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"I suppose Miss Cashman can verify that?" The question had a double edge and I knew it. No answer was going to be entirely satisfactory in this case. Something told me that Madden didn't like the idea of a crusty, rusty-bearded old man sleeping with the young woman. But if Brenda couldn't verify my whereabouts, who could? |
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"Matter of fact, Miss Cashman can't verify anything; we have separate rooms." The revelation did something for his eyes. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there. "At this stage, I imagine everyone is a suspect." |
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"Chambers Bay ain't much more than a grease spot in the road," Madden scoffed, "and most of the folks around these parts have known each other since the day they was born. That means they know each other pretty well. If I got me any suspects, they'll be outsiders; them's the ones you can't trust." |
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There was no malice in the big man's manner. I knew exactly where he was coming from. I also knew he had a deteriorating situation on his hands that he had no idea how to solve. He began to amble away from the scene of the atrocity down toward the water's edge. When he turned back to face me, his eyes were a giveaway. "I ain't much of a Constable, ain't had much trainin', and it's times like this that make me |
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