"He had a fit," Renaldo mumbled. "He didn't want that girl gone. I visited him at the jail. He told me he was sure she run away."
"Did you believe him?" I leaned forward and looked at Renaldo, which was painful but necessary.
"Yes," Renaldo said clearly. "I believed him."
There wasn't much point staying after that, and we were glad to get out of the reeking little house and away from its hopeless inhabitants.
I could hardly wait for Tolliver to buckle his seat belt. I backed out of the yard without having any idea where we were going. I began to drive back to Texas Boulevard, just to have a direction. "So, what do you think?" I asked.
"I think Tammy is repeating what my dad told her," Tolliver said. "Whether or not he was telling the truth, that's another thing."
"She believed him."
Tolliver made a derisive sound, practically a snort. "Let's see if we can talk to Pete Gresham," he said, and I headed for the police department. There are two police departments in one building on State Line Avenue, the Texas and the Arkansas police. There are two different police chiefs. I don't know how it all works, or who pays for what.
We found Pete Gresham working at his desk. We'd been given permission to go up to his office, and he was poring over a file on his desk, a file he shut when he saw us standing before him.
"You two! Good to see you! I'm sorry the tape didn't pan out," he said, standing and leaning over the desk to shake Tolliver's good hand. "I hear you had a little trouble in Big D."
"Well, the outskirts of Big D," I said. "We were in the neighborhood, and we thought we'd stop by to ask what you knew about the anonymous caller who tipped you off about the woman who looked like Cameron."
"Male, call came in from a pay phone." Pete Gresham, a big man who was a little bigger every time I saw him, shrugged. He still didn't wear glasses, but as Rudy Flemmons had told us, there wasn't a hair on Gresham's head. "Not much to tell."
"Could we hear it?" Tolliver asked. I turned to look at him. That had come out of nowhere.
"Well, I'll have to track the recording down," Pete said. He got up and headed toward the elevator, and I said, "What made you think of that?"
"We might as well," Tolliver said.
But Pete was back too quickly. I know my bureaucracies, and he couldn't have found the recording that quickly. "Sorry, you two," he said. "The guy who stores all that stuff is off today. He'll be in tomorrow. Can I call you and play it over the phone to you?"
"Sure, that'd be fine," I said. I gave him my cell phone number.
"You making a good living finding corpses?" he asked.
"Yeah, we do okay," Tolliver said.
"Hear you stopped a bullet," Pete said. "Whose toes did you step on?"
"Hard to say," Tolliver said, and he smiled. "Matthew's out of jail, by the way."
The detective looked a lot more serious. "I forgot he was due to get out. He turn up in Dallas?"
I nodded.
"Don't let him get you down," Pete said. "He's one of the bad ones. I've known guys like him my whole working life, and as a rule, they don't change none."
"I agree," I said. "And we're doing our best to keep away from him."
"How's those little sisters?" We were walking to the elevator now, and Pete was escorting us.
"They're good. Mariella just turned twelve and Gracie is going on nine." Maybe she was younger. In fact, I was sure she was younger. It was a strange moment to think it, but I realized that Gracie's being classified as lagging behind in her age group might be an incorrect diagnosis. The lag in her development that we'd attributed to her low birth weight and her persistent bad health might actually have been due to her real birth date being three or four months later than we'd believed.
"I can't imagine them that old." Pete shook his head at the passage of time, and I pulled myself back into the here and now to say, "By the way, I talked to Ida the other day."
"Ida? The woman who saw the blue truck? What did Ida have to say?"
When I told him about Ida's conversation with the Meals on Wheels woman, he cursed a blue streak. Then he apologized. "Idiots," he said. "Now I gotta call the woman and then I'll have to go see Ida again. I swear someday I'm not going to get out of that house. She'll say she don't want any visitors, and once I get there, she'll talk and talk until I think I'm going deaf."
I tried to smile, but I couldn't squeeze one out. Tolliver just nodded.
"I see what that does to the timeline, Harper. I promise you, any time I get a lead I chase it down. I want to know what happened to your sister about as much as you do. And I'm sorry your asshole of a father ever got out of jail."
"I am, too," I said, not sure if I could speak for Tolliver or not. "But we don't think he took Cameron."
"I don't either," Pete said, which surprised me quite a bit. "I know what you can do, Harper, and I remember seeing you and Tolliver riding around after you graduated from high school. I know you were looking for her. If you didn't find her, I don't think she's here to be found. If Matthew did it, he'd have had to bury her close, real close, and he didn't have much time. You would've found her."
I nodded. "We tried," I said. "Unless someone took her from the parking lot at the high school and just dumped her bag along the route back to the trailer, which would widen the search area..."
"We did think of that," Pete said mildly.
I flushed. "I'm not..."
"It's okay. You want to find your sister. I do, too."
"Thanks, Pete," Tolliver said and shook his hand again.
"You get better now, you hear," Pete said and turned to walk back to his cubicle.
"We've wasted a lot of time here today," I said. I was depressed and wondering what to do next.
"I don't know about that," Tolliver said. "We've learned a little. You want to drop by to say hello to the Clevelands?"
I thought about it. My foster parents were good people, and I respected them, but I wasn't in the mood for catch-up conversation. "I guess not," I said. "I guess we ought to head back to Garland."
The cell phone rang. "Hello," I said.
"Harper, this is Lizzie."
She sounded shaky. Though our acquaintance was limited, I'd never heard Lizzie sound less than positive and forceful.
"What's wrong, Lizzie?"
"Oh, gosh, nothing! We were wondering where you were... if you could stop by the ranch for a minute."
Stop by the ranch? When for all they knew, we were two hours' drive away in Garland?
"We're in Texarkana right now," I said, thinking furiously but not coming up with anything. "I guess we could come by. What do you need?"
"I just wanted to touch base with you. About poor Victoria, and a couple of other things."
I relayed all this to Tolliver in fewer words. He looked as taken aback as I felt. "Do you feel up to this? I can tell her no," I said.
"We might as well stop by. We're in the area, and they know a lot of people." The Joyces knew a lot of people with disposable income who might want to have some graves read.
I found myself wondering if we'd see Chip again. There was definitely something about the ranch manager/boyfriend that interested me, and it wasn't a physical attraction. At least not in the "I want to jump your bones" sense. But bones had something to do with it...
We didn't talk much as we drove out of Texarkana. I was puzzled and worried by Lizzie's odd request, and Tolliver was thinking about something that worried him, too. I could tell by the way he sat and the tense muscles of his face. We took the exit off the interstate without any further discussion.
We drove by Pioneer Rest Cemetery and turned off onto the long driveway that ran between wide rolling fields. We could see miles in every direction, even with evening drawing in. Finally, we reached the gate to RJ Ranch, and Tolliver insisted on jumping out to open and then close the gate after I drove through.
I noticed that I couldn't see anyone, anywhere. On our previous visit, we'd been able to see people moving around in the distance.
We pulled up in the large paved parking area in front of the big house. We got out of our car and looked around. Everything seemed still. It was a warm day; in fact, it felt like it was spring. But the hush seemed abnormal. I shook my head doubtfully, but after a shrug, Tolliver led the way up the brick-paved path.
The big front door swung open, and Lizzie stood framed by the rectangle. The entrance hall behind her was shadowy. Talk about abnormal; though she was obviously making a huge effort to smile at us, it seemed more like the grin of a skull. Her eyes were as round as quarters and tension screamed in every muscle.
Red alert. Our steps slowed. "Hey, you-all, come on in." All the natural enthusiasm she'd shown when we'd met here the first time had been replaced by an intense anxiety.
"We shouldn't have said we'd come by, we have an appointment in Dallas," I said. "Lizzie, can we come back tomorrow? We really can't miss this date we have."
I saw the relief on Lizzie's narrow face. "Well, just give me a call tonight," she said. "You-all drive on to Dallas."
"Oh, come in and have a drink," Chip said from behind her.
She twitched, and her attempt at a smile vanished. "Get back in the car," she said, "Get out!"
"You better not," Chip said, his voice calm and level. "You better come on in." We saw that he had revolver in his hand. That clarified our choice.
Chip and Lizzie backed up.
"I'm sorry," she said to me. "I'm sorry. He said he'd shoot Kate if I didn't call you."
"I would have done it, too," Chip said.
"I know you would," I told him. As we eased past Lizzie and stood in the square foyer, waiting for further directions, I understood what had fascinated me about Chip. His bones. His bones were dead. This was a strange connection, and one I'd never experienced before; or if I had, I hadn't understood its nature.
"Where is everyone?" Tolliver asked. His voice was as calm as Chip's.
"I sent everyone on the payroll to the farthest places on the ranch I could think of, and it's Rosita's day off," Chip said. He was smiling again, bright and hard, and I sure would have liked to wipe that look off his face. "It's just me and the family."
Shit.
Chip herded us all down the hall to the gun room. The light was still streaming in all the French doors, and the view was just as beautiful, but now I was in no mood to admire it.
Drex was standing there. He had a gun, too, which was a surprise. Kate was tied to a chair. They'd released Lizzie to lure us in the house. The ropes were loose around another chair.
"Good to see you again, Harper," Drex said. "We had a good time at the Outback, didn't we?"
"It was all right," I said. "It was too bad that Victoria was murdered after that. Kind of ruined my memory of the evening."
He gulped and looked upset, just for a split second. "Yeah, she was a nice woman," he said. "She seemed like a... She seemed good at what she did."
"She worked hard for you-all," I said.
"You think they'll ever find out who killed her?" Chip said. He smiled some more.
"Did you shoot Tolliver?" I asked him. There didn't seem to be much point in keeping quiet about it.
"Naw," he said. "That was my buddy Drex, here. Drex ain't good for much, but he can shoot. I told Drex to shoot you, but he seemed reluctant." He said the word slowly, as if he'd just learned it. "He didn't want to shoot a woman. Ol' Drex is gallant in his own way. I tried to correct his thinking a few nights later when you were out running, but damn if that cop didn't jump in front of you and take the bullet. I wouldn't have fired if I'd known he was a cop. I thought he looked sort of familiar, and it made me sick when I heard I'd shot a football player."
"Why shoot us at all?"
"Because you knew about Mariah, and you told. Maybe I could get Lizzie to forget about it if you died, but I knew as long as you lived she'd think about what you said at the cemetery. She'd wonder about her grandfather's death, and she'd ask herself who wanted him dead. Then she'd go looking, if she believed there was a baby. Lizzie would love to have a kid to raise, and she's all about family." He dug the gun into Lizzie's neck, and he kissed her on the mouth. She spat when he drew away, and he laughed.
"Why would I have to be dead?" I was genuinely curious.
"'Cause that's the way my baby is. She pays attention to things when they're right in front of her, but if they're out of sight, they're out of mind."
That seemed like underrating Lizzie, to me. But he knew her better than I ever would. I understood, after a second's thought. Chip knew that failing to prevent me from coming to Texas was his big mistake. If I died, my death would erase that mistake. Of course that couldn't be done. But it would make him feel better.
"Lizzie, I'm sure someone drew your attention to my website," I said. "I'm sure someone pointed you in the right direction, thought it might be interesting to have me here to look at your graveyard."
"Yeah," Lizzie said. The sun was shining onto the terrace at an angle; it was about three thirty in the afternoon. "Yeah, Kate did."
