“Not a word. I called last night, but Felicia said he hadn’t showed. I’ll call again this afternoon. With luck, he’ll be back and we can talk to him. I’ll bet you money he has a story cooked up to explain his prints on the Mustang.”
I read the front section and the funnies, and Stacey entertained himself by reading aloud ads for cheap desert real estate. I looked up. “You ought to do it, Stacey. Now that you’re a homeless person, you could live down here.”
“Too hot. I’ve been thinking to ask Dolan about moving in with him.”
“Hey, I like that. He needs someone to ride herd on his profligate lifestyle.”
“I’d have to sneak out for junk food. That’s the only thing worries me.” With a rattle, Stacey flipped the page, his attention shifting to sports.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to cut down.”
“Speaking of which, what would you like to try next? Taco Bell, Long John Silver’s, or Jack in the Box?”
“I thought we were going to McPhee’s.”
“I’m talking about later. A fella has to eat.”
After the church service ended, we waited until the family headed out, and we followed them to the house. Ruel and Edna turned off a block early. “What’s that about? Are they ducking us?” I asked, peering back at them.
“They do that every week—visit a shut-in before Sunday lunch.”
“You’re too much,” I said. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
Justine let us in. She and Adrianne were apparently in charge of the kitchen until Edna got home. The house smelled of the baked ham she must have put in the oven before she left for church. I detected whiffs of pineapple and brown sugar and the burnt sugar smell of baking sweet potatoes oozing sap onto the oven floor. Justine’s girls had settled at the coffee table in the living room, playing a board game with only minor squabbling. I could see their Easter baskets on the floor where they’d left them. Judging from the bits of crumpled foil, it looked as though the girls had already begun to sample the hollow chocolate bunnies and foil-wrapped chocolate eggs. All three had received bright yellow plush ducks. The dining room table had been set with the good china. The centerpiece was an enormous arrangement of Easter lilies I could smell from where I stood.
Justine proceeded down the hall ahead of us. “We’re out here in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on lunch.”
“No problem,” Stacey said as we followed her.
The kitchen was densely heated, in part by the kettle of green beans simmering on the stove. Of course, I was starving, hoping to get on with this so Stacey and I could hit the junk food circuit. I’d already decided it wasn’t my job to help Stacey reform. I’d set him on this path so I might as well keep him company while he stuffed himself.
Adrianne stood at the counter, twisting plastic ice cube trays so the cubes dropped neatly into a big clear-glass pitcher. She passed each empty tray to Cornell, who refilled it after she handed it to him. He delivered the last tray to the freezer and then picked up a dish towel and dried his hands. In the meantime, Justine was setting out salad plates, arranging a lettuce leaf on each. She opened the refrigerator and removed a Tupperware Jell-O mold, which she ran briefly under hot water at the sink. Over her shoulder she said to Stacey, “What did you want?”
“I was hoping your parents would be here so I wouldn’t have to repeat myself. I don’t know if Lieutenant Dolan mentioned this, but we’re going to need a set of fingerprints from each of you. Detective Bancroft at the Sheriff’s Department said she’d look for you first thing tomorrow morning.”
Cornell leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He’d taken off his sport coat and loosened his tie. “What’s this about?”
“Elimination purposes. Any one of you might’ve left prints on the Mustang. This way, if we come up with latents, we’ll have something to compare ’em to. Saves time and aggravation.”
“We’re supposed to get inked and rolled like a bunch of criminals?” Cornell asked.
“Well, no sir. Not at all. This is strictly routine, but it’s a big help to us. Lieutenant Dolan would have told you himself, but he ended up at Quorum General. I suppose you heard about that.”
Cornell wasn’t to be distracted by Dolan’s medical woes. “What if we say no?”
“I can’t think why you would. It’s common practice.”
“Well, it’s not common for me.”
Adrianne looked at him. “Oh, just do it, Cornell. Why are you kicking up a fuss?”