The chief’s face was bland. “I understand. Some people are natural leaders.”
“Daryl was always in charge.” There was more sadness than admiration in her voice, and her eyes were empty. She drew her breath in sharply. “I have to find Kirby, tell him what’s happened.” She pushed to her feet.
Chief Cobb rose, too, looked around the living room. “Do you expect him home soon?”
Her hands came together, locked in a tight grip. “He’s staying at a friend’s house.”
The chief ’s eyes glinted. “Where?”
She struggled for breath. “I don’t know exactly. I’ll be able to find him.”
Ca ro ly n H a rt
“You don’t know where he’s staying?” He raised an eyebrow.
Judith made no answer, looked away.
Chief Cobb rocked back on his heels, his face thoughtful. “When did he move out?”
Tears welled, spilled down her cheeks. Judith wrapped her arms tight across her chest. “Two weeks ago. He’s nineteen and—” She broke off, looked worn and hopeless and bereft.
Chief Cobb’s eyes were sympathetic, but the question was firm.
“Were your son and his father estranged?” She flung out her hands, looked at him earnestly. “It wasn’t serious. Things would have worked out.” Her tone was hollow. “It was about a girl. Daryl didn’t like her. But Kirby wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Ever. He’ll be very upset when I tell him. He and his daddy had so much fun when he was little, camping and fishing and hunting.”
. . .
I wondered if Judith realized the implication of her words. Father and son were close when Kirby was a little boy, ready to do what his father wished. Now Kirby was big and wanted to make his own choices . . .
Cobb’s eyes were intent. “What’s the girl’s name?”
“Lily Mendoza. She’s a waitress at the Green Door.” Chief Cobb nodded. “Is Kirby in school?”
“He’s a senior. Daryl wants—wanted him—to apply to OU, but Kirby wanted to stay here, go to Goddard.” Goddard is a wonderful regional college and the pride of Adelaide. I wondered if Daryl wanted his son to attend OU to get him away from what he saw as an undesirable romance.
“Well”—the chief’s tone was genial—“don’t worry, we’ll find him for you. Who are some of your son’s friends?” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket.
G h o s t at Wo r k
Judith rattled off names. “Bob Harris, Al Schuster, Ted Minter.
I’ll call them, try to find Kirby.”
Chief Cobb said easily, “We’ll get in touch with Kirby. Now, it will be helpful to know something about Mr. Murdoch’s daily routine.” She answered quickly, eager to leave behind discussion of her son.
“Daryl jogs . . .” A quick breath. “. . . jogged around six. After he showered and shaved, he went downtown for breakfast at Lulu’s. He opened the office at nine.” She looked inquiringly at Chief Cobb.
He nodded. “Murdoch Investments. Used to be Murdoch and Carey.”
“He was here and there during the day, in and out of his office.” She talked fast. “Daryl was on the vestry at St. Mildred’s. That took a lot of his time. He often dropped by the church on his way home.” Chief Cobb made notes. “Was there any change in your husband’s behavior in recent days? Was he worried about anything? Did he mention any concerns? Or fears?”
Judith frowned. “He was mad about something at the church.”
“The church.” The chief’s voice had a curious tone. “That’s where we found his car. If you don’t mind, we’d like to take a closer look at it in daylight, though there didn’t seem to be anything helpful when we checked it tonight. We’ll return the keys in the morning. Why did he go to the church this evening?” He held the pen poised over the pad.
I felt uneasy. Another link to St. Mildred’s.
She stared down at the rug. “I don’t know.”
“He didn’t tell you?” His voice was faintly surprised.
Judith’s face tightened. “No.” She spoke without expression.
Judith Murdoch’s every word revealed more than she probably realized. She might as well have worn a placard announcing failed marriage.
The chief tapped the pen on the pad. “What was his schedule this afternoon?”
Ca ro ly n H a rt
Judith turned up her hands, work-roughened hands. “I never knew.” There was a world of emptiness in her voice. “I mean . . .” She struggled for composure. “Daryl didn’t like to be pinned down.” She stared at the floor.
“Where were you from four o’clock on?” His tone was matter-of-fact, but his gaze was sharp.
