tooth comb,” Jamison said.
“I thought he did that last night.”
“He did, but you know Denning.”
Dwight nodded. Attention to detail and a willingness
to check and recheck were precisely why he’d promoted
Percy Denning to the job.
He glanced inquiringly at the shabby, unfamiliar car
parked at the edge of the yard.
“Mrs. Samuelson’s got those two migrant women
helping her give the place a good cleaning. They got
here about ten minutes ago,” Richards said. “She ex-
pects Mrs. Harris and her daughter to stay here tomor-
row night. She also seems to think the daughter inherits
this place.”
“She’s right,” said Dwight as he rang the back door-
bell. “At least, that’s what his lawyer told me.”
After a minute or two with no answer, he rang again.
There was another short wait, then Mrs. Samuelson
opened the door with a visible annoyance that was only
slightly tempered by seeing him there instead of the two
deputies again. Today, her white bib apron covered a
230
HARD ROW
short-sleeved maroon dress and it was nowhere near as
crisp as the first time she had talked to them. This apron
had seen some serious action.
“I’m sorry, Major . . . Bryant, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Major Bryant, I’m real busy right now.”
“I’m sure you are, ma’am, but we have a few more
questions for you.”
She started to protest, but then seemed to realize that
it would save time in the long run to capitulate and get it
over with. She held the door open wide for them, “But
please wipe your feet on the mat. We already mopped
the kitchen floor.”
Feeling six years old again, they did as they were told
and followed her into the large kitchen. She invited
them to sit down at the old wooden table, but there
was no offer of coffee or cinnamon rolls today.
“You know what we found out there in that equip-
ment shed yesterday?” Dwight asked.
She nodded, her lips tight.
“That means he was killed by someone familiar with
this place. So I ask you again, Mrs. Samuelson. Who on
this farm thought they had a reason to kill Mr. Harris?”
“And I tell you again, Major Bryant, that I don’t
know. If it’s something to do with the farm, you need to
ask Sid Lomax. If it’s something to do with his personal
life, maybe you need to be asking that Smith woman.
