Part 21 (1/2)

”You know what that means, don't you?” I asked.

”Yeah.” He grinned. ”We're back in the game. I'll see if we can get Pendleton to talk.”

”And I'll talk to Maude's husband, Bernard. Maybe he can clarify if one of his wife's bottles was ever missing. He might also be able to explain more about his wife's condition. Help give her an alibi.”

”Sounds like a plan, Tink. Maybe you'll make it through this investigation after all.”

”Gee thanks, ye of little faith.” I smirked.

”Hey, everyone's a suspect in my eyes until a case is closed.” Mitch's smile dimmed, and the detective in him took over full force. ”Including you.”

18.

I pulled my bug up to the large mill on the outskirts of Divinity and parked next to old man Sampson's pickup truck. It was nearly lunchtime, so I figured it was as good a time as any to have a word with him. I chose not to talk to him at home because I didn't want to risk Maude being around to overhear our conversation.

A loud whistle blew, and a minute later the doors opened and workers filed out for their lunch break. Some would remain on-site to eat, while others needed a break from the daily grind. I'd taken my chances that Bernard was one of the latter.

Turned out I was right.

Bernard was one of the last to exit, his shoulders slightly drooping, and his gait a bit heavy. He approached his truck and then stopped short when he saw me. I hopped out of my car and walked over to him.

”Hi, Mr. Sampson. Remember me? Sunny.” I held out my hand.

He shook it warily. ”I remember you. What do you want?”

”Wow, you get right to the point, don't you?” I giggled, but his mouth flattened to a thin line. I stifled my awkwardness. ”I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude on your lunch hour, but I was wondering if I could have a word with you?”

”About what?”

”I was worried about Maude and wanted to see how she's doing.”

”She's fine.” He started to walk around me.

”There's more.” I stepped in front of him, pulling my coat closer together. The temperature was below freezing today.

”You know where I live, why not come to the house?”

”Because I don't want your wife to overhear us.”

He hesitated for so long, I wondered if he'd had a stroke. Finally, he huffed, ”Fine, but I eat in my truck.”

”In your truck? But it's so cold out.”

”I like the cold. Besides, it's the one place that's all mine where I can relax and feel at peace.” He climbed into the driver's side without another word.

I could relate. My sanctuary gave me the exact same feeling. I could only hope I'd get to start up my business again soon. Share a piece of me with the world. I slipped inside the pa.s.senger's side of Bernard's truck, but somehow felt he didn't quite want to share a piece of himself with me.

”I truly am sorry for invading your s.p.a.ce, Mr. Sampson, but I really am worried about your wife.”

His old-fas.h.i.+oned metal lunch box sat open on the worn cloth seat between us, his sandwich already half eaten. He slowly lowered the rest of his sandwich to his lap and looked at me. ”I don't mean to be so gruff, Ms. Meadows, but it's been a long couple of weeks. What do you want to know?”

”For starters, how is Maude?” I asked, full of sincerity. I truly cared about what happened to her.

He jerked his gray head to the side. ”As good as can be expected.”

”Does she remember anything from over the last couple of days?”

”She's fine now, but she doesn't remember anything from when she wandered off.” He looked pained and frustrated. ”She has her good days and her bad, but then again, so do all of us.”

”I hear that,” I said softly, and then I asked the question that I dreaded but needed to be asked. ”Your wife didn't retire from the library. She was fired, wasn't she?”

His eyes whipped up to mine, looking startled and a little afraid, but then he stared off into the distance. ”She had just started to forget things at that time, but it wasn't that bad. We both thought it was part of getting old. We'd worked so hard so we could enjoy our golden years, but then it looked like we wouldn't have any golden years at all. Maude kept saying something was wrong, but I kept insisting she was fine. That maybe if she read more or did crossword puzzles or something, she would get better.”

”But she didn't get better, did she?”

”Nope. Things got worse, but I was in denial. When she got fired for being incompetent, I couldn't bear for anyone to think less of her, so I said she retired. Ms. Robbins felt horrible about having to let her go, so she agreed to tell everyone publicly that Maude retired.”

”But officially she had to put why she was fired in the records, didn't she?”

He nodded, looking sad.

”Don't take this the wrong way, because I really do want to help your wife, but where was she the night of Amanda Robbins's murder?”

”Truth is, this is not the first time Maude has wandered off and not remembered where she was. I've covered for her in the past, but this time she was gone too long. I was afraid something really bad had happened to her, so I had to call the police.” He looked at me with pleading eyes. ”I swear my Maude would never hurt a fly. You have to believe that.”

”You didn't answer my question, Mr. Sampson,” I reminded him softly. ”Where was your wife on the night of the murder?”

He sounded worn-out and exhausted. ”I don't know.”

”You don't know? What do you mean?”

”I came home from work at supper time, but she was gone. I drove around looking for her for hours, and then I went home. She showed up at ten P.M. with no memory of where she'd been.”

I touched his arm, and he flinched. ”Thank you,” I said. ”I know that was hard, but I promise you, I believe you about Maude not being capable of hurting anyone. I have to question her, but I will do everything I can to clear her name. We will find the real killer, I promise you.”

He looked down at his lap and nodded. The whistle on the plant blew, signaling the end of the lunch break. ”Well, I gotta get back to work.”

”Thank you, Mr. Sampson. I'll be in touch.” I climbed out of his truck and looked back, but he just sat there, staring at the steering wheel, looking dejected. I vowed right then and there to find a way to help him get his wife back.

Later that afternoon, I went to the police station. I pa.s.sed Captain Walker in the hall.

”Ms. Meadows. How's the case coming along?”

”We're getting there,” I answered.

”Good. Glad to hear it. Mitch is in his office, down the hall and on the right.”