Dark Waters (21 page)

‘Well, ma'am, it's an ongoing investigation, so new questions keep coming up,' Emmett said, realizing she had legs about seven miles long and shapely to boot. He tried looking elsewhere, and settled on her face.

‘Such as?' she asked, lips pursed, back ramrod straight.

‘Such as, do you know any of Mr Hunt's wife's family who live here in Longbranch?'

‘No! Why would I?'

‘I don't know that you would, ma'am. I'm just asking. His daughter's a school teacher, perhaps you've met her?'

‘Didn't I just say I hadn't?'

‘I suppose you did,' Emmett said, wishing he'd thought a little bit longer about things before he'd hightailed it over here. ‘Did Mr Hunt ever talk to you about them?'

‘Only to say they all hated him. Had since he and Cheryl were kids! He said Cheryl fell down one time and broke her nose, and they blamed him for it. So every time she got a boo-boo, she'd say it was him!'

Emmett felt his hands tightening on the clipboard in his hand. ‘You wanna see the pictures of her the last time she got out of the hospital?' he said through clinched teeth.

‘Ha!' Reba Sinclair said. ‘He told me she faked some photos! She was very devious.'

‘But he didn't deny killing her?' Emmett asked.

‘The poor baby just had more than he could take! All the things she was saying about him, the way the family acted and the lies they told! And then taking his little girl away from him! It looked like the judge was going to grant Cheryl total custody – with Darby only getting
supervised
visitation! Now how would you take that, Deputy? Would you just sit still for that type of injustice or would you perhaps go just a little bit nuts and act out?' She squared her shoulders and looked off into the distance. ‘That's what happened to my Darby. He said he just lost it. Didn't even know he'd done it until it was all over. He said it was like watching someone else doing that, not him.'

Jeez, Emmett thought, how many times had he heard that one? And the thing was, sometimes it was true. Didn't make the perpetrator any less guilty, though. But this time? With Darby Hunt? Naw, he knew exactly what he was doing – just like every other time he hurt her.

Well, he thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. ‘Ma'am, I'm just wondering if maybe when he got out, you two got together and he wasn't the man you thought he was—'

‘I haven't even seen him yet, Deputy!' she said in a high, loud voice. ‘I sent him those presents and he was going to come see me, tonight, as a matter of fact. Tonight we would have consummated our eighteen-month love affair.' She put her face in her hands and began to sob.

Emmett didn't truck with bawling women, so he excused himself and headed back to the shop. Wondering if he actually believed her – or anyone else in this case, truth be known.

Once back at his – Milt's – desk, he picked up the phone and called the state police, asking for the whereabouts of Steve McDaniel, Dave McDaniel's oldest son who used to work for Emmett at the police department in Longbranch. After a bit of a runaround, he was finally put through to Steve.

‘Goddam,' Steve said, ‘is this really Emmett Hopkins of Longbranch, Oklahoma?'

‘In the flesh,' Emmett said, then, ‘well, maybe not the flesh, but it's my voice.'

‘Getting too literal for me, Emmett. How the hell are you? Calling about Darby Hunt, I betcha,' Steve said.

‘I'm fine. And, yeah, I'm calling about Darby Hunt.'

‘I didn't kill him,' Steve said. ‘If I coulda guaranteed I'd never get caught, I'da done it in a heartbeat, but can't get any guarantees on murdering somebody. Even somebody as evil as Darby Hunt.'

‘You think somebody in your family did it?' Emmett asked.

Steve hooted with laughter. ‘Jeez, Emmett, what a question! If I did, you think I'd tell you? No, I don't think somebody in my family did it, and you wanna know why?'

‘Why?' Emmett asked.

‘'Cause nobody in my family is that stupid. That asshole gets killed, and who're the first people you look at? My family, that's who!'

‘Your cousin Malcolm didn't seem all that bright,' Emmett offered.

‘Malcolm? Shit, Emmett, he's a little light in the loafers, but there's not a mean bone in that boy's body. He's a good kid with a homophobe for a dad. Don't make him out to be a murderer, for God's sake! Actually, he's the least likely in my family to do it, and I don't believe we're living an Agatha Christie novel here,' Steve said.

‘Huh?'

‘Don't you read? Agatha Christie, the great English mystery writer? It was always the least likely suspect who did it.' He sighed at Emmett's ignorance. ‘Anyway, Malcolm didn't do it.'

‘OK, who's the most likely suspect?' Emmett asked.

‘Well, me, of course!' Steve laughed. ‘Look, Emmett, it's been a blast talking to you and all, but I got a shit-pile of work here. Good luck. When you find the hero who did this, let's pin a medal on him, OK?' And with that, he hung up.

Dalton needed to go do a security check at the little mall in Jasper. One of the stores' alarms had gone off in the middle of the night but when Anthony had responded to the alarm (he'd been on-call), nothing was out of the way. Emmett told Anthony to go on home and that he'd have it checked out the next day. Well, today was the next day and Dalton was the one doing the checking. He wasn't crazy about this particular chore, since he wasn't that up on electronic things, but he'd do it, and stay on it until it was done right, even if it took a day or two.

Once at the mall – a square of shops opening on to an open-air courtyard with a fountain, with parking at the back of the stores – the first thing Dalton saw was a jewelry store. With that incentive, he was able to fix the problem with the alarm in less than an hour, and five minutes later was standing in front of a cabinet full of engagement rings.

‘She's got real small hands,' Dalton said in answer to the clerk's question of what size his soon-to-be fiancée wore. Dalton looked at the ring of ring sizes, comparing them to his own large hand. He'd looked at her fingers entwined with his enough to know exactly what size they were. He picked it out first try. Then the clerk, a woman even older than his mother, wanted to know what size diamond.

‘Well, I want it big enough to show off, but not so big it looks showy, you know?'

‘How's this?' the clerk asked, holding up a one-and-a-half-karat pear-shaped solitaire already set in a gold band. ‘Very traditional,' she said.

Dalton peaked at the price tag. ‘Maybe a one karat, forget about the half?' he suggested to the clerk. ‘She's not traditional, and she doesn't wear a lot of gold. Mostly she wears silver.'

‘How about this?' the clerk said, pulling out a baguette one karat. ‘This is platinum rather than silver, but they match in color.'

It was really beautiful, Dalton thought, but it just wasn't Holly. And then he saw it. It was in another case, the one next to the engagement rings. ‘That one!' he said.

The clerk raised her eyebrows. ‘This one?' she said, going to the next display case and opening it. She put her hand on the ring and Dalton nodded. ‘Son, this isn't a traditional engagement ring—'

‘Holly's not traditional,' he said, smiling at the clerk. ‘She's one of a kind.'

The clerk smiled back. ‘Well, so is this ring. It was made by the owner's son and it's been in that display cabinet for five years.' She brought it out and handed it to Dalton. Pointing out each facet, she said, ‘The center stone is a two-karat ruby, and the surrounding stones are emeralds and diamonds, with opals and other precious stones.'

The stones were in a mound shape, with smaller stones cascading down the silver band. ‘This is it,' he said.

The clerk told him a number, and he didn't even flinch. The number was higher than the one-and-a-half-karat diamond, but it didn't matter. This was the one.

C
hief Heinrich had Lance Turner taken down to the medical facility and put in the one locker they had for a possible dead body. Unfortunately he had to share accommodations with Josh Weaver. Jean and Lucy went to get the kids from the children's pavilion. Lucy had volunteered to take Lyssa to their cabin with Janna, while Jean had volunteered to take Rose's youngest, Jacob to our cabin with Johnny Mac and Early so that Rose could go to Esther's cabin with her. Esther was pretty broken up.

I went with Heinrich to interview Esther, and it wasn't pretty.

‘I'm so sorry to bother you at a time like this,' Heinrich said to a still-sobbing Esther, ‘but we need to talk.'

Esther used half a box of Kleenex to stop the flow, hiccupped a few times and finally said, ‘Whatever.'

Rose sat beside her, her arm around Esther's shoulders.

‘Did you see anyone put anything in Mr Turner's glass?' Heinrich asked.

Esther shook her head.

‘Was there anyone in a position to do so?' he asked.

She shrugged. ‘Me, I guess, and Crystal on the other side of him. She was flirting with him something fierce!' she said, lifting her face up to glare at the chief. ‘She probably did it because he wanted to be with me and not her!' Which brought on the sobs again. Then she turned on me. ‘And your wife! She could have saved him if she tried! She didn't even try! What kind of doctor is she anyway? Not to even try!'

I started to speak in my lady's defense, but Heinrich put a staying hand on my arm and said, ‘When Doctor Kovak' (not what she goes by, but I let it slide), ‘smelled the cyanide on Mr Turner's breath, she knew CPR would do no good. Actually, it could have done harm to her – if the poison was on his lips, she could have been poisoned herself. But there would be no way of reviving him from this poison. Do you understand, Mrs Monte?'

Esther gulped in air, steadied herself and said, ‘It's Ms Monte. And no, I don't understand. Why would someone do this? What did he ever do to anyone to merit this? He was such a nice guy! You know how hard it is to find a nice guy nowadays? Impossible! Right, Rose?'

Rose just patted her back.

‘What did you know about him, Ms Monte?' Heinrich asked.

‘Oh, hell, call me Esther. It's easier.' She shrugged and was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I don't know. Not much, I guess. He was from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, he said. Never married. Said he was an engineer.' Again she shrugged. She looked up at Heinrich. ‘I guess that's not much, huh?'

‘It's a start, Esther. Thank you,' Heinrich said, standing up. I followed suit.

As we headed toward the door, Esther said, ‘Milt, I'm sorry for what I said about Jean. I didn't even know she was a doctor until she said it when – when . . .'

‘No problem, Esther. You get some rest,' I said, and Heinrich and I headed out and back down to the security suite.

He gave Clive Lance Turner's name, his hometown of Baton Rouge, and asked him to do a computer search for next of kin. Then we went in Heinrich's office and took our usual spots.

‘So what do you think?' Heinrich asked me.

‘Well, I think Turner's dead and somebody killed him, and if this isn't connected to Josh Weaver's murder I'll eat my hat.'

Heinrich's eyebrows rose. ‘You don't wear a hat,' he said.

‘It's an expression,' I said. ‘It means I'm pretty sure this is connected to Josh Weaver's murder.'

‘Ah. Yes, as do I. Do you suspect Ms Monte?'

‘Esther?' I thought about it then shook my head. ‘Naw. Can't see it. I don't think she had anything invested in this guy. I think she's more upset by being that close to a murder victim than it being a guy she may or may not have been sleeping with.'

Again the eyebrows. ‘You don't think she was sleeping with him?' he asked.

‘Well, kinda hard when you got a little girl with you. And as I understand it, they've got just one of the small cabins.'

‘But Turner, I'm sure, had his own cabin.'

‘Yeah,' I agreed, ‘but that would mean leaving her daughter alone late at night.'

Heinrich gave me a condescending smile. ‘It has been known to happen aboard ship, my friend. Often and with gusto.'

I could feel myself turning red. I don't think of myself as naïve, but I think I just came off that way. I'll admit I was a little embarrassed. In an attempt to save face, I said, ‘Well, whatever, but I still don't see Esther as our bad guy. If we go with the theory that Turner's and Josh's deaths are linked, why in the world would Esther kill Josh?'

‘Because she found out before we told her that he had been tricking her daughter into stealing,' Heinrich said.

‘OK, well, write down her name on our suspect list—'

‘Do we have a suspect list?' Heinrich asked, sitting up in his chair.

‘Well, if you haven't started one I'd suggest you do so now,' I said.

It was his turn to turn red with embarrassment. I felt vindicated.

We were saved from any more one-upmanship by Clive coming in with a laptop. ‘Chief!' he said in his English accent. ‘I found a Lancelot Turner out of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA, who was an engineer. But, sir, he died in 2004.'

He turned the laptop around to show Heinrich and me. There was a picture of Lancelot Turner of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA, who was an engineer, and who died in 2004 – a fiftyish African American with a bright smile.

Johnny Mac's mom told the three boys, Johnny Mac, Early and little Jacob, Rose's son, that Jacob was staying with them because his mother was helping Lyssa's mother with something. They took the information at face value and went in the suite to play with the toys Johnny Mac and Early had brought with them on the ship. Johnny Mac and Early were getting a little tired of the same old toys, but they were all new to Jacob, who was happy as a clam and only needed the bigger boys to tell him what something did or how to make it do what it did. The bigger boys were happy to oblige.