Billy watched in silence as she started, head down, for the verandah. He jerked his head toward Officer Harrison. “Stay with her. See what she says.” He shouted to Lou, “Keep looking.” He turned and strode toward the house.
Marian called out, “Do you have a person of interest?”
He ignored her call.
As he climbed the back steps and moved toward an open French window, Marian was sanguine. “I didn’t think he’d commit this early, but it’s pretty clear where he’s going. Lawyer shot to death. Witness sees sister toss something, think firearm, into the muck. One plus one equals two.”
Annie swung toward Marian. “I didn’t see her throw anything.”
Marian arched a dark brow. “You don’t like being the finger, but that’s the way killers get caught. Of course, Lou will have to have a shamrock on his shoulder to find anything out there.” She gestured toward the marsh. “Although I’d be the last to pick Elaine Jamison to pull the trigger of anything deadlier than a perfume atomizer. Shows how much I know. Anyway, it’s going to make a big-time story, even if I have to be careful how I play it.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of, I got less than twenty minutes before deadline.” She whirled and broke into a steady trot toward the road.
Max touched Annie’s arm lightly. “Come on, Annie. I don’t think there’s anything we can do here.”
“I’ve done enough, haven’t I?” Her voice was shaky.
“You did what you had to do.” He didn’t go on to say that Elaine Jamison was digging her own grave by her lack of cooperation, but his eyes told her.
Annie swallowed hard. “I was here a few days ago and talked to Elaine. She was so open about Glen and the problems in the family. She would never have told me any of that if she’d intended to shoot him. She made it clear that she loved Glen. She said he wasn’t at fault. She blamed everything on Cleo.”
Max looked thoughtful. “Maybe it was Cleo’s fault that Glen made his kids mad, but you said Elaine was furious that they were unhappy.”
Oyster shells crackled beneath their shoes. They came out from beneath the shadow of a live oak and started across the rough lawn toward the car.
Annie made no answer. She couldn’t disagree. Elaine had been angry with her brother over his treatment of Laura, Kit, and Tommy. Someone shot Glen Jamison in his study, which argued a killer near at hand. Elaine’s distraught appearance this morning was suspicious. Moreover, the movement of her arm as she stood on the bank of the marsh indicated she had thrown something, and no murder weapon had been found in Glen’s study.
Annie’s steps slowed as they reached the front yard. She stopped and looked toward the steps to the wide verandah. “I have to go inside.”
She walked swiftly toward the porch. Max didn’t call after her.
The front door was unlocked, of course. So many were going in and out as part of the investigation. With a quick breath, Annie opened the screen door and stepped into the central hallway. A soft murmur of voices sounded from the drawing room.
Officer Harrison stood in the open doorway to the drawing room. She turned at the squeak of the hinges. She looked at Annie, unhooked the cell from her belt, flipped up the cover.
Annie moved as though she were confident of her reception. She lifted her voice, the better to be heard in the living room. “I have to speak to Elaine Jamison.”
Hyla punched the cell. “Mrs. Darling wants to talk to Elaine Jamison.”
Footsteps sounded. Elaine stood in the doorway. “Annie, we have great trouble.”
“That’s why I’ve come.” Annie walked past the police officer, who listened, then pocketed the cell.
Apparently, Billy didn’t mind Annie’s presence as long as Hyla heard every word.
Annie glanced around the room. Obviously, Frank Saulter had finished taking the family members’ statements because now they were all here. Kit Jamison huddled, knees to her chin, in a side chair. Laura and her brother, Tommy, shared a small sofa. Annie’s gaze paused at Tommy. He’d combed his hair and changed into a larger shirt that fit him much better than the earlier tight polo. Richard Jamison stood by the window. His glance at Annie was quizzical.
Annie took a deep breath. Elaine deserved the truth. “I was in your backyard this morning. I told the police that I saw you come out of your cottage.”
The silence in the living room was taut and stressed. Every face turned toward the doorway where Elaine and Annie stood.
Elaine raised a hand as if to ward off Annie’s words.
Annie continued, her voice thin, her eyes meeting Elaine’s stricken gaze. “You walked on the path toward the marsh. You were carrying a bunched-up blue cloth. I lost sight of you. I crossed the yard and looked around the cane. You were lowering your arm. I assumed that you had thrown something. However, I did not”—she emphasized the negative—“see you throw anything.” If a gun wasn’t found, they would have no physical evidence to link to Elaine. “You still held the cloth. You turned and ran behind your cottage and in a moment you drove out in your car.”
Annie looked deep into pale blue eyes that held despair, not resentment.
Laura Jamison’s voice shook. “Did you see anyone else?”
“The yardman.” Annie continued to look at Elaine. “If Max and I can help you, call us.” She waited for an instant, but Elaine’s face registered nothing. Slowly, Annie turned away.
Voices rose. “What’s this all about, Elaine?” “What’s she talking about?” “Who is she?”
