She tapped ash into an ashtray and eyed him suspiciously. “Look, what the hell is all this about?”
“Just following up leads with my dad’s case.”
“I see. I didn’t know your daddy all that well. But I never heard anyone say a word against him. Good man. I was sorry to hear about all the trouble he’s in now.”
“Do you think he could have killed your ex?”
“I don’t know. I can tell you I wanted to kill Sherm many times. Just never had the guts to do it.” She paused. “He was proud of you, I know that.”
“Who? Your husband?”
“No. Your daddy.”
“How do you know that?”
“Many’s the time I sat on the bleachers next to him at the games, that’s how. This was before I got divorced, of course. Two of my boys played for Cantrell. They were ahead of you in school by a few years, but I still went to all the home games even after they graduated. Anyway, your daddy would cheer like mad. Tellin’ everybody around him what a tough son of a gun you were. Thought the man would pop with pride.”
“He never said anything to me.”
“Well, some men are like that. I don’t think Sherm ever complimented his boys either. Probably afraid it would make ’em soft if they thought they’d get praised for everythin’. So the idiot never said a kind word to ’em.”
“I guess some men are wired that way,” said Robie quietly, drawing a sharp glance from Reel.
Cassandra smiled and pointed a finger at him. “Now, you quarterbacked the Panthers to the state championship. Only good thin’ that ever happened in Cantrell, far as I’m concerned.”
“Thanks.” He paused and pondered how best to say it. “I remember your farm. It was a big one.”
“I remember that farm, too,” she replied. “And none of those memories are fond ones. We never made a dime growin’ crops. Worked our asses off for peanuts.”
“But then the mineral rights were sold. And Sherm parlayed that into business ties with the casino folks. And then the cash flow picked up nicely. And then you divorced. All pretty fast, actually. Just over a few years.”
She looked at him suspiciously again. “You seem to know a whole lot about our business.”
“I like to know things. Like, for instance, what sort of dealings your husband had with Henry Barksdale and Nelson Wendell.”
Robie emphasized the names to see the woman’s reaction.
Her complexion changed. “Nelson Wendell? The oilman? How would we know him?”
The lie was not very good, thought Robie.
“What energy company bought the mineral rights to your property, Ms. Clancy?” asked Reel.
The woman turned to face her. “Why does that matter?”
“It would matter if it was Coastal Energy.”
Cassandra stood and said darkly, “I want you two outta my house. Right now.”
Neither Robie nor Reel moved.
Robie said, “People have died, Ms. Clancy. Murdered. Including your husband. We know why he was murdered. Do you? And do you want to be next?”
Her lips were trembling but Cassandra still stood there looking defiant.
“I think you should sit down,” said Reel. “And let’s talk about this before things get even worse.”
Cassandra abruptly sat, smoked down her cigarette, and hastily lit another.
“There’s a shack on the back part of your farm, you remember that?” asked Robie.
Cassandra said nothing.
He took out the photo and slid it across to her. “This was taken inside that shack, wasn’t it?”
Cassandra glanced at the photo and then just as quickly looked away.
“And that man is the late, if unlamented, Nelson Wendell,” added Reel.
Robie tapped the photo. “The thing is, Cassandra, where did the little kids come from?”
The woman’s face turned red and she started to breathe more heavily. She grabbed her chest. “I think I might be having a heart attack,” she gasped.
“I think you’re having a panic attack. We can call an ambulance if you want. But my question will still be out there. And maybe the police will be the ones to come and ask you next time.”
Her chest stopped heaving and she glared at him venomously. “It’s not legally actionable anymore. They have to file criminal charges before they turn twenty-one. And the statute of limitations has run on the civil side, too.”
“You checked the law, so you must have known all about it, then,” said Robie.
Cassandra was trembling. “If my ex did somethin’ bad, that’s on him, not me.”
“So where did the kids come from?”
“I have no idea what you’re even talkin’ about.”
“But like you said, you’re home free, Ms. Clancy. The law can’t touch you now.”
She tapped her ash and said nothing.
“Your kids doing okay?”
She said warily, “Yes. And the grandkiddies, too. Got six of ’em. All just fine.”
“Unlike the kids in the shack. Did you and your husband befriend folks saying you’d take care of their kids for them while they were working, maybe? And instead you let two pedophiles loose on them?”
She barked, “You two get the hell outta my house. Now! Before I call the cops.”
“The cops know we’re here,” said Robie. “We’re working with Sheriff Monda on this.”
Cassandra nearly dropped her cigarette. “He…he knows you’re here?”
Robie nodded.
“He knows a lot,” said Reel. “Pretty much everything we do.”
She sputtered, “I-it’s not actionable. I–I’m tellin’ you that. It’s n-not.”
“But that’s not the same as the truth coming out. They may not be able to take you to court, but I wonder how your kids will take the news. And your grandkids.”
“I’ll sue you. That would be slander. I’ll sue you!” screamed Cassandra.
“Well, one absolute defense to slander is the truth.” He pulled out his phone and held it up. “I recorded everything you said.”
“That’s…that’s illegal.”
“Is it? Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think it’ll matter to your family.”
“I…I…”
“You might want to think about moving to another country and assuming a new identity,” said Reel. “Because your life, as you know it, is over. I don’t think folks around here would like a pedophile’s helper.” Reel looked around at the fine property. “I hope it was worth it,” she added.
Cassandra slumped back in her chair. “Look, can we come to some sort’a understandin’?”
“Like what?” asked Robie.
“I tell you what I know and you forget I’m part of this at all.”
“Let’s hear what you have to say.”
“But—”
“Let’s hear what you have to say,” said Robie more firmly.
Cassandra finally nodded and sat forward, stubbing out her cigarette. She drew a few long breaths and began.
“See, the thing was we had seasonal workers comin’ through,” she said, her voice trembling a bit. “They came through every year, usually from Mexico or Central America. And some of them were black folks, itinerant workers, tryin’ to get by.”
“But no white kids then?” said Robie.
“No, none that I can remember. They worked the fields all day when we were harvestin’. Most had kids, little kids. Me and my daughter would watch ’em and even do a little schoolin’ with ’em. That was all. I swear to God.”
“Okay, when did things start to change?” asked Robie.
“Sherm came to me one day and said he’d had a visitor. Apparently, Henry Barksdale got wind of the little kids we kept in the shack on the edge of our property. He had a friend, he said, who would pay well if we…”
“If you left him alone with the kids for a while each day?” said Reel.