Trinity Harbor 3 - Along Came Trouble (12 page)

Tucker regarded Anna-Louise with curiosity. “So, what’s the speculation at Earlene’s about the kil er? Any theories?”

“Aren’t policemen supposed to be more interested in facts than theories?” Anna-Louise asked.

“Sometimes the best theories contain a nugget of truth. I’l take my leads anywhere I can find them,” Tucker responded. “What’s Richard heard?”

“Nothing he’s passed on to me, more’s the pity,” the minister said with a hint of disgust. “He’s been working ‘round the clock to get out this week’s edition. I do know this, people around here are very nervous. Earlene says she hasn’t heard this much talk about alarm systems and guard dogs since that banker was kil ed a few years ago. Trinity Harbor has always been a quiet, safe place to raise a family. This has shaken everyone, reminded them that the real world is encroaching. Next thing you know, there’s going to a backlash against any and al attempts at development or tourism. People don’t want to give up the peaceful way of life that’s been theirs for generations.”

“I doubt we can hold it back,” Tucker said honestly.

“I agree,” Anna-Louise said. “But isn’t it a shame we can’t?”

“Amen to that,” Tucker said, his gaze on Mary Elizabeth. He certainly wished he could turn back the clock—say, six years or so—to a time when this woman had been his to love. Maybe, with a second chance, he could have figured out some way to keep her from making what had clearly turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

8

L
iz thought she’d been doing a pretty amazing job of holding herself together. Al those years of deceiving everyone into believing that she was leading a charmed life had served her wel . No one, with the possible exception of Tucker, had seen just how terrified and alone she felt. But Anna-Louise’s reminder that she was going to have to go to the funeral home and make the arrangements for Larry’s burial brought reality crashing down on her.

This wasn’t just some terrible nightmare or TV soap opera. Larry Chandler—the most vital man on earth, albeit a philanderer—was actual y dead, and she was going to have to bury him without letting a single soul see the disdain she had come to feel for him. The realization set off a trembling deep inside her that wouldn’t stop. She had already buried too many important people in her life—first her parents, then her beloved grandfather, who’d died less than a year after her marriage, content that he was leaving her in capable hands. If he’d only known…

“Are you al right?” Anna-Louise asked, regarding her worriedly.

“It just hit me,” Liz said, feeling suddenly shel -shocked. “Isn’t that crazy? Everything happened so fast that it just hit me that my husband is gone forever, that he won’t be coming back.”

“It happens that way sometimes,” the pastor said. “Sometimes the mind keeps the truth at a distance until we’re ready to cope with it.”

“What if we’re never ready?” Liz asked, thinking of the huge void Larry’s absence would leave in her life. Granted, she’d been preparing for that ever since she’d decided to divorce him, but it wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be, when the void was so…permanent.

“We’re ready when we need to be,” Anna-Louise insisted. “God gives us the strength to do the things we have to do. Would you like me to cal someone to go with you to make the arrangements?”

Liz bit back a hysterical sob. “There’s no one. Isn’t that funny? A woman who once knew everyone in this town has no one to cal for help.” Once she would have cal ed Daisy, but that was out of the question now.

“Except Tucker,” Anna-Louise said quietly.

“I can’t ask him to do this,” Liz said firmly. “I can do it. The people at the funeral home are old family friends. They’l make it easy for me. I just need a few minutes to pul myself together.”

“I’l come with you,” Anna-Louise said decisively. “I won’t let you do this alone.”

“Thank you, but I can’t ask you to spend your time that way.”

“It’s what I’m here for, to assist you in any way I can.”

Liz thought of Frances’s offer to help. “No, it’s okay. Actual y there is someone I can cal . Frances wil meet me there, I’m sure. She and my grandfather were dear friends. She’l do it for his sake.”

“Of course she wil ,” Anna-Louise said at once. “Why don’t I cal her, while you get ready?”

Liz realized then that she was stil wearing her robe, an expensive silky confection that bared too much. No wonder Anna-Louise had been appal ed by her presence in Tucker’s kitchen. “I’m sorry,” she said, gesturing to her attire. “It’s al I had.”

“I’m not judging you. It’s not my business to judge anyone.”

“Then you’re a rarity,” Liz said.

“Only because I take my job seriously. I counsel. I never judge. I leave that to a higher authority.”

Liz smiled at the comfortable, easy way the minister had of speaking about God. “Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone had the same relationship with their boss that you have with yours?”

Anna-Louise grinned. “Oh, we’ve had our share of squabbles,” she assured her. “But in the end, I’m usual y forced to admit He knows what He’s doing.”

“I like you,” Liz told her impulsively. “I wish we were getting to know each other under other circumstances.”

“We have lots of time,” Anna-Louise said, regarding her with a serene expression that had the power to soothe. “Something tel s me you’re home to stay.”

Home,
Liz thought. How long had it been since she’d al owed herself to think of Trinity Harbor as home? She could trace it to the moment she’d walked down the aisle at Anna-Louise’s church—long before Anna-Louise’s arrival there—and said her vows to Larry. At that instant, when she’d severed the final tie to her past with Tucker, she had known that for her Trinity Harbor would never be the same.

At the time, she’d had few regrets, beyond the knowledge that she’d hurt a man who hadn’t deserved it. She’d always wanted to live in a big city with al of its cultural opportunities. Knowing that they would live in Richmond for much of the year, with only duty cal s back to see Larry’s constituents in Trinity Harbor, had been part of his appeal. That Washington might be their next stop was even more appealing.

She had known what turning her back on Tucker and Trinity Harbor meant. People here had long memories, and they loved Tucker. Taking their cues from King, they’d been distant with her from that moment on. They’d behaved exactly as she’d anticipated.

Was it possible after al this time to win back their affection, to earn a real place for herself here? Would it be fair to Tucker? Would she even be able to bear spending al her time in a community that held so many memories if the man who was central to them kept her at arm’s length?

Liz sighed. None of those questions could be answered today, or even in a week. Al she knew for sure was that Richmond had lost its glamour.

Time would tel if Trinity Harbor would be enough for her. Luckily, she had nothing but time on her hands.

Walker scowled when Tucker strol ed into the sheriff’s office on Courthouse Square in Montross. “What are you doing here?”

Tucker frowned right back at him, pointedly taking note of the fact that Walker was sitting in
his
chair, behind
his
desk. “Unless there’s been a coup, it’s stil my office. I’ve taken a leave of absence. I haven’t quit. You getting power hungry already?”

“No way,” Walker said fervently. “You can have this job back anytime you want it. Just so you know, though, I may never forgive you for tossing me this particular political hot potato.” He waved a stack of messages in Tucker’s direction. “These are the media cal s.” He picked up another stack. “These are inquiries from Chandler’s cronies in the house of delegates.” He reached for another batch. “And these are from the concerned citizens of the county, who wonder if they’re going to be shot while they’re watching
Jeopardy
some night. Any suggestions what I should do about them?”

Tucker gathered up al three stacks and tossed them in the trash. “Just do your job. Solve Chandler’s murder, and the rest wil take care of itself.”

“If only,” Walker retorted. “Try tel ing that to the media hounds who have tired of waiting for my cal s and started gathering outside.”

“I noticed,” Tucker said with little sympathy. “I had to duck around back to get inside.”

“Somebody’s going to have to talk to them sooner or later. They’re not going away,” Walker lamented.

“Send Michele out,” Tucker suggested. “She’s pretty good at fending off annoying pests.”

Walker final y grinned. “Not a bad idea. I’l be right back. Sit tight. As long as you’re here, we need to talk.”

Tucker sat in the visitor’s chair, leaving his own seat for Walker. For once he was glad to relinquish it. Despite his refusal to display any overt sympathy for Walker’s plight, he didn’t envy his brother-in-law the position he’d put him in.

Walker came back in, a smile splitting his face. “Michele’s out there now, giving them a bunch of double talk drenched in honey. They’re lapping it up, especial y those jaded guys from the papers up in D.C. Won’t be til after she’s back inside that they realize she hasn’t actual y given them any news.”

He met Tucker’s gaze. “Now, then, why don’t you tel me just how deep you plan to dig in this case?”

“Til I hit pay dirt,” Tucker said.

“Are you going to work with me or make my life hel ?” Walker asked bluntly.

Tucker laughed. “Your cal .”

“Okay, then. Just don’t tamper with any evidence, share whatever you find and we’l be okay.”

“You’l do the same?”

“As much as I can,” Walker agreed. “I won’t keep anything from you unless I feel it could compromise the investigation.”

“In other words, if it involves Mary Elizabeth.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fair enough. What do you have so far?”

Walker flipped open a file. “He was shot at point-blank range. Doc James figures that means whoever shot him was someone he knew and al owed to get right in his face. We’l see if the medical examiner in Richmond agrees. No sign of a weapon anywhere on the premises. We’ve got about a mil ion sets of fingerprints we’re checking out. Too bad Mrs. Chandler didn’t have the housekeeper clean before she came back to town. It would have made our lives easier. As it is, there are prints there from their last visit, when they apparently threw some sort of fund-raiser. Richard tel s me the place was crawling with bigwigs from al over the state. He’s promised to bring over al the pictures he took at the event, but I seriously doubt we’l find anything that wil do us a bit of good.”

“Can I see the crime-scene photos?”

“Sure.” Walker handed him a thick envelope. “Maybe you’l spot something I missed.”

Tucker sifted through the pictures, most of which showed a room that was as tidy as if nothing untoward had taken place there. Only the photos of the victim himself betrayed any evidence of the violent attack. “Three gunshot wounds?” he asked, startled. Mary Elizabeth had mentioned only one.

“Yes,” Walker confirmed. “Whoever did it wanted to make very sure he was dead. The shot that clipped an artery accounts for al the blood. That’s probably the one that kil ed him.”

“Does that suggest something to you?” Tucker asked.

“Revenge comes to mind,” Walker conceded. “But so does panic.”

“I like revenge better,” Tucker said grimly. “At least it gives us something to look for. You run across anybody who hated Chandler yet?”

“Not me. You’re in a better position to assemble a list of suspects like that than I am. Mrs. Chandler hasn’t given me that list of names she promised yet. So far al I have are those unsigned letters and anonymous answering machine tapes. Has she been any more forthcoming with you?”

“Just one name so far, a woman who used to work as Chandler’s campaign manager—Cynthia Miles.”

“Why would she want him dead?”

“Mary Elizabeth discovered they were having an affair and had Chandler fire Ms. Miles right after he was elected to office. She also made sure her husband broke off the affair.”

“That gives us motive, assuming she carried a grudge for what, six years or so? It doesn’t give us much else to go on. I’l track her down, though.

She stil in Richmond?”

“According to Mary Elizabeth, she is.”

“Anything else?” Walker asked.

“Not so far, but I haven’t real y started to dig. The thing I do know is that there’s not even one viable political opponent here in the county who might be desperate to land Chandler’s seat in the house of delegates. He’s had a lock on it since he won that first election. Ken Wil is went up against him once and was destroyed by a landslide. Nobody’s wanted to chal enge Chandler since that debacle.”

“How about business enemies?”

“I’l look into that today,” Tucker said. “Walker, you’re the homicide expert. Do you think there’s any chance in hel this could have been a random kil ing, a robbery that went awry, maybe?”

“It doesn’t look that way to me, not with no signs of forced entry, and Mrs. Chandler hasn’t come up with anything that’s missing.”

“Maybe the kil er heard her coming back to the house and took off before he could take anything,” Tucker said. “Is there an estimate yet on the time of death?”

“Sometime between eight o’clock at night and two in the morning. Doc James says the state M.E. might be able to narrow it down a little further than that, but so far that’s his best estimate.”

Unfortunately, Mary Elizabeth had returned to the house right smack in the middle of that range, according to her story that she’d gotten home during the eleven o’clock news. If she was tel ing the truth, that would narrow the time of death to the hours between eight and eleven.

If she was lying, she could have been there right when her husband was being shot…and she could have been the one pul ing the trigger.

Tucker looked up to see Walker regarding him sympathetical y.

“Yeah, I know,” his deputy said. “That keeps Mrs. Chandler right at the top of the list of suspects. We
know
she was there during that time frame, because she’s admitted it. And so far, she’s the only one we know of who had both motive and opportunity.”