The Lawrenceton police force, in the form of Detective Suit and Detective Trumble, had arrived. They were on the lawn talking to Finch. Their eyes swiveled toward me as I approached.
“How’s the hand, Roe?” Levon was trying to suppress a smile. He seemed quietly jubilant.
“I’d like to go home and put some ice on it. Can we leave?”
“We’ll come by to talk to you tomorrow,” Cathy said. She looked oddly wired—very tense, but with an undertone of the same muted elation. “We got a call from Rick Morrison, whose toolshed got broken into … the break-in Ford Harrison was arrested for, the one he was out on bail for.” She grinned, and it was terrifying. “Turns out Ford had spotted the lock was easy to break while he was installing Rick’s security system. Do you know what else was in the shed, an item Rick maintains he had completely forgotten until the shootings?”
“No,” I said. My brain was not exactly working at top speed.
“A rifle,” Cathy said. “Almost surely the rifle we recovered from my nephew at the scene of the hospital shootings.”
I gaped at her. “No wonder Ford didn’t want Virginia to call the police,” I said. “That was the night of the party shooting, right? He must have suspected the rifle he’d sold to your nephew was the rifle used.”
“I am going to nail his ass to the wall,” Cathy said. “Tell me the truth. Did you know Virginia was here when you came here with Father Scott?”
“Absolutely not. Aubrey brought me here for some kind of mercy visit.” I glanced over at my priest, who was standing in the doorway talking to Marcy Mitchell. He had certainly gotten more than he’d bargained for. “I was glad to see she was alive, but I was mad, too, because everyone was looking for her,” I said. That was a condensation of my feelings about Virginia. I felt she’d done her best to shield Sophie and me under the circumstances, but then I’d veer into exasperation at her poor choice of male friend, at her letting him talk her into doing dumb things.
“Virginia tells us she doesn’t know who killed the Beal woman,” Levon said.
“It would sure be nice if she did,” I said.
They both nodded. “Well, if I can go, Robin and I are headed home.”
Aubrey intercepted me on my way to the car. Robin, who’d been buckling Sophie in her car seat, glared at Aubrey’s back.
“The last rites for Tracy Beal will be tomorrow at Memorial Funeral Home, in Anders.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Aubrey, you don’t really expect me to go?” I was incredulous. “That would be bizarre. And inappropriate.”
Aubrey looked disconcerted. Then he said, “I understand. I got carried away with my own interior quest.”
I raised my eyebrows inquiringly.
“My constant attempt to forgive the people who hurt Liza. You got the side effect of my overzealousness. I’m sorry bringing you here today turned out to be such a…” He stopped, at a loss for words about what the incident had become.
“Revelation,” I suggested. “Ordeal. Fiasco. Take your pick. I know you had a good motive, Aubrey. But it sure backfired pretty spectacularly.”
“Again, I’m really sorry—”
I rolled right over him. I felt entitled. “I know you couldn’t have foreseen Virginia would be safe and sound in her mother’s house, or that she would want to get everything off her conscience. It’s a step forward, knowing she’s safe.”
Aubrey looked relieved, but I didn’t want to talk to him any more. Once again, I started toward Robin’s car. This time, Finch intercepted me, with Levon and Cathy trailing him. What now?
“Have you heard from the hospital?” I asked. “I guess I didn’t crack Ford’s skull with my mighty blow?”
“You did not cause any permanent damage,” Finch told me, with a straight face. “I’m going to talk to the guys sharing his apartment, and your Lawrenceton cop buddies are coming with me.”
“Will Virginia be charged with anything?” But the law enforcement personnel of Georgia had reached an end of tolerance with me.
“We’ll let you know when we need to,” Cathy said, her face all squinched up and disapproving.
I’d clearly been put in my place, which didn’t bother me at all. At last I got to walk away without anyone stopping me. We drove out of Truman, half-expecting someone to come after us.
Robin said, very slowly, “Tracy always knew where I was going to be, before. If the e-mails I got, the strange ones, were from her, she had access to the Internet. If she had access to the Internet, she’d know we’d gotten married. And she’d know about the Anthony nomination. She could find out from the attendees list that I would be at Bouchercon.”
“Why would she sneak into our house, if she knew you were going to be gone?” When I considered possible answers, every one of them was terrifying. “Maybe…” I faltered. “Maybe she thought she’d clear the deck while you were out of the picture? Get rid of your old wife to make way for the new … who would be her.”
Robin focused extra hard on the road ahead of us. His mouth was set in a grim line. Finally he said, “Maybe she didn’t know we’d had a baby.” Robin glanced over at me.
“I didn’t put a birth announcement in the paper. I figured anyone who cared about us would know about Sophie.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There were too many things we didn’t know about Tracy’s visit. We were lost in our own thoughts until Robin parked in our driveway.
Phillip threw open the door of his room when we carried Sophie into the house.
“So what’s happened?” he said. “Where’s Virginia? She okay?”
I told him the whole story. Phillip was delighted I’d hit a man. “You go, Sis,” he said, giving me a high five.
“Don’t encourage her,” Robin called, as he emerged from Sophie’s room empty-armed.
“Okay.” Phillip laughed. “So you’re all right, Virginia’s not hurt, and we know how she left that night, and why. Wait. Why?”
“Her boyfriend, this Ford Harrison, had been in jail for something pretty minor,” I began. “And he came here to talk to Virginia, his former girlfriend. He wanted her to come back to him. When Virginia found Tracy’s body, Ford believed if he came to police attention they’d somehow find out that a rifle was in with the tools he’d stolen—which they did. Not magically, but because the toolshed owner has a conscience.”
“And?” Phillip was impatient. “So what?”
“They really wanted to find out who’d sold a rifle to an underage kid like Duncan.”
“Wow,” Phillip said. “He didn’t steal it from his dad after all. This Ford guy sold it to him?”
“Apparently. So Ford absolutely didn’t want to come to the attention of the cops.”
Phillip shook his head. “Stupid thinking.”
“I agree. He got Virginia in a world of trouble because he was selfish.”
“All right,” Phillip said, dismissing Virginia and her problems. “So I’m thinking I can have Sarah over tomorrow night? And maybe Josh and Holly Maxwell? And Joss and Kay Duval?”
“If their parents are all okay with them coming over here,” I said. “We’re not completely free of this situation. Tracy’s murderer hasn’t been caught. Not that I think he’ll come back or anything, but still.”