went on. 'Maybe it was just chance that he came across her on the road that way. Could have been impulse. But chance and impulse don't follow the pattern.'
Tucker let that settle for a minute. There was a pattern, he mused, but he didn't think anybody had put all the lines and checks together just yet. 'I want to get back to that psychiatric stuff. You've got somebody with a grudge against women-maybe because they hated
'That's the idea.'
'Before Darleen, you'd pretty well settled on Austin.'
'He fit the profile,' Burke agreed. 'And after he went after Caroline with a buck knife, it looked rock solid.'
'But unless Austin came back from the dead, he couldn't have killed Darleen.' Tucker shifted in his chair. 'What do you think about heredity, Burke? About blood and genes and bad seeds?'
'Anybody with kids thinks about it some. Anybody with parents, I should say,' he added, and shoved his bowl aside. 'I spent a lot of years wondering if I'd make all the wrong moves the way my father did, push myself into corners or let myself get pushed there, like him.'
'I'm sorry. I should have thought before I asked.'
'No, it was a long time ago. Almost twenty years now. It's better to look to your own kids. That one out there.' He pointed a spoon toward the living room, where his youngest watched Bugs outwit Elmer Fudd. 'He looks like me. I got pictures of myself at his age, and it's almost spooky how much he looks like me.'
'Vernon favors his daddy,' Tucker said. He waited while Burke set his spoon aside. 'It can go deeper than coloring and the shape of a nose, Burke. It can go to personality and tendencies, gestures, habits. I've had reason to think on this because of my own family.' It was something he didn't like to talk about, not even with Burke. 'Dwayne's got the same sickness that killed our father. Maybe he's got a better disposition, but it's there, rooted inside. All I have to do is look in the mirror, or at Dwayne and Josie, and I see our mother. She's stamped right on our faces. And she had a love of books, poetry especially. I got that, too. I didn't ask for it, it's just there.'
'I won't argue that. Marvella's got a way of tilting her head the same way, the same angle as Susie does.
And she's got Susie's stubborn streak-'I want it and I'll find a way to get it.' We pass things on, good and bad, whether we aim to or not.'
'Vernon's not gentle with his wife, any more than Austin was gentle with his.'
'What brought this on, Tucker?'
'You heard about the ruckus at the carnival last night?'
'That young Cy bloodied his brother's nose? Marvella and Bobby Lee were there. Nobody thought it was a shame.'
'Vernon's not a popular man. His daddy wasn't either. They've got the same look about them, in the eyes, Burke.' Tucker kicked back in the chair to stretch his legs. 'My mama bought me this picture book once. A Bible stories book. I remember this one picture. It was of Isaiah or Ezekiel or somebody. One of those prophets who strolled off into the wasteland for forty days to fast and meet the Lord? This was supposed to be a picture of him after he came back spouting prophesies and speaking in tongues. Whatever the hell they did when they'd cooked their brains in the desert. He had this look in his eyes, this wild, rolling look like a weasel gets when he smells chicken feathers. I always wondered why the Lord chose to speak through crazy people. I expect it was because they wouldn't question whatever voice they heard inside their head. Seems to me they might hear something else inside there, too. Something not so full of light and good will.'
Saying nothing, Burke rose to pour more coffee. Burns had said something about voices. About how some serial killers claim to have been told what to do and how to do it. The Son of Sam had claimed his neighbor's dog had ordered him to kill.
For himself, Burke didn't go in for the mystical. He figured David Berkowitz had juggled psychiatry against the law to cop an insanity plea. But Tucker's theory made him uneasy.
'Are you trying to tell me you think Vernon hears voices?'
'I don't know what's inside his head, but I know what I saw in his eyes last night. The same thing I saw in Austin's when he was choking me and calling me by my father's name. That prophet look. If he could have broken Cy in two, he would've done it. And I'd stake Sweetwater against the fact that he'd have considered it holy work.'
'I don't know that he had more than a passing acquaintance with any of the victims other than Edda Lou.'
'This is Innocence. Nobody gets through their life without knowing what there is to know about everybody else. What's that saying about the apple not falling far from the tree? If Austin had it in him to kill, his son might have the same.'
'I'll talk to him.'
Satisfied, Tucker nodded. When the phone rang, they both ignored it. From upstairs, Susie answered it on the second ring. 'You're going to be at Sweetwater tonight, for the fireworks?'
'Unless I want my wife and kids to leave me.'
'Carl, too?'
'No reason for him to stay in town when everybody'll be out at your place. Why?'
Tucker moved his shoulders restlessly. 'A lot of people, a lot of noise and confusion. I'm worried, especially about Josie and Caroline. I'd feel better knowing you and Carl are close.'
'Burke.' Susie came in. She was still in her robe, smelling of her shower with carnation-scented soap. Studying her, Burke thought she looked no more than twenty.
'Was that the office?' he asked her.
'No, it was Delia.' She laid her hand over Tucker's. 'Matthew Burns had Dwayne brought in for questioning.'
If he hadn't been so infuriated, Tucker would have been amused. The idea of Dwayne, soft-hearted, bleary- eyed Dwayne, as a murder suspect was certainly laughable. The fact that his brother had been yanked out of bed and driven into town to be questioned by some smug-faced FBI agent was not.
Struggling with his temper, Tucker walked into the sheriff's office with Burke. He wouldn't lose it, he promised himself. It would suit Burns too well to kick him out. Instead, he flipped his brother a cigarette, then lighted one for himself.
'You getting an early start today, Burns,' Tucker said mildly. 'Guess you forgot today's a national holiday.'
'I'm aware of the date.' Burns stretched his legs behind Burke's desk and kept his hands folded on top. 'I'm also aware that you have a parade scheduled for noon. My business won't interfere with your town's celebrations. Sheriff, I'm told you'll be blocking off the main drag by ten.'
'That's right.'
'I'd like my car moved where I'll be able to get in and out of town as necessary.' Taking out his keys, he set them on the edge of the desk.
Carl saw the flare in Burke's eyes and stepped forward. 'I'll move it on down to Magnolia.' Jingling the keys in his hand, he stopped by Tucker. 'I'm sorry, Tuck. I had orders to bring him in.'
'It's all right, Carl. It shouldn't take long to straighten this out. Heard your girl's going to be twirling today.'
'She's been practicing day and night. Her grand-pappy bought one of those video recorders so he can shoot her whole routine as she marches.'
'I'm sure that's fascinating, Deputy,' Burns put in, 'but we have business to conduct here.' His gaze shifted to Tucker. 'Official business.'
'I'll be sure to watch for her myself, Carl,' Tucker said. He waited until the deputy went out before taking another drag. 'Dwayne, did they read you your rights?'
'Mr. Longstreet isn't under arrest. Yet,' Burns interrupted. 'He's merely being questioned.'
'He's got a right to a lawyer, doesn't he?'
'Naturally.' Burns spread his hands. 'If you're concerned that your rights might be abused, Mr. Longstreet, or
