The Kill (7 page)

“Well, I’m sure she’s gotten over it by now. I’ll invite him. Percy was her friend and Richard’s as well. I think he should be here.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Um-hmm. Who else? What about Julia? Was the skinny-dipping a onetime thing or were they close friends?”

Manning eased out a sigh.
That’s
all
he needed
—
to have Julia there the first time he saw Abigale again
. “They were friends, but that was a long time ago, Mother. It’s not like they’ve kept in touch all these years.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll invite Julia. Now, let’s see, that makes six. The table holds eight, so we can invite two more. Any other suggestions?”

“Not really.”

“Then I think I’ll invite Wendy, since she’ll be instrumental in assisting us with the funeral arrangements. Thompson would be a good one to round it out, don’t you think?”

Manning didn’t respond. His mother knew exactly how he felt about Thompson.

M
argaret refused the offer to take a seat in the reception area at the sheriff’s office. If she’d learned anything over the years, it was that sitting usually increased one’s wait time.

“Sheriff Boling shouldn’t be too much longer,” the young woman at the front desk said. “Are you sure I can’t get you a cup of coffee?”

“Nope. I’m just fine, thanks.” Margaret gave her a smile, then glanced at her wristwatch. “Is the sheriff in a meeting?”

The woman’s brown curls jiggled as she jerked her head toward a closed door at the back of the room. “Big hubbub going on in his office.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I think it’s about that man they found shot dead at Longmeadow Park this morning. Couple of deputies came rushing in here about thirty minutes ago, been holed up back there with the sheriff ever since.”

“And you think it’s about the murder?”

“Well, when they went back there, before the sheriff closed the door, I heard one of them say, ‘We have us a suspect, Sheriff. And, get this, he’s a Hispanic.’” She rubbed her hands along the sleeves of the moss-green sweater that she’d probably purchased because of the way it accentuated her eyes. “That’s Sheriff Boling’s top priority, you know. Cracking down on gangs. They’ve been keeping the seriousness of the problem quiet, so as not to hurt tourism and all, but gangs have become a real problem in this county.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am. Most folks figure the gang activity is in the eastern part of the county, closer to Washington. But it’s out here, too.”

“Are you saying the shooting was gang-related?”

The woman held both hands out in a balancing motion, as if weighing the evidence. “Hispanic. Gangs. They go hand in hand.”

Margaret grunted in response, but she stopped short of disagreeing with the woman. No sense getting on her bad side. Never know when she might be useful.

The door to the sheriff’s office screeched open and the receptionist wheeled around in her chair. She rose as Sheriff Boling strode through the doorway, ushering two deputies ahead of him. “Great work, fellas,” the sheriff said, clasping one of the men on the back as he wove his way around the receptionist’s desk. “Keep me in the loop.”

“You bet, Sheriff.”

The front door clanged shut behind the deputies and Sheriff Boling glanced at the receptionist. “Any calls come in for me while I was tied up, Charlotte?”

Bright spots of color flushed the young woman’s cheeks and she ran her palms down the sides of her gray wool skirt. “No, Sheriff Boling, but this lady, Mrs. Southwell, has been waiting to see you.”

The lines around the sheriff’s mouth drooped as his eyes settled on Margaret. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice you standing there.” He grabbed her hand in both of his and gave it a firm squeeze. “Please accept my condolences about Mr. Clarke.”

“The wait was no problem,” Margaret replied. “I’m sure you’re busy, but I’d be most grateful if you could spare a few minutes to talk about the investigation into Richard’s death.”

The sheriff’s head bobbed vigorously. “Of course. In fact, I just came out of a briefing about it.” He spread his arm toward the back of the room. “Come on in my office.”

The sheriff stood aside at the doorway and gestured for Margaret to precede him into the spacious office. “Have a seat on the sofa.” He winced as he swung the door closed. “I keep forgetting to ask Charlotte to have someone oil that door.”

Margaret managed a polite smile. She waited while he settled into one of the leather club chairs that flanked the couch.

“It looks like we may already have a break in the case,” the sheriff said, hiking up his pant leg as he crossed one knee over the other.

“Oh?”

“Yes, ma’am. Seems there’s a road crew, been working repaving St. Louis Road at a spot just due south of Longmeadow.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Okay. Well, a couple of deputies went out there to question the workers. See if anyone had seen anything that might be helpful. Anyhow, it turns out one of the workers, a nineteen-year-old Hispanic boy by the name of Reyes—Dario Reyes—didn’t show up for work this morning.”

“Have they been able to locate him?”

“Nope, but they found his car abandoned by the side of the road—”

The leather sofa squeaked as Margaret leaned forward. “Near the entrance to Longmeadow.”

Sheriff Boling arched an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”

“I saw a car there. This morning. It was parked on the shoulder, but it still took up a fair share of the road. I remember swerving to drive around it.”

“That was Reyes’s car. The last any co-workers saw him was around four-thirty yesterday afternoon when he drove away after work.”

“He had his car at the work site?” Margaret said.

“No. That’s the whole point. He didn’t. His car was parked in Leesburg. The VDOT road crew travels to the work site as a group. He’d have to have driven back to the area after he got off work.”

“Does he live out near Longmeadow?”

“Nowhere near. He lives in Sterling.”

“That’s in the exact opposite direction.”

The sheriff shot a finger at her. “Bingo.”

“Oh, my,” Margaret said, sinking back with a sigh. “What do you suppose brought him back there?”

“I’m figuring, Mr. Clarke might’ve caught Reyes’s eye when he drove through the work site. You know, refined-looking older gentleman driving an expensive Lexus and all.”

“Hmm, perhaps. But if he came back with the intent to harm Richard—if he’s the one who shot Richard—why would he leave his car in a place that would implicate him in the crime?”

The sheriff broke into a broad smile. “The fool boy ran out of gas. Gas tank’s dry as Goose Creek in August.”

“Forcing him to abandon his car,” Margaret murmured. “Has the medical examiner determined the time of Richard’s death?”

“Not yet, but his initial estimate is that Mr. Clarke had been dead for quite a few hours. In other words, it is more likely he died last night than this morning.”

“So you think Reyes saw Richard drive though the paving area yesterday afternoon and went back there after work with the intent to rob him?”

“That’s my hunch.”

“Could be.” As much as Margaret wanted to believe that Richard’s killer had been identified, a prickle of doubt nagged her. Everything seemed to point toward a robbery-related shooting, but still… Of course, she couldn’t come up with a more plausible scenario. Richard didn’t have any enemies. Sure, he was one to take a strong stand on an issue if it was something he felt passionate about, but people out here disagreed on matters all the time. The battle lines that had been drawn over the development of a resort hotel had soured more than one friendship. But folks didn’t go around murdering each other over their differences. Robbery—plain old greed—was the only motive that seemed to fit.

“The entrance to Longmeadow is down the road from the paving area, around that blind curve,” Margaret said. “Reyes couldn’t have seen Richard turn in there.”

“No, not from where they were paving. But Reyes might’ve figured he’d be able to cruise the area and catch a glimpse of the Lexus from the road. It’s my understanding that Mr. Clarke had been frequenting Longmeadow on a regular basis the last few days, getting the place ready for the races. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, it stands to reason that Reyes would assume that Mr. Clarke lived near there. A secluded rural location like that is a dream come true for someone contemplating a robbery.”

“That’s possible, I guess. But—”

“Or,” the sheriff held up his finger and plowed ahead, “could be Reyes heard talk about the upcoming races. Knew there was work going on at Longmeadow. Hell, Mr. Clarke might’ve even told the kid himself. Reyes’s job was traffic control, twirling the sign from STOP to SLOW. Maybe Reyes struck up a conversation with Mr. Clarke after seeing him drive through there a time or two. If so, Mr. Clarke might’ve told him he was working to get Longmeadow ready for the races.”

Margaret couldn’t deny that was a possibility. Richard would strike up a conversation with most anyone. If Richard had stopped his vehicle next to Reyes, it wasn’t inconceivable that he might have exchanged pleasantries with the boy while waiting for traffic to move.

“Do any of the other workers remember seeing this boy, Reyes, talking to Richard?”

“Nah, not yet. But there’s a whole lot of
yo no comprendo
going on right now. And those who do understand, they don’t remember nothing.” He snorted a laugh. “We’ll shake them down a bit, threaten to have INS start sniffing around, and their comprehension and memories are bound to improve. In the meantime, we need to nail down the time Mr. Clarke arrived at Longmeadow. All the pieces of the puzzle fall together if Mr. Clarke drove through the paving area before they wrapped up work on the job site at four o’clock.”

“Michael, Richard’s barn manager, should know what time Richard left his farm to head in that direction. But I have to believe Richard would have driven past the work crew before four o’clock. It gets dark by six these days. I doubt Richard would have bothered going to Longmeadow if he didn’t have enough daylight to put in at least an hour or two of work on the racecourse.”

“And Mr. Clarke was working by himself yesterday afternoon?”

Either that, or waiting for Manning
, Margaret thought. She said, “As far as I know.”

Gathering her pocketbook, she rose from the couch. “I’ve already monopolized too much of your time, Sheriff, but before I go I’d like to know when we’ll be allowed back onto the premises at Longmeadow. We have the point-to-point races on Sunday and final preparations have to be made. Several obstacles are in need of repair and we still have to put the snow fence in place. This rain has handed us some additional chores, but the clouds appear to be breaking up. If we could get back to work tomorrow, I think we can get the course in good shape.”

The sheriff stood. “So you intend to hold the races as planned?”

“Yes, we do. We’ve discussed it and feel that’s what Richard would have wanted. It won’t be easy to pull off, but we’ll manage.”

Sheriff Boling’s broad fingers pulled at his chin and he gave her a slow nod. “As a matter of fact, I think it’d be good for the whole community if the races go on, business as usual. We’re still licking our wounds from the negative image dumped on this county when we had that Doug Cummings mess. Killing. Kidnapping. It gave folks the heebie-jeebies; tourism dropped drastically the following year. Our economy can’t stomach that happening again. Having your races would be a good incentive for folks to get out into the community rather than hunkering down and locking their doors. I think it’s in everyone’s best interest to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

Margaret leveled a look at him. “Not at the expense of a thorough investigation into Richard’s murder, I hope.”

“No, no, of course not. I’m going to assign Lieutenant Mallory to head up the investigation. He’s one of my best men.”

“I know Lieutenant Mallory.”

The sheriff touched his palm to his forehead. “Of course you do. Mallory was my go-to man when your busload of campers went missing.”

Margaret nodded. “I was very pleased with how Lieutenant Mallory handled it.”

“Well, good. And now that we have a suspect, I anticipate the pace of this investigation will escalate rapidly. At the very minimum, I’ll tell Mallory to see that we conclude our crime scene search as quickly as possible and grant you and your hunt members access to Longmeadow Park.”