Free Murder Among the OWLS by Bill Crider Page B

He’s younger than she was.”
    â€œNot by much. Not enough so that he’d want to wait.”
    Brant seemed convinced, but Rhodes thought that there must be other possibilities.
    â€œShe didn’t have any enemies?”
    â€œHelen? Of course not. Everybody loved her. She was in a lot of clubs and groups. Ask anybody.”
    Rhodes heard a noise in the hallway outside his door. Then someone knocked.
    â€œWho’s that?” Brant asked.
    â€œI don’t have any idea.” But Rhodes did have an idea, or maybe it was a premonition. He stood up and went to the door. He opened it, and Jennifer Loam stood there looking up at him.
    â€œYou can run,” she said, “but you can’t hide.”
    Rhodes didn’t ask how she’d tracked him down. She’d been to the courthouse office before, so it wasn’t surprising that she had figured he might be there. She’d probably seen his car parked behind the building.
    â€œAren’t you going to ask me in?” she said.
    Rhodes opened the door wider and stepped back so the reporter could come inside. He closed the door behind her and went back to his desk. Brant stood up. Jennifer said hello to him and sat in a chair near his. When she was seated, Brant sat back down.
    â€œYou two know each other?” Rhodes said.
    â€œI’ve interviewed Colonel Brant for the paper,” Jennifer said.
    Rhodes noticed that she used Brant’s military rank, which was probably important to the man, even though he hadn’t been in the service for years. Some ex-military people that Rhodes had
known always liked to recall their time in the service. Brant was obviously one of those, because he brightened when she used the title.
    â€œShe did a fine job of writing up the interview, too.” Brant smiled. “Didn’t misquote me a single time.”
    Rhodes thought of asking how many times she did misquote him, but this wasn’t the time for wisecracks.
    â€œI don’t suppose you came here to interview him again.”
    â€œNo.” Jennifer got out her digital recorder. “I came here to ask about the quarrel at the mobile-home park.”
    â€œThat was just a private misunderstanding,” Rhodes said.
    â€œYes,” Brant said. “That’s all it was. It wasn’t anything your readers would be interested in.”
    â€œI’m sure.” Jennifer’s tone let them know she didn’t believe a word of it. “Just a man chasing another man around a mobile-home park with a chain saw. Nothing interesting about that at all.” She paused and put on a thoughtful look. “But if that’s so, why are you two hiding out in here? Just talking over old times?”
    â€œWe’re not hiding out,” Rhodes said. “We had to straighten out a few things. All it boils down to is that Mr. Thorpe got hit with a shovel.”
    â€œMy sources tell me there was a little more to it than that, but I’ll settle for your telling me how that happened.”
    â€œIt was an accident. The shovel slipped out of Mr. Brant’s hand.”
    â€œWow,” Jennifer said with a straight face. Rhodes thought she would have done well in one of Thorpe’s Texas Hold ’Em games. “The readers are going to love that one. Are you sure you can’t do any better?”
    â€œTo be honest,” Brant told her, “I thought he’d killed Helen Harris.”

    Jennifer smiled a thin, meaningless smile at Rhodes. “I thought Mrs. Harris had an accident.”
    â€œThat’s what I think,” Rhodes said, not mentioning that Brant didn’t feel the same way. For that matter, Rhodes wasn’t sure he felt that way, and Jennifer probably knew it. “However, it’s still under investigation.”
    â€œRight. That’s a nice noncommittal phrase, under investigation . What does it mean exactly?”
    â€œI’ll bet you know.”
    Jennifer thought it