by Nora Roberts
Burns tossed another photo across the desk, but in this one, Barbara Kinsdale was very dead. “Where were you on the night of May 22 of this year. Mr. Longstreet?”
“Oh, Jesus.” Dwayne shut his eyes. The body hadn’t been covered in the police shot, but had been laid out, gray and tortured, for the cold camera lens.
“I should tell you that my information places you in Nashville from the twenty-first to the twenty-third.”
“I took my boys to the zoo.” Dwayne rubbed shaking hands over his eyes. It did look like Sissy. God almighty, especially dead it looked like Sissy. “I took them to the zoo and to a pizza parlor. They stayed with me at the hotel.”
“On the night of the twenty-second you were seen in the hotel bar at approximately ten-thirty. Your children weren’t with you.”
“They were asleep. I left them in the room and went down and had a drink. Couple drinks,” he said with a sigh. “Sissy’d been on me about doing more for them, and wanting a bigger house once she and the guy she was with got married. I didn’t have more than two drinks because I didn’t want to forget the boys were asleep upstairs.”
“And didn’t you call your wife from the bar just before midnight?” Burns continued. “You argued with her, threatened her.”
“I called her. I was sitting there in the room while the boys slept. My boys. It didn’t seem right that I was to help her buy a new house so she could live in it with another man my sons would think of as a father.” Pale, shaken, Dwayne looked over at Tucker. “It wasn’t the money.”
“It was the humiliation,” Burns suggested. “The humiliation at the hands of a woman. She’d already made you a laughingstock by locking you out of your own house, leaving you for another man. Now she was demanding more money so she could live a better life with that man.”
“I didn’t care who she lived with. It just didn’t seem right—”
“No, it didn’t seem right,” Burns agreed. “So you told her there’d be no more money, and that you’d take her to court if she didn’t watch her step. That you’d pay her back.”
“I don’t know what I said exactly.”
“She does. Oh, despite your estrangement, she’s loyal enough to add that you were always full of bluster when you’d been drinking. She didn’t take anything you said seriously, and went back to listen to the next set at the bar. Even stayed on after it closed, since she didn’t have the boys to get home to. But Barbara Kinsdale left about two. She walked out into a deserted parking lot. A dark parking lot, where she was knocked unconscious and dragged to a waiting car. She was driven to the lake and slaughtered.”
Burns waited a beat. “Do you own a knife, Mr. Longstreet? A long-bladed hunting knife?”
“This is crazy.” Dwayne dropped his hands into his lap. “I didn’t kill anybody.”
“Where were you on the night of June thirtieth, between nine P.M. and midnight?”
“For chrissakes.” He stumbled to his feet. “Burke, for chrissakes.”
“I think he should have a lawyer.” Strain had etched lines around Burke’s mouth when he turned to Burns. “I don’t think he should answer any more questions without a lawyer.”
Well satisfied, Burns spread his hands. “That’s his right, of course.”
“I was just driving around,” Dwayne blurted out. “It was raining and I didn’t want to go home. I had a flask in the car and I just drove around.”
“And on the night of June twelfth?” Burns asked, working back to the night of Edda Lou’s murder.
“I don’t know. How the fuck is a man supposed to remember where he is every night of the year?”
“Don’t say anything else.” Tucker stepped forward to take both of Dwayne’s arms. “Don’t say anything. You hear me?”
“Tucker, I didn’t—you know I didn’t.”
“I know. Be quiet.” He turned to stand between Burns and his brother. “Are you bringing charges?”
The holiday weekend had bogged down his paperwork. Not everyone was as dedicated to justice as Matthew Burns. “I’ll have a warrant within twenty-four hours.”
“Fine. In the meantime you can fuck yourself. Let’s get you home, Dwayne.”
“Mr. Longstreet,” Burns rose with a nod to each brother. “I’d advise that neither of you think of leaving the area. The federal government has a very long arm.”
“I need a drink.”
“You need to keep a clear head,” Tucker contradicted him, and punched Josie’s car up to seventy. “You stay clear of the bottle, Dwayne.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to shoot his brother a warning. “Until we get this mess straightened out, you stay clear. I mean it.”
“They think I did it.” Dwayne rubbed his hands over his face until he was afraid he’d scrub off a layer of skin. “They think I killed all those women, Tuck. Even the one I’d never seen before. She looked like Sissy. Christ, she did look like Sissy.”
“We’re going to call our lawyer,” Tucker said calmly even as his knuckles whitened on the wheel. “And you’re going to keep your head clear so you can think back. Think back real carefully until you find out what you were doing, who you were with when Arnette, Francie, and Edda Lou were killed. One’s all you need. One of those nights you had to be somewhere with somebody. They won’t have a case then. They know it was the same person killed them all. You just have to think.”
“Don’t you think I want to? Don’t you think I’m trying?” Teeth gritted, Dwayne pounded his fists on the dash. “Goddammit, you don’t know what it’s like once I start in drinking. I told you I forget things. I fucking blank out.” Moaning, he dropped his head between his knees. “I blank out, Tucker. Oh, God, I don’t know what I’m doing when that happens. I could’ve done it.” Terrified, he squeezed his eyes tight. “Jesus help me, I could’ve killed them all and not even know.”
“That’s bullshit.” Furious, Tucker swerved to the shoulder. Dwayne opened his runny eyes as the car jerked to a halt. He stared under the seat. Stared and stared until Tucker jerked him upright. “That’s fucking bullshit and I don’t want to hear any more of it.” He shoved Dwayne back, pushing his livid face into his brother’s pale one. “You didn’t kill anybody, and you get that plain in your head right now. I got an idea who did.”
Dwayne swallowed. His head was reeling along with his stomach, but he tried to grip on to that one sentence. “You know?”
“I said I have an idea. I’m going to check into it as soon as we call the lawyer and get him doing whatever the hell lawyers do.” He kept his grip tight on Dwayne’s shirt. “Now, you listen to me. You’re not going to go home and upset Della and Josie and everybody with talk about this. You’re going to hold on to yourself, you understand me? You’re going to tough this out until it’s fixed. If there was one thing the old man had right in his whole miserable ass-kicking life, it was that we’ve got a responsibility to the family. We’re going to stay whole, Dwayne.”
“To the family,” Dwayne repeated, and shuddered. “I won’t let you down.”
“All right.” He let Dwayne go, then sat back a minute to calm his jittery stomach. “We’ll show that Yankee bastard what Longstreets can do once they’re riled. I’ll call the governor. That ought to rattle Burns’s cage a bit. We’ll see how quick he gets his fucking warrant.”
“I want to go home.” Dwayne closed his eyes again when Tucker started the car. “I’ll be all right when I get home.”
A few minutes later they turned through the gates of Sweetwater. “You just tell them Burns asked you a bunch of stupid questions and that’s that,” Tucker advised. “Don’t say anything about Sissy or that business in Nashville.”
“I won’t.” Dwayne stared at the house, white and lovely and graceful as a woman in the morning sunlight. “I’m going to figure it out, Tucker. And I’ll fix it, like I used to.”
“This time you let me do the fixing.”
As Tucker parked by the steps, Josie came out. She was still in her robe and her hair
was tousled about the shoulders. It didn’t take Tucker longer than ten seconds to measure her mood as dangerous. She strutted down the steps to greet them, slapping a hairbrush against her palm.
“Looks like I’m going to have to start locking my car and taking my keys inside with me.”
With a shrug, Tucker pulled her keys out and tossed them to her. “I had business in town. You were asleep.”
“You’ll notice, Mr. Longstreet, it’s my name on the registration of this vehicle. I don’t appreciate you commandeering it whenever you have the whim.” She poked the brush into his chest. “It’s common courtesy to ask for the use of someone else’s property.”
“I said you were asleep.”
Fluttering her lashes, she scanned the driveway. “Mine is not the only car here.”
“It was the first one I came to.” He checked his temper and tried a smile. “You sure did wake up on the wrong side of the bed, darling.”
She met charm with a haughty look. “I might suggest you consider getting yourself alternate transportation until that toy of yours is repaired.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her cheek. “You sound just like Mama.”
Josie sniffed and stepped back. “What are you staring at, Dwayne?” Automatically, she fluffed at her hair, then her eyes changed. “Why, honey, you look just awful. What’ve you boys been up to so early?”
“Just some business in town,” Tucker repeated before Dwayne could answer. “You’d better get yourself prettied up if you’re going to the parade.”
“ ’Course I’m going. The Longstreets never miss a Fourth of July parade. Dwayne, you come inside and get yourself something to eat. You’re green around the gills.”
“He hasn’t recovered from the carnival.”
“Aw.” Instantly solicitous, Josie took her brother’s arm. “You go in and have Della fix you up something. Cousin Lulu shouldn’t have teased you into going on that Round-Up.”
“I’m all right.” He put his arms around her, holding her close. “Josie. It’s going to be all right.”
“Of course it is, honey.” She patted his back. “It’s a fine day for a parade, and it’ll be a finer night for fireworks. Go on now, so I can paint my face.” She waved him inside, but held up a hand to stop Tucker. She forgot all about being annoyed with him. “What’s wrong with Dwayne?”
“They had him in for questioning this morning.”
Her eyes lit. “Dwayne?”
“They’ll call us all in, I imagine. It’s just standard.”
She began to tap the brush against her palm again. “Why, I might have to give Matthew Burns a piece of my mind.”
“Let it go, Jose. It’s nothing to worry about. He’ll feel better once we get this holiday started.”
“All right, but I’m going to keep an eye on him.” She patted the keys in her pocket as she started into the house. “Next time you ask, you hear?” She passed Caroline in the doorway. “You watch out for that one, Caro. He’s a scoundrel.”
“I already know.” Caroline stepped out on the porch, then, to please herself, turned a showy circle. The skirt of her pale blue sundress swirled out, then settled softly around her legs.
Tucker stayed on the step below and took her hands. The dress had flirty laces at the bodice and a back cut to the waist. “You sure do look a picture.”
“I heard I was going on a picnic after the parade.”
“That’s a fact.” He kissed the palm of her hand, then held it against his cheek a moment. They said you didn’t know what you had until you’d lost it. Tucker thought he’d discovered something that was equally true. You didn’t know what had been missing from your life until you found it. “Caroline?”
She turned her hands to link her fingers with his. “What is it?”
“I’ve got a lot of things to say to you.” He moved up the steps until their mouths were level and the kiss could be sweet. “I sure as hell hope you’re ready to hear them when I do. Right now I’ve got some business to see to. You mind riding to the parade with Della? I’ll meet you there.”
“I could wait.”
He shook his head and kissed her again. “I’d rather you went on.”
“All right, then. I’ll pile in with Della and Cy and Cousin Lulu—who’s going to be the hit of the day. She’s wearing trousers with the Confederate flag on one leg and the American flag on the other. The flag of the Revolution, I should say.”
“You can always count on Cousin Lulu.”
“Tucker.” Caroline cupped his face in her hands. “If you have trouble, I wish you’d share it with me.”
“I will soon enough. You look just right here, Caroline. Standing on the porch with your blue dress, the door open behind you and bees buzzing in the flowers. You look just right.” He wrapped his arms around her, held her there a moment while he wished the world would stay like this, pretty and peaceful and as gracious as a lovely woman dressed in blue.
“You be ready for those fireworks tonight,” he told her. “And for what I want to say to you after.” His arms tightened. “Caroline, I want—”
“God sakes,” Lulu muttered from the doorway. “Tucker, are you going to stand around all day smooching with that Yankee? We got to get on or we won’t get a decent spot to watch the parade.”
“There’s time yet.” But Tucker released Caroline. “You keep an eye on this Yankee till I get there,” he began, then his face split with a grin. “I declare, Cousin Lulu, you look good enough to run up the flagpole. Where’d you get those pants?”
“Had ’em made special.” She spread her scrawny, flag-bedecked legs. “Got me a jacket to match, but it’s too cursed hot to wear it.” She stuck an eagle feather into her hair, where it drooped over one ear. “I’m ready to go.”
“Then you’d better get.” He gave Caroline a quick kiss before heading inside. “I’ll send the others out. Cousin Lulu, you make sure Caroline doesn’t go wandering off with some smooth talker.”
Lulu snorted. “She’s not about to go far.”
Caroline smiled. “No, I’m not.”
chapter 28
“Just how many of these lunatics you figure’ll drop from heat stroke before two o’clock?” Cousin Lulu posed the question from the comfort of her personalized director’s chair. A red, white, and blue umbrella was hooked to the back and tilted to a jaunty angle, while a thermos of mint juleps snuggled between her feet.
“We never have more than five or six faint on us,” Della said placidly from the web chair beside her. She didn’t think she could outdo Lulu’s pants, but she’d stuck a miniature American flag in her bushy hair in an attempt. “Most of them are young.”
As a marching band strutted by blaring Sousa, Lulu played along on a plastic zither. She enjoyed the wall of sound, the glint of brass in bright sun, but she couldn’t help but think that a couple of swooning piccolo players would add some zip.
“That tuba blower there, the husky one with the pimples? He looks a bit glassy-eyed to me. Ten bucks says he drops in the next block.”
Della’s natural competitive instinct had her studying the boy. He was sweating freely, and she imagined his natty uniform was going to smell like wet goat before the day was up. But he looked hardy enough. “You’re on.”
“I dearly love a parade.” Lulu tucked her zither behind her ear like a pencil so she could pour another drink. “Next to weddings, funerals, and poker games, I can’t think of anything more entertaining.”
Della snorted and cooled her face with a palm-sized battery-operated fan. “You can have yourself a funeral tomorrow if you want. We’ve been having us a regular plague of funerals lately.” Sighing, Della helped herself to some of the contents of Lulu’s thermos. “I reckon this is the first time in fifteen years that Happy hasn’t marched on by with the Ladies Garden Club.”
“Why ain’t she marching?”
“Her daughter’s going in the ground tomorrow.”
Lulu watched the pom-pom division of Jefferson
Davis High shake by to the tune of “It’s a Grand Old Flag.”
“A good, whopping funeral’ll set her to rights,” Lulu predicted. “What’re you making for after the burying?”
“My coconut ambrosia.” Della shaded her eyes and grinned. “Why, look there, Cousin Lulu. Look at Carl Johnson’s baby twirl that baton. She’s a regular whirling dervish.”
“She’s a pistol, all right.” Lulu enjoyed a cackle and another sip of julep. “You know, Della, life’s like one of them batons. You can spin it around your fingers if you’ve got the talent for it. You can toss it right up in the air and snatch it back if you’re quick. Or you can let it fly and conk somebody on the head.” She smiled and plucked the zither from behind her ear. “I do dearly love a parade.”
From behind Lulu, Caroline thought over the analogy and shook her head. It made a spooky kind of sense. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever conked anyone on the head with the baton of life, but she’d certainly dropped it a few times. Right now she was doing her best to make it spin.
“That there’s the Cotton Princess and her court,” Cy told Caroline. “The whole high school votes on her every year. She was supposed to ride in back of Mr. Tucker’s car, but since it got banged up, they rented that convertible from Avis in Greenville.”
“She’s lovely.” Caroline smiled at the girl in her puffy-sleeved white dress and sweat-sheened face.
“She’s Kerry Sue Hardesty.” Watching her made Cy think of Kerry’s younger sister, LeeAnne. She of the soft, fascinating breasts. As the car cruised by, Cy scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse. He didn’t spot LeeAnne, but he did spot Jim, and waved desperately.
“Why don’t you go over and see your friend, Cy? You can meet us at the car when the parade’s finished.”
He yearned, but shook his head and stood firm. Mr. Tucker was counting on him to stay close to Miss Caroline. They’d had a real man-to-man talk about it. “No, ma’am. I’m fine right here. There’s Miss Josie and that FBI doctor. He’s got one of those lapel flowers that squirts water in your face. He sure is a caution.”