“We landed an honest-to-gosh real computer job,”Reuben crowed, devouring the homemade pizza Evie had put together for lunch. “Your mayor wannabe is one smart lady.”
“One smartcandidate,” Evie corrected, sprinkling cheese on another round of veggie-covered tomato sauce. “We should aim for a world where gender and race are irrelevant. What does Ward want you to do?”
“Find the trolls posting on her media accounts and bring ’em down. It could be a real career move,” Roark said with more than a trace of cynicism.
Evie pitched a cherry tomato at him. He caught it and popped it into his mouth. “I would love to know how to swat trolls off the internet. They’re as useless as mosquitoes and should be zapped. But this job should also be about making connections with important people. Use it wisely.”
Reuben snorted up his beer. “Dude don’t know wise. They sneer, he blows them up.”
“Larraine won’t sneer at tats and metal, well, except as a fashion statement maybe. And if you blow her up or off, you’re outta here. So behave yourselves for a change.” Evie popped the pizza into the oven and sat down beside Loretta to eat her slice while it was hot.
The landline rang. She considered not answering. Only scammers and fake cops ever called these days. And her mother. With a sigh at the expectant expressions on everyone’s faces, she slid back out of the booth and grabbed the receiver.
“The sheriff finally figured out that Clancy was murdered, dear,” Mavis said with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m supposed to return for questioning. I don’t suppose Jax could go with me?”
Evie covered her mouth and thought three dozen foul words before replying. “I don’t know what Jax is up to right now. I’ll give you his number, and you can set up a time for him to meet you there. Keeping in mind, of course, that he’s not a defense attorney.”
Evie had dug her fingers into the receiver so hard that she figured she’d left dents by the time she’d talked her mother out of hexing poor Troy and hung up.
“We have a backdoor to the sheriff’s computer,” Reuben said. “We’ll get the deets. You don’t worry, okay?”
“Details would be good,” Evie answered absently, but her thoughts had already traveled to city hall. Could she try to talk to Clancy’s ghost again? Had the sheriff found the thumb drive Iddy had planted? Telling him a large person had flung a cat at Clancy, because the cat said so, would not help their credibility.
“It’s Saturday. I should help Mavis at the shop, shouldn’t I?” Taking in the adult mood, Loretta worriedly studied them through too-perceptive eyes.
Crap. Evie ought to be down there now. Weekends were her mother’s busiest days.
“We’ll both go, tadpole. Mavis will need us. Betcha I sell the ugly crystal bug first.” There was no point in worrying the kid. Maybe night was a better time to visit angry ghosts. She’d call Helena about a key—
She turned to R&R. “See if the sheriff has a list of who has keys to city hall, will you?” Someone had let themselves in after hours to wipe that computer, and it hadn’t been Mavis, the technophobe.
* * *
As expected,Jax found nothing in his predecessor’s digital files concerning any contract with DVM or Sovereign. The former county attorney had rightfully left any official business at the courthouse. He glared at his laptop. He should probably get a bigger monitor or go blind reading the fine print.
He’d like to have a client or two first.
He’d sent the most current of Norton’s paper files off with R&R for scanning. He could go back to the cellar and dig through them. The only paper files stored here were from decades prior to the purchase of the voting machines. Not that any of Norton’s papers were likely to contain anything to do with Clancy’s death. There ought to be better ways to waste his time.
He glanced at his watch. He had half an hour before he needed to meet Mavis. He was hoping R&R would come through with more info from the sheriff’s office before he went. What had changed the charge from suicide to murder?
A knock at the door intruded. This was Saturday, not normal business hours. Wondering if Evie was actually playing polite for a change... He laughed at that idiocy and got up to answer the door.
A husky blond man, in an expensive suit that still managed to look rumpled, and a wizened older man, in an unfitted blazer from last century, stood there. The smaller man looked familiar. Jax vowed to learn the locals if he was to build a practice here.
Finally recalling the name of the hardware store owner and newest mayoral candidate, Jax held out his hand to the older man. “Mr. Williams, come in. Hope you’re not pursuing votes. I don’t think I’ve registered here yet.”
“Can’t vote without your South Carolina driver’s license, boy. Register to vote while you’re there.” Hank Williams followed Jax inside, studying the boxes and unfurnished reception area. “George used to have a real pretty secretary in here. And all his golf trophies. Good man.”
The younger, husky man cleared his throat, startling the candidate from his reverie and into introductions. “Ah yes, yes, sorry. This is Theodore Swenson, distribution manager for DVM Machines. We were hoping to catch you in today. Swenson needs to return to his home office on Monday.”
Theodore Swenson? Jax refrained from expressing recognition—or shock—and gestured toward his office. “I’m unfamiliar with DVM, I apologize.” Liar, liar... “But I’ll help in any way I can. My office isn’t ready for business yet, but if you’ll have a seat...”
What was Swenson doing here? He belonged in California. Or if he was touring with his father’s presidential campaign, how did he have time to come to this dinky town?
Swenson had been the salesman who had sold the voting machines to the town.Reuben’s refrain of “Ya Got Trouble” popped in mind. If only times were so innocent that pool tables could be considered trouble...
The bigger man took the big Morris chair as if it were his throne, leaving elderly Williams to a folding chair. Jax sat at his desk with the afternoon sun pouring over his shoulders. He almost chortled at Evie’s cleverness when his visitors had to squint to see him.