?
?That’d be quite a feat considering my husband’s been dead for years,” was her surprising reply. “You must be wanting my daughter, Lulu. I’m Priscilla.”
“I’m sorry, Priscilla,” said King, glancing at Michelle.
“She’s gone to get him. Get Junior, I mean.” She took a sip of something in a Disney World coffee mug she was holding.
“I thought he was in jail,” said Michelle.
The woman’s gaze swiveled to her.
“He was. That’s what bail’s for, shug. I come up from West Virginia to help out with the kids till Junior gets himself outta this mess. If he can.” She shook her large head. “Stealing from rich people. Ain’t nothing dumber, but dumb is what Junior’s been his whole life.”
“Do you know when they’ll be back?” asked King.
“They were picking up the kids from school, so ain’t gonna be too long from now.” Priscilla looked at them in distrust. “So exactly what are you doing here?”
“We’ve been retained by Junior’s attorney to dig up evidence proving his innocence,” explained King.
“Well, you got yourself a long road ahead.”
“So you think he’s guilty?” said Michelle, leaning against the banister.
Priscilla looked at her in unconcealed disgust. “He’s done shit like this before.”
King spoke up. “Well, maybe Junior didn’t do this.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’m a size six and got me my own TV show.”
“If they’re going to be back soon, can we come in and wait?”
Priscilla raised the pistol that she held in her other hand; it had been hidden from their view behind an outcropping of fleshy hip. “Lulu don’t like me letting people in. And I don’t have no way of knowing if you are who you say.” She pointed the gun at King. “Now, I don’t want to shoot you, ’cause you’re kinda cute, but I sure as hell will, and your little skinny plaything there too, if you try anything funny.”
King held up his hands in mock surrender. “No problems, Priscilla.” He paused and added, “That’s a fine pistol you’ve got there. H and K nine-millimeter, isn’t it?”
“Hell if I know, belonged to my husband,” said Priscilla. “But I sure know how to shoot it.”
“We’ll just take a stroll around outside and wait,” said King, backing down the stairs and pulling Michelle with him.
“You do that. Just don’t steal my Mercedes over there,” said Priscilla as she shut the door.
Michelle said, “Skinny plaything? I’d like to stick that pistol right up her—”
King gripped her shoulder and led her away from the trailer. “Let’s just be cool and live to play detective another day.”
As they headed away from the trailer, King bent down, picked up a rock and sent it sailing into a ravine. “Why do you think Remmy Battle left the hole in the secret cupboard in Bobby’s closet? She hired someone to fix the damage in her closet. Why not fix Bobby’s at the same time?”
“Maybe she’s pissed at him and didn’t want to deal with it.”
“And you think she’s upset because she didn’t know there was a secret drawer in his closet or what was in it?”
“While we’re at it, there’s something bugging me too,” she said. “Why was her wedding ring in that drawer? She tells us what a great man her husband is, so why wasn’t she wearing her ring? It couldn’t be because of the secret drawer. She didn’t find out about that until after her ring and the other things were stolen.”
“She might have suspected Bobby was hiding something from her, or maybe they were having problems. Like Harry said, Bobby slept around. Or she could’ve been lying to us.”
Michelle had a sudden thought. “Do you think Junior was hired by someone to break into the house and steal what was in Bobby’s secret drawer?”
“Who would know about it other than Bobby?”