“I know,” I said. “It doesn’t make any sense right now, probably never will.” I debated whether to tell him about the cell phone. Would it be better for him to know now?

If I told him, though, his reaction later might seem more suspicious. Probably best not to say anything so whatever he told the sheriff’s department would be unrehearsed.

Lord, what a mess.

“Do you think my dad, I mean Ezra, killed him? He was so angry earlier.” The expression on Justin’s face was heartbreaking.

Lord, I prayed, please don’t let it be Ezra. Or Julia. I don’t think Justin could take it.

What could I say to the boy now that could possibly comfort him? I had no assurances for him. This would force him to grow up brutally fast.

“I just don’t know,” I finally said.

Before I could say anything else I spotted an arrival in the lobby. “You don’t move from this spot, and ask for more coffee if you need it,” I said. “The EMTs and the sheriff’s deputies are here, and I need to talk to them.”

“Yes, sir,” Justin said. “I won’t go anywhere.”

I had an inspiration. I gave Justin my cell phone. “Call your mother. Ask her to come here as quickly as she can. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I don’t want you to be by yourself.”

Justin nodded. He picked up my phone, examined it for a moment, and then punched in a number.

I left him at the table and braced myself for the coming interview. I had been so concerned for Justin that I hadn’t taken time to alert the hotel staff. The manager on duty, I could see now, was reacting badly to the news of a dead body in her hotel. She handed one of the EMTs a key, and they headed for the elevators with a couple of deputies.

As I neared the front desk, a tall, thin black woman in uniform turned to face me. Her expression was enigmatic, to say the least. She had her hair scraped back into a bun, and she regarded me with cold brown eyes.

“Mr. Harris,” she said, her voice neutral. “You reported this incident.”

“Yes, Deputy Berry, I did.” I stopped a couple of feet away from her.

Kanesha Berry and I had a difficult relationship that stemmed from the fact her mother was my housekeeper. Kanesha had tried, once Aunt Dottie passed away, to get her mother to retire. Azalea paid no attention to her daughter. She wasn’t ready to stop working, and she told me the day I moved into the house that she was going to look after me and she wasn’t about to listen to any arguments.

Since it would take a braver man than I—or a more foolhardy one—to argue with Azalea, I simply smiled and said, “Thank you.”