Dark Waters (9 page)

‘OK, here's what we do,' Joshua said. ‘We go to where they are. Do we know where they are?'

‘In that bar right next to the comedy club,' Johnny Mac said.

‘OK. Good. That's not too far. Just keep your mouths shut and let me do the talking! Got that, Kovak?'

‘All right! Jeez!' Johnny Mac said, and fell into line next to Early as they headed out in twos toward the parents.

It's funny how people gravitate toward their own. It turned out that all of us were basically from the South – Jean, a native of Chicago, being odd woman out, but accepted as one of ‘us' for having lived in Oklahoma for over a decade. Mike and Lucy, along with the Weavers, were from Houston, Esther and her daughter were from Atlanta, and Rose and her family lived in Memphis.

We were sitting at the table in the bar, discussing our Southern roots, when I looked up and saw a rag-tag group of kids heading to our table. Unfortunately one of them was my son – another his pal Early. The boys were carrying their dress-up jackets, and the girls looked a little less put together – hair-wise – than they had earlier.

‘Hey, now,' I said, ‘we were coming to y'all!'

‘Sorry, Mr Kovak,' the big one – Vern Weaver's oldest son, I forgot his name – said. ‘They decided to shut down early. They usually close at ten o'clock, and this was an experiment staying open this late – one that I guess failed. We were the only ones there. We were having a good time, but they kicked us out!' he said and laughed. The other kids made disappointed faces or laughed along with him.

Mike and Lucy got up. ‘We need to be heading back anyway. Tomorrow we stop for a few hours in the Grand Caymans. We're definitely getting off,' Lucy said.

‘So are we.' Jean used her crutches to stand up. ‘I wonder if I can take the scooter off the ship?' she said to me.

‘I'll find out in the morning. Johnny Mac, Early, let's head back,' I said, gathering my boys.

While we stuck Jean's crutches in a slot that seemed made for them on the scooter, I noticed the only people still at our table were Esther Monte, her daughter Lyssa, who had her head in her mother's lap and appeared to be asleep, and the new guy, Lance Turner. You're on vacation, I told myself. And Esther's a big girl, she can handle herself. I sighed as Jean hopped aboard her scooter and we headed back to the cabin. The boys were asleep about the same time their heads hit their pillows, or maybe a little before.

Emmett took the names and addresses of the members of the McDaniel family home with him, so the next morning he called in to Holly at the sheriff's department.

‘Prophesy County Sheriff's Department,' Holly Humphries said upon answering the phone.

‘Hey, Holly, it's me,' he said.

‘Hey, Emmett, what's up?'

‘Gonna ask you the same question. Anything going on there I need to know about?'

‘No, sir. Nita's at the middle school doing that safety talk, Jasmine's on call here but Dalton called in early, left a message saying he'd be a little late. I heard about that guy, that Hunt, getting murdered last night! Awful!'

‘Yeah. Why I'm calling – I'm going to go interview his late wife's family members, see if they know anything about Darby Hunt's unfortunate accident.'

‘Yeah, I hate it when those bullets go accidentally flying through my front window,' she said.

‘I got my cell. Call me if you need me,' Emmett said.

‘Yes, sir. Try to be nice.'

‘When have you ever known me not to be nice?' Emmett asked.

Holly said, ‘I'm hanging up now,' and matched the deed to the words.

Lisa (née McDaniel) Atkins and her husband lived in a nice ranch-style house in an area inside the city limits of Longbranch. It was long and low, with a white-painted rail fence going around it, leaving the driveway open. Obviously not a privacy fence, or a fence to keep in a dog, because it accomplished little more than looking ranchy. Before he got out of his car, Emmett called Charlie Smith, police chief of Longbranch, to let him know he was in Charlie's territory and to see if he wanted in on any of the interviews he (Emmett) would be doing with members of the McDaniel family.

He got a clerk, asked for Charlie, told the clerk who he was and was put through pretty quick. Charlie always seemed slightly embarrassed to have the job Emmett had been kicked out of, but that had happened before Charlie's time. He'd been hired out of Oklahoma City and had nothing to do with the politics that had been going on three years before when Emmett had left. But Charlie's embarrassment might have been the reason he picked up on the first ring, which to Emmett's mind was not a bad thing. Let him be a little embarrassed.

‘Hey, Emmett!' Charlie said. ‘I hear you're acting sheriff with ol' Milt out of town. Heard anything from him?'

‘He likes the food,' Emmett answered. ‘And he denies they got shuffleboard.'

‘Well, I'm not believing that! He's probably won a shuffleboard trophy already and he's just embarrassed to tell you.'

Emmett laughed. ‘That's probably it.' Sobering, he got down to business. ‘Listen, Charlie, you heard about Darby Hunt?'

‘Sure did. Was gonna call you today, see if you needed any back-up on this.'

‘Thing is, I'm sitting outside the dead wife's sister's house right now. Wanted your permission to interview the family or, even better, get you in on the interviews.'

Emmett was lying through his teeth. He wanted permission, all right, but he certainly didn't want Charlie looking over his shoulder. Emmett liked to do his interviews solo.

‘You got my permission, but I'm afraid I'm hip-deep in alligators around here. Do you really need someone?'

‘Naw,' Emmett said, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘It's OK. Rather not wait out here anyway.'

‘Well, good luck, and if you need anything, give me a call,' Charlie said.

‘Will do,' Emmett said, and stepped out of the car.

The house was made of wood, stained to look like redwood, or maybe it was old enough to really
be
redwood, but he doubted it. There was a lion's head knocker on the front door and he used it. A woman in her mid- to late-forties opened the door. She was a pretty woman, with blonde hair turning silver in places, a bright smile, beautiful blue eyes and a slim build.

‘Yes?' she said on seeing him on her doorstep.

‘Mrs Atkins?'

‘Yes, and you are?'

He showed his badge and said, ‘I'm Chief Deputy Emmett Hopkins with the Prophesy County Sheriff's Department, ma'am, here in the role of acting sheriff. May I come in?'

The smile faded from her face. ‘If you're here to tell me that Darby Hunt is back in town, I already know. Sheriff Williams from Tejas County called me yesterday.'

‘No, ma'am, it's not that. May I come in?' he asked again.

She sighed. She was sort of dressed up, wearing what Jasmine called a ‘pencil' skirt, black, with a royal blue, silky-looking shirt and blue heels.

‘I need to get to work,' she said, her body language denying him entry.

‘It's important, Mrs Atkins.'

She sighed again and dropped her hand from the door. ‘All right,' she said.

The front door opened into a foyer. To the right was a dining room with Shaker-looking furniture, and to the left was a living room, well decorated but still comfortable-looking. Mrs Atkins took a seat on the sofa, her butt barely touching, indicating that he take what he could only assume was her husband's chair. It was a manly brown leather with a comfy butt spot all ready for him. He sat.

‘I
do
need to get to work,' she said.

‘Ma'am, could you tell me where you were last night?' Emmett asked.

Her eyes got big. ‘Excuse me?'

‘I need to know where you were last night around eight-thirty.'

‘I watch enough TV, Deputy, to know you're asking me for an alibi. Did Darby Hunt' – the name spoken as if the words were poison in her mouth – ‘accuse me of doing something?'

‘Could you please answer the question, ma'am?'

She raised her hands up in exasperation. ‘I was here, Deputy. With my husband, watching TV at that time of night. Then we went to bed a little after eleven. I like to watch Dave.'

‘Ma'am?' Emmett asked.

She sighed. ‘David Letterman,' she said, indicating his stupidity was equaled only by his desire to make her late to work.

‘And your husband can vouch for that?' Emmett asked.

‘Of course! Now what has that horrible man accused me of?' she demanded.

‘Nothing, ma'am. Darby Hunt was killed last night. Rifle through the front window of his mama's house.'

A grin broke out on Lisa McDaniel Atkins's face and she said, ‘Hot damn! About fucking time!' Then she covered her mouth and giggled. ‘Excuse my French, Deputy.'

‘No need, ma'am,' Emmett said. ‘Can you think of anyone who might want Mr Hunt dead?' he asked, already knowing the answer.

‘He doesn't deserve to be called “mister,”' she said. ‘Slime bucket, I feel, works best. As for anyone who might have wanted to kill him? Let me go get the phone book.'

Since she didn't get up, Emmett figured it was her way of joking at the deceased's expense.

‘Ma'am,' he said. ‘Could you answer my question, please?'

‘Other than my brothers and me?' She shrugged. ‘Well, my daddy, but he'd have to haunt the slime bucket to death, since he's been dead ten years now.' She teared up. ‘He never did get over losing Cheryl like that. Right in front of all of us. It killed my mama, too,' she said, looking Emmett in the eye. ‘Just downright killed her. Wasn't six months before she just keeled over dead. So that man didn't just kill my sister, he also killed my parents.' She stood up, her look showing she thought he should do the same, which Emmett did. ‘I don't even think God can forgive that man for what he's done, so I'm sure he's already in hell. I won't get out of my hell until I join my sister and parents.'

She walked to the front door, Emmett following. ‘As for who killed Darby Hunt, I don't know, and actually, Deputy, I really don't care. Except I'd like to pin a medal on him.'

‘Ma'am, before you throw me out, could you tell me please where I might find your sister Cheryl's daughter? Elizabeth, right? I can't find the name Elizabeth Hunt anywhere in Oklahoma.'

‘That's because her name isn't Elizabeth Hunt. My husband and I legally adopted her when she was eight. And she hated the name Elizabeth because she was named after Darby Hunt's mother. So she asked and we agreed that her first name be changed to Beth. She's a teacher at Longbranch High School.'

‘And your son?'

‘Jeez!' she said and heaved a huge, conspicuous sigh. ‘He has a small house over on Trinity Street.'

‘What's the number?' Emmett asked. He already knew – he just wanted to see what she'd say.

‘Look it up,' was her reply, and she shut the door in his face.

Shortly after deciding we were taking the tickets I won and informing the cruise line of their luck in having us, we were sent a brochure about the ship with two add-ins – one for our first stop – the Grand Caymans – and one for our second stop – San Juan, Puerto Rico. Each of these add-ons had lists of activities to be had in each port, how to go about booking said activity, and how much they cost. The activities in Georgetown, Grand Caymans, were such joys as scuba diving, horseback riding or jet skis. There were also hikes, tours on buses and walking tours, but the three of us – me, Jean and Johnny Mac – had narrowed it down to scuba diving, horseback riding or jet skis. Then we'd had Early for a sleepover, did a vote of those three, and ended up with jet skis. Personally, I was excited. I figured it would be like riding a motorcycle, except on water. What's not to like about that?

The next morning we woke up docked at Georgetown, Grand Caymans. Once off the ship we found an open-air three-wheel contraption – with a small trailer on the back – that would fit the four of us and Jean's scooter. We paid our guy a little extra and got a quick tour of the city. The island was beautiful. White beaches, green everywhere, and the perfect blue of the Caribbean. The city of Georgetown was an old city with lots of old buildings and rock walls and stuff. Real pretty. So we tooled around a bit, our driver telling us about this building and that, before we hit the jet-ski rental place. The add-on that came with the brochure said they had dressing rooms, so we'd brought along our swimsuits to change into, rather than wearing them from the boat. Not so bad for me and the boys, but for some reason women have a hard time going to pee, especially in a one-piece – at least, that's what Jean said. So we changed, then headed out to the jet skis. One of the guys took Jean's crutches and the one brace she still had on her left leg. The jet skis had hand controls, so she wouldn't need to use her legs, which I'd found out before we booked this activity. Early rode with me and Johnny Mac rode with Jean, and we were off. We stayed out for almost two hours, used up an entire bottle of sunscreen, and managed to have loads of fun. We fell off a couple of times – well, Early and I did. Jean and Johnny Mac, after flooding us with a giant wave, managed to stay on their skis. Still, by the time we turned them in we were all tired and a little sunburned. We showered – boys with me, Jean on her own – got dressed and met outside.

We'd agreed to meet up with the Tulias and the Weavers in town for lunch, and headed to a meeting place. It was a chain restaurant that we even had back in Oklahoma. Personally, I would have picked a local place. I was getting a little adventurous with grub. But we had a decent enough meal – it wasn't the ship's food, that's for damn sure,
and
we had to pay for it – and got out in plenty of time for a little sightseeing.