Meg had a personal interest in Raymond. “Tammy Jerrold and Loraine Dellin also were there.”
“Okay, so I imagine Tammy paired up with the senator as usual. I heard a rumor Loraine left with your brother. Jumping to the bottom line, and I know you won’t answer this, did they have sex?”
“Yes.”
Linda’s eyes widened. She had expected an evasive response. “Loraine had sex with your brother?”
“Yes.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“For a fact. My brother admitted it to the police.”
“Wow! You know she and Towson were once married.” Linda looked at her closely. “Did
“Ah, not sure, I think so. Furthermore, they definitely were seen the day of the murder at a motel. Loraine has admitted that part—unnamed police source.”
“Oh, really!” Linda was then silent for a moment. Her fingers were faintly moving as though already typing. “What we have here is an old-fashioned love triangle and an excellent motive for murder. We haven’t even talked about the age-difference angle; there’s a whole other headline right there. Wow, it’s times like this I wished I worked for a tabloid. Maybe Hollywood will ask me to do the screenplay.”
“Don’t assume too much.”
“Oh, I gotta work all this in somehow. Let’s see, we have a rendezvous at a
Sandy abruptly stood. “Allegedly shot, allegedly! Look, sister, if you’ve already decided my brother is guilty, then we’ve nothing to talk about. You’re sitting there being all nice to me and I started to trust you. What you’re really after is something you can use to show he’s guilty.”
“No, I was just visualizing a sensational headline.” Linda also got up. “Hey, don’t be so touchy. I’m interested only in reporting the truth. But you have to admit your brother is up to his ass in this, and the sex angle just makes it worse. Regardless of what you say, it’ll look like a love triangle with plenty of motive for your brother to knock off the Senator. National TV will have a field day with all this.”
“And you’re going to make certain they don’t miss a thing!”
“No, it’s to my advantage to hold it until I can break the story myself. We’re talking Pulitzer Prize here.”
“Okay, but I told you not to assume too much. They definitely did not have sex a second time, at the motel or elsewhere. One time only after the party. My brother didn’t want any more to do with her.”
“Why were they at the motel if not for sex? Something was going on.'
“Can’t divulge that, not yet. I’d like to find out what Loraine did for the rest of that Saturday.”
“Hold on, I think I have it in my notes.” Linda looked down at the files and papers on the floor around her desk and then thrashed among the papers on her desk. “Here it is. I asked Chief Oehlert if ex-wives aren’t always suspects. Off the record he said that at the time of the murder she claimed she was at the museum.”
“Okay, so that’s her alibi. I’ll check that out if you can dig into Mrs. Crawford.”
“What about your brother? Does he have an alibi for the time of the murder?”
“He left at noon.”
“Sandy, give me some credit for chrissake. He could have gone back up there later that afternoon and shot Towson. Does he have an alibi for the rest of the afternoon?”
“He was driving around trying to see people. I’m investigating his alibi.”
“Okay, go ahead and bullshit me. He has no alibi or you’d be screaming it from the rooftops.” She rolled back her chair. “It’s getting late. Let me buy you a drink. I know a special bar. We can eat there too. You can even dance if you want to.”
“Thanks, Linda, but that’s not me. How about a sandwich and a cup of coffee instead? Someplace we can talk.”
“I’ll settle for that—for the time being. Let’s go, I’m dying to hear about your unnamed police source.” She held the door for Sandy. “We’d better take my pickup. Your car stands out like a Georgia peach in a bushel of Vidalia onions.”
“I’ve heard.”
Linda frowned. “In fact, I think you should hide it. My advice is for you to keep a low profile. Soon the town will take notice of the killer’s sister. They just might direct some of their anger at you.”
“Well then, we better take your pickup. My car is probably rigged for an explosion when I turn the key.”
Linda didn’t smile and that bothered Sandy, surely the town’s hostility can’t be that serious. It was fortunate this influential reporter talked like a friend and seemed to be coming to her side. One of her big worries was the investigation would just drag on and on, and Sandy didn’t have that kind of time.
Linda seemed receptive; maybe right then was the time to take a chance and get things moving. She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and faced Linda. “Look, I can tell you some other things. This is bigger than you think. People you know around town were brought into this. There’s a woman who stands to gain financially from the killing. There’s another person who has been missing since the murder. Trust me, Linda, the investigation is broadening.”
“And you’re the one who’s going to pull it all together. You think you can handle all this stuff by your cute little self?”
“You don’t think I can?”
Linda stared at her for ten seconds and then said, “Sugar, I don’t think there’s anyone who can stop you.”
Chapter 18
That evening, Sandy left Ray’s apartment and walked the three blocks to the corner convenience store for munchies. After the sandwich with Linda, she had worked straight through until after dark doing research with her laptop. Now it was too late to cook even if she had wanted to.
She was pleased with her initial meeting with Linda Call. She had accomplished a crucial part of her purpose. A sympathetic connection with the reporter now seemed possible.
As she came back out of the store, a uniformed cop was standing directly in front leaning against the hood of a red pickup. The truck was large with an oversized bulging grill, an appropriate match for the big and out of shape cop.
“Well, imagine running into you here.” His voice had the smarmy tone of self-importance. “I’m Sergeant Huress, Bobby Huress. I know who you are.”
She remembered Chip’s comment about him. “Bobby Huress, huh? Are you on the Towson case?”
“Well, not officially. I do things for Moran now and then. I want to talk to you.”
“Sure. Too late tonight, though. How about we talk tomorrow?”
“No, it’s important. We could just sit here in my truck for a minute.”
She looked at the sergeant in his uniform, then at his pickup, and then around at the brightly lit parking lot with people going in and out of the store.
“There’s something I can do to help your brother. I’ll explain. It’ll just take a minute.”
He held the truck door open for her. After some hesitation, she slid in.
“Pretty nice huh?” he said.
“What’s that?”
“My truck.” He settled in on the driver’s side. “I understand you want to help your brother, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. To do it all yourself, you'd have to know your way around. You’d have to run around to weird places
