A slight blush rose behind Donaldson’s ear. “I told you, Sergeant, our relationship was purely business.”

“That’s good.” Decker handed him his card. “If you think of anything else, give me a call.”

“I will,” Donaldson said.

Decker turned to him before he crossed the threshold. “Would you mind if I took a look at the records concerning the property?”

Donaldson said, “I would very much.”

“Why?”

“We have a lot of secret and valuable information contained in the Darcy file.”

“What kind of information?”

“If I told you that, Sergeant, I wouldn’t be what I am today—a trusted officer of the corporation.”

“Fine,” Decker said. “Have it your way. I’ll get a court order.”

“For what?”

“Material evidence for a homicide murder.”

Donaldson looked aghast. “That’s ridiculous.”

Decker shrugged helplessly.

“Let me talk to Mr. Cartwright,” Donaldson said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Decker waited a beat, then thanked him again, telling him he’d been most helpful. Donaldson gave him a sour smile in return.

17

Marge spied Decker parked across the street and gave him a wave. She pulled her Honda into Sophi Rawlings’s driveway and sneaked a sidelong glance at Sue Beth Litton. She’d been quiet in the morgue, completely mute on her ride over the hill—a woman shocked into silence.

But there were questions to be asked, and like it or not, Sue Beth needed to hear them.

Marge touched her hand, and Sue Beth jumped. The woman’s face was drawn as pale and tight as a drumskin. In a different situation, she might have been labeled cute, with her thick auburn hair, green eyes, a freckled nose—somewhere in her bloodline was the name O’something. She had very big ears, though. Carla had had big ears. Carla had also had a big nose and flat chest. Sue Beth’s nose was as small as a button; her chest, though not voluminous, was certainly not an ironing board.

Softly, Marge said, “I need to confer with my partner for a moment, Mrs. Litton. You can wait in the car.”

Sue Beth nodded, her eyes directed in her lap.

Marge stepped out of the car and met Decker by the trunk of her Honda. They spoke in hushed tones.

Marge said, “I don’t believe it. You beat us here.”

“Defense asked for a recess for the weekend,” Decker said. “A new PD. Wants to familiarize himself with the case.”

“What happened to the old PD?”

“Damned if I know. I told our woman that I’d be back Monday, giving her moral support. Hopefully, she’ll return as well. One more delay, and I’m afraid she’ll crack.” Decker kicked the ground. “Enough of that. What did you find out?”