Миранда Джеймс - Claws For Concern

“All the more reason that the monster responsible should be identified and made to pay the price for what he did.”

“What monster are you talking about?”

Stewart walked into the kitchen, and I hastily introduced him to Jack. Diesel let Stewart know that he was available for attention, and Stewart took a chair and began scratching Diesel’s back.

“The monster who killed the Barbers,” I said. “Particularly the deaths of those two boys.”

“Horrible,” Stewart said. “I’ve been doing some reading about the case. I found a fair number of newspaper articles on the Internet. It’s a fascinating case. The chief suspect had an unshakable, but unprovable, alibi. Evidently Mrs. Delaney was fiercely protective.”

“She had to have been,” Jack said, “to stand up to the kind of pressure the sheriff’s department would have exerted. They wanted Bill Delaney for the murders.”

“Interesting thing about alibis.” Stewart glanced first at me, then Jack, then back to me again. “They work both ways. Mrs. Delaney gave her son an alibi. Said he was passed out drunk all night.”

“Yes, that’s right.” I suddenly saw where Stewart was going with this, and I was angry with myself for not realizing it before now. I let Stewart have his moment, however.

Jack started to speak, but Stewart got in first. “Sylvia Delaney’s only alibi was her dead-to-the-world son. That’s no alibi at all.”

TWENTY-THREE

“I should have thought of that before now,” I said, feeling chagrined.

“You beat me to it.” Jack shared a rueful grin. “You’re right. I was so focused on Bill Delaney’s alibi that I hadn’t really thought seriously about his mother as a suspect.”

“Who we know was protective of her son from what people said about her.” I finished my tea and got up to refill my glass from the fridge. “Stewart, would you like tea?”

“No, thanks,” Stewart replied. “What do you know about Sylvia Delaney’s character? For example, was she hot-tempered like her son? Did she drink?”

“My friend Ernie Carpenter—Charlie met her recently—told me she knew Sylvia Delaney a little,” Jack said. “According to Ernie, Mrs. Delaney was a pillar of her church, known to be a fine, upstanding woman, although she had a temper. Not as bad as her son’s, though.”

“That doesn’t sound like a woman who had a problem with alcohol,” Stewart said. “She sounds too straitlaced to have killed anyone.”

“She might sound that way.” I resumed my place at the table. “But don’t ever underestimate what a parent might do to protect a child. Even if that child was in his midforties, as Bill Delaney would have been at the time. He was her only child, remember.”

“Pillars of the church have murdered before,” Jack said. “I don’t know if you’ve read my books, but one of them was about a preacher in a small town in Texas who murdered three people who had left everything in their wills to his church. He needed the money to pay off his gambling debts.”

“I haven’t read it, but now I want to. Sounds absolutely fascinating,” Stewart said. “What’s the title?” He pulled out his phone in preparation for making a note. He kept all kinds of information on his phone, I had observed. Mine could probably do those things, too, but I had never explored all the apps to find out.

“ Past Praying For ,” Jack replied. “I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Stewart said as he tapped on his phone’s keyboard.

“Obviously we need to dig deeper into Sylvia Delaney,” I said. “Besides Ernie and the one neighbor who still lives next to the old Delaney house, do you know anyone else who might have known her back then?”

“I’m sure there are people from her church we could talk to,” Jack replied. “How well they knew her is anybody’s guess. In my experience many people are careful about what they share with people in their church, especially in a small church.”

“There are always too many people who want to gossip in churches, just like everywhere else,” Stewart said. “The minute they grab on to a juicy tidbit, they fall all over themselves finding people to tell.”

“True,” I said. “But if it weren’t for people willing to share gossip, then we might never find out what we need in order to solve a murder. Jack, do you know what church Sylvia Delaney attended?”

“No,” he replied. “I’ll check with Ernie later.”

“Now you have another suspect,” Stewart said. “My work is done. When are you leaving for the hospital?”

“What do you think?” I looked at Jack. “Shall we go now, or are there other things you want to discuss first?”

“We can go now, if you’re ready.” Jack shoved his notebook and pen back in his backpack.

“Let’s go, then,” I said. “Stewart is going to look after Diesel while we’re gone. We can grab lunch after the hospital.”

“Sounds good,” Jack said. “Stewart, thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure.” Stewart pushed back from the table and stood. “Come on, Diesel, let’s go upstairs. Dante wants to play with you.” He explained to Jack that Dante was his dog before he walked over to the door into the hall. “Come on, boy.”

Diesel looked at me as if to ask permission. He uttered a plaintive meow.

“Go with Stewart,” I said. “I have to go out now, and you can’t come with me.” The cat stared at me for a moment. Then he turned and followed Stewart out of the room.

Jack chuckled. “That cat of yours is quite a character. Does he understand everything you say to him?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Much of the time he seems to, but I’m never completely sure. He is very smart, I do know that.” I rose from the table. “Would you like me to drive?”

“If you don’t mind, that would be good,” Jack said. “The AC in my car is acting up, and I can’t count on it working half the time.”

“I know how that is,” I said as I led the way to the garage. “I went through a Houston summer once without a working AC in the car.”

“Brutal.”

Once we both had our seat belts fastened and Jack’s backpack stowed securely in the backseat, we drove to the hospital. On the way we discussed the approach we wanted to take with both Bill Delaney and Leann Finch, should the latter be at the hospital and available for a meeting.

“Bill Delaney first, though,” Jack said, and I agreed.

“I want to find out whether he knew Leann Finch back in Tullahoma,” I said.

“Speaking of Tullahoma,” Jack said, “tomorrow we need to talk to Elizabeth Barber. I know where she lives, but talking to her at home might not be a good idea. I found out she has a part-time job as a vet tech with one of the veterinarians in Tullahoma. A friend of mine takes her dogs to that vet. I thought we should try there.”

“Why there?” I asked. “Surely it would be better to talk to her at home.”

“Catch her off guard at work and rattle her a little,” Jack said. “But if she isn’t working tomorrow, we’ll have to try her at home.”

“Okay.” Since Jack was the one who suggested we work together, I had no problem with him taking the lead and directing the investigation. I would speak up, though, if I disagreed with him on what I considered an important point.

I pulled into a parking space, and we left the car. Jack shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders as we walked.

“I hope Delaney is in his room and not off having some kind of test,” I said. “I’m not fond of hospitals, and I don’t want to have to sit around waiting.”

“I don’t care for them, either,” Jack said. “But if he isn’t in his room, we can go see if Dr. Finch is on duty today.”