wish you well.”
“I’ll buy you dinner if you make a copy for me. There’s a copy machine in the Rockbluff Motel Office,” she said. “A very nice dinner.”
“There’s a copy machine in my house, too. But I’m keeping this one to myself.”
“You know I’ll get my own, don’t you?”
“But not as quickly as I did.”
“He has to give me a copy. Public record. I’d hate to threaten him with legal action,” she said.
“That would be tacky.”
“Let me through, Thomas.”
“He’s retreated to private areas.”
“I can be very patient,” she replied, and slipped on by me.
“Good luck, Suzanne.”
She just waved a hand behind her as she entered the offices. I continued on out to the parking lot and climbed into my truck. While I was re-reading the note, Dr. Jarlsson emerged from a door at the side of the building, gave me a grave look, jumped into his four-years-old gray Camry, and took off, bumping my fender. We did not exchange insurance information.
I knew Suzanne would be rushing out the door, so I put away the report, started up my truck, and left, heading over to have a conversation with Sheriff Payne. I decided to share what I knew and see what information he could offer. No point in tailing Jarlsson . He’d probably drive into a tree.
In my rearview mirror, I saw Suzanne burst from the front door, throw up her hands in frustration, and wave at me to come back. I pretended I didn’t see. That’s all I need, saddled with Highsmith while trying to help figure out what the hell was going on in peaceful, bucolic Rockbluff , Iowa. I headed for the courthouse, and Payne’s offices underneath, troubled greatly that I had forgotten to get Suzanne’s autograph on my copy of Something Rotten in Rockbluff .
“I ’m glad you’re sitting down,” I said as I entered the offices of the Rockbluff County Sheriff’s Department.
Harmon Payne looked up from behind his desk. Deputy Stephen Doltch , who was standing with a sheaf of papers in his hand, looked at me with a kind of smirking expression and then looked at Payne. Then sat down to his computer.
“Now what have you done?” Payne groaned. “No, wait! You’ve solved the case of our young suicide. Thank you , Thomas!’
“There’s no time for sarcasm.” I walked over to his desk. He used his foot to push out the banker’s chair beside it. I am more familiar with that chair than I’d care to admit. I sat down. Doltch shook his head and turned to his computer.
“Coffee, Thomas?”
“No. I’m about to burst as it is. Did you see Dr. Jarlsson’s report on the dead girl?”
“Of course. He faxed it to me in the middle of the night.” He eyed me, suspicion coming off of him in waves. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
I took a deep breath. Might as well be truthful right up front. Time’s winged chariot waits for no one. “It’s a lie.”
Payne sat up straight. Doltch froze at his keyboard. I had their attention.
Payne made a give-it-to-me gesture with his hand. “Talk to me.”
“The report says she drowned. Not so. She was murdered.”
“And you know this because…?” Payne asked.
“When I pulled her from the river, Harmon, and set her on the bank, I repositioned her head to a more, I mean, well, a more comfortable position. And when I touched her head, I found two bullet holes in the back of her skull.”
Doltch snorted. He said “You made a corpse’s head more comfortable? A freaking corpse ? That takes the cake.”
I ignored him.
Payne asked, “Why would Prentice lie, Thomas? He’s a good man. A friend of mine. Decent, hardworking, fine family.”
“You tell me.”
Payne paused. “Are you sure about the bullet holes? Could it have been places where she hit her head coming downstream? It’s a bit rocky on the northern reach of the Whitetail.”
“I know a bullet hole when I see one. When I feel one.”
Payne slowly nodded his head. “I believe you do.”
“This is so much bullshit!”
“I’ll buy you dinner if you make a copy for me. There’s a copy machine in the Rockbluff Motel Office,” she said. “A very nice dinner.”
“There’s a copy machine in my house, too. But I’m keeping this one to myself.”
“You know I’ll get my own, don’t you?”
“But not as quickly as I did.”
“He has to give me a copy. Public record. I’d hate to threaten him with legal action,” she said.
“That would be tacky.”
“Let me through, Thomas.”
“He’s retreated to private areas.”
“I can be very patient,” she replied, and slipped on by me.
“Good luck, Suzanne.”
She just waved a hand behind her as she entered the offices. I continued on out to the parking lot and climbed into my truck. While I was re-reading the note, Dr. Jarlsson emerged from a door at the side of the building, gave me a grave look, jumped into his four-years-old gray Camry, and took off, bumping my fender. We did not exchange insurance information.
I knew Suzanne would be rushing out the door, so I put away the report, started up my truck, and left, heading over to have a conversation with Sheriff Payne. I decided to share what I knew and see what information he could offer. No point in tailing Jarlsson . He’d probably drive into a tree.
In my rearview mirror, I saw Suzanne burst from the front door, throw up her hands in frustration, and wave at me to come back. I pretended I didn’t see. That’s all I need, saddled with Highsmith while trying to help figure out what the hell was going on in peaceful, bucolic Rockbluff , Iowa. I headed for the courthouse, and Payne’s offices underneath, troubled greatly that I had forgotten to get Suzanne’s autograph on my copy of Something Rotten in Rockbluff .
“I ’m glad you’re sitting down,” I said as I entered the offices of the Rockbluff County Sheriff’s Department.
Harmon Payne looked up from behind his desk. Deputy Stephen Doltch , who was standing with a sheaf of papers in his hand, looked at me with a kind of smirking expression and then looked at Payne. Then sat down to his computer.
“Now what have you done?” Payne groaned. “No, wait! You’ve solved the case of our young suicide. Thank you , Thomas!’
“There’s no time for sarcasm.” I walked over to his desk. He used his foot to push out the banker’s chair beside it. I am more familiar with that chair than I’d care to admit. I sat down. Doltch shook his head and turned to his computer.
“Coffee, Thomas?”
“No. I’m about to burst as it is. Did you see Dr. Jarlsson’s report on the dead girl?”
“Of course. He faxed it to me in the middle of the night.” He eyed me, suspicion coming off of him in waves. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
I took a deep breath. Might as well be truthful right up front. Time’s winged chariot waits for no one. “It’s a lie.”
Payne sat up straight. Doltch froze at his keyboard. I had their attention.
Payne made a give-it-to-me gesture with his hand. “Talk to me.”
“The report says she drowned. Not so. She was murdered.”
“And you know this because…?” Payne asked.
“When I pulled her from the river, Harmon, and set her on the bank, I repositioned her head to a more, I mean, well, a more comfortable position. And when I touched her head, I found two bullet holes in the back of her skull.”
Doltch snorted. He said “You made a corpse’s head more comfortable? A freaking corpse ? That takes the cake.”
I ignored him.
Payne asked, “Why would Prentice lie, Thomas? He’s a good man. A friend of mine. Decent, hardworking, fine family.”
“You tell me.”
Payne paused. “Are you sure about the bullet holes? Could it have been places where she hit her head coming downstream? It’s a bit rocky on the northern reach of the Whitetail.”
“I know a bullet hole when I see one. When I feel one.”
Payne slowly nodded his head. “I believe you do.”
“This is so much bullshit!”
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