into a sloping valley. On the opposite hillside, a mile or so away, he could see the lights of two or three farms. “It’s been coming down hard. If the killer had been a little luckier, Darrell here would have been a mound of snow covered up by the plows when they came through.”
“That’s somebody very cool. Somebody who can put it all together fast.”
“Yeah. Or somebody who has fantasized about killing McWhorter so often that when the opportunity arose, she was ready to snatch it.”
“She?”
“Sure. Don’t be a sexist, Mark. You think only men can kill?”
“Hell, no. I’m a married man.”
Russ laughed. The technician waved at them. “We’ve got all we’re going to get,” he shouted. “Tell the medics they can bag him.” Durkee nodded and trudged off through the growing drifts toward the ambulance.
A van was coming up the road, slowing down, then pulling in past the crime scene. CHANNEL 7: LIVE! LATE BREAKING! Russ read on its side. He knew it was fashionable to bash the press, but publicity could be a big assist in a case. There was a reason the FBI fought to keep
He waved Durkee over again. “Mark, as soon as you can wrap this up, I want you to head over to Geoffrey and Karen Burnses’ house and find out where they’ve been this evening. Do they own a gun, all that. Ask to see the inside of their cars. If they give you any problems, call me. We’ll get a warrant tonight, if necessary.”
“Okay. Want me to bring them in for questioning?”
“Go with your gut. You get a reasonable suspicion, go ahead. But remember, these two are the sort to sue the department for false arrest, so make sure you cross your T’s and dot your I’s.”
“Will do, Chief.”
“As soon as I’m done with the TV crew, I’m going to pay a visit to McWhorter’s daughter Kristen. See if after two years, she finally agreed to meet with her dear old dad tonight.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Clare announced when Russ climbed into his truck.
“Congratulations,” he said, tossing his parka in the back. The cab was almost too warm, undoubtedly the result of leaving Clare in possession of the keys.
“I’m going to come with you when you go to talk with Kristen.”
Russ buckled his seatbelt and shifted the pickup into gear. “No, you’re not. I said I’d drop you home, and I will. I didn’t say anything about making you junior deputy. And what makes you think I’m going to talk with Kristen anyway?”
“She’s a logical suspect, isn’t she?”
“So are the Burnses.” He cautiously pulled into the road. The slap of the wipers barely kept up with the pelting snow. “As a matter of fact, they’re the only ones I can think of who had reason to kill both Katie and her father. McWhorter did say he wouldn’t let them have custody of Cody this morning, right?”
Silence. He risked letting his eyes leave the road and glanced over at Clare. She was limned by the dashboard light, arms wrapped around herself, frowning. “What?” he said.
She hummed in the back of her throat.
“What, Clare?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her turn toward him. “I’ve been debating telling you something. I’m not sure if it’s covered by pastoral confidence or not, since it was kind of in a public place. Heck, for all I know, Lois could have overheard it.”
“What?”
“This morning, things seemed to be going well at first. I thought we had convinced McWhorter to release Cody to the Burnses. But then, just like that, he changed his mind. Karen went absolutely wild. She was yelling, ‘I could kill you’ at McWhorter.” Clare hunched her shoulders and sighed.
“They do start to look more and more like couple number one, don’t they?”
“Was McWhorter killed and then dumped?” she asked abruptly.
“Nope. He got out of the car and was shot there on the side of the road.” Flashing yellow lights up ahead. Plows and sanders were out, trying to keep up with the relentless accumulation of snow.
“Why would he be in a car with the Burnses? Where does this road go?”
“Away from town, it heads toward Schuylerville and Saratoga and the Northway. As for why he’d be in the car with them, I’d guess they were making a payoff.”
Clare shook her head. “No. Even if they were going to exchange money for the baby, which would be a complete turnaround from their earlier position, why would they be heading out of town together? McWhorter was . . . not smart, exactly, but crafty. Looking out for himself as well as the main chance. Why agree to go off on a lonely road with someone who’d been screaming she was going to kill him this morning?”
He tried to come up with a reason that made sense. The frustrating feeling that this case was getting more complicated rather than less was creeping up like a fog around his head. It had been a long, hard day, and he wanted to go home and tumble into bed and forget half-frozen corpses and bloody snow and shotgun-toting teens and sisters who cried until their cheeks ran black.
“The Northway—that’s the highway that runs the length of the state, right?”
“Route Eighty-seven, right.”
“That’s how you get to Albany.”
