Page 40 of The Summer Guests

“For God’s sake, I have a granddaughter! You think I’d hurt a girl,anygirl?”

“Maybe we should check on the welfare of your granddaughter. Callie, isn’t that her name? Fourteen years old?”

To Jo’s shock, Luther suddenly lunged across the table at Alfond. “Don’t you fucking go near my—”

“Luther!” Jo yelled.

The two men glared at each other; then Luther sank back into his chair, his face florid, his hands shaking. He’d already looked like a wild man when they started this interview, and now he looked truly deranged. She still did not believe Luther capable of hurting the girl, but Alfond had just witnessed Luther’s violent reaction to some well-honed provocation. Then again, Alfond could provoke a reaction from anyone. Just being in the same room with this man set Jo’s teeth on edge.

“Again,” said Alfond, “where did you take Zoe?”

“The pond. I dropped her off at Maiden Pond, and then I went to Augusta.”

“Ah yes, to check out tractor parts. Do you have any sales receipts?”

“Didn’t buy anything.”

“What about that straw bedding you said you picked up?”

“Paid cash. No receipt.”

“Would anyone remember you?”

A beat. “Probably not.”

“You’re a pretty memorable man, Mr. Yount. Big fellow like you. Surely someone can confirm you went to Augusta.”

Luther dropped his head and focused on the table. This was not looking good. The man whom Jo considered harmless, who’d never caused even a whisper of trouble in Purity, now looked more and more deceptive. He could not explain Zoe’s blood in his truck. Nor could he confirm his whereabouts after he dropped her off.

“It looks like you’re going to be staying here for a while, Mr. Yount,” said Alfond. “Maybe a lot longer than just a while.”

“My granddaughter’s at home. I can’t leave her alone.”

“It’s beginning to sound like she’d be saferwithoutyou around.”

“I need to talk to her. Explain.”

“The person you really need to talk to is your lawyer.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Then maybe it’s time you got one. And think about how much easier this would be for you, and for Zoe Conover’s family, if you just came right out and told the truth.”

There was a knock on the door. Jo’s officer, Mike Batchelder, stuck his head into the room. “Jo? Maggie Bird’s here. She insists on talking to you.”

“We’re still interviewing Mr. Yount,” said Jo.

“No, we’re all done here,” Alfond said, and rose to his feet. He gave Jo a satisfied nod. “We just have to wait until Mr. Yount’s ready to tell us the truth.”

Chapter 21

Maggie

She had first encountered State Police Detective Robert Alfond after a young woman was found murdered on Maggie’s property. She had not warmed to him then, and she liked him even less now as she watched how dismissively he treated Jo Thibodeau. He was sitting at Jo’s desk, in Jo’s territory, yet he expected her to fetch him coffee and print him some documents, as if she were his secretary and not the town’s acting chief of police. In Maggie’s previous career, she’d gone head to head with men like him, and while their dismissive attitude was a perpetual annoyance, sometimes it came in useful because being discounted also meant being overlooked. When you can work unseen, much can be accomplished.

At the moment, though, Jo just looked pissed off. She returned to her desk with the sugar and cream that Alfond had asked her to fetch; then she sat down facing him, her lips pressed together as though to suppress any impolitic comments. She waited as he stirred cream and sugar into his coffee, as he took a sip and grimaced at the taste. True, the coffee was probably bitter after sitting on the warmer for hours, but he’d be courting real trouble if he dared ask her to make him a fresh pot.

He set down his cup and finally deigned to look at Maggie. “Now tell us why you think your neighbor is innocent,” he said.