Tom let out a breath like a tire going flat as he took off his hat and ran a hand back over his short blond hair. Well, hell. No matter how he finds out, when he does, I expect the you-know-whats goin to hit the fan.
Roan favored his deputy with a lopsided grin. I expect youre right about that. Be nice if we had a suspect in hand by the time it does, dont you think? You got any bright ideas where to start looking for one?
Trying not to look thrilled to be asked, Tom hooked his thumbs in his belt while he gave it some thought. Then he puffed out his chest and squinted at the pine-studded horizon. Im thinkin Busters Last Stand-you know, over on the highway?-might be a good place to start. Thats where Jase normally spendsuh, spent his evenings. Somebody in there might know if he ticked off anybody in particular last night. Worse than usual, I mean.
Roan clapped him on the back. Good call. Probably too early right now-best to wait for the evening crowd to assemble before we hit there though. He nodded toward the highway where a van had just turned off onto the lane and was barreling toward them at highway speed, crunching gravel and sending up a cloud of dust. Heres the coroner. Im gonna want you to stay and keep an eye on things for me, Tom. Pick up all the info you can from Doc Salazar and the major-case detectives when they get here, and dont let that bunch from Billings intimidate you, you hear? I want a full report-dont leave out any details. Once everythings squared away here, get on over to the school and get the bus drivers statement. He heaved in a breath and squared his shoulders. Meanwhile, Ill head back to the shop and get the ball rolling on notifying next of kin. After that
Well, he didnt like to think what his life was going to be like after that and for the foreseeable future, but he figured he ought to do what he could to prepare for the inevitable flood of media and law-enforcement out-of-towners. He imagined it was going to be a while before Hartsville settled back down to its quiet and peaceful small-town ways.
One thing, Roan thought as he went to greet the countys coroner and deputy medical examiner, he sure didnt envy the person whose unhappy duty it was going to be to inform Montanas senior senator of the violent death of his only son.
His only acknowledged son, anyway.
Fridays were always busy at Queenies We Pamper You Like Royalty Beauty Salon and Boutique. Tucked between Bettys Art Gallery and Framing and the law offices of Andrews & Klein on Second Street, half a block off Main and just a block down from the courthouse, it was a handy place for any of the downtown crowd with interesting plans for the weekend to drop in on their lunch hour for a wash and set. Its new proprietor, Mary Owen, generally stayed late on Fridays to accommodate the high-school girls gussying up for date night. And, of course, Miss Ada Major, the clerk of the court, whod had a standing five oclock Friday-evening appointment for a wash and set since roughly the Reagan administration.
Honoring Miss Adas Friday five oclock was, in fact, one of the conditions Queenie Schultz, the shops former owner, had made Mary agree to when shed sold the business to her six months ago-that, and a promise to do up Miss Adas hair real nice for her funeral, in the event the lady ever did decide to depart this mortal coil. To be truthful, that second condition had made Mary shudder a bit, and of course Queenie, being down in Phoenix, Arizona, enjoying the heat and sunshine, probably wasnt ever going to know whether Mary actually stuck to that part of the bargain or not. But it wasnt Marys nature to break a promise, and besides, at the rate Miss Ada was going, it didnt look like the issue was going to come up any time soon.
If there was anything Mary Owen had learned in her thirty-seven years it was that life was full of surprises, so there wasnt much point in looking too far ahead or worrying about things that hadnt happened yet. She knew from hard experience how things could change in the blink of an eye.
How are you doing today, Miss Ada? Mary asked as she settled the tall, dignified lady into the chair and gently snapped a drape around her sinewy neck.
Why, just fine, dear, thank you for asking. The circles of rose-pink blush on Miss Adas cheeks crinkled with her smile. Keen hazel eyes highlighted in tissue-papery cobalt blue met Marys in the mirror-then went wide with horrified sympathy. Well, my goodness me, what on earth did you do, hon?
Marys teeth scraped over the tender bulge on her lower lip-a reflex she couldnt help-but her voice was smooth as she replied, Oh, its nothing, just me being stupid and clumsy. I forgot to leave the porch light on last night, and I tripped going up the front steps in the dark. Are we doing color today, Miss Ada?
Miss Ada interrupted her little gasps and cries of commiseration and glanced at her own reflection in the mirror just long enough to murmur, No, no, dear, I think another week, dont you? Her gaze flew upward past her determinedly auburn curls to home in once more on the vivid marks on Marys face. Did you put some ice on those bruises? And I know you dont wear makeup, but you know, a little dab of pancake and some face powder would do wonders.
Oh, like I said, its nothing, really, Mary said cheerfully as she tilted the chair back and settled Miss Adas neck on the lip of the wash basin. Just a little embarrassing. Sohave you been having a good week? Anything exciting going on over at the courthouse?
Keeping her blue lids firmly closed, Miss Ada gave a hoot of laughter. Oh, well, today theres nobody talking about anything but what happened to Clifford Holbrooks boy. You heard about that, I suppose? She sighed heavily, then went on without waiting for Marys answer, her forehead wrinkling in distress. It is a shame-a terrible thing. My heart just goes out to Clifford. He always was a good boy-I was tempted to vote for him in the last election, even if he is a Republican-but that son of his-that Jasonits hard to know, isnt it, how a child from such a nice family can turn out so wrong?
Yes, maam. Mary murmured the all-purpose response shed learned in a former life from a dear Southern friend, warming her fingers in the stream of water and ignoring the deeper chill inside her. Hows that, Miss Ada? Is that gonna be too hot?
No, no, dear, its fine. Well, I suppose Clifford did the best he could, with his wife being in such delicate health most of the time. But that boy always was a bully. She sniffed, then added, Still and all, nobody deserves to die like that. Shot dead right in his own driveway. Makes you wonder if any of us is safe anywhere nowadays. She gave a genteel shudder.
Yes, maam. Mary watched her fingers massage moisturizing shampoo over Miss Adas scalp.
A good thing weve got a decent sheriff in this county, Miss Ada said with a sniff, her festively painted features settling into stern and uncompromising lines. Roan Harley-now theres a fine young man. A real fine man. She opened her eyes and aimed them upward. Have you met our sheriff yet, Mary?
No, maam, I dont believe I have-except to see him driving by, maybe. She wrapped a towel loosely around the old ladys head and raised the chair to its upright position.
Miss Ada pulled one knotted, blue-veined hand from under the drape to touch away a drop of water that had taken the liberty of trickling down her forehead, then gave one of her little hoots of laughter as she met Marys eyes in the mirror. Well, I suppose that is a good thing, isnt it? Not that I expect youd have any reason to fear the law.
Yes, maam, Mary agreed as she began to divide Miss Adas sparse wet hair into quadrants, twisting each segment loosely and securing it with a clip.
Miss Adas face seemed to droop with sadness as her eyes shifted focus to something only she could see, and she spoke more to herself than to Mary. Oh my, that poor man has had more than his share of trials and tragedies to bear, yes he has
Maam? Mary said politely, only half listening, her mind already numbing with the tedium of winding thin strands of Miss Adas hair onto the old-fashioned rollers she favored.
The old ladys eyes snapped back to Marys, light kindling in them now as she prepared to enjoy the kind of harmless gossip people are wont to indulge in with their hairdressers. The boy didnt exactly have a happy beginning, you know. No, he didnt. His mother-Susan Roth, her name was, a perfectly lovely girl-never married, and to be unwed and pregnant in a small Western townwell. You can imagine. You had to admire her, though, she held her head up. Never let her son feel ashamed, either. She worked hard to support herself and the boy-I have an idea the father, whoever he was, mightve helped out some-and she managed to put money away for Roans college. He applied for scholarships and won several-he was a very bright young man. He was going to become a lawyer-that was his mothers fondest wish. But then she got sick and died suddenly.
Normally it was Marys habit to let this sort of gossip flow in one ear and out the other, but for some reason she was finding this particular story hard to ignore. She made murmurs of sympathy, and Miss Ada sighed.
Yesit was sad. Roan came home to bury his mother and never did go back to the university. Instead, he stayed on, married his childhood sweetheart, enrolled in the state law-enforcement academy-I believe hed had a minor in criminology, or forensics, or some such thing, in college. Anyway, he became a deputy, and when Jim Stottlemyer retired, ran for sheriff and got himself elected first try. Youngest sheriff in the history of the county, and I must say, it was the legal professions loss and Hart Countys gain. Roans been a fine sheriff. She paused for another sigh. It should have been one of those and-they-lived-happily-ever-after stories, but it wasnt. No, indeed. Roan Harleys troubles were just beginning.
Really? What happened? Mary turned the chair in order to reach the other side of Miss Adas head, and Miss Adas eyes met hers directly instead of in the mirror. Mary was startled to see a sheen in them that could only be tears.
Im sorry, dear, the elderly clerk of court said with a halfhearted smile. Oh my. Its been four years, but its still hard to talk about it. Seems like it happened just yesterday, yes it does. It was such a terrible tragedy, the kind of thing a small community like this never does get over. She paused, lifted a hand and absently patted the neat row of curlers that marched down one side of her head.