Jack leaned forward. “Aren’t you two forgetting something?” There was no reply. “Cheryl’smother. If she’s the second skeleton, that is. From the sound of it, she slept with several men in town. Maybe she blackmailed one of them, then got greedy. Wanted more than they were willing to give and they got fed up.”
“Are you saying her death was her own fault?” Kate said. “Are you really going to blame thevictim? It’s more likely that one of the slimy bastards who took advantage of her financial problems got scared and did away with her.”
“Or that,” Jack said.
“You both make good points,” Sara said. “So where do you two think we should start?”
“With Cheryl,” Kate said.
“The mother, Verna,” Jack said. “Cheryl was so young that I believe she was collateral damage.”
“Beautiful young girl who was wanted by lots of boys and men but she told them no,” Sara said. “That must have generated a great deal of anger. Then there was Verna, who wasn’t saying no to any man who had a checkbook.”
“Or woman,” Jack said.
Kate rolled her eyes.
Sara stood up. “I need a notebook. We have to figure out what we know and what we need to find out.” She looked at Jack. “I want you to think back to your time with Cheryl. When you weren’t drooling over the girl and/or trying to mess up her work, who did she talk about? Didanyof those randy boys in high school interest her?”
“None of them,” he said.
“She only likedyou?” Kate said. “A gorgeous fifteen-year-old girl was only interested in an eleven-year-old boy who looked like an Italian castrato? And if you don’t know, that’s a—”
Jack put his hand up. “Don’t translate. I get it. Let me think about this. It was a while ago.”
“I’m going to change clothes,” Kate said.
“I’m going to get the photos,” Sara said.
“And I’m going to enjoy the quiet,” Jack said.
SIX
Kate woke the next day but she didn’t get out of bed. The sun was peeping through the white plantation shutters in little gold slivers. She was inFlorida! The state that late-night talk-show hosts liked to ridicule, but people dreamed of going to. Palm trees and alligators, lots of Cuban cheek kissing, people who’d never seen snow.
She could hear voices in the house, so the others were up and about—and she wanted to see them. She was still marveling at her aunt Sara. Not at all as she’d expected! And Jack... Laughter and tears. Far from boring.
When she heard a pan clatter, she got up. Last night Tayla had sent an email saying that the reporters were still surrounding the office. She thought it would be better if Kate stayed away until after Tuesday, when this matter would be closed.
They’d been looking at Sara’s excellent photos on the giant TV and had taped some photos on the walls. Kate read the email aloud.
“Ask her why the hell she thinks it’s going to end by Tuesday.” Sara’s harsh tone made Kate blink in surprise.
Kate sent an email to ask Tayla if she’d heard anything about the case closing. The reply came right away. Tayla said that the sheriff had decided to bury the skeletons at 10:00 a.m. on Tuesday. She said there would be a short service at the grave site and anyone who wanted to attend could. The two women would be buried at county expense.
The date of “closure” seemed to be proof that there was going to be no further investigation into the murders.
Kate replied to Tayla that she’d be there Wednesday morning, then clicked off her phone. The news had seemed to take the heart out of all three of them. They’d turned off the TV and separated to go to bed.
As Kate dressed in leggings and a tunic this morning, she remembered that they’d declared they were going to investigate the murders. Buthow? Where did a person start? The only police files they had—and all they were likely to get—just about declared that the late Roy Wyatt had killed the women. And that he was a hero who had been defending his young son.
Kate took a few minutes to look at the suite of rooms Aunt Sara had put her in. Her clothes didn’t fill even a quarter of one of the two closets. Her bed had a linen headboard, and the sheets and pillowcases were Porthault. The living room was divine, all blue and white, with silver accents. After last night she knew that the pictures on the walls were Sara’s photos. Kate’s favorite was a sunrise over temples. It must have been taken from a hot air balloon.
She opened the doors into the house. Jack was sitting on a bar stool and eating breakfast, while Sara was moving about the kitchen. The smell of bacon was delicious.
“Good morning,” Sara said. “Want some eggs?”
“Sure,” Kate said. “Anything I can do to help?”
