Courthouse Steps. Ginger Chambers

involved with Margaret in the weeks before her death? What did her grandfather know about him?

      She got up from her desk and went into the outer office. Tessie looked up from her computer keyboard. “I’m going out for a while, Tessie,” Amanda said. “Just around the square. If anyone needs me, I’ll be back in about—” she checked her watch “—half an hour. Not more than that. I need some fresh air.”

      Her secretary nodded and went back to work.

      The day was unusually warm for the latter part of September. Sunlight rained through the leaves of the huge old oak trees and onto the grassy square. Even the fall flowers, nicely kept in their beds, seemed to be especially colorful this day. It was as if Nature was giving everyone a second chance at summer before the frigid winds of winter came to call.

      Amanda sat down on a wooden bench in one of the sunnier sections of the park and watched as a few young children played nearby. The upcoming trial was like the worst threat of winter to her: an impending time of darkness and cold. That is, if she were allowed to assume her rightful place at her grandfather’s side.

      She sighed and, made sleepy by the unusual warmth, let her eyes shut. Mere seconds passed, however, before a huge shaggy dog came lumbering across the lawn to jump on her. “Samson!” Amanda laughed, snapping to attention as the friendly white dog continued to try to lick her cheek, her chin, her nose, her mouth.

      “Samson, down!” Pam Kelsey called, hurrying to contain him. She made a grab for his collar. “Sorry, Amanda,” she apologized, once she had gained control. “He’s just been groomed and thinks he’s king of the hill.”

      Amanda grinned as she rubbed a fluffy head. “That’s okay. I think he’s king of the hill, too. Any dog this sweet deserves a little spoiling.”

      “Actually, we had to get him groomed today because he spent all of yesterday trying to dig his way out of the backyard. I don’t understand why he’s started to do it, but he has. He’s twelve years old. He should know better!”

      “Maybe he’s lonely,” Amanda suggested. “You should get him a friend. No, seriously. With both you and Patrick at school all day, and then with you coaching the football team and Patrick helping you...Samson probably feels as if he’s lacking attention.”

      “What kind of friend?” Pam asked carefully.

      “Another dog. Preferably a female, neutered, of course. Unless you want to have puppies.”

      “Good heavens.”

      Amanda laughed. “Samson has a few good years left in him. He’s probably not ready yet to hang up his spurs in that department. He could still be a father.”

      “Why not get another male and not have to worry about it?”

      “Because introducing a male dog at this stage might make matters worse. They might not like each other.”

      Pam tilted her head, her brown eyes curious. “How do you know so much about it?” she asked. Then she remembered. “Oh, that’s right. You once wanted to be a vet, didn’t you? Patrick told me.”

      Amanda smiled wryly. “Right now, I wish I’d stuck with it.”

      Pam’s pretty face lost its smile. “I heard that Ethan Trask and his assistant were asking questions around town today. I took off from school during my free period to collect Samson, and I ran into Annabelle outside the post office. She said a man named Carlos something-or-other had talked to her for almost an hour. So you know what that means...they now know almost everything there is to know about Tyler.”

      “By the time this trial is through no one will have any secrets left.”

      “Do you really think it will be that bad?”

      Amanda looked at Pam and saw her genuine concern. Not for her own sake—Pam wasn’t involved. She hadn’t moved to Tyler until late last summer, around the time Margaret’s body had been found. She had no connection to the town’s past except through her marriage to Patrick Kelsey, the Kelseys having been in Tyler since its founding, just as long as the Ingallses had. Amanda shook her head. “No, I’m exaggerating. I’m feeling a little frustrated right now, so I’m acting theatrical.”

      Pam reached out to clasp her arm. “If there’s any way Patrick and I can help, you just let us know. We don’t believe Judson could have done a thing like that. We may not be able to be in court with you because of our commitments at the school, but we’ll be with you in spirit. Tell Judson we support him, okay?”

      “Okay,” Amanda agreed. Her spirits lifted just a little. Their family did have friends—the Kelseys, the Bauers...and there were others.

      Samson woofed at Amanda, as if to say goodbye, then he jerked, ready to move away.

      Laughing, Pam whipped out a leash and connected it in one smooth motion. “He got away from me earlier before I could get this on. I think he spotted you sitting here. Animals like you, don’t they?”

      “Usually, yes,” Amanda admitted.

      Pam’s brown eyes moved over her. “I think they trust you.”

      Amanda shrugged. “They probably see a soft touch.”

      “No, I think they sense something more. You’re a lot like your mother, Amanda. The same pure heart.”

      Amanda wondered if Pam would still think that if she could see the photo of Ethan Trask in her office, the one with the dart sticking out of his nose.

      * * *

      ETHAN COUNTED OUT the correct amount tallied on the waitress’s check and added a few dollars more for a tip. Service hadn’t been exactly wonderful, but the woman had come back to refill their coffee cups. As they left the diner, he noticed that most of the same people who had been present upon his arrival remained. Their eyes followed him to the door. Once outside, he wondered whether, if either he or Carlos were to surprise them by opening the door again, they would all be talking at once about the same subject.

      They walked to Ethan’s car, a sleek black luxury model that he had allowed himself. As he opened the driver’s door, he asked, “Did you find out anything about the ring?”

      Carlos shook his head. “Nothing, my friend. No one knows anything about it.”

      Ethan frowned as they settled into their seats. “Judson and Margaret were married in 1941. The ring found with the body is engraved 1941—at least, the segment we can read says that. It has to be his.”

      “As far as anyone knows, Judson Ingalls never wore a ring.”

      “Keep asking. You may turn up something with one of the older people you talk to. Someone who knew the two of them way back when.”

      Ethan started the car and backed out of the parking slot onto the street.

      “What about you?” Carlos asked when they pulled forward. “What did you learn?”

      “That Judson Ingalls started talking seriously about selling Timberlake Lodge shortly after the body was found. And he sold it to the Addison Hotel Corporation for less than market value.”

      “Was the buyer spooked because of the body?”

      “Not according to the assistant manager. Addison would have gone higher, but Judson Ingalls didn’t ask it. I think he wanted the place off his conscience.”

      “That would not make his troubles go away.”

      “Out of sight, out of mind? Remember that painting of Margaret Ingalls in her bedroom? He didn’t ask for it, either. And years ago, after he’d ordered the room locked up, he moved to his house in town and never went back. The man’s pretty good at ignoring what’s unpleasant.”

      “He cannot ignore a court date.”

      “No.” Ethan smiled. “He can’t.”

      Ethan looked away from the