"How old is little Bobby now?”
"I think he's 12 or 13. He's big for his age.”
I shared a look with Jack, then said, "I'm sure he wasn't happy about sitting on the bench either.”
"No, he wasn't." She started putting all the pieces together. "You don't think he did this, do you?"
"Right now, we’re keeping open to all possibilities.”
I didn’t want to think about the possibility of a 13-year-old killing someone, but it wasn't unheard of. Not in this day and age.
“I mean, I feel bad for the kid. His mother died a few years ago, and Ken is raising Bobby on his own.” She gave a sympathetic frown.
"How was your relationship with your husband?" I asked in as casual a voice as I could muster.
Dana looked a little confused. "It was great. Why?"
"Just standard questions. I have to ask.”
She nodded.
“No extramarital affairs?”
She tucked her chin, and her eyes widened. "Not on my end, I can assure you of that!" Dana shook her head. "Ray wouldn’t do something like that either. He was loyal to afault. We loved each other, Deputy. I'm not sure how I'm going to move forward without him. How am I gonna break this news to the kids?” She teared up again, and her throat tightened. “They're going to be devastated. They loved their father.”
She sobbed and wiped her eyes.
"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you and them." Then I added, "Have you been here at the house all night?”
She nodded.
"What about friends?" I asked. “Anyone who might have additional insight into Ray's life? Things he might not have told you.”
She looked a little offended by that. "Ray and I told each other everything. We didn’t keep any secrets from each other.” Then she admitted, “But you should talk to Wade. That was his best friend.”
I gave her a card, and she sent me contact information. I offered our condolences once again and thanked her for her cooperation. "We might have some additional questions for you. We’ll keep you posted as this develops.”
"Thank you. Please find the man, or boy, who did this.”
"We will do our best," I said.
We left and strolled the walkway to the van. We climbed inside, and JD said, “What do you think?”
"Right now, I think there's a good chance Bobby Boyd took his father's gun and put a bullet into the back of Ray's head. But I hope I'm wrong.”
Jack frowned and shook his head in dismay.
I fired up the engine, pulled away from the curb, and we set out to find Wade Norrington. He had a few more interesting things to tell us about Ken Boyd.
21
We caught up with Wade on his 32-foot sailboat in the Pirates’ Cove Marina. It was a nice older boat with a blue Bimini cover with solar panels on top, a stainless steel barbecue grill at the stern, and an updated navigation system. He kept the boat in tip-top shape.
It looked like we had woken him when he poked his head out of the salon. Wade looked at us with sleepy eyes. "What's going on? Is there some kind of problem?"
"I'm afraid we've got bad news," I said.
I told him about Ray, and Wade's face tightened with sorrow and confusion. "What happened?”
