“What kind of feed comes in the larger size?” Mattie moved toward the stacks of burlap bags, which looked full and heavy. When she ran her fingers over it, the burlap felt coarse and scratchy, bringing the abrasions on Candace’s face to mind, and dust from the grain inside the bag filtered through the weave of the fabric. One of these dirty bags could definitely cause an allergy attack for someone as susceptible as Candace.
“Cattle and horse feed come in the larger size. Some of the pig feed too,” Jed replied. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
Mattie could tell he thought he was going to make a sale. “How many of these large sacks of feed do you sell each day?”
“Oh . . . it varies. Some days, none. Some days, a rancher comes in and we load up the bed in his pickup.” The kid tried again. “What type of feed do you want? Horse?”
“That’s what you said comes in the larger bags, right? Feed for horses, cattle, and pigs. So it’s mostly ranchers and farmers that buy the large size?”
He seemed to finally get it that she wasn’t here as a customer and it was information she was shopping for. “Pretty much. Town folks need the chicken feed, a few keep goats. The folks living outside of town are usually the ones that buy in bulk.”
Outside of town, like Brooks Waverly’s family.
“Tell me, does Mr. Waverly buy his feed here?”
“He does. He buys feed for both cattle and horses.”
She realized it might have been fortuitous that the owner had left for lunch, because this kid didn’t seem at all reticent to talk. “I suppose you keep records of who your customers are.”
He paused, thinking. “Well, there are credit card slips. Some of the big customers keep an account, and Mr. Randall bills them once a month.”
“Does Juanita or Burt Banks buy the feed in the large bags?”
Jed’s face darkened. “Juanita isn’t here today. I suppose you know about her daughter, you being a police officer.”
Mattie nodded and waited for him to answer her question.
After a pause, during which she could literally see him thinking about his coworker and her daughter, he gave himself a slight shake and turned back to their previous conversation. “As far as I know, they don’t have big animals. Juanita lives here in town.”
“Did you know her daughter?”
He bowed his head. “I’ve seen her. She’s come by the store a couple times. Can’t believe she died. Poor Juanita.”
When he raised his eyes and met Mattie’s, she saw genuine sorrow and sympathy there. She nodded to indicate her agreement. Wondering which other ranchers and farmers bought feed in bulk, she decided to test her boundaries. “Could I see a list of people who keep accounts?”
A look of regret crossed his face. “Mr. Randall keeps the accounts in his office. We make a note of a sale on the day sheet and pass it on to him. I’d better not take you in his private office, but I’m sure he’d be glad to talk with you when he gets back around one o’clock.”
“Do you know how many people around here buy the large bags? Just a guess.”
He seemed puzzled but continued to try to be helpful. “Gosh, I don’t know. Maybe fifty or so.”
Not as bad as they thought, if they narrowed it down. “You’ve been a lot of help. Thank you for your time.”
He smiled, sort of a boyish grin. “Sure. Do you want to buy some chicks?”
Mattie moved toward the door where the chicks were on display. They’d stopped cheeping earlier, but as she approached the box, they got with it again. “No, thanks,” she said, smiling. “I have a German shepherd who might not take kindly to sharing his yard with chickens.”
The kid grinned back at her. “I guess not.”
Mattie said good-bye, and the bell over the door tinkled as she let herself out. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been able to look at the customer list. It was enough to know it existed, and if they needed a copy of it, she was sure they could get a warrant. Judge Taylor wouldn’t drag his feet this time, not with the death of another teenager under investigation. He’d learned that their team didn’t ask for warrants without solid reason.
Robo greeted her with his sharp grin as she climbed into the Explorer. Around fifty customers that bought feed in bulk didn’t seem too overwhelming. Of course, there might always be the customer that bought the odd bag here and there, but at least it was a place to start. And the most valuable nugget she’d gleaned was that burlap bags held cattle, horse, and pig feed.
The kids from farms and ranches would be the ones most likely to have access to the empty bags. Like the quarterback, Brooks Waverly.
By midafternoon, they’d interviewed the town kids, Casey Rhodes and Josh Barnaby. Their stories were close to identical, and the parents seemed as dismayed to hear about their offspring’s wayward behavior as the law enforcement officers had been. Both boys confessed to sexting with the victim—there was no use denying it when Stella produced proof—as well as setting up appointments to “hook up” with the girl in a threesome.
Mattie’s gut flinched when she heard it.
Both stated that they were innocent of any foul play centering around her death and, with parental permission, allowed Stella to swab the inside of their cheeks for DNA samples. Both denied ownership of the black cap Robo had found on the hillside.
The boys also insisted that their fling with Candace had ended, and they had no qualms about throwing Brooks Waverly under the bus. Both indicated that Brooks was the one currently involved with Candace.
When the parents escorted their sons from the interview room, Mattie had the distinct feeling that the boys might be grounded for life, or at least she hoped they would be. Rhodes’s father actually smashed his son’s cell phone under his boot right outside the station door in the parking lot.
Mattie stood by Rainbow’s desk in the lobby waiting for Brooks Waverly and parents to arrive, so she was first to notice the long, sleek Cadillac glide into the parking lot. It bore license plates that proclaimed, “HOTSHOT,” and she knew that Justin McClelland, Timber Creek’s sole attorney, owned that car.
When McClelland didn’t get out of his car to come inside, she decided he was waiting for someone, and she had a suspicion she knew whom that someone might be. She excused herself from her conversation with Rainbow and went to Stella’s office.
She tapped on the door and stuck her head inside. “Justin McClelland is waiting out in the parking lot. Probably for our next appointment to arrive.”
Stella pushed her reading glasses up to the top of her head and gave Mattie a pained look. “Okay. Thanks for the heads-up. Let them wait in the interview room for a while.”
By the time Mattie returned to the lobby, McClelland was leading the way into the station with Brooks Waverly and a man who had to be Brooks’s father. Brooks was a tall, muscular kid with auburn hair, handsome features, and dark-brown eyes surrounded by thick lashes that any girl would love to have. When Mattie saw him at school, he was typically polite, well liked by teachers as well as students, but today, his handsome face appeared tight with stress, and his friendly smile was absent. His father was an older version of Brooks—a little thicker around the waist, a few gray hairs at the temples—and he also wore a grim expression.
Mattie decided to treat the teen like an adult and met him halfway across the room with her hand outstretched. “Hello, Brooks. Thank you for coming in.”
“Deputy Cobb.” The kid’s familiar smile flashed briefly while he shook her hand. “This is my dad, Jack Waverly.”