Free A Murder In Passing by Mark de Castrique

question sobered me. “We are. And I have Harry Young to thank.”
    â€œHarry?”
    I told her about my visit with the Mayor in the critical care wing and how our discovery of what happened to his father meant so much to him. “Marsha’s plea came right after that. Her need can’t be less than Harry’s.”
    Nakayla smiled again, this time with sympathy. “I know. But Harry wasn’t facing the possibility that his mother killed his father. Marsha might not like the answer we uncover.”
    â€œLucille Montgomery is a sweet old lady.”
    â€œAnd forty-five years ago she was a single mother trying to raise a daughter in a segregated society—a society forbidding her to marry the father of her child. Who can be sure what happened in the summer of 1967?”
    â€œYou’re recommending we back away?”
    â€œI’m saying we go into it with eyes open. Harry and Marsha come out of very different circumstances and you’re kidding yourself if you envision a resolution that will give Marsha the satisfactory closure we provided Harry.”
    Nakayla was right. Taking the case meant following the leads and evidence to the conclusion, no matter how painful or ugly it might be.
    â€œOkay. Then here’s what I know so far.” I looked at my notes, trying to decipher my terrible handwriting. “According to Marsha, Jimmy Lang met her mother in 1956 or 1957. Jimmy ran a trash hauling business. Back then, Hendersonville had a service for the town but the county left it up to the individual residents and businesses outside of town to transport their trash to the county dump.”
    â€œHe was a garbage man,” Nakayla said.
    â€œYes. Lucille worked as a cook in the cafeteria at Flat Rock High School. Jimmy had the contract for school trash removal for that end of the county. Jimmy and Lucille became friends because she would see that the waste from the cafeteria was divided into food remains and general garbage.”
    â€œWhy was that important?”
    â€œJimmy would re-cook the food as slop for his hogs. He had a small farm between Flat Rock and Tuxedo not far from the old Kingdom and not far from Lucille’s place that also borders the current Bell property. That first Christmas after they met, Jimmy brought Lucille a home-cured ham for her and her mother.”
    â€œLucille lived with her mother?”
    â€œYeah. Or her mother lived with her. Lucinda was her name. She died in 1960 before Marsha was born. Breast cancer. Jimmy Lang evidently started checking in on both women, doing handiwork for them, and he and Lucille fell in love.”
    â€œDid Marsha say any more about the stolen photograph?” Nakayla asked.
    â€œIt was in a black wooden frame and Marsha thinks it was an eight-by-ten but she knows everything looks bigger to a five-year-old. Her great grandmother Loretta, her grandmother Lucinda, and her mother Lucille were in the picture. All Ls. Marsha said her mother decided it was time to move on to M.”
    â€œAnybody else in the photo?”
    â€œA few others who came with Julia Peterkin had ties to the Kingdom. That’s what Doris Ulmann wanted. A gathering of the king’s subjects. They stood in front of an old stone chimney, one of the last remaining vestiges of the cluster of cabins.”
    â€œWhat do you know about Loretta?”
    â€œHer name was Loretta Johnson. She was born in 1875 and grew up in the Kingdom. She died in 1940.”
    Nakayla thought a moment. “Any men in this picture?”
    â€œNot that she mentioned. Why?”
    Nakayla shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering if the photograph could have been stolen because someone knew its value or because someone didn’t like the subject matter.”
    â€œThat’s a question for Lucille. Marsha said I can talk to her tomorrow.”
    Nakayla glanced at the pad in my hand. “Anything else?”
    â€œNo. I let Marsha off easy. I