Free Dead in Vineyard Sand by Philip R. Craig Page A

“Were you so sore about her husband that you decided to take it out on her? That sounds like something you might do!”
    â€œDom,” I said. “You should keep your attack doghere caged at least until you feed her. Loose and hungry like this, she’s liable to bite herself to death.”
    â€œI said to stop it!” said Dom, this time in his I-don’t-want-to-say-this-again voice.
    â€œSure,” I said. “No problem. Back to your question, I don’t have anything against Abigail. Like I said, I’ve never even met her. For that matter, I only saw her husband that one time in the fish market, and I wouldn’t have known who he was if somebody hadn’t identified him.”
    â€œYou saw him again in the sand trap.”
    True. “You’re right. I was there when you dug him up. That’s twice, I guess.”
    â€œTell me again about the scuffle in the fish market,” said Dom.
    Police often have people tell them about events several times, in case details change. And they often do, because the people remember things they’d forgotten or forget things they’d remembered before. Or, if they’re lying, they lie differently, adding or subtracting or changing what they’d said before. Out of all this, the police hope to find out what really happened.
    I told him what happened. When I was done, he said, “That’s not how Annie Duarte saw it. She says you started it and would probably have killed Highsmith if you hadn’t had witnesses.”
    I was already annoyed with Annie Duarte. I said, “Annie Duarte and Joanne Homlish aren’t sisters, are they? Neither one of them seems to know what she’s looking at.”
    Dom smiled coldly. “They may make good witnesses in court.”
    Court had not been mentioned before. “There were several people in the fish market,” I said. “Annie Duarte isn’t the only one who saw what happened. Check outsome of the other witnesses before you decide what really went on.”
    â€œYou don’t need to tell us how to do our job!” snapped Olive.
    â€œThis is the third time I’ve told you two to cut that crap,” said Dom in a mild voice that deceived no one. “I’m not going to say it again.” He looked at Olive and she seemed to shrink inside her uniform. Then he looked back at me.
    â€œOfficer Otero is correct,” he said. “I don’t know yet what’s going on here, but we have a probable murder and a possible assault that may be linked, and you’ve been tied to both victims. If I were you, I’d give thought to getting myself a lawyer. Meanwhile, stay out of our way and let us handle this.”
    â€œSure,” I said, hearing anger in my voice. “You already think I may be involved in both of these felonies, but you want me to trust you to do your jobs. I’d trust you a lot more if you hadn’t already made up your minds!”
    Dom’s voice was intended to be soothing. “Nobody’s mind has been made up, J.W.”
    I stared at him and he stared back. I tried to push my anger and fear away, but only partially succeeded.
    â€œAre we through here?” I asked.
    Dom nodded. “For the time being, but don’t take any long trips. I may want to talk with you again.”
    â€œI live in paradise,” I said. “Why would I want to leave?” I got up and went to the door and stopped. “I had nothing to do with Highsmith’s death or his wife’s accident,” I said.
    â€œSo you say.”
    I went out, feeling Dom’s cold eyes and Olive’s hot ones on my back.
    As I drove home, I fought against both my fear andmy anger. I felt trapped. I didn’t like it, and worked to control my emotions before I got back to the house.
    There, Zee was preparing supper. She stopped and came to meet me. “What happened, Jeff?”
    I put my arms around her. “Nothing,