Page 76 of Deadline

Dawson could practically hear the gears grinding inside Headly’s head. “Hold on.”

/> While he went to notify Eva and their guests that dinner would be delayed, Dawson glanced over his shoulder. The two detectives were out of earshot but observing him closely. Tucker was stroking his jutting belly, which he used as other policemen did a billy club, to try and intimidate.

Dawson didn’t know how long they would give him, so when Headly came back on the line, he said, “I’m in a time crunch, so listen and don’t interrupt.”

According to the oversized wall clock, he talked for one hundred and twenty-eight seconds, summing up as concisely as possible the events of the past few days, filling in pertinent facts he’d deliberately left out of previous conversations.

When he stopped, the first thing out of Headly’s mouth was, “Jesus.”

“Yeah. The wristwatch thing freaked Amelia out because she’d sensed somebody had been watching her.”

“You.”

“Not me. I told you, she got the feeling before I ever arrived on the scene. Then there were the photographs.” He’d told Headly about them, too, ignoring grunts of disapproval for his having taken them in the first place. “We still don’t know what happened to them. The beach ball also remains unexplained.”

“You said the girl, Stef, was driving Amelia’s car and wearing her rain slicker.”

“A distinctive slicker. She had the hood up. It was dark. Cats-and-dogs rain. From the back, she could easily have been mistaken for Amelia.”

“And Dirk’s gone underground.”

Dawson expelled his breath. “That’s where we are. What do you make of it?”

“You know before asking.”

Yes, he did. “Amelia won’t admit it, but she’s afraid my hunch is right.”

“We could be wrong,” Headly said, musing aloud. “Maybe the nanny got crosswise with somebody, and he or she whacked her.”

“That’s a possibility, of course. But if Stef had an enemy, she didn’t show it. We know of none. And we know definitely that Amelia has one.”

“Okay, if Jeremy’s alive, what would he gain by killing his ex-wife?”

“His children.”

“Shit,” Headly said. “I walked right into that one.”

“He once told Amelia that nothing would keep him from his sons.”

“By the way, I called the local newspaper in Wesson’s hometown, played the FBI ace, and asked that his parents’ obit be e-mailed to me. I laid it on thick. A matter of national security, and so on. Anyhow, I got it this afternoon. It included a picture of two pleasant-looking individuals on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. She was wearing a corsage of roses.”

“Not Carl and Flora.”

“Not even close.”

“So even if Jeremy was their son by birth, he wasn’t reared by them.”

“Looks like.”

Before they could take that topic further, Tucker nudged Dawson’s shoulder and mouthed, “Sixty seconds.”

“I gotta go,” he said into the phone.

“No need to rush now. Eva’s already steamed. But she’ll get over it. She always does.” After a pause, he said, “Dirk needs to be found.”

“Yeah, about that…I thought maybe you could come down.”

“To Savannah?”