by Sherry Lewis
Fred wondered about the two men, but before he could draw any conclusions, a shout from the highway caught his attention. He turned halfway around to see what caused the commotion and saw a dark-colored Isuzu Trooper stopped at Grady’s barrier.
He watched as the driver’s door opened and Nancy emerged. Relieved that she’d finally shown up, he climbed out of his car and hurried toward her. He didn’t want her to be alone when she heard the news about Adam. But his knees twinged from the pace he set, and the pain forced him to slow down a little.
Grady got to her before Fred could, holding her back when she would have run toward the building. The young man used his walkie-talkie again, and Nancy looked totally bewildered.
She didn’t see Fred until he’d almost reached the shoulder of the road, but the instant she recognized him her expression clouded in confusion and she started toward him. “Uncle Fred? What’s going on?”
Grady tried to assert his authority. “Mrs. Bigelow, I have to ask you to wait here for Sheriff Asay.”
Nancy’s eyes snapped with anger. “I don’t want to wait for Sheriff Asay, I want to know what’s going on. Now.”
Fred reached her side and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Can’t you tell her?”
“The sheriff wants to talk with her first,” Grady insisted.
“Tell me what?” Nancy demanded. “What’s going on? Where’s Adam?”
Neither man answered.
“Uncle Fred?”
He tightened his arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nancy—”
Enlightenment slowly replaced her puzzled look. “Adam? He’s all right, isn’t he?”
Grady looked so uncomfortable, Fred almost felt sorry for him.
Nancy pulled away from Fred and started toward the building, but Grady caught her before she’d taken more than a couple of steps. “Mrs. Bigelow, wait here. Please.”
“Something’s happened to him, hasn’t it?”
Fred wrapped his arms around her again, and Grady relinquished her to him.
“Is he hurt? Tell me!”
Fred could only say, “I’m sorry.”
Nancy’s eyes widened and her face lost its color. “Is he dead?”
“I’m afraid so,” Fred admitted.
“Adam!” she screamed and tried to tear herself away.
Fred remembered the pain of losing Phoebe and his eyes burned with tears. Nancy tried to get away, but Fred held on, letting her fight until her energy flagged. When she finally stopped struggling, he smoothed her hair and rubbed her back, letting her tears wet the front of his shirt.
“Why?” she sobbed. “Why?”
He had no answer. His heart twisted under the weight of her grief. Some sixth sense warned him this was only the beginning. She’d argued with her husband the night before he died, and she’d disappeared for hours afterward. Fred knew Nancy well enough to know she couldn’t have killed her husband, but Enos wouldn’t be so certain. If he didn’t consider her a suspect now, he soon would. And Nancy would go through hell before this was all over.
FOUR
When Enos came barreling out of EnviroSampl’s front door a minute or two later, Fred did his best to keep his expression innocent. Enos might understand why Fred felt compelled to help Nancy, but he’d never willingly accept Fred’s decision to actually try to help. And after the two previous murder investigations Fred had inadvertently been involved in, Enos would definitely be on guard. But that couldn’t be helped. Nancy was family. If Enos had a problem with that, Fred would just have to find a way around him.
Enos reached them, obviously unhappy to see Fred out of his car but, to his credit, he didn’t say a word about it. He reached one hand out to Nancy almost tenderly. “Are you all right? Should I call Doc to bring you a sedative or something?”
Nancy shook her head. “No. I don’t want anything. I’m all right.” She sounded strong, but Fred could tell that she was struggling to hold herself together. “Will you tell me how it happened?”
Enos studied her for a long moment, either trying to decide how straightforward to be or how much she already knew. “Adam was shot,” he said at last. “At fairly close range.”
Nancy’s knees buckled and she sagged a little. “When?”
“Doc figures it was probably early morning. Two o’clock—maybe three.”
“What was Adam doing here at that time of morning?” Fred asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
“Where did the bullet hit him?” Nancy whispered.
“In the back of the head.”
She moaned softly and closed her eyes for a moment. “Do you think somebody broke in?” she asked when she felt strong enough.
Enos shook his head slowly. “No signs of forced entry. Looks like the murderer had a key or else Adam let him in.”
“Which means the killer had to be someone Adam knew,” Fred said. “A co-worker or a friend.” Or a family member.
Nancy’s jaw worked as if she wanted to speak, but no sound came out. She covered her mouth with both hands and a sob caught in the back of her throat.
Enos glared at Fred, but Fred thought he looked more sad than angry. Enos put an arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. “We’ll find the person who did this, I promise.”
She nodded, gulping back tears until she could speak again. “Do you have any idea who it was?”
“Not yet. It’s still too soon. But I’ve got good men on it.” He nodded toward a clump of undergrowth near the building and Fred recognized Robert Alpers in the brush.
“Have you found the murder weapon yet?” he asked.
“No, but if it’s out there, we’ll find it. All we know for certain is that the bullet came from a small caliber weapon. We’re sending the slug to the lab. We’ll know more when we get their test results.” Enos turned slightly, focusing his attention on Nancy. “How are you holding up? Do you feel up to answering a few questions for me?”
“Now?” Fred asked. “Can’t it wait?”
“I’m afraid not,” Enos said, “but I’ll be brief. I promise.”
She looked confused, grief-stricken, shocked. Fred hated to see her like this—so overwhelmed by Adam’s death she couldn’t take it all in. He leaned close and spoke so only she could hear. “You’ll be all right. Go with Enos and answer his questions. Everything will work out.”
She met his gaze uncertainly, but she finally managed a trembling smile before she turned back to Enos. “Okay. I guess.”
Enos took her arm to help her over a patch of uneven ground. “Are the keys still in your car?”
Nancy nodded.
Enos gestured toward the Trooper. “Grady, pull Nancy’s car into the parking lot and lock it up for her. And Fred—go on home. We’ll take care of her.”
Fred had no intention of leaving until Nancy was free to go. He trailed Enos for a couple of steps. “I don’t mind waiting. I can give her a ride home when you’re through.”
“That’s not necessary,” Enos said without looking back.
He tried another tack. “I don’t mind waiting a while longer to give you my statement.”
Enos didn’t look interested. If anything, he gripped Nancy’s arm a little tighter. “I’m going to have to get your statement later.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” Fred repeated.
Enos pivoted to face him, and the look on his face told Fred he meant business. “Well, I do mind. I want you out of here. Now. And don’t try manipulating me into letting you stay.”
“I’m not trying to manipulate anything,” Fred protested.
Enos made a noise like a growl. Heartburn most likely.
Fred decided it might be best to bypass him. “Do you want me to wait, Nancy?”
Enos’s face darkened. “Knock it off, Fred.” Angry now, he pulled Nancy into step with him again.
This time Fred didn’t follow. He knew when to back off. But he watched until Enos and Nancy disappeared inside the building, then walked slowly b
ack toward his car, wishing he could think of some way to stretch out the walk until Nancy came outside again. Unfortunately, anything he did would only anger Enos further. He knew how far he could push Enos and still keep his friendship. And he knew he’d reached the limit. For now.
He crossed the parking lot, convinced that the people clustered together outside the building were speculating about Nancy’s sudden appearance. Wasted breath, he thought. Adam had been murdered here, at work. It seemed likely that whoever killed him done so because of trouble on the job. Fred was probably looking at the killer right now. He just hoped Enos had the good sense to reach the same conclusion.
Pausing mid-step, he studied the Mustang on one side of his Buick, then the Celebrity, and wondered whether either car had belonged to Adam. If so, the car might contain some kind of clue as to what had happened here last night. Someone ought to check it out, but Grady and Enos would never listen to the suggestion if it came from Fred. It might not hurt to have a look himself, just to see what he could find.
Glancing around cautiously to make sure he hadn’t attracted attention, he headed to the Mustang and looked in the driver’s side window. A light jacket that looked like the one Adam had worn the night before had been tossed across the passenger’s seat, two pairs of men’s shoes were strewn on the floor. A duffle bag full of clothes gaped open on the back seat. If it was Adam’s car, it didn’t appear likely to divulge any secrets. On the other hand, if it belonged to someone else—
He mulled over his options and possible ways of finding out when a woman’s voice cut into his thoughts. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He jerked back around to see Charlotte Isaacson marching across the parking lot toward him. She didn’t look happy.
Stepping away from the cars, he met her with a smile. “Morning, Charlotte.”
She didn’t return the greeting.
He let his smile fade. “I wonder if you know whose car this is.”
She folded her arms across her chest and firmed up her stance. “Why?”
“I think one of the tires is a little low,” he lied.
She looked at the tires and frowned back up at him. “They look fine to me.”
“Well, they might be,” he conceded skeptically, “but I probably ought to point it out to the owner—”
Her mouth tightened into an unhappy line. “Those tires are just fine.”
“Is it your car?”
Her gaze held steady. “No.”
He patted the car’s side and looked meaningfully at the front tire. “Is it Adam’s?”
“Does it matter?”
He didn’t remember her as being such an unfriendly woman. “Only if the tires are a problem. Do you know who owns the red car over there?”
She smirked. “Why? Does it have a flat tire, too?”
“No. Do you know whose it is?”
The smirk slipped. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m a curious old man.”
She folded her arms a little tighter and glared at him, but after a long hesitation, she said, “It’s mine.”
“Why are you parked clear over there? Who was in this spot when you got here this morning?”
Narrowing her eyes, she pulled back as if she needed distance to see him clearly and shrugged one thin shoulder. “Nobody was parked there, and it wasn’t a conscious decision on my part to park there.”
“Nobody was parked here when you arrived?”
“No.” She looked a little irritated with him. “Look, Mr. Vickery, when I got here this morning the building was locked and the parking lot was empty—except for Adam’s car. I didn’t see, hear or smell anybody else around.”
“So, you were the first one here?”
“Yes.”
“What time did you arrive?”
“Just after seven-thirty.”
That seemed awfully early to Fred. “What is it you do here?”
“I’m a chemist.”
“You knew Adam fairly well, then?”
“We were good friends.” Tears filled her eyes again and she tried in vain to blink them away.
“I’m sorry. I know this must be hard on you.”
She didn’t respond, only lowered her eyes.
“You must have a key to the building,” he said when he figured enough time had passed for her to pull herself back together.
Her gaze snapped back up to meet his. “Of course I do, but I’m not the only person with one.”
“Who else has a key?”
She put her hands on her narrow hips and ran a look over him from head to toe. “You know, I don’t think any of this is your concern.”
Of course it was his concern. Anything that touched his family concerned him. But rapid footsteps behind them stopped Fred from responding.
Charlotte’s dumpy companion joined them, a troubled look marred his features. “Are you okay, Char?”
She sent him a quick, reassuring smile. “Yes, thanks. Mr. Vickery’s concerned about my car.”
After studying Fred for a second, the man offered his hand. “Mitch Hancock. What’s your connection with Adam?”
“He was married to my niece, Nancy. And you? Are you a friend of Adam’s? A co-worker?”
“Yeah. Both, I guess. God, this is a horrible business. I can’t believe it.”
“Then you work here at EnviroSampl, too?”
“Yep. In the lab with Charlotte. We’re the ones who run the tests on the samples Adam collected.” He turned back toward Charlotte and jerked his head toward the man in the suit. “I thought I’d better come and get you. It seems our black friend’s getting impatient again.”
With a heavy sigh, she looked over her shoulder and when she faced them again her eyes had grown cold. “I wish Roy had shown up after the sheriff got here. They’d have sent him away, and I wouldn’t have to entertain him.”
Mitch shot a look toward the other man. “Well, I’m not going to make this easier on him. As far as I’m concerned—”
Charlotte touched her fingertips to his lips. “Yes, Mitch. I know. I’ll do it.” And with only a vague smile in Fred’s direction, she hurried away.
Fred expected Mitch to follow. Instead, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels as he stared after her. “Poor thing. I don’t know why she’s taking Adam’s death so hard.”
“Had they worked together very long?”
“Longer than I’ve been here.”
“And how long have you been here?”
“About two years.”
Long enough to become close friends—or to grow to hate one another. Fred watched Charlotte reach the crowd of coworkers, take their impatient friend by the arm, and steer him a few steps away from the others. “Who is that man?” he asked.
“The black guy?” Mitch cut a glance at the man in question. “His name’s Roy Dennington. Why?”
“Just curious. I take it you don’t like him?”
Mitch smiled. “I don’t really know him.”
“Oh? He doesn’t work here?”
Mitch shook his head. “To tell the truth, I don’t know what the hell he’s doing here. I had no idea Adam even knew him.”
That got Fred’s attention. “You know him, though. What does he do?”
“I know of him,” Mitch clarified. “From what I hear, he’s a big shot land developer out of some place in the Midwest.”
Fred’s heart dropped. With miles of unspoiled forest and a handful of clear mountain lakes surrounding them, the threat of development always loomed in the background, but that didn’t stop Fred from hoping for the best. He hated the idea of losing the place he loved to condominiums and ski runs, retail stores and trendy places to eat. As far as he was concerned, a developer in the vicinity meant trouble. “Has he been in the area long?”
“I couldn’t say. I’ve seen his name around, but I met him for the first time today.”
Fred wondered if Dennington had something to do with Adam
’s death. Was that why he seemed so impatient? He watched the man talking to Charlotte for a moment then asked “Is it unusual for someone like Mr. Dennington to show up here?”
Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know. I work in the back, so I don’t see what goes on. He says he had an appointment with Adam at eight, so I guess he did, but I don’t know why he would. We’re supposed to be impartial in what we do. We’re never supposed to meet with a prospective purchaser. And to have an appointment outside normal business hours— Well, you gotta admit it looks bad.”
Fred wasn’t ready to admit anything of the sort. “What time did you get here this morning?”
To Fred’s surprise, Mitch laughed. “Me? A few minutes before eight, I guess. I promised Adam I’d be here early to get him the results of some samples I was testing, but—” He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “I spent the weekend with a lady friend. I had a little trouble getting away this morning.”
Fred made a mental note that Mitch considered himself some kind of Don Juan before asking, “When did Roy Dennington arrive? Before or after you got here?”
“After. Maybe five or ten minutes after me. I don’t know for sure, but I know it was early. We don’t even open the doors until nine. Charlotte had already called the sheriff’s department by the time I pulled in, but they hadn’t showed up yet.” He stiffened suddenly at something he saw over Fred’s shoulder and muttered, “Oh, great. Look, tell the cops when they ask that I didn’t tell you anything. I don’t want to end up in the hot seat.”
Fred followed his gaze and saw Enos at the door with Nancy at his side. He lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave, but Enos just glared back.
Mitch gave an embarrassed laugh. “He’s not going to be happy with me for shooting my mouth off. He warned us not to talk about anything until he’s questioned each of us.”
“I don’t remember you saying anything that he could find offensive.”
Mitch smiled. “Let’s both stick to that story,” he said and walked away before Fred could respond.
Enos had already started toward them, bearing down on Fred like a heat-seeking missile. He passed Mitch on the way, but he was so busy glaring at Fred, he didn’t even acknowledge the other man.