Again Cairo disappointed me. He showed not a lick of outward reaction. “Who did you think killed her?”
“A man named Andrew Clein. He worked for the company that constantly harassed her into selling.”
“What happened to this Clein guy?”
“After AgriProspects folded up, he changed his name and fled further than I could reach. I even used the last bit of money I could spare to hire a private investigator and track him down. Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
I frowned. “What do you mean am I sure?”
“I mean, there are a couple of homicidal headcases who made you their single purpose in life. Is the answer staring us in the face, Rain? Is the Letter Man Andrew Clein?”
My head was shaking before he ended the sentence. “You’d have to have met him, and you’d have to read the letters, but the same thought crossed my mind and I dismissed it. The new Letter Man is rough and unhinged, but also enjoying himself. I can sense in his letters that this is a fun game for him.
“Andrew Clein was this nervous, twitchy person. His eyes were always darting around the room, and he spoke every sentence like a question. He’s the kind of guy that takes orders, not action. Besides, he got away with what he did thanks to Sheriff Jack.” I spat the name and title. “What reason would he have to come after me now?”
Cairo leaned against the door. “You really hate my father.”
“I have good reason to!”
“Begs the question, why haven’t you done something about it?” Cairo could’ve been talking about the weather for all his inflection. “I remember you saying you had proof.”
“I do. I have— I have my grandmother,” I said softly. “When I have the money, I’ll have her exhumed and the second autopsy will say the same as the first. I’ll put it in the right hands this time, and they’ll hunt down Clein and the people who told him to kill her.”
“How much money we talking?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
He whistled. “Well, you’re fucking a millionaire’s son now. Let’s say Legend writes you a check tomorrow. Would you do it, Rain? My love, my mate.” A smirk twisted his lips. “Would you have my father thrown in jail?”
I gazed deep in those eerie green pools. “Without losing a wink of sleep.”
Cairo laughed—hearty, rich guffaws pealing from his chest. “A wolf doesn’t mate with a bunny, does he? I should expect no less.”
“You’re not going to stop me?”
“I am going to stop you,” he said clearly. “Because you’re making a mistake. Despite that gift of judging character, you missed that Andrew Clein and my father might as well be twins. Except Sheriff Jack invested in those acting lessons.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s a man who takes orders, not action. Actually, he’s a man who drinks his shame while his son carries out those orders. He didn’t one day get it into his head to cover up the murder of an old woman.” Cairo drifted over my head. I wasn’t sure if his father was still there. I didn’t look to see. “He got that idea from someone else.”
“AgriProspects must have paid him.”
Cairo tossed his head. “He’s got no use for money. Dad doesn’t go anywhere. He doesn’t do anything. He’s been walking in boots he’s had for six years ever since he handed over the keys to this truck. Hardly a man sitting on thousands in hush money.”
“So what?” I snapped. “Someone made him cover up her death and that’s supposed to be okay? He’s the sheriff of this town. If he can be bullied into letting murderers free, then I’m doing everyone a favor seeing him thrown out.”
“Did you not hear what I said? Someone made him cover up your grandmother’s death, and it wasn’t a bribe from a bankrupt company or threats from a nervous, twitchy businessman. You’re not interested in finding out who is really behind this?”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to manipulate me? Spin the facts to suit yourself and protect your father.”
“Why would I do that when I just committed to finding out what happened to your grandmother?”
“I know what happened.”
“And I know my father. He’s not a good or a bad man, he’s a weak one.”
“He just threatened to pin a double homicide on me.”
“Right, of course, you’re only responsible for the one homicide.”
I twisted away, turning my back on him. “I said Jack Sharpe was off-limits. We’re done talking about him.”
His grip was firm but gentle, making me face him. “This is serious, Rain. I’m not denying my father did what he did, I’m saying he couldn’t have done it for the reasons you think. Maybe Andrew Clein isn’t the one sending you letters, but could this guy now be the one giving the orders?”
My expression changed. Now I was listening. “The Letter Man? You’re asking if Clein could’ve killed her on the instructions of another black letter? Why would he, or Cavendish, want to hurt my grandmother?”