Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

If she didn’t say something, she’d fall asleep. “I didn’t see Sam the last time I was here.” She nodded at the dog, and his plumy tail waved a bit at the sound of his name.

“He can get stressed if there’s company,” Trey said, not moving.

The likeness between dog and man, both stretched out in almost-comatose relaxation, made her smile. “He doesn’t look particularly stressed at the moment,” she observed.

“Like me, you mean.” Trey hadn’t moved, but he seemed to sense her smile, which was a disturbing thought.

“I didn’t say that.” She probably should stop looking at him.

“Sam was Blake’s dog.” Geneva, not seeming to notice the byplay, bent to ruffle Sam’s ears. His tail thudded against the Oriental rug. “He still misses him, don’t you, Sammy?”

The dog didn’t respond. But Trey’s muscles tightened so much that Jessica didn’t have to be looking at him to feel his tension. Wishing she hadn’t mentioned the dog, she sought for a change of subject.

“I take it you didn’t make much progress with the young people you interviewed today,” Leo said, coming to the rescue.

“Not much.” The reminder was discouraging. “It was the teenage wall of silence. No one would admit to anything more than seeing Thomas and Cherry at the party. No one saw anyone slip the drug to Thomas, or knows anything about any drugs, or will even admit to seeing them leave, either separately or together.”

“Kids watch too much television,” Leo said. “They know they don’t have to talk to you.”

“You’ll have better luck tomorrow night with the Amish kids.” Geneva was the eternal optimist. “If Bishop Amos told them to talk, they’ll talk.”

“I just hope somebody at that party was sober enough to notice something.” She stared down into the cup of coffee that Geneva assured her was decaf. “The trial date is coming on fast, and right now we have nothing.”

“Something will turn up.” Geneva closed the newspaper and tossed it aside. “Honestly, I’m going to cancel my subscription to that paper if they don’t stop printing all that garbage about Thomas.”

“It might make more of an impression if you canceled your advertising,” Leo said. “The Morgan name means something around here.”

“That’s a good idea.” Geneva brightened. “Trey, that’s just what we should do. I’ll call tomorrow and cancel our advertising. And when they ask why, I’ll tell them.”

Trey sat up marginally straighter. “We can’t do that. We need them as much as they need us.”

“Advertising?” Jessica blinked, the comment taking her off-guard. “What do you advertise?”

“Morgan Lumberyard, Morgan Real Estate, MRB Construction, Morgan’s Tractor Parts…” Trey stopped, frowning. “Anything else we’re running ads for right now, Mom?”

“The feed mill,” Geneva said. “And I really feel we ought to do more about the general store. I know you think it’s old-fashioned, but tourists find it quaint.”

“You own all those businesses?”

Trey had mentioned something about businesses and rental property in relation to Morgan Enterprises, but she’d assumed…well, she wasn’t sure what she’d assumed. Still, he’d made it clear that he was taking time away from work to help with the case.

“Anyway, I will not pay advertising dollars to a paper that prints innuendo as news.” Geneva’s cheeks flushed. “Imagine, hinting that Thomas was using drugs.”

Leo looked a little startled at the response to what had been an offhand comment. “I really didn’t mean you should rush into anything, Geneva. Why don’t I call the publisher tomorrow and see if that does any good?”

Geneva looked reluctant to give up on the idea of taking on the newspaper. “I feel as if I’m not doing a thing useful. As least if I did cancel our advertising, I’d be making a statement.”

“Let’s see how they respond to Leo first, Mom.” Trey’s voice soothed, but his eyebrows had drawn together. “And you’re doing plenty. It encourages Thomas to know you’re behind him. Really.” He turned to Jessica. “By the way, I have to go to Harrisburg tomorrow to attend a couple of meetings with state legislators about the proposal to turn the interstate into a toll road, but I’ll be back in plenty of time to pick you up. The kids won’t be gathering until it’s getting dark-probably nine or so.”

She recognized the appeal in his look. Get his mother off the subject of mounting a campaign against the newspaper, it said. “That’s fine. I have some other things to do during the day anyway. I want to interview Cherry’s employer and her coworkers.”

Leo stirred. “I read through their statements to the police. Not much there.”

“What do you think they’ll tell you that they didn’t tell the police?” Trey’s eyebrows lifted, as if to question her use of her time.

“Maybe nothing.” She was a little nettled. What did he know about preparing a case? “But I need to see for myself. I don’t believe in taking things for granted.”

“Always want to do it yourself,” he said, his voice deceptively lazy.

She straightened. “That’s right. I want to track down Charles Fulton, as well. Leo, you said he worked at a local garage?”

“Chip Fulton?” Trey’s voice cut across Leo’s answer. “What does he have to do with this?”

“He and Cherry apparently had a relationship, and he has a history of violence. The police didn’t bother to do more than a cursory interview with him.”

“Thought they already had their killer gift wrapped,” Leo murmured.

“Maybe Chip should be interviewed,” Trey said. “But you can’t do it.”

She gave him a chilly look. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, you shouldn’t do it. Not alone.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking a statement from the man.” Trey had a nerve implying that she liked to do everything for herself. His protectiveness was far worse. “I’ve never required a bodyguard before, and I don’t now.”

Trey sat bolt upright in the chair, any pretense of relaxation dropped. “I’m telling you, Chip is nobody to fool around with. He’s got a nasty temper, and if he thinks you’re hinting that he killed Cherry…”

“That’s ridiculous.” Her own temper wasn’t helped by the fact that Geneva and Leo were watching them with identical expressions of amusement. “First of all, I’m not going to hint anything of the kind. And secondly, I might need your help in communicating with the Amish, but the Chip Fultons of the world I can handle on my own. I spent three years as an A.D.A. in Philadelphia, and I doubt very much that Chip can match what I dealt with there.”

Trey’s mouth tightened. “I still say-”

She stood. “Thank you so much for dinner, Geneva. I really think I’d better get back to the motel.”

“Don’t rush off just because Trey is being bossy,” Geneva said, for all the world as if Jessica were ending a playdate because of a childish spat. “He can’t help it. He was born that way. You can have another sliver of pie, can’t you?”

“Not possibly.” She didn’t dare look at Trey to see how he reacted to his mother’s comments. “It’s not anything Trey said. I have some work I have to get through before I quit for the night.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Geneva looked doubtful.

“I’m sure.” She bent to pick up her bag. “Good night, Geneva. Leo.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Trey shoved himself from his chair before she could say that wasn’t necessary.

When she turned to precede Trey out the door, Sam lumbered to his feet and followed them.

“Time for a little walk, old boy?” Trey’s voice relaxed when he spoke to the dog. “Come on, then.”