“You saw all this, too,” I said to Laura.
“Yes, and more than Frank because I was looking at the street.” She paused, frowning. “I know this might sound crazy, but I think that car swerved deliberately to hit the man.”
EIGHTEEN
Laura’s statement disturbed me. If she was interpreting what she saw correctly, that meant someone had deliberately tried to kill or injure Bill Delaney. Why on earth would someone want him dead?
“Think about it carefully,” I said. “Close your eyes and replay the scene in your mind. Tell us what you see.”
“All right, Dad.” Laura closed her eyes.
Frank and I watched her. She didn’t speak right away. She leaned back in her seat. I could see her relaxing her body, bit by bit. “Okay,” she said. “Frank and I are coming out of the bistro. He’s holding the door like he always does. Such a Southern gentleman.” She smiled briefly, then resumed her narrative. “I step out first and glance to my right because I don’t want to walk into anyone. I see an elderly man weaving his way toward us. He’s about thirty feet away, maybe.” She paused.
“That’s excellent,” I said in a low tone. “Go on.”
Laura nodded. “I’m worried the poor man might fall and hurt himself, so I tell Frank to look at him. Frank does and then he moves around me to walk toward the man to help him in case he does start to fall. Then the man kind of shambles sideways a few steps, and he’s off the curb now into an empty parking space.”
Laura paused for a deep, steadying breath. “I see that Frank is moving toward him quickly to try to catch him before he falls into the street. I’m afraid a car might hit him, so I glance toward the street. A car is coming kind of fast, a big, dark SUV of some kind. I want to shout and wave at the car, but I can’t. I’m too horrified. I watch as the car gets near the poor man who is now a little bit into the street. Frank is almost there.”
She frowned. “The car seems to jerk, hard to the right, as it nears the man. It hits him, and Frank reaches for him but he falls to the pavement. The car accelerated and disappeared down a side street.” She opened her eyes.
“Have you told this to the policeman?” I asked.
“I wasn’t sure I really saw it,” Laura said. “Now, though, I know I did.”
I believed her. She had an excellent visual memory.
“You know, I saw it, too.” Frank frowned. “I was visualizing it while Laura talked, and now I remember seeing the car come close and hitting the man. There was a kind of jerky motion to it. So I think Laura’s right. Whoever did it meant to do it.”
“Did either of you get a look at the driver?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Laura said. “The windows were lightly tinted, but I could see someone in profile. Whoever it was had longish hair, but I didn’t see them long enough to get an impression of gender.”
“I didn’t see that much,” Frank said. “I was focused on the victim.”
“Anything else about the car, other than that it was a large, dark SUV?” I asked.
“Yes.” Frank told me the make and model. “An expensive vehicle, probably less than two years old.”
“It’s not much to go on,” I said, “but there could be other witnesses. That’s up to the police, though.”
Laura nudged me. “Here’s the cop now,” she said in an undertone.
I stood to greet the officer. “Bizarre coincidence, as it turns out. This young couple who saw the accident are my daughter and son-in-law. My daughter has more information for you.”
“What would that be, ma’am?” the policeman asked.
“Excuse me.” I saw the woman from the front desk in the doorway to the waiting room waving at me. “I think I’m needed.”
I approached the woman. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”
“We’re hoping you can help us with more information about the patient,” she said. “Would you mind coming back to the desk with me?”
“Of course,” I said as I followed her. “I have to tell you, though, I may not be much help. I barely know Mr. Delaney despite the fact that we are somewhat related.”
“Anything you can tell us is helpful,” she said. “The person with the questions is at the end of the desk there.” She pointed toward a young black man with a clipboard.
I walked over. The young man stood and indicated a chair by the desk. I took it while he resumed his seat. “What can I help you with?”
“You’re related to Mr. Delaney?” the young man asked.
I nodded. “By marriage. His father was married to my aunt. Both of them are deceased. I didn’t meet Mr. Delaney until recently, and I don’t know many details of his life. I’m willing to answer whatever I can.”
“Thank you.” The young man had his eyes on his clipboard. “He has his driver’s license and his Medicare card with him. According to the license he lives in Tullahoma. Is that correct?”
“As far as I know,” I said, “that is his permanent residence. He has been staying in an apartment in Athena, however, for the past few weeks.” I gave him the address, and he added it to the form.
“Are you his next of kin?”
I shrugged. “In a way, I suppose I am. I don’t know whether he has any other family. Whether he’s married, divorced, has children of his own, anything like that.”
“For our purposes, you’ll do, if you consent to that.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “Do you have any other questions?”
“No, sir. Thank you for your help.”
I stood and nodded, smiling, then I walked back to the waiting room. The policeman was still with Laura and Frank.
Laura looked unhappy, and Frank looked aggravated. I gathered that perhaps telling the officer they thought the hit-and-run was deliberate hadn’t gone over well.
“What’s the matter?” I asked when I reached them.
“I don’t think he believes us,” Laura said, confirming my suspicion.
I stared hard at the policeman. “Officer, if my daughter tells you she saw that car swerve toward Mr. Delaney, then that car swerved toward Mr. Delaney.”
The policeman put up a hand as if to ward off a blow or to get me to be quiet. “Okay, whatever you say. Now, since you’re the only one here who seems to know the victim, what can you tell me about him? Other family? He seems to be from Tullahoma, according to his driver’s license.”
Once again I went through the bare list of facts I knew about Bill Delaney, omitting, of course, anything about his connection to the Barber case. If the police wanted to delve into his past, it wouldn’t take them long to find it out for themselves.
“So you don’t think he knows anyone here?” the policeman said. “Do you know where he’s staying here in town?”
“I can answer the latter question.” I gave him the address. “As to whether he knows anyone, I don’t know. I’ve only encountered him at the library.” While I was speaking, a memory surfaced. That lipstick Diesel found in the apartment. That must belong to someone Delaney knew.
“I went to see him earlier today, I believe you will remember my telling y’all that in his room a little while ago.”
The officer nodded, and I continued. “While we—my cat and I, that is—were there, my cat found a lipstick on the floor and was playing with it. So someone else had been in the apartment, presumably, besides us and Mr. Delaney.”
“You had your cat with you?” The policeman frowned. “Hey, wait a minute, I know who you are now. You’ve got that ginormous cat, and you take it around all over town with you.”
“Yes, I do. His name is Diesel, and he’s a Maine Coon.” I didn’t feel like giving the man the rest of the spiel about the breed that I usually shared. The size of my cat had nothing to do with the present situation. I was getting irked by this man and his attitude. I glanced at his badge and noted his name. Kernodle. I wou
ld remember it.
The policeman must have sensed my annoyance. He turned back to Laura and Frank. “We don’t have much to go on with the description you gave me of the car, but we’ll have to see if anyone else in the area saw what happened. If we’re lucky, maybe someone got the license number, or one of the businesses might have a surveillance camera. We’ll be in touch if we need to talk to you again.” He nodded before he turned and strode out of the waiting room.
“What now?” Frank looked at Laura. “I guess we’d better give up on the movie for today.”
“I’m not in the mood for it anymore,” Laura said. “Maybe next weekend?”
Frank looked at me. “That okay with you, Charlie?”
“Of course,” I said. “At the moment, I don’t have any plans for next Saturday. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Laura hugged me. “You’re the best.”
“Are you going to stick around here?” Frank asked as they prepared to leave.
“I was planning to, but I’m having second thoughts about that,” I said. “It could be a couple of hours or more before I can see Delaney and talk to him. I’m thinking of going home. They can call me if I’m needed. It’s not like I live an hour away.”
“No, there’s nothing in Athena that’s more than about thirty minutes from anything else.” Frank smiled. “One of the perks of living in a small town.”
“Yes,” I said. “After living in Houston all those years, it’s a pleasure not to have to spend an hour in the car to get to a place not that far away.” I did miss a few things about Houston, chiefly its variety of restaurants and bookstores, but not its size or its traffic. “Y’all go ahead. I’m going to stop by the desk and let them know I’m going home.”
Laura and Frank headed for the parking lot. I spoke briefly to the woman at the desk, and I finally noticed her name tag. Rosalie McAlister. I felt bad about not having remembered her name earlier. I thanked her, using her name, after I gave her my home phone number.
“Someone will call you when he’s able to have visitors,” she said.
With that assurance, I left the hospital. On the drive home I thought about the hit-and-run. Why had someone hit Bill Delaney on purpose? A random act of violence? Sadly there were people in the world who would do things like that, I knew. I suspected, however, that there was a personal motive behind this attack.
I didn’t know what Delaney’s personality was like when he was drinking heavily. Was he combative? Aggressive? Or was he the quiet type of drunk who didn’t bother anyone and kept to himself?
If he was the nasty, bellicose sort of drunk, he could easily have made a number of enemies over the years, I reckoned. Maybe one of them had seen him lumbering toward the street and seized the opportunity when he moved within striking distance.
I suddenly remembered something Haskell had told me. Not long after the initial investigation into the Barber murders failed to produce a viable suspect, Delaney had disappeared from Tullahoma. No one, perhaps other than his mother, knew where he had been since then. He suddenly resurfaced in Athena after his mother’s death. In Tullahoma, I presumed. I ought to check on that and find out where she died. Ernie Carpenter might know. I figured there would have been something in the Tullahoma newspaper about Sylvia Delaney’s passing.
I had the uneasy feeling that the hit-and-run was connected to the events of twenty years ago—the Barber case. There was that lipstick in Delaney’s apartment to account for. It could have been left there by the previous tenant, I supposed, but somehow I didn’t think it had. Surely Delaney would have noticed it and disposed of it before Diesel found it this morning.
Delaney’s life could be in danger. If the person who struck him down found out Delaney was still alive, he or she might try again. The man seemed to have no friends, and we were connected by the fact of his father’s marriage to my aunt. My step-cousin.
I knew what Aunt Dottie would want me to do.
By now I had reached home. I turned into the driveway and pulled into the garage. I left the car’s motor and air-conditioning running while I dug my phone out of my pocket. I found Jack Pemberton’s number in my list of calls and tapped the call button. I waited long enough for an answer that I thought the call was going to voice mail, but Jack finally answered.
He must have recognized my number because he greeted me by name. “Have you thought it over?” he asked. “About us working on the Barber case?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m in.”
NINETEEN
I regretted those last two words the moment they were out of my mouth because I foresaw nothing but difficulties in involving myself in a twenty-year-old quadruple homicide case. I also knew that I couldn’t back out now, not with Aunt Dottie’s voice in my head urging me to do whatever I could to help Uncle Del’s son.
“That’s great, Charlie,” Jack said. “How about we get together tomorrow and talk about it? That is, if you’ve got time. I can come to Athena or, if you’d rather, you can come here. My wife knows all about this and is really looking forward to meeting you.”
“I’ll have to call you back later today about getting together,” I said. “I need to discuss this with my family first. I made the decision only a minute ago, and they need to know about it. There’s also more to tell you from this end, but I can’t go into it right now.”
“Okay, whatever works. Call me when you’re ready,” Jack said.
“Will do.” I ended the call.
I sat in the car, trying to plan how I was going to present my decision to Helen Louise and my children. I didn’t think any of them would be really happy with me about this. Sean would be more upset than anyone else. He was the one who usually nagged me the most about my knack for getting involved in murder cases.
I switched off the air conditioner and the ignition. Time to go in and get it over with, I told myself.
Diesel greeted me at the door with a loud recital of things he had to tell me. A couple of the meows sounded like complaints because no matter whom I left him with, he was always aggravated that I left him behind when I went anywhere. I rubbed his head several times, which had the desired effect. I seemed to be forgiven.
“He was perfectly happy with me and baby Charlie until he heard you pull into the garage.” Helen Louise gave me a kiss. “I guess that’s when he remembered that you abandoned him.”
I laughed. “He’s the nagging wife I never had, or at least it feels that way sometimes.” I kissed Helen Louise back. “Are Laura and Frank still here? I didn’t notice whether their car was parked on the street.”
“They’re in the living room getting Charlie ready to go home,” Helen Louise said. “They haven’t said much of anything about Bill Delaney because Laura couldn’t wait to see the baby. How is he?”
“Two broken legs and skinned up in various places, including his head,” I said. “My impression was that he would be okay. They didn’t find any signs of internal injuries.”
“Thank goodness. That poor man,” Helen Louise said. “I hope they catch the driver.”
“I do, too.” I helped myself to a can of diet soda from the fridge before I joined Helen Louise at the table. Diesel had evidently gone back to check on the baby after he finished chastising me and being petted.
Frank stepped into the kitchen. “Thanks for looking after Charlie.” He smiled. “My only regret is that you didn’t get to do it a bit longer today.”
Helen Louise and I smiled. “Next weekend,” I said. “Hopefully things will be calmer then.” Seeing Frank start to turn away, I said, “If y’all can stay a few more minutes, there’s something I really need to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” Frank said. “Let me get Laura.” He disappeared into the hallway.
“I need to remind Laura about the milk she brought over. I gave Charlie one bottle a little while ago, but there�
��s another one in the fridge,” Helen Louise said.
I nodded. Moments later Laura and Frank came into the kitchen. Laura held my sleeping grandson. Diesel kept pace beside her. “What is it you want to talk about, Dad?” Frank pulled out a chair for her, and once she was settled he took the vacant chair across from her. Diesel stretched out on the floor beside Laura’s chair.
“Before I forget it, there’s one bottle of milk left,” Helen Louise said. “I forgot to tell you earlier.”
“Thanks,” Frank said. “I’ll grab it before we leave.”
“Go ahead, Dad,” Laura said. “We’re listening.”
Here goes, I thought. “You all already know that I feel a sense of responsibility for Bill Delaney’s welfare, thanks to his connection to Aunt Dottie, tenuous as it is after all these years.”
They all nodded. Helen Louise’s eyes narrowed as she regarded me intently. I had a feeling she had figured out what I was going to say to them.
“Jack Pemberton wants to investigate the Barber murders to see if he can solve them,” I said. “He wants me to help him, and I called him a few minutes ago and said I would. And here’s one reason why. Someone attempted to kill Bill Delaney today. I don’t believe it was a random thing. I believe that his life could be in danger as long as the Barber case remains unsolved.”
Helen Louise’s expression of shock reminded me belatedly that she hadn’t heard Laura’s version of the hit-and-run. I hastily explained, and the shock faded, to be replaced by calculation. I knew that meant she had her legal mind-set engaged and was assessing the facts. I loved her ability to analyze and draw reasonable conclusions.
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