The Marsh Madness

*

LANCE DROPPED ME outside Walmart, as close to the front door as we could get. With my head held high, I limped in. Small clusters of people did notice my bare feet, not the usual style in chilly early April. I sailed by them and found myself some new stockings, more bandages and pair of low-heeled shoes that looked like they’d be good to run in. It had been that kind of day, and it seemed like the right idea to be prepared.

I waited patiently for Lance’s return in the evening gloom. We were getting closer to finding the man Shelby had been with. I felt that she’d been an accomplice and not the person behind the killing or even the whole charade at Summerlea. Would the kind of person who could plan a murder panic like that?

Shelby was falling apart.


*

LANCE SURVIVED THE apology session at the gallery, but barely. He said, “The cuts on my knees from crawling over broken glass groveling to Poppy are much worse than what happened to your feet. Trust me.”

“Go ahead, rub it in, Lance.”

“I told her that I’d heard what happened and that I’d stepped outside to make a call at the time.”

“Did she ask about me?”

“Oh yes. You’re toast if you ever see her again. But I told her that I didn’t really know you well. Anyway, I don’t think anyone noticed us. They’re all kind of into themselves. Lots of people walked through the door at about the same time. I said you’d attached yourself to me, and I’d thought that was kind of strange, but not a big deal at the time.”

“Good thinking.”

“I said that I thought you’d seemed a bit off. She thought so too.”

“Mmm.”

“I said that’s why I went outside to make the call. Just to put some distance.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I said I really wanted to connect with Shelby because I’d got this weird message from her.”

“Very good!”

“Yeah. Poppy’s furious with Shelby, as well as with you, whoever you are. Almost ruined the big night. So I said that it looked like everything had been cleaned up really well.”

“Had it?”

“Yes. Everyone seemed to have replacement martinis and canapés. I insisted her opening was a triumph. It was painful, but I suggested that it was such a great night it would take more than that to ruin it. I made a big deal about needing to apologize to Shelby too.”

“And she believed you?”

“Better. She gave me Shelby’s parents’ address.”

“What are you waiting for? Let’s do this thing.”

Lance seemed pretty proud of himself as we headed toward this confrontation.

I said, “At least if we find her—”

“Of course we’ll find her. We found her at the gallery, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. But we also blew our cover there.”

“That does make it trickier.”

“She’s probably terrified by now. She’s bound to tell you everything.”

I bit my lip. “I wonder. She was looking pretty ragged. And as you said, nervous. Before she had even seen me she was already jumpy. Guilty conscience. Chadwick was murdered.”

“Maybe she was also scared of the guy driving the car and the people who set up the murder. She’s got something else to be frightened of. She’s an accessory.”

“Worse, she’s a witness. An unstable, terrified witness. She bolted when I called her name. How long do you think she’d hold out in an interrogation room?”

Lance took his eyes off the road to stare at me.

“Watch where you’re driving, Lover Boy.”

“You think she’s in danger?”

“I do, and not only from us.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

“Should we go and confront her? And how do we know she’ll be alone? Maybe the real guilty parties will be there. Why not get rid of us if we go nosing around?”

Lance swallowed hard.


*