some fishing. Commune with nature.' His smile would have melted butter. 'This town looks like a good place for kicking back.'
'Well, you're right about that. The population triples just about every weekend, but particularly in the spring and summer.'
'What's the second-home market like? Is it favoring sellers or buyers?'
'Hell if I'd know,' she said around a smoker's laugh. She dropped her cigarette butt to the pavement and ground it out with the toe of her shoe. 'I can't afford a first home, much less a second.'
'I've seen a lot of For Sale signs around. Green. Little crown.'
'Caroline King. She's the big-shot realtor around here.'
He held a light to her second cigarette. 'A big shot sounds too rich for my blood.'
She exhaled, shaking her head. 'She handles big, small, whatever. Nice lady, too.'
'You've done business with her?'
'Maybe if I won the lottery.' She guffawed. 'I know her to speak to, though. She comes into the bar occasionally. Sometimes with clients to have a glass of wine while talking over a contract. A few weeks ago she had a younger woman with her that she introduced as her daughter. I'd heard her daughter was staying with her for the summer, but that's the first time I'd seen her in town. Ms. King's house is out at the lake. They had some trouble out there last night.'
'Trouble?'
'A shooting.'
He pretended to choke on his smoke.
'Some guy the daughter works with. Love triangle kind of thing is what people are saying.'
'Wow. I thought this was a sleepy little town.'
'We've got our scandals, believe me,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'But you could've knocked me over with a feather when I heard about that business with Ms. King. Neither she nor her daughter looks the type.'
'What type is that?'
'Man-trouble type. But I guess it goes to show you never know what goes on behind closed doors.'
'Isn't that a song?'
She grinned up at him, pleased. 'You like country?'
By the time Dodge had finished his first cigarette and lit another, they'd exhausted the subject of country music, at least to the extent that he knew something about it. Trying to steer the topic back to Caroline, he frowned. 'I guess this realtor will be too busy to take on any new clients, considering the mess her kid is in.'
'I don't know. You can try. Ms. King is a businesswoman right down the line. I heard she made a killing in residential real estate in Houston. She moved to Merritt to retire.'
'When was this?'
'Few years ago. Two or three.'
'Her retirement didn't take?'
She laughed. 'Guess not. She no more had settled in than she linked up with a property developer and--'
'Linked up?' He bobbed his eyebrows. 'One of those closed- doors things?'
Grace nudged his arm, and somehow in the process his elbow made contact with her full bosom. 'Ms. King is at least twenty years older than the developer.'
'That's in fashion, isn't it? Older woman, younger man?'
'Maybe. But he's got a gorgeous wife and three perfect children. His partnership with Ms. King was strictly business. He enlisted her to sell the houses in his development. She sold them all in record time.' Grace shrugged and dropped her second cigarette butt to the asphalt. 'She decided retirement wasn't for her. Not yet, anyway. She's got even richer off all the development going on around here.'
'She must have savvy.'
Grace nodded. 'And she works at it. She's got my respect and everybody else's. At least, I've never heard a bad word said against her. Of course the gossips will be all over what happened out at her place last night.' She glanced at her wristwatch. 'They're gonna think you kidnapped me.' There was a trace of hopefulness in the smile she cast over her shoulder as she reentered the bar.
Dodge took one final drag on his cigarette, then dropped the butt and followed her inside. She'd been so unwittingly generous with information, he felt obliged to buy one more beer, but he didn't finish it before signaling her to tally up his tab.
'How long will you be in town, Dodge?'
He told her the unvarnished truth. 'I don't know.'
'Drop back by.'
'I will.'
'Do you have a wife?'
'Not lately.'
She laughed. 'Are you lying?'
'No.'
She slid a small white card across the bar. 'While you're here, if you need anything--directions, restaurant recommendations, a place to smoke--give me a call.'
Before going into the bar, Dodge had parked parallel on Bowie Street, choosing a metered slot that had a shade tree growing beside it. The shade had helped. Nevertheless, the interior of the rental car felt like an oven when he got in. He cranked the motor so he could turn on the air conditioner.
He lit a cigarette, then took from the pocket of his jacket a slender pink cell telephone. Amanda Lofland's cell telephone. The cell phone she'd been careless enough to leave on the table while they were deeply involved in their conversation. The cell phone Dodge had pilfered while she was blotting her tearful eyes with a soggy Kleenex.
Most criminal investigators followed the money first. Dodge Hanley went after the scorned woman.
He tapped the phone's icon that accessed the log of recent calls and scrolled through it. All her calls yesterday and last night had come from one number. He called it. It was answered with a cheerful, 'Hi, this is Ben, leave a message.'
So, the couple had stayed in close contact yesterday while Ben was with Berry. Which came as somewhat of a disappointment, since it virtually disproved Dodge's theory of looking first at jealous females for possible suspects.
Or maybe not. Maybe Lofland had made all those calls to his wife as overcompensation for cheating on her, in his heart if not with his dick.
In any case, Dodge still considered Amanda Lofland worth looking at.
Next, he scrolled through the cell phone's menu, landing on her directory of contacts.
Sticking with protocol, Dodge entered the house through the back door. Caroline was at the stove stirring the contents of a pot. 'Good. You're back,' she said. 'Dinner's almost ready.'
'What are we having?'
'Spaghetti and meat sauce.'
'One of your specialities.'
