“Denville,” Cyrus King said curtly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came out here to get a comment from you and your wife concerning the tragedy of your son’s death. And to get your explanation of why you squelched the sale of the land to Lola Jor Dan. She’s not a lady you want to make an enemy of. I think you might have done that.”

Years ago, Cyrus King had been a dashing hunk of a football player, with girls fawning all over him, according to Larry’s father. His father also said he was dumb as dirt when it came to books but hell on wheels when it came to partying and sleeping with other people’s wives or girlfriends. His father had gone on to say he’d been arrogant, selfish, and downright disrespectful of everything and anything and only concerned with the good life. He’d managed to get himself thrown out of five colleges before he settled down, married Maxine Columbus, and went to work in his father’s glove factory. The threat of being disinherited had worked wonders. Or so said his father.

“My wife and I really don’t have anything to say to you, Mr. Denville. The past is behind us. We can’t undo what happened. Our son is gone. Why do you people have to dredge it up over and over again? As for the land, it was appraised at far more than Miss Jor Dan’s offer. Yes, the town could use the money, but we can’t kowtow to her celebrity. Let her go make her movie somewhere else. That’s all I have to say on the matter.”

“Mr. Denville said Cady Jordan might sue us, Cyrus,” Maxine said. “He said we made some strong statements and accusations.”

“Don’t you mean you made some strong accusations and statements, dear?”

“I didn’t say accusations, Mrs. King. I said strong statements,” Denville hastened to clarify.

All of a sudden, the pompous Cyrus King looked like he’d been hit with a Mack truck. He seemed to deflate right in front of the reporter’s eyes. His wife looked smug. “She won’t sue us, will she, dear?”

I just missed something, Denville thought. What the hell did I miss. “That’s it? That’s all you care to say?”

“My husband and I will sue if that movie star portrays our son as a bully. You can quote me on that.”

“I will, of course. However, if others come forward and attest to having had run-ins with your son and will swear he was a bully, then he’s going to be a bully in the movie.”

“Cyrus, tell this man we mean business. I will not tolerate this, do you hear me?” Her voice was so shrill, Larry felt the urge to clamp his hands over his ears.

“Half of Indigo Valley can hear you, Maxine. No one is going to sue anyone. Good-bye, Mr. Denville.”

Denville wished he could become invisible and follow the couple into the house. Oh, to be a fly on the wall. He knew in his reporter’s gut he’d missed something. Maybe it wasn’t words but looks or a movement. Something. Cyrus King said there would be no lawsuits. Maxine King said there would be. If he was a betting man, he’d bet on Maxine King. It was obvious to him that Maxine King ruled the house, and Cyrus King did exactly what she said when she said it. How, he wondered, had that happened, given what his father had told him about Cyrus. He shrugged as he made his way back to his car. He knew they were watching him from the window, so he put on his own show for their benefit by taking his recorder out of his breast pocket and putting it up to his ear. Then he made some notes on a pad he kept in the car before he drove off.