“Really?”
“Okay, and asking a few questions, too. Making himself available in case somebody takes to heart what the preacher was saying.” He glanced over to where two laborers from the funeral home were shoveling dirt. “You ever been to New Orleans?”
“That’s an odd question.”
“I was just thinking about the difference in water tables. How they have to bury their dead above ground. Not like here.” He shook his head. “Going to be hard keeping developers out of this place. Too much high ground over here.”
It looked pretty flat to me, but I suppose these things are relative.
We were standing at the edge of the crowd, two virtual outsiders. As long as we were alone, I felt free to say, “From what the sons are asking, I gather that there’s been no progress toward finding Andy’s killer?”
“Wouldn’t say that exactly. We’ve been up and down the island asking questions, especially houses on the sound side. People can be right vague about what they’ve seen.”
“But somebody did see something?”
He rubbed his chin. “Now, Judge.”
As we spoke, his denim-blue eyes roved the crowd and he nodded courteously whenever anyone made eye contact. “You’re staying in that little yellow house behind Clarence Willis, right?”
“Yes. It belongs to my cousins.”
“They ever have anything stolen?”
“Not that I—well, maybe a couple of spinner reels. A tape player, stuff like that.”
“He file a report?”
“No. He figured he knew who took it and it was never all that much.”
“Mickey Mantle Davis, hmm?”
“He did use to be right bad for taking stuff that wasn’t nailed down,” I admitted.
“Still is,” said Smith with a slow smile that told me he’d heard about a hand puppet accusing Mickey Mantle of bicycle theft.
“But that’s from off-islanders, and once my cousins got some decent window locks, it pretty much stopped. Mickey Mantle would never bust a window on them.”
“How long you known the Winberrys?” he asked abruptly.
“You
“Just wondering. Somebody said you went to a party with them the other night. I guess judges hang out a lot together though.”
“No more than sheriff’s deputies,” I said.
As if to disprove my point, Chet picked that minute to walk over and ask if I’d like to ride in to Beaufort with them for dinner. “One of us could run you back across by boat later.”
“Thanks, Chet, but it looks like rain and I think I’ll make it an early night tonight,” I told him.
As he walked away to collect Barbara Jean, who seemed to be having a strategy meeting with several of her colleagues, I saw that Quig Smith was smiling again.
“What?” I asked.
“Just thinking about late nights and such. How well you know Kidd Chapin?”
I grinned. “More to the point, Detective Smith, how well do you know him?”
“He’s a catbird, ol’ Kidd. But I’ll say this for him: he’s a fine lawman. Real big on conservation, too.” He gave me a considering look. “I bet you’re not married either.”
“That’s it,” I laughed and turned toward my car, but Smith fell in step beside me.
“The first road through the island was paved with seashells,” he confided. “You wouldn’t believe the pile of shells used to be off Shell Point.”
“Where Indians used to come to the island every spring and pig out on oysters and clams,” I said. “I know. I’ve heard the stories.”
“They say there were so many shells it was like they were trying to build a causeway out to the cape.” He kicked at the pavement consideringly. “Been better off to’ve kept this road in shells. Runoff from asphalt’s something awful. We ought to pass a law that for every twenty-five parking spaces, parking lots’ve got to have at least one deciduous tree. Because even if it’s clean rainwater—which it never is—too much fresh water can be just as bad for estuarine life as polluted water.”
“Well,” I said heartily when we reached my car, “it’s certainly been nice talking to you and—”
He leaned closer. “Kidd said if I saw you to ask if you like black olives or green peppers on your pizza.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Kidd said—”
“No,” I interrupted. “I heard that part. You tell Officer Chapin that I said No way, Jose.”
Smith rubbed his chin dubiously. “Well, I’ll tell him, but you know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”
