Dead Broke in Jarrett Creek: A Samuel Craddock Mystery (Samuel Craddock Mysteries) (28 page)

“Cookie told me. She should know; she works with both of them.”

There’s a sound at the front door, and Clara’s face relaxes subtly. She puts a finger to her lips and whispers, “He doesn’t like me to talk about this.”

Alan Dellmore kisses Clara and shakes hands with me. “Samuel, I suppose you’re here in connection with your investigation. Any news?”

“Not yet. I have a couple of banking questions I wanted to pass by you.”

Clara gets to her feet. “I’m going to make you some lunch, Alan. Samuel, can I fix you something, too?”

“I already had a bite to eat, but thank you.”

Dellmore watches his wife cross the room, and as soon as she’s gone, he says, “She’s doing okay, don’t you think?”

“Coping. That’s the best you can do right now.”

Dellmore takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I keep waiting to wake up and feel better, but until I know exactly who killed Gary and why, I won’t be able to move forward.”

“Alan, I had a talk with Cookie yesterday and I need to verify a couple of things.”

“If Cookie told you something, it’s going to be correct.”

“The problem is, she may not know the truth. This has to do with the water park project.”

“Yes. What a nightmare. But Cookie would know everything I know.”

“Were you aware that the company contracted to do the park was in financial trouble?”

If it’s possible for Dellmore to get any paler, he does. “No. But I assume you’re asking because you thought Gary knew. Is that right?”

“It looks like he and Slate McClusky conspired to get the water park deal through.”

“McClusky? What did he have to do with it? Gary told me McClusky was just a backer.”

I shake my head. “Liberty Water Park is his company.”

Alan closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his forehead. “I don’t understand. What did Gary stand to gain from this?” But even as he says it, his mouth drops open and I see understanding in his eyes. “They gave him a kickback. Is that it?”

“That’s what I’m assuming. It looks like they paid him off so he wouldn’t look too closely at the financial state of the company. Even the slightest investigation would have shown Gary that they were having financial problems and that they wouldn’t be able to go through with the project, no matter how good a loan they got. So it’s likely they bought him off to keep him quiet.”

Dellmore looks off into space. “Who told you this?”

“I had a couple of sources.”

He nods. “You’re not telling.”

“Does it matter?”

“Only if they aren’t telling the truth.”

“Right now the important thing is that it sounds like you were never a party to it.”

“No, I wasn’t. I tried to give Gary freedom to do business in the way he thought best. After all, at some point, he’d be taking over the bank. At least that was true until recently.”

“Had that changed?”

“I was beginning to realize that he was the wrong person for the job.”

“Did you ever suggest to Gary that you might not choose him to run the bank?”

“It wouldn’t be up to me anyway—it would be a board decision. Not that they wouldn’t have listened to me, but I had to admit to myself that I was less and less inclined to push the board in his direction.” He sighs. “A few months ago Gary and I fought about it. I suggested to him that it might be prudent for him to take it seriously, that the board had traditional ways of doing things and they may not name him to head the bank if they felt he didn’t have the bank’s best interest at heart.”

“He wouldn’t listen?”

Dellmore’s shoulders sag. “Gary said he didn’t plan to be a banker his whole life and he was working on a way to get into a different line of business. I never thought he was serious—I thought he was just being spiteful.” Dellmore has become agitated, but suddenly reality descends on him again. “Of course, this is all moot now.”

“Do you know what kind of business he meant?”

“No. Like I said, I thought he was just blowing off steam.”

“Your daughter doesn’t have any interest in the banking business?”

“Not at all. She’ll inherit my interest in the bank now, but she always made it clear that she wanted to be a wife and mother. And quite frankly, old-fashioned as I am, that was fine with me.”

I remember how broken up Annalise was at the service yesterday. “Gary and Annalise were close?”

“We were lucky. They got along well. Gary liked her husband, too.”

I see no need to divulge the details concerning how Darla Rodriguez, the McCluskys, and Gary Dellmore planned to hook Gabe LoPresto into buying McClusky’s resort. That will all come out eventually, and Alan and Clara will have to deal with the knowledge that their son was a crook, pure and simple.

I know now that Clara isn’t as fragile as she seems, and that she has a philosophy that will hold her up, although after our talk I wish I could spare her.

I’m getting used to the sound my cell phone makes when it goes off, so I reach for it easily in my jacket pocket. “Craddock.”

“Chief, it’s Bill Odum. I’ve got some news for you.”

“What news?” I’m driving to meet Angel at her place.

“After I talked to you this morning, I told my dad we needed that ballistics test. He called somebody to come help out, and we finished early so I could get the test done. I just finished up here at the college.”

I hear the smile in his voice. “And?”

“Like I said, it won’t stand up in court, but as far as I can tell, we’ve got a match on the gun.”

“I’m going to be talking to Slate, but I wanted to get your version of this apart from him.”

I’m standing in the living room with Angel, who has her arms crossed and is glaring at me. Camping out doesn’t suit her. Her eyes are bloodshot and her skin is pale, almost waxy. She’s dressed as usual in a Western shirt and tight jeans, but the shirt is buttoned all the way up and she’s wearing a sweater. The room is cold, as if they can’t even afford to keep the heat on. “What is it you want from me exactly?”

“You told me Slate didn’t know Gary Dellmore, but that wasn’t true. He had a lot of business dealings with Dellmore—including the water park deal.”

“I also told you that doesn’t mean they were friends. It was business.”

“Was it just business between you and Dellmore, too?”

“I hardly knew Gary either.” She looks at me with a steady gaze. It isn’t true that liars won’t meet your eyes.

“Come on, Angel. You were having an affair with him. How long had that been going on?”

She tries to laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Where did you hear that?”

“From a reliable source. Did it start before or after the water park deal?”

When she speaks her voice is coarser. “What are you, the morals police? It’s nobody’s business if I saw Gary.”

“It is if your husband found out and shot him.”

“That would never happen.” She paces to the window. With her back to me, she says, “Slate had a use for Gary. Trust me, as long as Slate can use somebody, he’ll get everything he can out of them. Anyway, I hope to God it wasn’t him that killed Gary.”

“Why is that?”

She wheels and takes a step toward me, a look of fierce hatred on her face. “Because if he did, I’ll have to kill him. Gary was the only thing keeping me going.”

“How long had you two been carrying on?”

Her eyes are blazing. “You make it sound like a cheap affair. But it wasn’t cheap. Gary treated me like I was valuable. He really loved me.” Almost exactly the same words Jessica Reinhardt used. Too bad Dellmore couldn’t have bottled that ability to make women feel special—everybody except his wife.

“Was he going to divorce his wife? Were you going to leave Slate?”

She whimpers, hugging her arms to her chest. “We were considering it. We knew it was going to make a big mess. We thought we had all the time in the world.”

“Had he told his wife?”

She wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Of course not! We were waiting for the right time before we told anybody.”

“Whose idea was it to try to get LoPresto to buy your resort?”

“That’s something you have to take up with Slate.”

As I drive home, I remember that Barbara said Gary stayed with her so he had an excuse not to get too involved with anyone. Had Dellmore finally found someone he wanted to leave Barbara for? Did he tell Barbara he wanted a divorce? Or was Angel Bright indulging in wishful thinking? And was she telling the truth that her husband wouldn’t care if she was having an affair?

Normally I would have called the Texas Rangers or the highway patrol to go out to the resort with me, but I want to get out there tonight, and they would’ve wanted to wait. Despite the fact that I warned Angel not to contact Slate and she promised she wouldn’t, by tomorrow morning she might’ve had second thoughts. She might have driven out to the resort to tell him I was onto him, and he might have disappeared. Zeke Dibble and I leave right after sundown. I bring sandwiches so we don’t have to stop to eat. I know Bill Odum would like to have been part of this, but I think Dibble is the better choice to come with me due to his experience.

I never had much occasion to talk to Dibble. The few times I’ve been around him, he seems happy just to be a backup, but I notice a subtle change in his voice tonight, more authority in it, like he’s remembering what it’s like to be a practicing lawman. I asked him if he was coming armed and he seemed surprised by the question. “Of course I am. I’ve got a Luger. That’s what they used in the Houston PD before I left, and they let me buy the one I carried because they were phasing them out.”

“Do you carry it all the time?”

“In my glove compartment. I do some target shooting once a month. I like to stay sharp.”

I’m glad I thought to bring bolt cutters, because the gate is still chained up. I cut the chain, open the gate, and drive through. It’s dark when I park the patrol car halfway up the road to the resort. Although it’s a moonless night like last night, I don’t feel the same sense of unease I did then.

There are two vehicles parked in front of the resort—Slate’s SUV and an old Ford pickup. I expect the pickup belongs to Harold. I didn’t see any sign of him last night when Odum and I were out here, but he may have been parked in the back. I don’t like the odds of two geezers like Dibble and me having to face two younger, stronger men, but it won’t be the first time I’ve had to work with bad odds. If words fail to do the job, Dibble and I have our guns and the element of surprise on our side.

I’ve worn my boots this time, and so has Dibble. No sneaking across the deck. Before I can knock, the door swings open. Harold McClusky stands in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.

“How did you get past the gate?”

“Is Slate here?”

“What do you want?”

“I need to discuss my business with him in person.”

“Harold, bring him in.”

“There’s two of them.”

“Then bring both of them in.” There’s a touch of impatience to Slate’s voice, and I hear him walk toward the door.

I step into the room.

“What can I do for you?” Slate tries for a smile, but his eyes follow my gaze around the bare room. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and his hair is sticking out as if he’s been running his hands through it.