“But if you didn’t kill him, who did?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It had to be J.W. Quicksilver. He had motive. Jefferson said he was indignant when he confronted him about our scam. And he had opportunity. Sometime before the book club was scheduled to start, he escaped from his bindings. He must have confronted Jefferson at Betty Jean’s house, found him alone and, in a fury, killed him.”
“That’s a bit out there, isn’t it?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Rusty taps on the window and points to the clock. My time is almost up.
“Just one more question. I got to Betty Jean’s house around five thirty. That’s when I found Jefferson dead. Book club wasn’t supposed to start until seven. What was he doing there so early?”
Archie sits up straight. “Five thirty? That’s impossible. Anita and I got back to the beach house around four that afternoon. Once we knew we’d been compromised, we packed up and left the beach house immediately. That was around four fifteen. Jefferson and I argued because I wanted him to come with us, but he was supposed to meet with another potential mark at The Harbor House for drinks at five. He told us to go ahead; he’d meet the mark, then go on to Betty Jean’s house and catch up to us the next day.” He frowns. “I didn’t realize the time of death was … You have to be wrong about that. He wouldn’t have missed meeting up with a mark. The game was everything to Jefferson.”
“Maybe the mark didn’t show up? Or canceled? And Jefferson decided to go to Betty Jean’s early?”
“Perhaps.”
I can tell he’s disturbed by what I just told him, but I’m not sure why or what it means.
“Do you know who this potential mark was?”
“Jefferson didn’t give me a name. At that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted Anita and I to get as far away as possible. We would have made it too, if it wasn’t for a faulty taillight.”
Rusty taps again on the window, this time more impatiently. I nod, indicating that I’m done.
Archie puts a finger up in the air. “Before you go, may I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“The night of the book signing at The Harbor House. You said you’d written a romance novel. Was that true?”
I could lie to him, but what would be the point? “No.”
He chuckles to himself. “It appears I’m not the only one who gave a good performance that night.”
“Guess not.”
As productive as this conversation has been, I’m now back to square one, because everything Archie has just told me is the truth.
He isn’t the killer.
Chapter Fourteen
I walk out into the hallway and run smack into Travis and FBI Agent Patricia Billings.
Uh-oh.
“Well, if it isn’t Lucy McGuffin,” says Agent Billings. “Funny running into you at police headquarters.” It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen her, so it’s too soon to hope that she’s changed. She’s still starchy. Still steely-eyed. Still too astute. You’d think she’d cut me some slack considering that the last time I saw her I saved her bacon from a mob hit.
“You know me. I brought muffins to the station. Our police work so hard. We have to keep them motivated.” I pump my fist in the air for emphasis.
Travis doesn’t buy it. “Did you just come out of the interrogation room?”
“What?” I ask, playing innocent. “Is it around here somewhere?”
“Excuse us a moment,” he says to Billings. He takes me by the elbow and leads me into Zeke Grant’s office, then closes the door shut.
“Should we be in Zeke’s office without him?” I ask.