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The Good, the Bad, and the Emus(95)

By:Donna Andrews


“You said any connection between Cordelia and Smedlock Mining,” Annabel corrected. “And there wasn’t. I’d never heard of Smedlock before, and I try to keep tabs on who’s sniffing around our mountain.”

“I gather the mining engineer you hired wasn’t from Smedlock,” I said. “Are you sure he wasn’t with one of its subsidiaries?”

“He was an independent consulting engineer who’s done a lot of work for environmental groups,” she said. “Because I wanted a hard, cold look at the real environmental consequences of mining up on Biscuit Mountain. What about this Williams person? Is he retired from Smedlock?”

“No idea,” I said. “Chief Heedles will find out, I’m sure.”

Or I could hunt down Stanley and ask him. Probably better not to mention that possibility to Miss Annabel, who was definitely fired up by this conversation, pacing up and down the kitchen with her fists clenched, eyes blazing as if about to lead a charge.

“This might give someone a motive for killing off Cordelia,” I said. “Assuming they wanted to mine the kyanite on Biscuit Mountain and knew she’d do anything she could to stop them. They might figure even if she couldn’t stop them, she could cause them so much trouble that their profit margin would disappear. But what about Mr. Weaver? In this scenario he’s one of the bad guys. Why would they kill him?”

“Thieves fall out,” Annabel suggested. “Maybe he killed Cordelia, and his accomplices were afraid he was about to get caught and spill the rest of their plan.”

“Only I thought our new theory was that the same person killed Cordelia and Weaver,” I reminded her.

“Then perhaps the killer was someone Weaver knew,” Dr. Ffollett suggested. “Someone who was afraid of being identified.”

“What if you did see Mr. Weaver running away the night of Cordelia’s death—” I began.

“No ‘what if’ about it,” Annabel snapped.

“—but instead of being the killer,” I went on, “he was the inconvenient eyewitness who could identify the killer. And the killer, tired of feeling threatened by him—”

“Or possibly tired of being blackmailed by him,” Annabel put in.

“—decided to eliminate the danger of discovery by eliminating Mr. Weaver.”

“I like it,” Annabel said. “It covers all the facts. And Weaver makes a perfectly plausible blackmailer.”

“It doesn’t much matter what we like,” Dr. Ffollett said. “What matters is what Chief Heedles thinks.”

“And what she can prove,” Annabel said. “And thanks to Meg, at least she’s actually doing something now. Meg got her moving, where I failed.”

“No thanks to me,” I said. “It was Mr. Weaver’s murder that got her moving.”

“But is she moving enough?” Annabel said. “Why isn’t she doing more next door? I expected to see CSI people swarming all over Weaver’s house.”

“Oh, so Riverton has CSIs?” I asked. “I thought Chief Heedles only had half a dozen officers.”

“Don’t the State Police have CSIs?” Annabel asked.

“Yes, but someone has to get them involved,” I said. “Preferably the chief. And she might not be all that keen on having them butt in.”

We all fell silent. Dr. Ffollett picked at a slice of toast on his plate. Annabel helped herself to seconds—or was it thirds?—of the bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

“Luckily it’s Chief Heedles’s job to figure all that out,” I said finally. “She wants to see you sometime later today.”

Miss Annabel stopped in the act of spearing a slice of bacon.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “I’m not sure I can bear it.”

“I told you so,” Dr. Ffollett muttered.

“If it would help, I can plan to be here when she comes,” I said. “For moral support.”

“That would be nice,” Annabel said. “And I suppose I can wear my veil. I’d hardly have to look at her, now, would I? It would be almost like talking to her on the telephone. In fact, why don’t you suggest that she just call me once the phones are back,” she added. “It would be so much more convenient for her.”

“She won’t go for that,” Dr. Ffollett asked. “Not even if your phone were already working. You’ll have to face this.”

“Don’t you have someplace else you need to be?” Annabel snapped at him. “Seeing a patient or something?”

“With no power in town?” Ffollett said. “I thought I was being useful here.”