Crandal said he was used to axle-grease java, anything that didn’t stick to the bottom of the mug seemed weak. Decker poured a cup from the squad-room urn, gave it to the thin-haired detective, and sat back down at his desk. Decker loosened his tie and regarded the sixty-year-old detective. Crandal seemed a little bit more alert today. Maybe because the room was cooler than the canyon had been. Heavy guy like him must melt in the heat. Crandal thanked Decker for the coffee, then pulled out sheaves of paper from a leather-scarred briefcase.

“This is your copy of my notes,” he said. “Read them over, ask me any questions. Just don’t ask me to reinterview them.”

“Why?”

Crandal took another sip. “The old man is just so full of rage it makes you nervous. You wouldn’t think it just by looking at him. I’d say he was about seventy. Squat guy with usual redneck face—tan and full of wrinkles. Got square shoulders for a man his age, back not stooped a whit. But when he talks.” Crandal raised his eyebrows. “Get in his face and he’ll blow you away.”

“Think he blew his kids away?”

“No,” Crandal said. “I don’t think he did. First of all, he arrived at Fall Springs before the Littons did. Got at least a half-dozen people who’ll verify that. So if anyone was suspect, I’d question Sue Beth. Find out if she had anything to gain by the deaths of her brother and sister.”

Same point Marge had made, Decker thought. With Luke and Linda out of the way, Sue Beth stood to inherit everything when Pappy D died. Then he remembered the way she held Katie, taking the little girl into her arms, holding her so tightly, tears streaming down her face…and Linda was the only one who had ever approached Manfred with an interest in selling. Sue Beth just didn’t seem like the type.

A gut feeling, Decker thought, not based on anything factual.

Crandal was talking, “…old guy was minimally cooperative when I asked him the ‘who-what-where’ questions. Actually started to choke up when he talked about his son. But when I attempted to ask him about anything personal that might have caused the murders, he started foaming at the mouth. Especially when he talked about the bloodsucking city slicks from Manfred Corp., and his wicked daughter-in-law.”

“Yeah,” Decker said. “Seems the family didn’t like her too much.”

“Old Pappy claimed she was driving them all to the poorhouse, and Manfred was waiting to swoop down like vultures when she did,” Crandal said. “The old lady didn’t have much to say about Manfred. Anytime I asked her a question, she’d defer to her husband, except when it came to her daughter-in-law. Old lady became livid, said all of it was her fault, because she was the Whore of Babylon.”