going to have.”
Jolie had already paid her check and was waiting outside by the time Amy walked out of Bizzy’s. She caught up with Amy quietly and fast. “Amy Perdue?”
Perdue spun around and stared at her, eyes wide with recognition.
“Can we talk a minute?”
Perdue looked like she wanted to bolt. An elderly couple in a big car bore down on them and managed to steer past. Amy kept her eyes on them as if they were the most fascinating elderly couple in the world.
Jolie said, “I’d like to ask you about Maddy Akers.”
“Maddy?”
“Mrs. Akers. The police chief’s wife.”
Amy bit her lip. “You know? I’m late for an appointment. Can we do this later?”
Jolie heard the crunch of car tires again and automatically stepped back to get out of the way. A GMC Yukon came toward them between the two rows of parked cars. When it drew even, the window buzzed down and a dark-haired woman peered out. “Amy?”
Amy had gone from nervous to terrified.
The woman hopped down from the Yukon. She wore jeans. A simple top hugged a lean, strong body. Her sunglasses and the haircut and color looked like they cost a tidy sum.
The Yukon was silver. Maddy Akers owned a silver Yukon.
The woman said to Amy, “I’m glad I caught up with you.” She swiped at a stray hair. “I can’t make it in to the apartment today, so you’ll have to handle the eviction yourself. You think you and Niraj can do that?”
Amy reminded Jolie of a rabbit standing up in the road, trying to figure out which way to run. Finally, she nodded.
“I have something to tell you…” The woman stopped. She looked at Jolie’s shield and then at Amy. “Is something going on? Are you in trouble?”
Amy just stared at her.
The woman said, “Are you…?” Stopped, and tried again. “You’re here because of my husband?”
Jolie introduced herself. In the corner of her eye, she saw Amy starting to back away. Jolie gave her a look that said,
The woman said, “You’re here to tell me about, um…” She stopped, took a breath. “You’re assigned to my husband’s case?”
“You know about your husband.”
Maddy Akers nodded. Jolie couldn’t see past the sunglasses, but the woman looked miserable. Like a sky as storm clouds moved in. She’d staved them off for a time, but now they were racing across the heavens until the whole sky was black. Jolie knew the feeling. She knew what Maddy Akers was going through. Disbelief had turned to stinging betrayal, the question running around and around in her head:
She cried silently, tears running down her face. Pressed her manicured fingers against her cheeks, trying to stop them.
Jolie needed to talk to Maddy, now. Amy took advantage of her ambivalence. “Can I go now? I have to be somewhere.”
Jolie nodded. She’d catch up with her later. Amy stormed toward her car with new purpose, shoulders pushing forward like a running back, bag crushed to her chest.
Maddy Akers looked at Jolie. The tear tracks were still on her face, but she seemed composed. “Can we get out of here?”
Maddy locked up her car and got into Jolie’s. They drove in the direction of Gardenia PD, but Jolie made sure the Starliner Motel was on the way. Maddy Akers asked to stop there, which was what Jolie had in mind. Jolie had no plans to take her to the Gardenia PD, where her husband had been the chief, where all manner of emotions would be swirling around and there would be factions and allies and plenty of kid gloves. But she didn’t want to go directly to the Palm County Sheriff’s Office, either. That might make Maddy suspicious. Jolie wanted this to be between the two of them.
They parked outside room nine. Everyone was gone now. They couldn’t go in, but that didn’t seem to bother Maddy. They sat in the car, and the two of them stared at the yellow tape stretched across the open doorway. On the way over, Maddy’d told her she’d been driving around since she heard the news from her husband’s second in command early this morning. Jolie asked her where she went, but Maddy couldn’t remember all the places. “I just drove,” she said. Meridian Beach, Port St. Joe, up to Wewahitchka and back. She turned off her phone because she didn’t want to hear from reporters.
Jolie didn’t push her. She knew Maddy wouldn’t need any prodding to unburden herself. Pushing might even cause her to pull away. The woman had questions of her own. Did anyone hear anything? Was he found right away? Who found him? Who would do this? All the questions an innocent victim of a senseless crime would ask as they tried to get their arms around the enormity of the death. As if the details would help them. Some questions Jolie could answer, which she did.
They both knew it was all prelude.
Maddy Akers stared at the windshield. “I just don’t understand how he could—” She stopped herself.
Jolie waited, then asked, “Could what?”
Maddy swiped at her eyes under the dark glasses. “How he could let someone just walk up on him like that.”
Jolie stayed quiet.
“I don’t understand why he was here at all. Why would he come to a place like this? It wasn’t like him. People will say it was some
“I don’t either.” Which was the truth.
“How could he
“Do what?”
Maddy stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“You said, ‘How could he do this to himself?’”
Maddy covered her mouth.
“How could he do what?”
Maddy turned in her seat and stared at Jolie. “You
Jolie put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space.
“Where are we going?” Maddy demanded.
“I need to take your statement.”
“That’s it? That’s all?”
Jolie said, “What else is there?”
8 LANDRY
Landry turned onto his street, which looked like every other street in the housing division in which he lived. The division was called Orchard Commons, although there were no orchards, and he didn’t know what a “commons” was. But Orchard Commons was ten minutes on the 210 from Santa Anita, one of the reasons he bought in here.
Landry felt dispossessed. His wife Cindi was out of town with her sister. Two days ago he’d dropped his kid off at camp near Lake Arrowhead. She’d be gone for two weeks.
