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“Then I went to see Alyssa. My little girl was all I had left.”
Amanda allowed him time to collect himself, while she, too, did a little collecting of her own emotions. “Would you like some water?” she asked.
Judson shook his head.
Amanda continued, “These men that Margaret ‘ran’ with. Did you know any of them? Do you remember their names? Do you know if any of them are alive today?”
Again Judson shook his head, but the motion had grown tighter, as if the strain he was under had sharply increased.
“It would help if you could come up with a name or two, Granddad. What about that summer? Was there anyone special?” Liza had already told Amanda about the man Rose Atkins had remembered shortly before she died. Rose had been invited to a few of Margaret’s parties, as she was one of the few people in Tyler Margaret liked. Liza had shown the old woman some of the photos she had found in the attic at Timberlake Lodge, and Rose had recognized one of the men. They were very close, Liza had reported Rose saying. He was probably her lover. “Does the name Roddy mean anything to you, Granddad?” Amanda asked, probing his memory.
At that, Judson jerked to his feet. “That’s enough,” he clipped shortly. “I have to go to the plant. A meeting I forgot. We can do this some other time. Right now I have to—” He didn’t complete his sentence; his jaw clamped shut instead.
Amanda got slowly to her feet. They had barely begun their review. She needed much more detailed information. But it was evident that she wasn’t going to get it. Not right now, not after striking what was unmistakably a raw nerve. She shrugged. “Sure, Granddad. We can talk again later.”
“Good,” he said. Then he pivoted and walked stiffly from the room, leaving Amanda to stare after him in frustration.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_fcf82c5c-27d1-574d-ad26-5afb322a860f)
WHEN ETHAN OPENED the front door of Marge’s Diner, the hum of cheerful conversation mingled with the smell of hot coffee and cooking food. By the time he made his way to the counter, all conversation had stopped. Knowing himself to be the focus of attention, he hitched a seat on one of the red-topped stools, helped himself to a menu propped next to the salt and pepper shakers and frowned down at his choices for a late lunch. It was always like this when he came to a new town on a prosecution. He was the outsider, the stranger. As with a gunslinging lawman of old, people were both in awe of him and afraid. But Ethan was accustomed to being the outsider. It didn’t bother him. Slowly conversation resumed, though at a much more subdued level.
Minutes later, the door opened again and Carlos entered the establishment. When he spotted Ethan, he came to his side and took a seat. Ethan handed him a menu.
“What’ve you come up with?” Ethan asked.
“Typical stuff. The lady at the post office seems to be the gossip maven. And there is a kid—a Lars Travis—about fifteen, who delivers bits and pieces of rumors along with the local newspaper. I talked with the lady, but the kid is in school.”
“What did the lady say?”
Carlos dropped the menu and fished in his pocket for a notebook. Referring to it occasionally, he said, “A number of people in town think Judson Ingalls did the dirty deed. Most of the same number think Margaret deserved it. She did not fit in here—she was a big-city girl from Chicago who scandalized everyone with her behavior. Judson was thought to be getting the short end of the stick. He was a local war hero, not that anyone remembers much about what he did in the war. After Margaret ‘left,’ Judson raised his daughter, Alyssa, on his own. Ingalls F and M, the family business, has been an important part of the community almost since its inception. It employs a substantial number of the people in and around Tyler. Mr. Ingalls is very active in community affairs. He supports the local high school sports teams, especially the Titans, the football team. His daughter is on the town council and every other committee Annabelle Scanlon—she is the postmistress—can think of.” Carlos paused. “I sense resentment there. She is probably jealous. The Ingallses have always had most of the money in town and most of the class.”
He went back to his notes. “Alyssa Ingalls married one Ronald William Baron—who, incidentally, killed himself about ten years ago when his grain elevator business collapsed financially. The Barons had three children—Jeff, a doctor at the hospital here, Amanda and Liza, who seems to have taken after Grandmother Margaret and was quite a hell-raiser before she married. She shows up in a couple of our reports. She found the rug and turned over the bullet found in Margaret’s room at the lodge.”
Ethan nodded. He looked for the waitress. She was leaning against the far end of the counter, talking with a policeman. Ethan sensed that they were discussing him and Carlos, and he had the hunch confirmed when the policeman’s hard gaze met his. The waitress glanced at him, too, but she made no move to come take their order. Once again she started to talk with the policeman.
Carlos replaced the notebook in his pocket. “Everyone I talked to seems to think highly of Amanda Baron. She is liked, she is respected. I heard no word against her, not even from the postmistress.”
“We’d like some coffee down here, please,” Ethan called, his strong voice cutting into the waitress’s tête-à-tête.
Carlos smiled, amused by Ethan’s direct attack.
The policeman said something, causing the waitress to push away from the counter and come toward them. On the way she nonchalantly collected a full coffee beaker and two cups. After the cups were filled, she started to walk away again, but Ethan stopped her. “We’d also like to order.”
“Cook’s just stepped out,” the woman said, her middle-aged face set uncompromisingly.
Ethan glanced behind the serving counter into the kitchen. “Who’s that in the hat?” he asked.
A flush stole into the woman’s cheeks. By that time the policeman, dressed in the dark uniform of the Sugar Creek Sheriff’s Department, had ambled over. He was a compactly built six-footer with squared features and a no-nonsense edge that was tempered by a friendly smile.
“Serve the men, Marge,” he advised. “Two hamburgers don’t commit you to one side or the other. Judson will understand.”
Color still brightened the woman’s cheeks. “I’m loyal to my customers and my friends, Brick. Judson comes in here every day. And for these men to just barge in and act as if—”
“They’re just doing their job,” the policeman said. “You serve Karen and me when we come in...and we’re the ones who arrested him.”
“That’s different,” Marge claimed.
“No, it’s not.”
Marge looked at the policeman for a long moment, then at Ethan and Carlos. “All right,” she conceded grudgingly, “what do you want?”
Ethan glanced at Carlos, who gave a short nod. “Two burgers. One no onion, one no tomato.”
Marge moved away, leaving the policeman to introduce himself. “Lieutenant Brick Bauer of the Tyler substation,” he said, extending his hand. “I’ve heard you’ve been asking around town today.”
“News travels fast,” Ethan remarked.
“In most small towns it does, but especially in Tyler.” Brick glanced at the people sitting in booths and clinging to stools farther along the counter. He nodded whenever he caught an inquisitive eye. “You’re quite an object of speculation, Mr. Trask.”
“As you said, I’m just doing my job.” Ethan introduced Carlos, who, he saw, did a quick estimation of the policeman.
Brick Bauer sighed. “So are we all, so are we all...but it’s not a nice business sometimes.” He straightened, resting an arm on top of his holster flap as so many of his fellow officers did. “I expect you’ll be wanting to talk with me later?”
Ethan nodded. “We’ll call before we come.”
“Good. Then I’ll arrange to be in.”
With another nod, he ambled off. In no hurry, he paused to speak to people at two tables on the way out the door.
Ethan glanced at Carlos. “What do you think?” he asked.
“A fair man who can put loyalties aside when it comes to telling the truth. He will be a good witness.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
The two burgers were delivered with a clank of glass plate against hard counter. Marge didn’t wait around to ask if they needed anything else.
Ethan’s smile was wintry as he surveyed their meal. “Do you think we should really eat these?”
“We have not been poisoned yet,” Carlos said.
“There’s always a first time,” Ethan murmured, then he bit into the piping-hot burger and instantly decided it was the best he had had in years.
* * *
AMANDA TRIED to go back to the preparation of her brief, but she just couldn’t make herself concentrate. Who was this Roddy and why had her grandfather behaved so strangely at the mention of his name? Had the man been intimately involved with Margaret in the weeks before her death? What did her grandfather know about him?
She got up from her desk and went into the outer office. Tessie looked up from her computer keyboard. “I’m going out for a while, Tessie,” Amanda said. “Just around the square. If anyone needs me, I’ll be back in about—” she checked her watch “—half an hour. Not more than that. I need some fresh air.”
Her secretary nodded and went back to work.
The day was unusually warm for the latter part of September. Sunlight rained through the leaves of the huge old oak trees and onto the grassy square. Even the fall flowers, nicely kept in their beds, seemed to be especially colorful this day. It was as if Nature was giving everyone a second chance at summer before the frigid winds of winter came to call.
Amanda sat down on a wooden bench in one of the sunnier sections of the park and watched as a few young children played nearby. The upcoming trial was like the worst threat of winter to her: an impending time of darkness and cold. That is, if she were allowed to assume her rightful place at her grandfather’s side.
She sighed and, made sleepy by the unusual warmth, let her eyes shut. Mere seconds passed, however, before a huge shaggy dog came lumbering across the lawn to jump on her. “Samson!” Amanda laughed, snapping to attention as the friendly white dog continued to try to lick her cheek, her chin, her nose, her mouth.
“Samson, down!” Pam Kelsey called, hurrying to contain him. She made a grab for his collar. “Sorry, Amanda,” she apologized, once she had gained control. “He’s just been groomed and thinks he’s king of the hill.”
Amanda grinned as she rubbed a fluffy head. “That’s okay. I think he’s king of the hill, too. Any dog this sweet deserves a little spoiling.”
“Actually, we had to get him groomed today because he spent all of yesterday trying to dig his way out of the backyard. I don’t understand why he’s started to do it, but he has. He’s twelve years old. He should know better!”
“Maybe he’s lonely,” Amanda suggested. “You should get him a friend. No, seriously. With both you and Patrick at school all day, and then with you coaching the football team and Patrick helping you...Samson probably feels as if he’s lacking attention.”
“What kind of friend?” Pam asked carefully.
“Another dog. Preferably a female, neutered, of course. Unless you want to have puppies.”
“Good heavens.”
Amanda laughed. “Samson has a few good years left in him. He’s probably not ready yet to hang up his spurs in that department. He could still be a father.”
“Why not get another male and not have to worry about it?”
“Because introducing a male dog at this stage might make matters worse. They might not like each other.”
Pam tilted her head, her brown eyes curious. “How do you know so much about it?” she asked. Then she remembered. “Oh, that’s right. You once wanted to be a vet, didn’t you? Patrick told me.”
Amanda smiled wryly. “Right now, I wish I’d stuck with it.”
Pam’s pretty face lost its smile. “I heard that Ethan Trask and his assistant were asking questions around town today. I took off from school during my free period to collect Samson, and I ran into Annabelle outside the post office. She said a man named Carlos something-or-other had talked to her for almost an hour. So you know what that means...they now know almost everything there is to know about Tyler.”
“By the time this trial is through no one will have any secrets left.”
“Do you really think it will be that bad?”
Amanda looked at Pam and saw her genuine concern. Not for her own sake—Pam wasn’t involved. She hadn’t moved to Tyler until late last summer, around the time Margaret’s body had been found. She had no connection to the town’s past except through her marriage to Patrick Kelsey, the Kelseys having been in Tyler since its founding, just as long as the Ingallses had. Amanda shook her head. “No, I’m exaggerating. I’m feeling a little frustrated right now, so I’m acting theatrical.”
Pam reached out to clasp her arm. “If there’s any way Patrick and I can help, you just let us know. We don’t believe Judson could have done a thing like that. We may not be able to be in court with you because of our commitments at the school, but we’ll be with you in spirit. Tell Judson we support him, okay?”
“Okay,” Amanda agreed. Her spirits lifted just a little. Their family did have friends—the Kelseys, the Bauers...and there were others.
Samson woofed at Amanda, as if to say goodbye, then he jerked, ready to move away.
Laughing, Pam whipped out a leash and connected it in one smooth motion. “He got away from me earlier before I could get this on. I think he spotted you sitting here. Animals like you, don’t they?”
“Usually, yes,” Amanda admitted.
Pam’s brown eyes moved over her. “I think they trust you.”
Amanda shrugged. “They probably see a soft touch.”
“No, I think they sense something more. You’re a lot like your mother, Amanda. The same pure heart.”
Amanda wondered if Pam would still think that if she could see the photo of Ethan Trask in her office, the one with the dart sticking out of his nose.
* * *
ETHAN COUNTED OUT the correct amount tallied on the waitress’s check and added a few dollars more for a tip. Service hadn’t been exactly wonderful, but the woman had come back to refill their coffee cups. As they left the diner, he noticed that most of the same people who had been present upon his arrival remained. Their eyes followed him to the door. Once outside, he wondered whether, if either he or Carlos were to surprise them by opening the door again, they would all be talking at once about the same subject.
They walked to Ethan’s car, a sleek black luxury model that he had allowed himself. As he opened the driver’s door, he asked, “Did you find out anything about the ring?”
Carlos shook his head. “Nothing, my friend. No one knows anything about it.”
Ethan frowned as they settled into their seats. “Judson and Margaret were married in 1941. The ring found with the body is engraved 1941—at least, the segment we can read says that. It has to be his.”
“As far as anyone knows, Judson Ingalls never wore a ring.”
“Keep asking. You may turn up something with one of the older people you talk to. Someone who knew the two of them way back when.”
Ethan started the car and backed out of the parking slot onto the street.
“What about you?” Carlos asked when they pulled forward. “What did you learn?”
“That Judson Ingalls started talking seriously about selling Timberlake Lodge shortly after the body was found. And he sold it to the Addison Hotel Corporation for less than market value.”
“Was the buyer spooked because of the body?”
“Not according to the assistant manager. Addison would have gone higher, but Judson Ingalls didn’t ask it. I think he wanted the place off his conscience.”
“That would not make his troubles go away.”
“Out of sight, out of mind? Remember that painting of Margaret Ingalls in her bedroom? He didn’t ask for it, either. And years ago, after he’d ordered the room locked up, he moved to his house in town and never went back. The man’s pretty good at ignoring what’s unpleasant.”
“He cannot ignore a court date.”
“No.” Ethan smiled. “He can’t.”
Ethan looked away from the street for a second to glance at Carlos. The next thing he knew, Carlos was yelling for him to stop. Ethan’s reactions were quick. Without asking why, he jammed on the brakes and the car rocked to a halt. It was then he saw Amanda Baron. She was inches away from the front grill. She looked back at him, stunned.
Ethan expelled a long breath and made himself get out of the car. “Are you all right?” he asked, hurrying toward her.
Huge blue eyes looked up at him. “I know you want me off the case,” she whispered. “But I didn’t think you’d be willing to go this far.”
Ethan was in no mood for sarcasm, even if it sprang from shock. He answered stiffly, “I assure you, I’ve never yet had to resort to killing the competition.”
“Perhaps I should check your police record.”
