quite popular for that, but I think that’s despicable. I surely do hope that’s not what Flake Wilkerson was up to in the Pink House.”
“We were—I mean Jillian was there all day.” Candace looked at me. “You found no sign of a cat massacre, did you?”
I felt sick at the thought.
Ed must have noticed, because he jumped in with, “Hush, Candace. And you, too, Karen. Can’t you see you’re upsetting Miss Jillian? She has a love of animals and you need to respect that.”
I exhaled the air I’d been holding and offered Ed a grateful smile.
Karen said, “I suppose that wasn’t proper talk at the supper table. Please forgive me, Jillian. The last thing I want to do is upset you. Tom has said such nice things about you. Now, time for that icebox pie I made this morning.”
Candace started to clear the table, but Ed held up a hand. “Our job. Just sit.”
After they took the dishes to the kitchen and we were alone, Candace said, “This is driving me crazy. There’s evidence to be collected and we have to waste time being polite.”
“I don’t think that computer is going anywhere,” I said.
“You’re probably right, but I am as edgy as a terrier watching a rat hole.” To prove this, she started gnawing on her pinkie finger.
I was in no hurry. The food was down-home delicious. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had mashed potatoes and gravy. I felt soothed in the presence of this odd couple, whose hospitality and concern were so genuine. I only wished it hadn’t taken a murder to get me out of my house and meeting people in Mercy.
The icebox pie was like nothing I’d ever tasted, rich with lemon cookie pieces, almonds and whipped cream. I was in heaven and, to Candace’s chagrin, I took my time with each bite. She’d eaten hers exactly like she drove her car: way too fast. She refused coffee, and in fear of my life I did, too, though I imagined Karen could make an awesome cup of coffee if the meal we’d had was any indication.
When Ed started to clear the pie plates, Karen waved him off. “Candace is chomping at the bit about something you’ve got in your shop that she sorely wants. You all go on now and I’ll clean up.”
We all stood and I said, “Are you sure? I’d be glad to help.”
Candace’s foot squeezed down on my toes, and it was all I could do not to punch her in the arm in response. But I didn’t. I was forty-one years old, not twelve.
The ride back to the shop was blessedly unhurried since we were following Ed’s truck. The battered, ancient vehicle probably couldn’t do more than forty and, coupled with the leisurely dinner, Ed’s pace was tranquil. I thought Candace might grip the steering wheel so hard her knuckles would snap.
After Ed unlocked the shop and let us in, he said, “Is this about that computer?”
“Yes,” Candace said. “I may be on a day off, but a police officer is always on duty. When Jillian mentioned your find, I thought it best I have a look since the computer could be useful in our investigation.”
Ed had flicked on the lights and was leading us toward the back room. “That proves the point I’ve been trying to make my whole life. Trash can be treasure. We’re a nation of wasters. Throw everything out before it’s served its purpose. And that purpose isn’t always what a thing mighta been made for in the first place.”
I’d never thought about the world quite like that before, but he did have a point.The remnants of the computer were laid out on an old carpet in the office—keyboard cracked in two with all kinds of missing keys sitting alongside what was once a tower. It was mostly shattered and the back was missing. And there was also a mass of circuits, ribbon wires and other pieces that had been rendered nearly unrecognizable by a good smashing.
Candace, hands on her hips, stared down at the mess. “Whoa. Exactly what did you think you could salvage from this, Ed?”
“Don’t know,” said Ed. “That’s the fun of it.”
She took out her cell and punched several keys. When someone on the other end answered, she said, “Sorry to bother you at home, but I might have found some evidence that needs collecting.” She listened for a second and said, “Yes, the Wilkerson case. Which I am
Her cheeks reddened as she listened some more. Then she gave our location and hung up. “The chief’s coming,” she said. “He wants to see for himself.”
Ed said, “The dump’s a mucky place. Let me check if it’s dried out enough—”
Candace grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch it.”
He stopped and gave her a confused look. “But there was some nasty stuff in that dump, and I wouldn’t want you or the chief to get all dirty.”
I said, “That’s okay, Ed. Candace is worried about fingerprints and other stuff you and I probably know nothing about.”
He nodded and smiled. “I get it. If you’re worried about fingerprints, you won’t find mine ’cause I always wear gloves when I pull stuff out of the dump. Heavy-duty ones on account of the rats.”
My skin crawled at the thought.
Candace seemed pleased and said, “Ed is always careful with things. I’ve been here more than once looking for stolen goods, haven’t I, Ed?”
“You and every officer in town,” Ed said. “Hope I sometimes make your job easier.”
“You do indeed.” Candace knelt and stared at what she hoped was the evidence she so desperately wanted. “Wish I understood computers better. Don’t know what if any of this mess will tell us a story.”
“I can call Karen’s boy and ask him to come over. He knows computers inside and out,” Ed said.
“Tom fixed mine up with a wireless network in a hurry,” I agreed.
“We have to leave this to the state computer forensic people,” Candace said.
“If you say so,” Ed said. “But you ask me, Tom’s your best bet.”
She said, “We don’t need—”
I gave the still-crouching Candace a little kick in the butt and said, “I’m certain the police will call on Tom if they need help.” That surely wasn’t true, but Ed had been nothing but kind to us and she didn’t need to be so dismissive.
She stood and looked at me as if to say, “What is wrong with you?”
I almost laughed. I wanted to say, “Payback for the toe crushing,” but instead I said, “Ed seems quite proud of Tom’s skills.”
He smiled broadly. “Been with Karen a while now, and I’ve tried to do right by the both of them. He’s had his share of trouble, mostly thanks to Karen losing her way for a spell, but he’s a fine man.”
We heard the door open and Candace called, “That you, Chief?”
Baca appeared in the office door and nodded at Ed. “Good to see you.” All I got was a hard stare before he focused on the computer wreckage.
Candace started to explain, but he stopped her and began asking Ed questions. After he had the when, why, where and how of Ed’s find, he looked at Candace. “You got your camera and kit?”
You’d have thought Billy Cranor had just asked her on a date. “Got my own kit and camera, so yes, sir.” She was gone in a flash.
Baca turned to me. “You heard about this computer while you were visiting Daphne Wilkerson? Why were you over there?”
I should have known this question was coming, but I was woefully unprepared. I had no fantastic, smooth answer that would satisfy a skeptic like him. I explained how I’d helped her and called Ed for packing material. I finished by saying, “I—I felt like it was the right thing to do—to pay my respects.”
“Really?” Baca said. “And then she asked you to find her packing peanuts? How did you two become so friendly so fast? Because, you know, she didn’t seem the buddy-buddy type to me.”
“She’s had a rough time with her dad,” I said.
“But you two are now fast friends, it would seem,” he said. “Aren’t you the miracle worker? Was Candace over at the Pink House with you?”
Before I could speak, Ed said, “Didn’t see that station wagon Candace races around town in when I was there, Mike. Girl’s gonna get herself hurt one of these days. Drives fast as blue blazes.”
Baca’s narrowed eyes hadn’t left my face, but Candace’s return with the fingerprint kit and camera interrupted whatever he was about to say.
