“Sure you can. Like she said, it’s all going to be pub-
lic record soon enough. Is Flame Smith in the will?”
Reid thought about it a minute, then threw up his
hands in surrender. “Oh yes. To the tune of half a mil-
lion. Except for a few small bequests, the daughter gets
everything else, which he thought was going to be half
of Harris Farms.”
Dwight leaned back in his chair. “What was Buck Harris
really like, Reid?”
“He was okay. Blunt. To the point. Knew what he
wanted and was willing to pay for it. Expected full value
for his money though.”
178
HARD ROW
“So why would someone take an axe to him like that?”
“Damned if I know.” Reid took a first swallow of
his coffee and grimaced. “Y’all need to let Julia Lee
start buying your coffee beans. This stuff ’s like battery
acid.”
“I doubt if Bo’s budget runs to a coffee grinder and
gourmet beans,” he said, remembering how he used to
look for excuses to drop by the firm of Lee, Stephenson
and Knott, before Deborah ran for the bench. Coffee
was always good for one visit a week and they did have
the best coffee of any office in town.
Not that he was ever there for the coffee.
After Reid left, Dwight phoned Pete Taylor. “I’d ap-
preciate it if you could get Mrs. Harris to come in and
see me this afternoon?”
Taylor promised that he would try.
Down in the detectives’ squad room, he gave out the
day’s assignments as to the lines he wanted pursued and
the people they should interview.
“One thing, boss,” said Denning. “I found a hammer
at the back of the shed. There was blood on the peen
and one strand of hair that I compared with hairs from
the comb in Harris’s bathroom. I’ve sent them both to
the state lab, but the hairs look like a match to me.”
“Which means?”
“He was probably coldcocked over the head with the
hammer first. We’ll have to wait till we find the head to
know for sure.”
As Dwight returned to his office and the rat’s nest of
179
MARGARET MARON
paperwork awaiting his attention, he heard Jamison say,
“Talk to you a minute, Major?”
“Sure. Come on in.”
The deputy followed and closed the door. There was
a troubled look on his round face.
