Burials by Mary Anna Evans

Author:Mary Anna Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, Inc.
Published: 2016-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“Damn straight I want to know more about that bone,” Cloud said. “I also want to know whether Emily is getting professional help. That woman does not sound stable.”

“What? You don’t approve of following people for hours so you can find out where they live? Or hiding outside the house to watch them shower? Stalkers need love, too.”

Faye liked Cloud’s laugh. It even sounded good over the phone. His laugh was just right for his personality. It was solid. Warm. It made you feel safe about letting down your guard. She would not want to be a criminal who was trying to keep a secret from Roy Cloud.

“Did you say Emily said the bone turned up about the time Dr. Townsend died? On the very last day anybody saw her alive? I’m glad Bigbee wanted to call everybody in again today to talk about Sophia’s cabin, because I want to ask them about that bone. I don’t know why I didn’t hammer harder on whether any of them had ever been to the cabin themselves. Everybody talked like it was her retreat from people, which did suit the antisocial woman everybody said she was. I was an idiot not to think that she maybe took her lovers out there.”

“It’s a weird case. You were flying by the seat of your pants on the first day.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure that’s what it was. How’s this? Emily got you up at an ungodly hour, so why don’t we go ahead and start the day?”

Faye looked longingly at the untouched cup of coffee in her hand. Well, she owned a travel mug.

“Can you come on down to the station and help us with the interviews, Doctor Faye? Bigbee is very good at intimidating witnesses by staring at them and saying exactly nothing. And I’m plenty capable of asking a bunch of people the same questions over and over, just to see what they say. I even throw in a new one now and then to keep them on their toes, but I don’t know a damn thing about ancient bones and potsherds. That’s what you call those little bits of broken pots? Potsherds?”

“Yes. You’re saying it right.”

“Potsherds. Okay. Let’s start with Kenny Summers, because you tell me that the notebooks say he was arguing with his boss during that last week.”

“Hang on,” Faye said, searching through the loaded dish rack for her travel mug. “What about Mickey? Emily says he’s the one who told her their boss had run off to her mountain cabin. I’d like to know who told him.”

“So you think we should chase this rumor until somebody tells us where it came from? Or until somebody says something that can’t possibly be true? I like it, Doctor Faye. And yeah. We can start with Mickey.”

“I can be there before you and Bigbee get Mickey in the hot seat.”

Faye put the travel mug on the table and started sliding papers into her briefcase with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.

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