Free Past Imperfect by Kathleen Hills Page B

brothers.” Wylie lumbered to his feet, dumped the coffee from his own cup down the drain, thoroughly rinsed both cup and sink, and placed the cup on the counter to refill it. He added a splash of the whiskey and extended the bottle to McIntire. “Facemaker?”
    McIntire shook his head. “I remember,” he said, “how you two were always together when we were in high school. You deserted Mia and me for Nels. We were in awe of the way you stood up to him. He had quite a temper in those days, as I recall.”
    â€œOh hell, that never changed.” Wylie took a swallow of coffee and another swipe at his hair. “As a matter of fact, he flew off the handle the last time I saw him alive.”
    â€œAbout the Slocum kid, you mean? Lucy told me Nels didn’t like him working on his place.”
    â€œActually it was about the sheep. Nels couldn’t stand sheep, raised billy hell about those few scraggly ewes. He was a real horse’s ass about David, though. Didn’t want
him
anywhere on the place either; always harping that he was a lazy bum and accused him of being a thief.”
    â€œA thief?” Lucy hadn’t said anything about that. “Nels didn’t report it to me. What did he steal?”
    â€œNot a gol-damned thing that I know of. He thought David had gone into his house or left some building open, something like that. Nels was always bellyaching about something or other, and I didn’t pay a hell of a lot of attention. It’s not like he had anything a kid would want bad enough to steal it. Davy has his faults, but he seems trustworthy enough to me and works to beat the band as long as I make damn sure he knows what I want him to do. Nels just didn’t care much for him.”
    â€œIs that why David went to work at the crack of dawn? To avoid Nels?”
    A look of mild confusion brought a faint spark of life to Wylie’s face. “I don’t know what time he went to work. I just gave him a job to do and paid him when it was finished. Most of the time I didn’t even see him. But he’d hardly need to plan his work schedule to stay shy of Nels. Nels was usually out on the water by four or five in the morning and generally didn’t get home until after dark. Anyway, this is the first time I heard anybody accuse Davy of being an early riser.”
    â€œLucy says she saw him already hard at work when she left for town the morning Nels died.”
    Wylie smiled slightly for the first time. “Oh well, you know Lucy—sees sprites and fairies too, I don’t doubt. She’s even more of a dingbat than most of her gender. Will she be leaving now, do you know?”
    â€œShe’s just staying put for the time being, afraid that every knock on the door is going to be the evil sheriff come to throw her out in the street. Do you know if Nels left a will?”
    â€œI would imagine he must have. He wasn’t the type to leave things to chance, and he was most assuredly aware of his own mortality. Ever since that first really bad bee sting reaction he was terrified he was gonna keel over any minute.…I kind of wish now I’d been a little more sympathetic, but it seemed almost funny to see that tough old buzzard scared like that…anyhow, will or no will, once the dust settles there might not be much of anything left for Miss Lucy. He mortgaged himself to the gills to buy that boat.”
    â€œHe must have wanted to get out of bee territory pretty bad, to risk all that,” McIntire observed. “In the end, how much good did it do him?”
    â€œWell, he wanted to fish, that’s for sure.”
    â€œWhat kind of bees did he have in the hives in his orchards?”
    Wylie’s eyes widened. “Kind?”
    â€œWhat breed, I guess I mean.”
    â€œJust regular Italian honey bees, same as everybody else around here. Is that what stung him?”
    â€œIt looks like it. For what it’s worth, he