“An autopsy is required in the case of all suspicious deaths. Doc Eddy will do it this afternoon,” Kelly said.
“Wait a minute! You just said he hit his head and fell in. He probably drowned. There’s nothing suspicious or unexplained about that. There’s no reason to put Pamela through that.”
“A ski boat belonging to Sullivan was found tied up at the Buckhorn marina this morning. We found an earring on the boat, and your partner doesn’t look like the earring type. I doubt if he hit his head, fell in, and the boat drove itself back to the marina. I’m betting someone helped him into the water. I’m sorry if that’s hard on Mrs. Sullivan, but that’s the way it is.”
“If you’re going to question her, you’ll do it in my presence and you’ll stop when I tell you.”
He was drawing lines for a client who hadn’t retained him. Claire would have told him he was finally showing some promise. He and Kelly eyed each other, trying to guess when the confrontation that was brewing between them would finally erupt.
“Take her back to her house, and I’ll meet you there in an hour. Questioning is always more productive immediately following a death. I’ve been through this enough times to know that.”
“Yeah, Sheriff, I’ll bet that the lake is a real hotbed of murder and mayhem.”
Her withering stare confirmed that he’d just made an ass of himself. He conceded the moment to her and shepherded Pamela to the car.
They made it back to Sullivan’s just before eleven. Diane Farrell, Sullivan’s legal assistant for ten years, was sprawled on the doorstep. She was leaning against a brown grocery bag filled with fresh fruit for the brunch, flicking ashes from her cigarette into clay pots brimming with red, pink, and violet impatiens. Pamela walked past her without comment, too dazed to speak.
Diane was plain and thick with a blocky face bolted to a rectangular body. Her hair was a washed-out brown matching the grocery bag. She had dark, wide-set eyes, a nose too small for her broad face, and thin lips on a downturned mouth.
She promoted and protected Sullivan as if he were her own. Try to go around her or behind her and you’d probably end up just going-to another firm. Office scuttlebutt had her madly in love with Sullivan, though no one could picture them together. Sullivan played only with beautiful women. Ordinary need not apply. But she had job security and a kinship with Pamela, who welcomed her as a link to her wandering husband.
“Mason, what’s going on? Where’s Sullivan?” she asked.
Mason knew Diane well enough to dislike her, and he disliked her enough not to soften the blow.
“He’s dead, Diane. Someone found him floating in the lake this morning. Pamela and I just identified the body.”
She studied his face for some hint that it wasn’t true. Her eyes were like black holes, sucking in everything and emitting no light. When he didn’t recant, she went inside, calling for Pamela. Her stoic response made him feel like a heel for smacking her with the news.
Mason spent the next twenty minutes telling his colleagues, as they arrived for brunch, that even though the firm’s biggest producer was dead, everything would be fine. They didn’t believe it and neither did he, but it was the sort of thing people said and accepted when bad news was too fresh to argue with. Some wanted to stay and help. But he told them there wasn’t anything for them to do.
He was waiting for the sheriff. Claire’s voice wouldn’t let him leave Pamela to be questioned without a lawyer. When the last group drove away, he picked up Diane’s fruit and went into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
No one was in the den, and he was enough of a stranger not to knock on closed bedroom doors. Diane emerged a few minutes later, dry-eyed, with her normal shade of pale.
“How’s Pamela?”
“Her husband is dead, so that’s a bummer. Other than that, I don’t know.”
“The sheriff will be here soon to question her. I’ll stay for that. You don’t have to stick around.”
“She expects me to stay, Mason. You play lawyer. I’ll take care of Pamela.”
One more reason not to envy Pamela, he decided.
Kelly arrived at noon. Mason introduced Diane, who studied Kelly’s badge like it was counterfeit before saying that she would ask Pamela to join them.
Pamela had showered, changed, and added fresh makeup and appeared composed as she returned to the den. She and Kelly took the same seats as before. Mason stood at Pamela’s left with Diane on her right. They were a mismatched pair of sentries.
“When did you last see your husband, Mrs. Sullivan?” Kelly began.
“Last night about seven o’clock. We were supposed to go to Buckhorn for dinner. We had a fight and he left.”
Mason drifted away from Pamela’s chair so that he could watch her face for any signs of weakness that would trigger his instruction not to answer any more questions.
Kelly continued. “What did you fight about?”
“I never remember anymore. We just fight.”
“Where did he go?”
“He took the ski boat. I watched him from the kitchen window.”
“Which way did he go when he left the cove?”
“Toward Turkey Bend.”
“Do you know anyone who lives up that way whom he might have gone to visit?”
“No, we don’t have many friends at the lake. We have a lot of visitors, and they either stay with us or at a client’s condo.”
“Whose condo is that?”
“One of Richard’s clients has a condominium in a cove near here. I don’t know who really owns it. Richard never talked about his clients. I only knew that he was able to use it for guests when we entertained at the lake.”
“Did you have guests at the condo this weekend?”
“No.”
“Do you water-ski, Mrs. Sullivan?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“Has anyone else used the ski boat recently other than your husband?”
“No, and he doesn’t ski anymore either. He says his knees can’t take it. He just uses the boat for transportation.”
“Mrs. Sullivan, the lake patrol found your husband’s boat at dawn. It was abandoned. I wonder if you can identify this earring that was found on the boat?”
Kelly handed her an evidence bag containing a single gold hoop earring. Pamela reached for her ear and removed one of her own clasp hoops.
“It’s not mine, if that’s what you mean. I’ve never pierced my ears.”
Kelly’s silence told Mason that she knew her business. She would learn more by listening than by asking. Pamela let the silence hang for a moment. She pulled herself upright, looked directly at Kelly, and answered with a last shot of dignity.
“The earring probably belongs to someone younger with a flat belly and firm tits and I don’t know her name. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long morning.”
She rose and turned away. Diane padded behind her as they retreated into the bedroom.
“Son of a bitch!” Mason said.
“Seems likely,” Kelly added.
“How about a ride back to Buckhorn, Sheriff?”
“Sorry, Counselor. I’m not running a taxi service.”
“I wasn’t planning on tipping you. You dragged me into this mess. You can’t leave me stranded here.”
