“Still a lot of people who qualify.”
“Yes, but the list of tall folks with a motive is considerably shorter,” the chief said. “And Norris Pruitt has the same blasted lack of an alibi as most of the geese, and what’s more, his costume has a noticeable shortage of tailfeathers.”
“Oh, dear.” Perhaps I shouldn’t have repeated what Caroline told me.
Then again, if she and Clarence were helping Norris. . . .
“Just one thing,” the chief asked. “Were you the ones who reported the burglary?”
“No,” I said. “We didn’t know about it until we saw the police cars going by. And our phones have been out for hours. Didn’t someone out at the Pines report it?”
“No,” the chief said. “Their phones probably went out about the same time yours did. And you know what cell phone reception is like out here at the best of times.”
“Don’t you have some kind of caller ID on your 911 line?” I asked.
“It shows the burglary was reported from Geraldine’s Tea Room.”
“That’s only two blocks from the police station. And Geraldine closes at six.”
“Someone jimmied the lock on her back door and used the phone in her office to call in the report.”
“Debbie Anne didn’t recognize the voice?”
“Debbie Anne said the caller was deliberately disguising his voice,” the chief said. “Or her voice. She couldn’t rule out a female caller.”
“And you thought it was me? No way. Do you really think I’m that shy and self-effacing?”
The chief sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.
“I thought maybe you were snooping around there, saw something suspicious, came into town to report it, and got cold feet at the last minute. Afraid I’d chew you out for interfering. And finagled the lock at Geraldine’s so you could report it without being identified.”
“Sorry,” I said. “But it wasn’t me, and I have no idea who it was. Must have been some other bashful good Samaritan.”
Someone knocked on the dining room door.
“Chief?” Sammy Wendell opened the door far enough to stick his head in.
“What now?” the chief asked. He sounded more tired than grumpy.
“We’ve finished inventorying the contents of Mr. Pruitt’s bin,” Sammy said. He looked as if about to say more, then glanced over at me and fell silent.
“Well?” the chief said. “Read it.”
Sammy glanced over at me again, then shook his head and held up a sheaf of papers.
“It’s a long list,” he said. “Do you want the details or the summary?”
“Start with the summary.”
“Okay,” Sammy said. “Electronics: seventeen assorted cameras, six iPods, nine cell phones, three portable DVD players . . .”
I closed my eyes in dismay as Sammy droned on. The list also included jewelry, silverware, purses and wallets—many with the identification still in place—small bits of decorative china and glassware, items of clothing.
Norris Pruitt had been busy. If he’d accumulated this much stuff in just a few months, Caroline and Clarence must have been rather busy, too, after their previous visits to the bin.
Busy covering up for him. Were they still covering up, this time for murder?
I slipped out of the dining room. Sammy was still reading as I closed the door behind me.
“Seven dog collars. Three squeaky toys. Two rawhide bones, partially chewed . . .”
Even without murder charges, Norris Pruitt was in a lot of trouble.
I heard the front door open and turned around to see who it was.
Ainsley Werzel.
“No way back to town tonight,” he said. “Haven’t you people out here in the sticks heard about snowplows yet?”
“We’ve heard about them, yes,” I said. “But considering how few big snows we get here in Virginia, the county wisely doesn’t buy a lot of expensive equipment that would spend most of its time rusting in a garage. And it’s not the snow blocking the road; it’s a giant tree that—”
“Whatever,” he said. “Mind if I sleep in your barn?”
Chapter 22
Better the barn than the house, I supposed, and I was about to give permission when I remembered what else was currently in the barn.
“You’d better bunk here in the living room,” I said. “The barn’s unheated and—”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t mind. I’m sure you’ve got a full house. Don’t want to be a bother. No room at the inn and all that.”
“Yes, but as I was about to say, the police are using the barn right now,” I went on. “And I don’t think they’d be too happy about civilians being in it.”