The Long Goodnight by George Wier

Author:George Wier [Wier, George]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B089T89B3J
Goodreads: 54381951
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2013-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tim and I had something to eat in the hotel breakfast room along with fifteen or so other hotel guests. The repast was omelettes, bacon, sausage patties, gravy, toast, and waffles, along with the obligatory coffee and orange juice.

As we ate, I told Tim about the conversation with Keesha. She had already heard that Parker was coming down to Georgetown, and she had little doubt that it was so that he could gloat when Caro Wallace was true-billed by the Grand Jury, thus kicking off the beginning stages of what was sure to be a spectacle of a trial.

“She might be biased.”

I looked up at Tim, and decided to swallow my eggs before speaking. “Yes. True. That’s the understatement of the year. By the way, who drinks tea for breakfast?”

“I do. Just sayin’, is all. Parker did something with the fortune she should have inherited. She had to work her way through college.”

“I didn’t have you her on speaker phone. I thought you were a little hard of hearing from all the loud rock music when you were younger?”

“I am. But I heard at least one side of the conversation, and put together the rest. Did she say where the old man will be staying?”

“Likely at his daughter’s residence. Her name is Wilma Waters, and that there is what you call a name. She’s in her late sixties or early seventies. Something like that. Keesha gave me the address.”

“Good.”

We continued to eat, but in silence.

Tim looked cleaned and pressed with a tee shirt bearing the faded logo of some obscure East Texas band, and also with a different hat perched on his head. This one wasn’t plain and brown, but had about ten different colors shooting through it.

“Nice hat.”

He nodded, but didn’t otherwise speak.

After breakfast, we hurriedly cleared out of our rooms and got back on the road to Georgetown.

*****

It was going to be a scorcher of day, and doubly so from the day previous because of the humidity in the air from all the rain. You have to love Central Texas.

We made the trip in a little under an hour, and as we got out at the Georgetown Police Department, Tim whistled. “Oh man. It’s a hot one.”

“Yeah.”

“Texas.”

“Yep.”

We went in and through the rigamarole at the front counter. Detective Balboa Benning put in an appearance after a five-minute wait.

“Back so soon?”

I nodded.

“Well, come on back.”

He led us to his office, and Tim and I found ourselves ensconced in Benning’s not-very-comfortable office chairs once more.

“What did you think of Parker?” Benning asked me.

“There’s either some bad blood between him and Caro, or he’s just a mean old man. It’s the good ones that seem to die young.”

“Isn’t that the truth. So how can I help you?”

“That file of yours—the one with all the copies of newspaper clippings? I’d like to borrow that.”

“Of course. I’ve got it all saved electronically anyway.” He reached down and opened his bottom desk drawer and handed the file to me. I handed it immediately to Tim.

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