alone. As the haunting strains of “Amazing Grace” filled the church, Peg Flynn sang until she stopped to stifle a sob. Of them all, only Peg seemed to care about Susan’s grandson. Gina Satterlee’s narrow face was pale and drawn, her gaze distant. Susan’s death meant she now could afford extravagant shopping. Tucker Satterlee appeared grim. Occasionally he glanced at his sister. Harrison Hammond followed the program and engaged in the proper responses, but he avoided glancing toward the pall-covered casket. If Susan had lived one more day, his financial doom would have been sealed. A teary Charlotte wiped at her eyes. With the news of Kim Weaver’s murder, did she wonder where her husband was last night?
As the bells tolled, I knew the murderer must feel confident.
There might be a way to shake that confidence.
Leon Butler stopped in front of me, nodded gravely. “I found your note.” His face was perhaps a shade thoughtful. “Guess I must have left my truck unlocked.”
“That was such a bit of luck.” My tone was innocent. “I hope you didn’t mind my using a receipt from your dash compartment for paper. I left my purse in the trunk of my car. I didn’t have anything to write on.” I patted my pocket, implying a set of car keys within. “Thank you for meeting me. I don’t know whether the police told you that Susan’s new will is missing.”
His mouth drew down in a dark frown. “No, ma’am. Sam Cobb wanted to know about me signing the will and seeing Mrs. Flynn and you, but he didn’t say a word about not having the will.”
Sheer fury glittered in his eyes when I told him Susan was murdered.
“Someone went upstairs and got her digitalis and placed it in the pot for her cocoa. They were all in and out of the living room at Pritchard House Saturday night: Jake, Peg, Peg’s boyfriend Dave, Tucker, Gina, Harrison, and his wife Charlotte. Last night Kim Weaver went to the old brick plant and someone shot out a tire and her car went into the pit. Again, any one of them could have been at the plant.”
Leon’s eyes narrowed. “Tire shot out?”
I described that instant as the Cruiser swung below the pole with the red security light.
“All of the family are real good shots. Real good.” Leon was emphatic. “Tom loved skeet shooting and there’s a course out at Burnt Creek. Everybody competed, Tom, Susan, Jake, all the kids. Harrison’s a duck hunter. Any one of them could nip a tire, even at a hundred yards. I don’t know about Dave Lewis.”
I was discouraged. “You’ve known most of them for many years. Who would poison Susan? Who would conspire with Kim Weaver to hide the will?”
“Different things matter to different folks. Pritchard House means more to Jake Flynn than any pile of bricks should. That house puffs her up. I don’t know what she might do if she thought she was going to lose that house. Peg?” His face softened. “She’s a sweet girl, good as they come. But”—and his eyes narrowed—“she’s nobody’s pushover. If she cares about something, she’ll fight like a wildcat. One time we had a hired hand and Peg came around the corner and saw him beating up on a horse. She had her skeet gun in her hands and she whipped it up quick as lightning and shot around his feet and aimed the gun at him and told him to get his hide off of Burnt Creek and if she ever saw him again she wouldn’t shoot at his feet. She’s like the other kids, not a dime in her pocket except what Susan gave them. I heard tell that Dave Lewis wanted money for a clinic from Susan. Tucker? He and Mitch spent a lot of time together, but he didn’t grieve a minute when Mitch ran away. Without Mitch around, Tucker was in line for Burnt Creek.” He looked dour. “As soon as Tucker took over at Burnt Creek, he called me in, said I’d sure done a good job but he would handle everything himself now. As for Gina”—Leon hunched his shoulders against the cold breeze that tugged at his suit coat—“she’s got too many fancy clothes for a gal who can’t hold a job. Gina grew up without folks. It didn’t seem to hurt Tucker. He loves the land. It fills him up. But Gina’s empty inside. I suspect she’s in a bad fix over money.”
Maybe he saw my look of surprise.
He gave a little whuff of laughter. “Don’t know how an old bachelor knows about buying baubles and such? I got a pretty niece, Lou Ann, a buyer for Neiman Marcus. Lou Ann comes to see me and I find out all about people who don’t think the world is right unless they got the newest and the fanciest and the most expensive. That’s Gina.” The geniality left his face. “Maybe she felt like she had to have money. As for Harrison, everybody in town knows he’s come a cropper with his latest fancy housing addition. The houses are so big the people have to go to Oklahoma City and buy outsize furniture to fill up the rooms. As for Kim Weaver, when she was in high school, she hung around the kids and spent a lot of time at the ranch. A bold piece with a gambler’s eye. I’d wager she figured out which one needed money the most, made her pitch about hiding the will, and thought she was on easy street when the meeting at the brick plant was set up. I guess Kim never thought somebody would put the ace of spades on her king.”
Kim had slipped a small pistol into her purse. She’d been confident she had all the cards, but the joker was out.
Leon smacked a fist into a palm. “I got to do something. I don’t know what, but I got to do something.” His face was burdened by grief.
I looked at him gravely. “There might be a way you could help trap Susan’s killer. It would be dangerous.”
He stepped toward me. “You name it.” There was no mistaking his determination. “I’ll do it.”
I popped into the hallway, waited until it was empty, and swirled into being. I chose a black jacquard jacket with white floral trim and a black A-line silk skirt and black heels. In the living room, I walked to the table laden with fried chicken, casseroles, and salads. However, this was no time to overindulge. I needed to be alert. I chose chicken salad, fruit, and a croissant. I edged nearer Wade Farrell. I enjoyed my repast and waited patiently until he was free.
He nodded as a woman turned away, then looked around the room, likely seeking his wife.
I stepped up to him. “Mr. Farrell, may I speak privately with you for a moment? I was with Susan Flynn Saturday night when she signed her new will. I’m sure Chief Cobb explained the circumstances to you. If you’ll come
