to be backin’ your congressional run?”
“I haven’t even decided whether I’m goin’ to run or not,” snapped Davis. He turned to Robie. “And what did Bobby Wendell tell you? What was his daddy bein’ blackmailed for?”
Robie took out the photo and passed it over to Davis.
The man looked down at it and then flinched. “What the hell is this?”
“Sherman Clancy’s blackmail tool.”
Davis looked up. “Pedophilia?”
Robie nodded.
“Are you tellin’ me this is Nelson Wendell?”
“Yes. Bobby Wendell confirmed it was his father. The picture’s from many years ago, of course.”
Davis studied the photo and then his features became resigned. “My God. I guess money and bein’ from a fine family don’t matter a’tall.”
Reel said, “For the record, you can find scum in the rich, the middle class, and the poor.”
Robie added, “And while of course he wouldn’t admit to it, it’s nearly certain that Bobby sent a bunch of goons after Pete Clancy when he decided he wanted a piece of the blackmail action after his father died. I saved his butt from them. Then they kidnapped Sara Chisum to use her as bait to try to kill me and my partner here.”
Davis nodded slowly, his penetrating gaze on Robie. The “aw shucks” demeanor of the man had completely disappeared. And in that look Robie seemed to realize that the insufferable man might actually be a cagy prosecutor.
“Did Bobby Wendell have Sara Chisum killed?” asked Davis.
“I don’t think so but I can’t be sure. Same answer on whether he killed Clancy and Janet Chisum.”
“So who then? This serial killer just happens on the scene and starts killin’ folks that are blackmailin’ rich folks? And Clancy I get, but how did the Chisum sisters get involved?”
“Clancy probably told them while he was drunk and having sex with them,” replied Robie.
Davis shook his head. “The Devil gets inside’a you, no tellin’ what trouble you’ll get into. So the girls were after money too? They bit off mor’n they could chew. But your gut says you don’t think the Wendells killed them?”
“No, I don’t think so. Bobby tried to get these photos back. And the men we killed were part of that effort. And after she was nearly murdered by those guys, I seriously doubt that Sara would have arranged to meet with them alone late at night in the woods.”
“But that just leaves this serial killer person,” said Davis.
“No,” said Reel, tapping the photo. “That leaves whoever took this picture.”
“And how do we find this person?” asked Davis.
“Working on it,” said Robie.
“You said you talked to Sheriff Monda?”
“We did. And with only Pete the blackmailer’s word to go by he’s not touching the Wendells with a ten-foot pole.”
“But you said that Bobby Wendell said this was his father.”
“Yes. But that only gets us so far. And he’ll have lawyered up by now, so no one will be talking to him.”
Davis sat back. “Shit,” he muttered. “You think somethin’s nice and straightforward and then before you know it it’s all twisty-turny like the damn Mississippi River.”
“Huh, who would’a thought life wasn’t black-and-white,” said Moses.
Davis shifted his gaze to her. “Okay, Toni, okay, I get your meanin’ loud and clear.” He looked at Robie. “So what do we do now?”
“The killer is still out there and we have no idea who it is.”
“But what do we do with your daddy?” said Moses.
Davis said, “I’d leave him in jail. He’d be safer there. But—”
“But what?” asked Robie sharply.
Moses answered. “That was the other reason I wanted you to come in. The judge has set bail for your father. And he’s paid it. Which mean he gets out in about twenty minutes.”
Chapter
57
HERE HE COMES,” said Robie.
He and Reel were sitting in their car across the street from the jail.
The door to the jail opened and Taggert appeared there. Right behind her was Dan Robie, presumably wearing the clothes he had been arrested in: chino pants, white shirt, and loafers.
As Robie started to get out of his car, a Volvo roared down the street and screeched to a stop in front of the jail. Victoria jumped out of the car, hurried over to her husband, and wrapped her arms around him.
Observing this, Reel said, “Apparently, you’re not the only one feeling guilty.”
“Apparently,” said Robie as he climbed back into the car and closed the door.
Victoria led her husband over to the Volvo. They got in and she drove off. Taggert went back inside the jail and closed the reinforced door behind her.
Reel said, “So what now? I assume they’re heading back to the Willows.”
“Then so are we,” replied Robie.
“Well, this could get interesting,” remarked Reel.
* * *
By the time they reached the Willows the empty Volvo was parked in front.
Robie and Reel walked up the steps and through the front door.
Priscilla met them in the foyer with Tyler in tow.
“They gone upstairs,” she said.
“I guess they haven’t been able to…” asked Robie.
“Well, man’s been absent from his wife a long while,” said Priscilla primly.
Robie looked up the stairs. When he glanced back he found Reel staring at him. Priscilla had taken Tyler outside.
Robie hurried up the stairs with Reel on his heels.
“Robie, you’re not going to—”
“No, of course I’m not.”
He turned to the left and went to his room, shutting the door behind him. He heard Reel outside the door for a few moments, but then she walked to her room and closed her door.
Robie sat on his bed, his face pointed downward. Then he jumped up and started pacing the room. And then his pacing slowed and then stopped as he arrived at the window. He peered out and once more his mind went back to that night. The last night he would see Laura Barksdale. He had been looking up at this window and had seen her silhouette pass across it. After that, crushed beyond all reckoning, he had climbed back into his car and set off for his new life, alone.
In the ensuing months, he had written to her several times. He had also phoned and left messages.
He had asked why she had not shown up that night. What had kept her from her promises. Then his letters and phone messages had grown angrier. Finally, he had simply stopped writing. Or calling.
He left his room and walked outside, sat in front of a pond, and watched a couple of ducks paddling their way across its surface.
A shadow fell over him about a half hour later.
It was Victoria.
Her hair was damp and she carried the fresh scent of a recent shower. She had on shorts and a tank top. Her feet were bare, her shoulders freckled.
“How’s he doing?” he asked.
“Better now,” she said, a satisfied smile playing over her lips.
“Toni told me he was getting out on bail,” he said, ignoring her look.
“He never should have been locked up in the first place.”
“Well, the case against him was pretty compelling.”
She sat on the ground next to him. “‘Was’? So there are developments?”
“There is reason to hope he’ll get off, yes.”
She searched his face and then looked away.