McLamb hopped out to hold the door for her. She
handed him her umbrella and waited for him to open it.
“Mrs. Stone—”
191
MARGARET MARON
“I told you. I can’t be late today!” she snapped and
hurried inside.
“You didn’t ask for her alibi,” Dalton said, handing
him some paper towels to mop the worst of the rain
from his jacket.
“Yeah, I know. Looks like we have to catch her this
evening after all.”
From Mrs. Stone’s place of work to Sunset Meadows
Rest Home at the southern edge of Black Creek was
just over ten minutes and Dalton parked the car as close
as he could get it to the wide porch that ran the full
width of the building.
“Here’s good,” said McLamb. A slender man of
medium height, he prided himself on staying in shape
and usually looked for opportunities to take a few extra
steps, but not when it was raining this hard. His navy
blue nylon jacket had COLLETON CO. SHERIFF’S DEPT.
stenciled in white on the back and he pulled the hood
low over his face before making a dash for it.
Dalton followed close behind in an identical jacket.
Younger and chunkier than McLamb, at twenty-four, he
was still kid enough to be excited by his recent promo-
tion to the detective squad. “Provisional promotion,”
he reminded himself as he took a good look at the facil-
ity accused of letting one of its patients wander off to
drown back before Christmas.
“Don’t just look at what’s there,” McLamb had told
him on the drive out. “Look at what’s not there, too.”
Although certified and licensed by the state, the nursing
home had begun as a mom-and-pop operation and was
192
HARD ROW
a drab place at best. Built of cinder blocks, the utilitarian
beige exterior was at least three years overdue for a new
coat of paint. The shades and curtains looked sun-faded,
and the uninspired shrubs that lined the porch needed
work, too. Cutting them back to waist height would make
them bush up at the base and would also allow anyone
standing at the doorway an unobstructed view of the park-
ing lot. As it was, the privet hedge was so tall and strag-
gly that a casual observer might overlook someone leaving
without authorization, especially if it was getting on for
dark on one of the shortest days of the year.
The porch was a ten-foot-wide concrete slab set flush
with both the paved entrance walk and the sills of the
