them are repeat writers, the same goofballs who are always upset about something, which may or may not have to do with what’s in the
Advocate
. They’re letting off steam. It’s a harmless safety valve. Your letters could be in the same category.”
Milo thought for a minute. “Okay, I understand what you’re saying. But what bothers me is that these
Milo glowered at me. “If I did, don’t you think I’d do something about it?”
“Okay, okay. It was a dumb question.” I hesitated, unwilling to bring up what could elicit an even more explosive response from the sheriff. “The reason I ask is that there was some confusion over the arrest of Clive Berentsen in the De Muth homicide last month.” I saw Milo start to protest, but I kept on talking. “I know he confessed, I know there were witnesses, I know the whole sad story as well as you do, but the fact that Clive didn’t do it and had to be released later might have put an idea into somebody’s addled brain. The first letter mentioned you’d made a mistake recently. The allusion could’ve been to the Berentsen situation.” I shrugged. “You know crazy people get hold of even crazier notions and take off like rockets.”
“Yeah, I know all that crap.” Milo stubbed out his cigarette and took a swig of coffee from his NRA mug. “What if it’s not a nut?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He rubbed at his graying sandy hair. “I mean somebody with a serious grudge. It happens. It’s part of the job description. But I can’t think of anyone connected to the Petersen case who’d dosomething like this. The worst part about Linda’s murder was that it involved one of the rock-solid Alpine families. Except for Larry feeling he wasn’t worthy of running the bank and becoming head of the family when Marvin retired or died, nobody else was weird.”
My mind’s eye flashed back to Denise and the dog. But that wasn’t weird, it was just poor judgment. As for being a bit dim, that was hardly a crime, or half of Alpine would be under suspicion. “I can’t argue that point. By the way, Denise is taking Ginny’s place for the month of December.”
Milo leaned back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. “Good luck. You must be desperate.”
“I am.” Since the sheriff seemed to have calmed down a bit, I broached the subject of Craig Laurentis.
“I stopped at the clinic and talked to Doc Dewey on my way to work,” Milo replied. “He said Laurentis is listed in satisfactory condition, but to hold off until later this morning to question him. The guy’s still kind of loopy from all the drugs.”
“That’s good news,” I said.
“Yeah. We could use some.” He lit another cigarette. “Where were you last night? Didn’t you get my message?”
“I got it too late,” I replied. “I stopped to see Craig’s new painting at Donna’s gallery. It’s kind of strange.”
“Oh?” Milo’s interest seemed forced. “How so?”
“Just a different style. Sort of gloomy. Donna seemed to like it.”
“She has to if she wants to sell it.” He gestured at his mug. “You want coffee?”
“No thanks. I haven’t even had a chance to get any at the office. You summoned me peremptorily.”
“So I did.” He glanced at the letter. “You think I’m overreacting.”
“Not exactly,” I hedged. “It’s unsettling, but I doubt the writer is dangerous.”
Milo regarded me with a wry expression. “Oh? Want to put that in writing?”
“Actually, that’s my point. I get letters all the time telling me I’m the worst person in the world, I should be run out of town, I ought to be taken out and shot. Ninety-nine percent of them are unsigned or use phony names, so it’s against my policy to print them in the paper. Almost half of them are repeat writers, the same goofballs who are always upset about something, which may or may not have to do with what’s in the
Advocate
. They’re letting off steam. It’s a harmless safety valve. Your letters could be in the same category.”
Milo thought for a minute. “Okay, I understand what you’re saying. But what bothers me is that these
Similar Books
