'Somebody hired you?' J. George said.
'Fortunately, yes,' I said. 'Can either of you help me at all?'
'Do you have a gun?' the blonde asked. Somehow she made it sound as if she were asking something intimate.
I smiled at her. The big smile, the kind that would make her mature thighs ripple.
'Are you Mrs. Taylor?' I said.
'Yes, I'm sorry, and this is my husband, George.'
J. George nodded like a guy accepting an award. Either he had more stamina than he showed, or she fooled around. I glanced at her again. She had her lips open slightly. She touched the bottom one with the tip of her tongue. Probably both.
'I can't think of anything we could tell you about Steve,' Taylor said.
'You knew him,' I said.
'Oh sure thing,' J. George said. 'My business you get to know pretty much everybody in town.'
'Our business, dear.'
J. George laughed. Jolly.
'Bebe doesn't let you get away with anything,' he said.
'I can see that,' I said.
Flattering Bebe held promise. 'What kind of a guy was Buckman?'
'Steve was a peach,' Bebe said. 'Wasn't he, George?'
'A peach of a guy,' J. George said. 'Organized the kids around here into a Pop Warner league.'
'I didn't know the town had enough kids for that,' I said.
'Six-man football,' J. George said.
'Did you ever play football, Mr. Spenser?' Bebe asked.
'Long time ago, Mrs. Taylor-you know, leather helmets and high-tops.'
'What position did you play?'
'Strong safety,' I said.
'I'm not surprised,' she said, and ran the tip of her tongue along her lower lip.
My guess was she didn't know strong safety from traffic safety, but she recognized the word strong. I was glad I hadn't played weak side linebacker.
'So Buckman was active in the community,' I said, just to be saying something.
Bebe smiled, as if she knew a joke she wasn't sharing.
'Great guy,' J. George said. 'It's a real tragedy what happened.'
'What did happen?' I said.
'Well,' J. George said, 'you know, he got shot.'
'Yes.'
'Well that's all we know.'
'No idea who shot him?'
'No,' J. George said quickly, 'of course not.'
'He have any enemies?' I said.
'No,' J. George said. 'None. Not that I know of.'
'How'd he get along with the Dell?' I said.
'Dell? I'm sure I don't know,' J. George said.
'I heard they extort money from town businesses and Steve wouldn't pay.'
'I don't know anything about that,' J. George said.
He was getting less jolly with every question.
'They ask you to donate?' I said.
'No,' J. George said. `Absolutely not.'
I looked at Bebe. She was watching the two of us, her mouth ajar, her lower lip tucked slightly under, the tip of her tongue resting on it.
'You know anything about that?' I said to her.
She seemed startled.
'About…?'
