Free Dead Giveaway by Leann Sweeney Page B

Will can take possession.''
      ''Okay. We'll be there.''

    7

    About four Monday afternoon, after Will and I stopped at the lab to get his blood drawn for the DNA comparison, we arrived at the Bottlebrush police station. Green-gray mold crept along the walls under the gutter of the beige brick flat-roofed building. From the style, the station must have dated back to the sixties, and obviously the sun did not shine on the front door of Bottlebrush PD.
      A white patrol car sat parked in front alongside Burl's Land Rover. The Rover's navy blue paint glittered in the late-afternoon sun like it had been washed and waxed this morning.
      ''Nice ride,'' Will said, nodding in appreciation as we walked by.
      ''Burl Rollins is obviously a man who's proud of his horse,'' I answered.
      Will held the door for me, and we entered the station. Burl was sitting behind a waist-high counter and stood to greet us.
      ''This can't be that ten-pound baby that spent the night with me.'' Burl, who wore a short-sleeved blue shirt and purple necktie circa 1970, grinned like he'd eaten a banana sideways. He came around the counter and shook Will's hand, gripping the kid's shoulder with his other.
      I wasn't even acknowledged until their happy reunion ended about thirty seconds later.
      Finally Burl looked at me. ''Thanks for coming, Abby. I'll get Mary to cover the phone so we can talk. She's on break.'' He disappeared down a short hall behind the counter and returned a few seconds later with a young black woman in a brown uniform. She held half a sandwich in her hand and nodded at us before taking the seat Burl had been occupying when we arrived. Only two cops. Big change from my visit to HPD on Saturday, where officers were as thick as bats under a San Antonio bridge.
      The gun belt strapped around Burl's waist seemed to dance with his steps as he led us to his office, a room about twice the size of my closet, though far neater. One entire wall was lined with filing cabinets, and labeled boxes were stacked to the ceiling. He had made room for pictures of his family on the table behind him, right next to the computer. The woman that I assume I'd spoken to on the phone the other night was flanked by three teenage boys. The youngest had a smile crammed with braces.
      We all sat, Burl behind his desk and Will and I in folding chairs across from him.
      ''Three boys?'' I said. ''Bet that's a challenge.''
      ''Smells pretty bad at our house some days. Sorta like a locker room, huh, Will?''
      They both laughed while I inwardly winced in sympathy for Mrs. Rollins.
      ''Let's get down to business,'' Burl said, looking at me. ''Did you mention our, uh, theory about Verna Mae to Will?''
      ''He's aware she might have been his mother,'' I said.
      Will folded his huge hands in his lap and stared at them.
      ''How do you feel about that, son?'' Burl asked.
      ''It is what it is,'' he answered softly.
      ''I'm sure Abby's told you it may not be true. For proof, we'll need your DNA. I can grab something of Verna Mae's for hers.''
      ''Actually,'' I said, ''HPD is already on that.''
      ''Oh,'' Burl said.
      I sensed his disappointment, affirmation of my earlier guess that he wanted a part in this investigation. I could see why. This was his town, his unsolved case.
      ''Sergeant Kline isn't even sure Will's abandonment has anything to do with Verna Mae's murder,'' I said, ''but in case it does, he wants to know if she was Will's biological mother.''
      ''I understand.'' Burl looked at Will. ''The probate lawyer been in touch yet?''
      ''Um, no.'' Will seemed a little confused by the question.
      ''He said I can turn the keys over to you.'' Burl pulled open the middle desk drawer and took out an envelope, which he slid toward Will.
      ''She had a spare set of keys?'' I said.
      ''Yup. Hanging right there on a hook in the kitchen. So unless some relatives appear out of nowhere to contest the will, the