The Kill by Jan Neuharth

not the shooter. We’re following up on all leads.”
    “Have any of the workers confirmed whether Richard talked to Reyes?” Margaret asked.
    “One of the workers we interviewed saw Reyes, as he put it, ‘shooting the breeze with some dude in an SUV,’” Mallory said.
    “Richard.”
    “Quite possibly. Although the witness can’t remember anything about the description of the SUV or the driver. He did remember the description of another vehicle, however, which is why we’re here.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes, ma’am. He remembered seeing a dark-green sports car drive through the area late afternoon Monday, just before they knocked off work. A BMW M Coupe. Apparently, he admired the car so it stuck in his mind.”
    The lieutenant paused, as if waiting for Margaret to say something. Margaret’s stomach flip-flopped, but she returned his scrutinizing gaze.
    He continued, “The worker noticed the vehicle had a foxhunting license plate. He thinks it was a personalized plate but doesn’t remember what it said on it.”
    “What do you mean by a foxhunting license plate?” Abigale asked.
    “Virginia offers license plates representing special-interest groups,” Mallory explained.” One of those is a foxhunting plate. It has a unique design with a fox and hound across the bottom of the plate. Quite easily identifiable.
    “We ran a check on all the foxhunting license plates, cross-referenced them with vehicle make and model. It was a relatively simple exercise, as you can imagine, since that model of BMW is relatively uncommon. In fact, we only came up with one match.”
    The lieutenant’s eyes shifted from Abigale to Margaret. “A green 1998 BMW M Coupe, with a personalized foxhunting plate: TALLYO. It’s registered to Manning Southwell. At this address.”
    “Manning is my son,” Margaret said, managing to keep her voice steady.
    Mallory nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what we surmised. We’d like to talk to him.”
    “Well, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. Manning uses my address for mailing purposes, but he doesn’t live here.”
    “Where does he reside?”
    “Off Zulla Road.”
    Mallory pulled out a notepad. “What’s the address?”
    “He rents the cottage at Clifden Cross. That’s Ian and Claire McCullough’s place.”
    “Do you know if we could find him there now?”
    “There’s no telling. What with planning the funeral and the races, we’re running around like chickens with our heads cut off. I’ll probably see him later today. I can ask him to call you.”
    “I’d appreciate that.” Mallory fished a business card from his shirt pocket. “Here’s my direct number in case you don’t have it.”
    Margaret fingered the card. “I’ll see to it that he gets this.”
    “I don’t suppose you’d happen to know if your son was headed to Longmeadow when the worker spotted his car.”
    “I have no idea, Lieutenant. Like I said before, we’ve been running all over the place getting ready for the races. Manning has spent quite some hours at Longmeadow helping get the course ready, but I couldn’t tell you for sure when he was there and when he wasn’t.”
    “Any idea if your son spoke with Mr. Clarke by phone that afternoon?”
    “Not the foggiest, but I’m quite certain that if Manning had knowledge about anything pertinent to Richard’s murder, whether from a phone call or visit, he wouldn’t just be sitting on that information.”
    “Sure, I understand.” Mallory said. “We’d still like to question him.”
    “I’ll pass on your request.” Margaret’s chair squawked as she pushed back from the table.

CHAPTER
26

    A bigale stared after them as they disappeared down the hall. Was the unspoken implication that Manning was a potential
suspect
in Uncle Richard’s murder? The lieutenant hadn’t come right out and said so, but if you read between the lines…What was it he’d said? Something about not being certain that Dario Reyes was the shooter. And then, in