Peg looked troubled. “The redhead must have already brought Susan home.”
Gina’s brows drew down in a questioning frown. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would this woman still have the car?”
Jake was aggrieved. “Susan certainly was welcome to drive my car, though I don’t believe the driver the first time was Susan. She was too sick. Besides, Susan wouldn’t let some stranger take my car without even a word to me.”
Price gave her a level look. “We have a great deal to find out, including where Mrs. Flynn was going when she was first stopped and the identity of the red-haired woman who apparently was alone in the car on Persimmon Hill. We’ll hope to make progress tomorrow. If it is agreeable”—he spoke with a calm assumption of acceptance—“Chief Cobb will meet with you here at two o’clock this afternoon. Are there any others who were in contact with Mrs. Flynn yesterday?”
After a moment’s silence, Peg said abruptly, “We had a family dinner last night. My cousin Tucker Satterlee was here and Susan’s husband’s cousin Harrison Hammond and his wife Charlotte.” She looked bleak. “And a friend of mine, Dave Lewis. He’s staying at his brother’s house. Everett Lewis on Peace Pipe Lane.”
Price quickly obtained addresses and phone numbers. “We’ll be in touch with them and”—he glanced at Jake —“with your permission we will include them in the meeting with Chief Price.”
“None of them were here after midnight”—Jake looked puzzled—“but ask them if you want to.”
Gina looked thoughtful. “Detective Price, you said Jake’s car is being fingerprinted and searched. Was that ordered before you came here and discovered Susan’s body?”
“Yes.”
“Is that routine procedure for an abandoned car?”
Price’s cool blue eyes accorded her a quick respect. “Only because of attendant circumstances.”
“Attendant circumstances?” she pressed.
“During Officer Cain’s search for the driver, loud voices were heard, a shouted conversation between a man and a woman. At one point the woman cried, ‘Murder.’ Officer Cain mounted a search, but he was only one man. There are woods and ravines along the road. When reinforcements arrived, the decision was made to speak with Mrs. Flynn since she was earlier seen with the redheaded woman.” He gave a short nod. “Chief Cobb will bring you up to date on the investigation when he meets with you.” He turned to go.
Johnny moved forward. “Sir, Miss Satterlee earlier asked to make a telephone call. Is it all right for her to do so now?”
Price turned toward Gina. “Miss Satterlee, thank you for helping us follow procedure. Certainly at this time you are free to make any calls you wish.” He looked at Johnny. “I’d like a word with you, Officer.” Price jerked his head toward the hall.
The two men stepped into the foyer, moved out of vision of the living room. A low murmur sounded.
I moved to the foyer and hovered above Detective Sergeant Price and Johnny Cain.
Price spoke softly to Johnny. “Keep talking. Repeat the story about stopping the car.” Price edged nearer the doorway, head cocked, listening.
I, too, was curious about Gina’s call. I returned to the living room.
“Throw me your cell, Jake.” Gina held out her hand.
Jake fished in her purse. “Should you call Tucker this late?” She tossed the phone.
Gina caught the small pink plastic oblong. She didn’t answer. She flipped up the lid, punched a number.
“I suppose I’d better call Harrison when you finish.” Jake sounded desperately weary.
I perched on the broad arm of the sofa quite close to Gina, close enough to see the dark shadows beneath her eyes, the stiffness of her face, the tight set of her shoulders. She took a deep breath. “Tucker…”
I popped to Burnt Creek.
CHAPTER TEN
A dim glow marked a second-story window in the frame Victorian ranch house.
Tucker Satterlee, groggy with sleep, held a portable phone as he swung over the edge of the bed. His dark curls were tangled. He blinked sleepily. The low-wattage light from the lamp on the bedside table was flattering to the slender young woman clutching a sheet to her bare shoulders. “Who’s calling? What’s happened?” Her voice was shrill.
Tucker waved her to be quiet. He reached for a wool robe, stood and pulled it on. “Susan?…Yeah. Oh, hey.” He looked somber. “I’m sorry…” His face changed, brown eyes narrowing, bony features taut. “Smothered? That’s crazy…”
The woman gave a tiny gasp.
A wary look crossed his face. He spoke slowly. “I picked up Lorraine around ten. We went over to Firelake Casino to play the slots and have a couple of drinks. Then we came out here.” A muscle twitched in one jaw. “Lorraine can vouch for me if somebody saw Susan at midnight. But I can’t believe she was out chasing around Pontotoc County with some unknown redhead. Why do you want to know where I was?” His tone was sardonic. “Oh, sure. You called to ask where I was when somebody smothered Susan. Always nice when your sister asks you for an alibi. Anyway, you can cross me off any list of suspects.” His eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are the suspects?…Yeah. I guess so. All right. Two o’clock. Yeah. I’ll be there.” He clicked off the phone, turned to Lorraine, his face grim. “A bad deal. Susan’s dead. They found her tonight lying on the floor of her bedroom, a pillow over her face. The cops say it’s murder.” His face was abruptly hard. “I don’t know what will happen now.”
Nor did I. I was only sure—and pleased—that a stealthy killer’s plans had been disrupted and there would be more shocks to come.
