Courthouse Steps. Ginger Chambers

his memory.

      At that, Judson jerked to his feet. “That’s enough,” he clipped shortly. “I have to go to the plant. A meeting I forgot. We can do this some other time. Right now I have to—” He didn’t complete his sentence; his jaw clamped shut instead.

      Amanda got slowly to her feet. They had barely begun their review. She needed much more detailed information. But it was evident that she wasn’t going to get it. Not right now, not after striking what was unmistakably a raw nerve. She shrugged. “Sure, Granddad. We can talk again later.”

      “Good,” he said. Then he pivoted and walked stiffly from the room, leaving Amanda to stare after him in frustration.

CHAPTER FOUR

      WHEN ETHAN OPENED the front door of Marge’s Diner, the hum of cheerful conversation mingled with the smell of hot coffee and cooking food. By the time he made his way to the counter, all conversation had stopped. Knowing himself to be the focus of attention, he hitched a seat on one of the red-topped stools, helped himself to a menu propped next to the salt and pepper shakers and frowned down at his choices for a late lunch. It was always like this when he came to a new town on a prosecution. He was the outsider, the stranger. As with a gunslinging lawman of old, people were both in awe of him and afraid. But Ethan was accustomed to being the outsider. It didn’t bother him. Slowly conversation resumed, though at a much more subdued level.

      Minutes later, the door opened again and Carlos entered the establishment. When he spotted Ethan, he came to his side and took a seat. Ethan handed him a menu.

      “What’ve you come up with?” Ethan asked.

      “Typical stuff. The lady at the post office seems to be the gossip maven. And there is a kid—a Lars Travis—about fifteen, who delivers bits and pieces of rumors along with the local newspaper. I talked with the lady, but the kid is in school.”

      “What did the lady say?”

      Carlos dropped the menu and fished in his pocket for a notebook. Referring to it occasionally, he said, “A number of people in town think Judson Ingalls did the dirty deed. Most of the same number think Margaret deserved it. She did not fit in here—she was a big-city girl from Chicago who scandalized everyone with her behavior. Judson was thought to be getting the short end of the stick. He was a local war hero, not that anyone remembers much about what he did in the war. After Margaret ‘left,’ Judson raised his daughter, Alyssa, on his own. Ingalls F and M, the family business, has been an important part of the community almost since its inception. It employs a substantial number of the people in and around Tyler. Mr. Ingalls is very active in community affairs. He supports the local high school sports teams, especially the Titans, the football team. His daughter is on the town council and every other committee Annabelle Scanlon—she is the postmistress—can think of.” Carlos paused. “I sense resentment there. She is probably jealous. The Ingallses have always had most of the money in town and most of the class.”

      He went back to his notes. “Alyssa Ingalls married one Ronald William Baron—who, incidentally, killed himself about ten years ago when his grain elevator business collapsed financially. The Barons had three children—Jeff, a doctor at the hospital here, Amanda and Liza, who seems to have taken after Grandmother Margaret and was quite a hell-raiser before she married. She shows up in a couple of our reports. She found the rug and turned over the bullet found in Margaret’s room at the lodge.”

      Ethan nodded. He looked for the waitress. She was leaning against the far end of the counter, talking with a policeman. Ethan sensed that they were discussing him and Carlos, and he had the hunch confirmed when the policeman’s hard gaze met his. The waitress glanced at him, too, but she made no move to come take their order. Once again she started to talk with the policeman.

      Carlos replaced the notebook in his pocket. “Everyone I talked to seems to think highly of Amanda Baron. She is liked, she is respected. I heard no word against her, not even from the postmistress.”

      “We’d like some coffee down here, please,” Ethan called, his strong voice cutting into the waitress’s tête-à-tête.

      Carlos smiled, amused by Ethan’s direct attack.

      The policeman said something, causing the waitress to push away from the counter and come toward them. On the way she nonchalantly collected a full coffee beaker and two cups. After the cups were filled, she started to walk away again, but Ethan stopped her. “We’d also like to order.”

      “Cook’s just stepped out,” the woman said, her middle-aged face set uncompromisingly.

      Ethan glanced behind the serving counter into the kitchen. “Who’s that in the hat?” he asked.

      A flush stole into the woman’s cheeks. By that time the policeman, dressed in the dark uniform of the Sugar Creek Sheriff’s Department, had ambled over. He was a compactly built six-footer with squared features and a no-nonsense edge that was tempered by a friendly smile.

      “Serve the men, Marge,” he advised. “Two hamburgers don’t commit you to one side or the other. Judson will understand.”

      Color still brightened the woman’s cheeks. “I’m loyal to my customers and my friends, Brick. Judson comes in here every day. And for these men to just barge in and act as if—”

      “They’re just doing their job,” the policeman said. “You serve Karen and me when we come in...and we’re the ones who arrested him.”

      “That’s different,” Marge claimed.

      “No, it’s not.”

      Marge looked at the policeman for a long moment, then at Ethan and Carlos. “All right,” she conceded grudgingly, “what do you want?”

      Ethan glanced at Carlos, who gave a short nod. “Two burgers. One no onion, one no tomato.”

      Marge moved away, leaving the policeman to introduce himself. “Lieutenant Brick Bauer of the Tyler substation,” he said, extending his hand. “I’ve heard you’ve been asking around town today.”

      “News travels fast,” Ethan remarked.

      “In most small towns it does, but especially in Tyler.” Brick glanced at the people sitting in booths and clinging to stools farther along the counter. He nodded whenever he caught an inquisitive eye. “You’re quite an object of speculation, Mr. Trask.”

      “As you said, I’m just doing my job.” Ethan introduced Carlos, who, he saw, did a quick estimation of the policeman.

      Brick Bauer sighed. “So are we all, so are we all...but it’s not a nice business sometimes.” He straightened, resting an arm on top of his holster flap as so many of his fellow officers did. “I expect you’ll be wanting to talk with me later?”

      Ethan nodded. “We’ll call before we come.”

      “Good. Then I’ll arrange to be in.”

      With another nod, he ambled off. In no hurry, he paused to speak to people at two tables on the way out the door.

      Ethan glanced at Carlos. “What do you think?” he asked.

      “A fair man who can put loyalties aside when it comes to telling the truth. He will be a good witness.”

      “My thoughts exactly.”

      The two burgers were delivered with a clank of glass plate against hard counter. Marge didn’t wait around to ask if they needed anything else.

      Ethan’s smile was wintry as he surveyed their meal. “Do you think we should really eat these?”

      “We have not been poisoned yet,” Carlos said.

      “There’s always a first time,” Ethan murmured, then he bit into the piping-hot burger and instantly decided it was the best he had had in years.

      * *