“
“Three if you count the attempt on Judge Fitzhume’s life. Not that the police care. Far as they’re concerned, this is an easy clearance. Case closed.”
“I’m with the police,” the girl said, her cheeks flushed with emotion. “Who cares why he did it?”
“Judge Knott cares,” Hank said quietly as he handed Mel the black vinyl check holders for her table.
“Why? Kyle’s no loss to the world and that judge isn’t either. If it wasn’t Kyle, then it has to be one of you guys.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” I said. “There’s someone here in Wilmington with a huge grudge against Judge Jeffreys. He was at the restaurant next door and he could have been waiting for Jeffreys to leave. I’m betting that my friend—the one that got run down—saw them together. His memory’s still shaky, but I’m going to walk him through every minute of Saturday night. The police may not be interested now, but if he remembers someone besides Kyle, they’ll have to take another look and Kyle will be cleared.”
“I don’t give a flying flip about clearing Kyle,” Mel said. “He was a total jerk.”
As she got back to work, Hank said, “Don’t mind her. She and Kyle never got along from day one. So did you want a table? Or are you joining some friends?”
I surveyed the room again and shook my head. “I don’t see a soul I know.”
“I can give you a table by the Riverwalk, and we’ve got an oyster po’boy special tonight,” he said in a voice that would have tempted Eve to eat the apple.
I laughed. “Sold!”
He seated me at the far edge of the porch and sent a different waitress over. As dusk settled over the Riverwalk, candles flickered in cut-glass holders on every table. I relaxed and ordered a glass of wine to go with my po’boy, then called my home number. My own voice answered after five rings. “Dwight? It’s me,” I said. “I thought you guys would be back by now. Call me when you get in, I don’t care how late it is.”
The oysters arrived, crisp and sizzling on a toasted buttery roll and soft Bibb lettuce. As I ate, I noticed that there was another unaccompanied woman seated several tables away. Amid the chattering groups, she read a newspaper as she ate, the single woman’s shield when eating out alone. I’m usually too interested in observing my fellow diners to keep my eyes on a printed page, but tonight I couldn’t quit thinking about why Pete Jeffreys had been killed.
If I was right, if it was because of a tragedy his judicial ruling had caused, then maybe he did deserve to die. As someone sworn to uphold the law, I can’t condone it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t understand the primal desire for revenge—that old reptilian brain stem reflex: an eye for an eye, a life for a life. You hurt me, I’ll hurt you.
But poor self-centered, unfulfilled Kyle? Maybe he wasn’t much of a loss to the world, but he didn’t deserve to die as a by-product of someone else’s revenge.
Nor did Fitz deserve to be tossed like a matador to land on the pavement with broken bones and injuries that would probably give him pain for the rest of his life, pain that would impact on the retirement he and Martha had earned.
How it would all play out, I couldn’t tell. Dwight would not be happy with me if he learned that I’d put myself in the middle of a murder investigation, but if all went as planned, the killer would be booked and behind bars before Dwight got down here tomorrow and he would never have to know.
Look, it’s not in the marriage vows that husbands and wives have to tell each other every little thing, is it?
I picked the oysters off the roll, drank the last of my wine and signaled to the waitress that I was ready for my check. When she brought me the check holder, I tucked a couple of bills inside and told her to keep the change.
“The conference adjourns at noon tomorrow so I guess I won’t see you again,” I said to Mel, who had come up to me now that I was leaving. She seemed to have gotten over her huff. “Where’s Hank? I’d like to say goodbye.”
“He got a phone call and said he had to leave early so I’m stuck with closing out the register for him. I’ll tell him you said ’bye.”
“Have y’all been together long?” I asked as we crossed the room to the vestibule and the reception stand.
“Oh, we’re not together,” she said. “Not like you mean. We’re both majoring in hotel management at UNCG and we’re wicked good friends, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
At the reception stand, I stopped short, struck by a sudden thought, and looked at her as she rang up a charge on the cash register. “You knew him, didn’t you?”
“Knew who?”
“Judge Jeffreys. You said he wasn’t a loss to the world. How would you know?”
For a fleeting moment Mel Garrett looked like an apprehensive schoolgirl and not the hard-edged, foul-mouthed sophisticate, and it confirmed my guess.
“You go to school in Greensboro where he held court, so you did know who he was. What did he do to you?”
“You’re crazy!” she snarled, all her defenses back in place. “Go play detective somewhere else, okay?”
She whirled and stalked off past the bar to the kitchen beyond, and I knew it would be useless to go after her.
“
