“Or…” Decker spoke as he read, “better yet, we’ll…have one…of our…field representatives bring out the diapers directly. Uh, I believe a woman named Marge does the route…. Okay…Okay. Just be sure you fill out the opinion slip for us, you hear?…Nice talking to you too, Mrs. Duralt. Bye now.”

“Whoa!” Marge clapped her hands. “Pretty swift at the confidence game.”

“Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” Decker said. “Inspire confidence?”

“In the abstract.”

Decker said, “Time to turn on the charm, Detective.”

“No problem,” Marge said, smiling. “It’s part of my makeup.”

“By the way,” Decker said, “I had a chance to check out Sue Beth Litton’s account of the day of the murders. Seems three separate people remember talking to Pappy Darcy at least a half hour before the Littons arrived. And the Littons did stop at Montequilla’s restaurant in La Mesa at about the time she said they did. Time frame works. Now the surviving family could have plugged the victims before they left, but it would take pretty good acting on everyone’s part to go to a restaurant after doing something gruesome like that. I spoke to the waitress who served them. They said the family seemed to be having a great time, she served them second helpings of dessert.” Decker shook his head. “I don’t think murder is a good hors d’oeuvre.”

Marge said, “What about Pappy and Granny?”

“According to Crandal,” Decker said, “they arrived before the Littons did.”

“That’s according to Crandal,” Marge said.

“Arrange an interview with the parents,” Decker said. “They should be back at the farm by now.”

Marge said she would.

Decker paused a moment. “No, no, no, I’m not ruling anyone out. But besides the family, we have Byron Howard, his wife, Darlene, a bunch of lunatic bikers, Rolland Mason’s disgruntled girlfriend…” Decker frowned as he thought about it. “I’ve got a three o’clock appointment with Annette Howard. I talked her into meeting me in the city. Alone.” He raised his eyebrows.

Marge stood and gathered her piles of booking slips. She slung her purse over her shoulder and pinched Decker’s cheek. “Turn on the charm, Sergeant.”

He winked and answered, “Part of my makeup.”

Decker was sitting at the counter, on his fourth cup of coffee, when he spotted Annette Howard. Thank goodness for small favors. He’d begun to think that she’d chickened out. She came over and started to sit, but Decker stood up.

“I’ve got us a booth in the back,” he explained. “I was only sitting here so I’d be sure to see you.”

“Counter’s fine,” Annette said. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

Decker smiled. “I like privacy when I’m with a pretty gal. This way.”