Q is for Quarry (Kinsey Millhone 17)

I studied her with puzzlement. “Why do I have the feeling you know something you’re not telling me?”

“I’m sure I know lots of things I haven’t told you.”

“About Charisse.”

“I don’t want to make trouble. I told you that before.”

“Who would you be making trouble for?”

“I’m speaking in generalities, not about anyone specific.”

“Let’s hope that’s true. Thanks for your time.”

She moved on and I remained where I was, watching the efficiency with which she went about her business.

I stopped by the motel. Stacey’s car was gone. He hadn’t left me a note, so I figured I’d catch him later. I drove on over to Quorum General, where I found Dolan sleeping, his dinner tray pushed to one side. I tiptoed to his bedside and tucked one copy of the report, sealed in a manila envelope, under the edge of the blanket folded at his feet. On my way past the nurses station, I had a quick chat with Ms. Kovach, who told me he was being transferred out of CCU and onto a regular medical floor. I told her to tell him I’d been in and had left him an update at the foot of his bed.

“I’ll be sure and tell him,” she said.

As I eased out of the parking lot, Stacey was just pulling in. We both rolled down our windows and had a chat, car to car. I passed him the second copy of the notes I’d typed and included a quick account of my conversation with Adrianne, plus the gossip I’d picked up from Betty Puckett regarding Wilbur Sanders’s decampment and his subsequent bigamy.

Stacey said, “Sorry to hear Pudgie spent so much time at the McPhees. I hate rooting against the guy, but we could use a break about now.”

“So what if he knew them? He still could have stolen the car, don’t you think?”

“How’re we going to prove it? I thought the prints would turn out to be significant,” he said. “Oh, well. I’ll ask the boys to get to work on Wilbur. Shouldn’t be hard to track him down. Might as well cook his goose while we’re at it.”

“Yeah, Medora’s in bad shape. It’d be nice to see him taking some responsibility. Meanwhile, where were you? I stopped by the motel and you were gone.”

“I went over to the sheriff’s office and talked to a couple of detectives. They said they’d take a set of elimination prints on the McPhee’s if I can talk them into it.”

“You think they’ll agree?”

“I can’t think why not. By the way, I want you to go to the Baptist Church with me. It’s Easter and Edna tells me the McPhees will all be there. Two services tomorrow, but I think the nine o’clock’s our best bet. Afterward, they’re going back to Edna’s for a big Sunday dinner. Easter, I bet she does a spiral-cut ham.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s just like my mother. We had ham every Easter, along with yams and green beans. We’ll follow them to the house and have a quick chat with them while they’re all there together.”

“I don’t know, Stacey. Maybe you should go alone. I’ll only end up irritating Ruel.”

“I want you with me. I promise we’ll keep it brief.”

A car pulled up behind me and the driver gave a quick, polite beep of his horn.

I said, “I’ll catch you later at the motel.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

We ate supper in Dolan’s room, which Stacey had by now adopted as his own. Both of us sat on the king-size bed, sharing a bucket of franchised fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and watery corn on the cob. Once we finished, I gathered the chicken bones, empty cartons, and used plasticware and tossed everything in the trash. Stacey wanted me to stay and watch a movie, but I was ready for a break. I’m not accustomed to spending so much time in the company of others. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Great. I’ll knock on your door at eight. That’ll give you time to shower and get dressed.”

“Oh shoot. I just remembered. The only thing I have with me are blue jeans.”

“No problem. We don’t have to go in. We can wait in the parking lot and follow them home.”

“Why not go straight to the house?”

“What if they change their minds and decide to go out for Sunday lunch? This may be the only chance we have to talk to them together.”

“You think she’d give up the chance to cook her big Easter dinner?”

“Probably not, but I want to see the congregation all dressed up,” he said. “We used to do that as kids.”