“I had the same type of reaction.”
“Hmph,” Nick said with his mouth full. “Did you try Ina?”
“I’m headed there next.”
“She knows everyone.”
“She can’t get around like she used to.”
“Doesn’t stop her,” Nick said. “One of my guys sprained an ankle at home. Ina called to tell me he’d been hurt before my guy did. And he lives a half mile away from her. Don’t know how she knew.”
“I think she has a network of spies.”
Nick solemnly agreed, his eyes serious.
“I’ll let you finish your lunch. Thanks for the fries.” Truman shoved himself out of the booth.
Nick lifted a hand and focused on his food.
Truman walked the four blocks to Ina Smythe’s little house, taking the time to check in with his office. Eagle’s Nest was eerily quiet, and not a single car passed him. Odd for a lunch hour. It felt as if the entire town were waiting for news on Kaylie Kilpatrick before it could return to normal.
My visit with Ina should get that gossip train moving.
He opened the little white gate and ducked under the low arch. At her front door, he knocked, knowing she wasn’t fond of doorbells.
A moment later the door was open, and she happily ushered him in, her cane thumping. She guided him to the kitchen table, where she had a pot of coffee and a plate of cookies ready. Truman sat and recognized Kaylie’s triple chocolate cookies.
His gut churned, and he lost his appetite.
Ina tipped her head to one side, her sharp gaze on Truman. “Yes, those are from her place. I buy them by the dozen, and Pearl usually delivers them every Monday.”
Truman struggled to speak; his mind was blank.
“She’s a good kid. Mercy has done a wonderful job, considering what Kaylie went through.”
“The doctors are optimistic. She’s stable.” His fallback statement.
Ina’s face lit up. “Good! I’m so glad to hear it. They won’t tell me anything when I call the hospital. They just quote privacy laws. Sheesh. How’s a person supposed to check up on a neighbor?” She poured coffee in his mug. “Good thing they answer my questions about Bree since she’s family, or they’d have the wrath of Ina coming down on them. Now. You said you had some pictures to show me. Where are they?”
Always gets right to the point.
Truman handed her the small stack and reluctantly took a cookie. He stared at it for a moment and then dunked it in his coffee the way Kaylie had urged him to do the first time he’d tried one. He took a bite. Still delicious. A subtle wave of peace came over him as he chewed and watched Ina. He didn’t know if it was the cookie or being in Ina’s home. He and his uncle Jefferson had sat at this table for dozens of meals during his high school summers. Only later did he figure out that Ina and Jefferson had a thing.
Good memories.
Ina set the images aside, except for one.
Truman stretched his neck to look. In his head he’d started to call the image Fat Nathan.
“This one,” Ina said slowly. “I can’t say who it is, but it’s familiar.” She scowled. “It’s old. My memory of this man must be from a long time ago. I see him in my head as young.”
“Any idea how long? Were you married at the time?” he prompted, trying to help her associate the memory with something else.
“Which marriage?” she snorted gleefully.
Only Ina could have four marriages and never suffer from malicious town gossip. Gossip stopped and started with her.
“Good point.”
She carefully laid the image on the table, her face thoughtful. “Let me stew over it a bit. My memory needs a kickstart every now and then.”
Truman cleared his throat. “I understand the latest news on Bree is positive.”
“Did you hear she woke up and spoke today?”
“No!” Truman’s mind raced, and he forced himself to stay in his seat instead of rushing to interview her at the hospital. “Did she say who beat her?”
Ina’s face fell. “No. She mentioned Lucas, but the rest made no sense. Sandy told me she asked to be buried.” Ina shook her head. “That poor girl. She must have thought she was dead. After saying that, she fell unconscious again. Sandy said it didn’t last more than fifteen seconds.”
“It’s a good sign.”
“Agreed. I ordered Sandy to ask the name of the son of a bitch who hurt her so we can catch him.” Her eyes were ferocious. “I want two minutes with a sharp knife and his fingers . . . Make that a dull knife.”
Truman had to smile. This was the Ina he’d always known. “I’ll see what I can do. What can you tell me about Bree when your son, Hollis, met her?”
“Hmmm.” Her gaze went distant. “She was always a pretty little thing. Hollis was instantly crazy for her.”
“Do you know how they met?”
“No . . . Maybe they met at the college in Bend. She was attending full-time, and he’d take a class here and there. He didn’t live with me then.” She chortled. “I always told Hollis she was too good for him. She got her teaching certificate in record time. That girl was driven. She knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life.”
“She was damned good at it,” agreed Truman. “Ollie loved their tutoring sessions.”
“I was so pleased when the state recognized her last year for her teaching talent.” Ina took a long sip of coffee. “When Hollis died, I thought she’d get married again one day. She was such a gem that I figured another man would snap her up right away. But she told me she only had room in her heart for Hollis . . . and Lucas, of course. He’s the spitting image of his daddy.”
“Was she originally from around here?” Truman asked.
Ina’s gaze sharpened. “Is that the point of this trip down memory lane? Bree’s history?”
“We’re trying to catch who attacked her. It helps to know her past. It’s been difficult to find any data before she married Hollis.”
“She wasn’t from around here . . . Northern California.” Her face brightened. “She’d lived in a town called Paradise. Can you believe that? She always joked that she moved from one paradise to another. Have to respect a girl who embraced the beauty of our area.”
“She ever go back to visit?”
“No. She said her parents had passed a few years before she moved, and she didn’t have any other relatives she cared to keep in touch with. I always felt bad for her . . . When she talked about her parents you could tell it hurt. Hollis told me not to pester her with too many questions.” Ina twisted her lips. “I did my best.”
Truman tried to imagine Ina holding her tongue.
“Well now . . .” Ina twisted her hands on the arch of her cane and frowned as she turned to look out the window. “I had it a second ago . . . Dammit.”
“What was that?”
“Shush. Let me think.”
Truman took another cookie and let her think.
Ina picked up the Fat Nathan picture and glared laser beams through it. “This was Hollis’s friend . . . Well, more like an acquaintance . . . High school?” She muttered under her breath for a moment. “Maybe. Or from the real estate office? Nah, that’s not old enough.” More scowls.
A friend of Hollis’s? Hollis had been dead for at least fifteen years.
“Your memory sounds darn good to me, Ina.”
“Stop with the sweet talk.” She waved a hand at him. “I keep associating the picture with high school . . . but my gut tells me that’s not right, and I can’t come up with anything else.” Exasperation crossed her face.
“Any chance you still have Hollis’s high school yearbooks?” Truman asked, crossing his fingers.