“On my way back.” Reed engaged the Jeep’s engine and drove out of the parking lot.
“Find out much?”
“Some.” He filled Sol in on what he’d learned about Billy Huber’s homicide, how brutal and intentional it had been.
“Slicing his throat wasn’t enough.”
“Apparently not.” Reed slid down the visor as sunlight was bouncing off the road. “Did you visit the crime scene?”
“I did. Early this morning.”
“See anything?”
“Just got a feel for the place.”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see him. He knew Sol liked to visit a crime scene on her own, without any distractions.
She continued, “When I got into the office, I spoke with some of the deputies who interviewed Huber’s neighbors and family members. None of the neighbors saw or heard anything out of the ordinary, and they agreed with his brothers that Huber kept to himself. When they dealt with him, it wasn’t pleasant. None of them seemed all that broken up that he was dead. The neighbor to the west, just beyond a stretch of woods, Otis Childers, was in a legal battle withHuber a while back. Lawsuit over a fence, but it was dealt with. Huber moved the fence, and Childers claimed Huber was a—and I quote—‘nutjob,’ who had come onto his property and stolen some farm equipment. Huber denied it, and when Childers went over in his pickup to confront him, Huber came out with pistol and threatened to kill him.” She paused. “That didn’t go over so well, but Childers backed off.”
“And saw nothing on the night he died.”
“Right. The other neighbors were Duke and Frances Wheelan. They, too, claimed Huber wasn’t friendly. Apparently, they caught him trying to poach deer and boars off their property, despite warning him to stay away. Wheelan sued him, but the suit went nowhere, as in court Huber insisted Wheelan was the one who had poached on his property. The judge threw the whole thing out. But despite Wheelan putting up NO TRESPASSING signs, Huber kept ignoring them and crossing onto Wheelan’s property whenever he pleased.”
“So Billy Huber was the neighbor they all loved.”
“Yep. The kind you’d want to invite to a party,” she answered ironically.
“So what about Huber’s family? You said you talked to them?”
“Didn’t get much more than I told ya. Again, no one seemed all that grief-stricken about his passing. The daughter, ah … Janelle McGowan lives in Florida now, Jacksonville. She reluctantly agreed to come and ID the body, but she wasn’t keen on it. Didn’t say much, but I got the feeling she’d rather spit on his grave than leave any roses on it. No love lost there. And she’s his only kid. He had a son who died right after birth, and his wife has been dead for around eight years.”
“Siblings? Parents?”
“Parents are both dead. Natural causes. First the father, then the mother a few years later. He’s got a couple of brothers, one older, one younger. I talked to them on the phone. Neither unhappy or surprised that he died or that someone killed him, which was odd. The older brother, Terence—he lives in Plano, Texas, by the way—he didn’t say much. Quiet, I guess. But not shocked that someone killed his brother. His comment was, ‘So Billy finally pissed the wrong guy off, eh?’”
“What about the other brother?”
“A couple of years younger. Billy was the middle child. So, uh—Robert, he goes by Bobby—he really went off when I brought Billy up. Didn’t seem bothered at all that his brother was dead or had been killed for that matter. From what I got out of it, Bobby loaned Billy ten thousand dollars about the time Billy’s wife, Linda-Sue, died, around eight years ago. Bobby had to take money out of his retirement account, pay taxes on it, and he swears he’s never seen a dime back. Resents it. There’s bad blood there, let me tell you. Bobby claims he’s gonna sue the estate if Billy didn’t, in his words, ‘Have the decency to leave him the value of the loan with interest.’”
“Did Billy have a will?”
“We’re still lookin’.”
“What about life insurance?”
“Unknown,” Augustin said. “But, again, we’re looking into it.”
“Good. We need to know who profits from Billy Huber’s death.”
“On it,” Augustin assured him.
They talked a bit more, and by the time they broke the connection, Reed was within the Savannah city limits and driving past Forsyth Park, busy now with people jogging or walking. Women were pushing strollers, and young couples walked hand in hand as they strolled on sun-dappled sidewalks beneath live oaks draped with Spanish moss. He glanced at the majestic fountain, newly restored, its spray glinting in the sunlight.
At the station, he parked in the lot, his thoughts still filled with the homicide. Who held such a deep-seated grudge against Billy Huber that they wanted his death to be brutal? Everyone who knew Billy seemed to have a reason to dislike him. But had someone’s hatred been so deep that it would propel him to murder and to kill with such savagery?
Nikki’s stomach rumbled. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was already after two. She was about to call her sister and check in on Chloe when she received another text from Lily:
The girls wanted to go to Leopold’s. I thought, “Why not?” After lunch with Mom, we all need to pamper ourselves. Since a spa treatment and double margarita weren’t possible, ice cream and some time in the park was the next best thing. Be home in an hour or so.
