Smart girl, he said to himself, and decided to go straight to the point. “Miss Clarke, where were you yesterday afternoon?”
“In San Francisco,” she said without a flinch. “My flight got into Providence an hour ago. Why are you asking me that?”
“Well, you see, it looks as though Jim Fullerton was murdered.”
“Murdered! And you think I...” He heard the beginning of another laugh, but it stopped midstream. For a while all he got was silence, and then he realized she was crying. He waited, giving her time. Even a louse deserves a tear, he supposed.
When she came back on the line, her voice was steady. “I’ve been acting like this is some kind of joke.”
“That was my fault,” he said.
“Well, maybe, but I gave you some room.” She paused. “Jim’s dead. I mean dead. Murdered... Don’t ask me why, but I suddenly thought of his wife and I just started to cry. I didn’t know he was married, not at first. I met him three months ago. He was on one of my flights from Chicago. He’d been at a convention. He really didn’t mean that much to me.”
Player listened to her take a deep breath and wondered if she was going to cry again, but instead she said, “I don’t know if his wife is going to want to hear this from me. But would you tell her how sorry I am?”
“I’ll do that,” he said. “Tell me, what was it about this guy that had you fall for him?”
“He was smart. He seemed to know about a lot of things. He was good at asking questions and then listening. I think maybe it was the listening that got to me. Not many people know how to listen. Men, particularly, aren’t good at that.”
Player had just finished checking out Cindy Clarke’s story with the airline when Kentucky walked into the room. He could tell from the brightness in his eyes that he had some news.
“I just talked to the lab. There were no identifiable prints on the golf club, except for Fullerton’s. Too bad, but no surprise.” He settled himself into the chair alongside Player’s desk. “His car made up for it, though. Enough prints and hair and makeup for a beauty parlor. That Fullerton was one busy boy.”
Player shook his head. “I don’t get a guy like that. All he was interested in was scoring?”
Kentucky shrugged. “Don’t look to me for answers on that. How did you make out with the girlfriend?”
“She wasn’t exactly bowled over when I told her he was dead. But she’s in the clear. She was in San Francisco. And that checks out with the airline.”
Kentucky nodded. “So that eliminates her. Did she have anything else to say?”
“It seems she and Fullerton parted company. She threw him out last week when she found out he’d been making moves on a friend of hers.” Player frowned. “I asked her what was so special about him. She said he was a good listener, and that most men weren’t. That gave me something to think about.”
“And what did you come up with?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Player said, and leaned back in his chair. “What did the minister have to say?”
“The three of them all went to Essex together, just like Sarah said. But they didn’t bring her home. The pastor said her car was at the church, and they left her there at three o’clock.”
Player took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks. “So you think she lied to us?”
“We’ll have to find out about that,” Kentucky said, and Player wondered if he was disappointed. He’d had the feeling the old blue-grass bachelor might have been ready to strum his guitar for the lady.
Kentucky looked at his watch. “Let’s get on over there. If she still has her lights on, we’ll ring her doorbell. If not, we’ll wait until tomorrow. I’d sure like to hear what she has to say about this.”
Sarah had made herself some scrambled eggs for supper and was watching the news when Pastor Bicks called a second time. He asked her if she was sure she didn’t want him to come over. She thanked him, but said she’d rather be alone.
“If you change your mind, let me know,” he said and went on to talk about his visit from the police. “It’s the first time I met anyone from that investigation unit Cranford has now. I’d heard about it, but I hadn’t expected to be meeting them so soon. Detective Reid said there are just two of them. He seemed like a likeable fellow.”
“They were both here,” Sarah said. “The other one is very young. He looks like he could still be in high school.” They said goodbye soon after that and she sat by the phone, trying to decide whether to call Valerie. If it was one of those bad migraines, Val wouldn’t be out of it yet. Sarah decided to wait until the morning.
She thought about tomorrow. Kentucky had said they should have the autopsy report in the morning. After that the body would be released to the funeral home. She should stop thinking of him as Kentucky. It was too familiar. She’d have to close the shop for a few days.
In the living room she turned on WTFM, knowing she could get something soothing and soft there, then took the pad and pencil out of the desk drawer and looked at the list of names she had begun earlier.
She had stopped caring about Jim and his women, or at least that’s what she convinced herself she had to do. But it was always there — the knowing, hovering like a dark cloud, accompanied by wondering who it was. Who would be next?
Who had it been this time? Who had he taken to the woods yesterday? Had someone met him there? Or followed him?
She looked at the names she had written down. There were probably others that she didn’t remember, and some she had never even known about. She leaned back against the sofa and tried to think.
When the doorbell rang, she sat up with a start and realized that she had dozed off. It was almost ten o’clock. She was surprised they were coming this late. The pad and pencil slid off her lap onto the floor. She retrieved them and put them into the drawer. On her way to the door, she turned off the radio and stopped at the hallway mirror to smooth her hair. She was glad she’d thought to wash her face after supper and freshen her makeup.
“Sorry to bother you so late, Mrs. Fullerton,” Kentucky said. “We wouldn’t have, if your lights hadn’t been on, but since they were, we decided not to wait until morning.”
She led them into the living room, and motioned them into the two chairs across from the sofa.
After she had settled herself, Kentucky cleared his throat. “I’ll get right to the point. We talked to Cindy Clarke.”
She nodded. “I hoped that you would.”
“Actually it was Player who talked to her. He’ll tell you about it, but first I want to talk to you about the Reverend. You told us he and his wife dropped you off at your house at four.”
Sarah shook her head. “Did I? I’m sorry, I don’t exactly know what I said. I said a lot of things.” She felt herself flush.
“He told me you got back from Essex at three, that you had your car at the church.”
“That’s right. I drove there for the eleven o’clock service. We went to Essex in Pastor Bicks’s car. It was a good thing. We’d never have made it in mine.”
“How’s that, ma’am?” Player asked.
“I had no trouble getting it started, but I hadn’t gone a block when it began to lose power. I managed to get it to Jerry’s, on the corner of Bellevue and Maple. They’re open on Sundays, but only for gas, and only until four. The attendant said I could leave it there overnight and one of the mechanics would look at it in the morning. They had it fixed by nine-thirty today.”
“You were without a car the rest of Sunday?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
She saw the two of them exchange glances, as though they were surprised by her question.