Free A Discount for Death by Steven F. Havill Page A

kicked him. I was watching from the window. Then she slammed her boot into the taillight of his patrol car. Oh, boy.”
    “And then they took off?”
    “Yes.” She reached over and stroked a strand of hair from Mindi’s eyes. “It was just one thing leading to another,” she said. “Just so stupid.” She ran a finger lightly down Mindi’s cheek. “And I just know that if they hadn’t had a fight, you know what Perry would have done? Eventually, I mean? Colette would have talked him into helping her pack that stupid truck. And he would have done it.”
    “When was Rick here, Mrs. Parker? The last time.”
    “Friday night. He brought the truck up Friday night.”
    “Did you talk with him at that time? Did he say what his intentions were?”
    “No. And if I never talk to him again, it’s too soon. I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to come over and get his truck.” She wrapped her arms around Mindi. “That’s
all
he’s going to get, Sheriff. I’m fifty-one years old. However many good years I’m blessed with are going to these two. I don’t care what it takes.”
    Estelle drew a business card out of her pocket and slid it across the table. “Will you call me, Mrs. Parker?”
    “I don’t know what you can do.”
    “Sometimes it’s nice to have another voice when you’re dealing with custody issues.”
    “Richard Kenderman has no custody, Sheriff. Let me tell you that right now.”
    “If he’s the father, yes he does, ma’am. Because there was no formal marriage involved, and Richard wasn’t actually living here, the court might order paternity testing…if he’s the father, he has a legitimate claim of custody, whether he lives here or not. That’s something that you’re going to have to deal with, I think. In the meantime, our concern is with his brother, Mrs. Parker. There’s one more thing I need to ask you. Last night, you told Sergeant Mears that Perry and Colette had been ‘going together’ for six months. “That’s not really the case, is it?”
    “From Perry Kenderman’s view, it might be,” Barbara Parker said.
    “And you told the sergeant that you didn’t hear what the argument was about?”
    Barbara flushed. “I was trying to keep things simple for a few minutes, Sheriff. I wanted time to think. I know how stupid that sounds, but it’s the truth. And I really
didn’t
hear them…I’m
assuming
that they were arguing about Colette’s wanting to go to Cruces. Perry will tell you.”
    Estelle nodded. She pointed at the card. “Use that, Mrs. Parker.” She got up and pushed the chair back in place. “I promised to look at Ryan’s car.”
    “Oh, you don’t have to waste time on that,” Barbara Parker said. “He’s on to something else by now.”
    “I don’t think it’s a waste,” Estelle said.
    Out in the living room, Ryan Parker had indeed moved on to something else. He was curled up on the sofa, a large red cat stretched on its back across his lap. The cat’s front paws were poised like a boxer, waiting for the imminent attack of a tiny stuffed bear advancing over the top of a pillow.
    Beyond the battle scene, the front window looked out on the street. Estelle saw an older-model pickup truck parked behind hers. Perry Kenderman, dressed in civilian clothes, was leaning against the front fender of Estelle’s county car, obviously waiting.
    “Ay,” Estelle whispered to herself. She crossed to Ryan, bent down, and stroked the massive cat’s belly. The animal squirmed and purred. “What’s your friend’s name?”
    “That’s Franklin. He’s lazy.”
    “I see that.” She stroked the cat’s chin, and the animal closed his eyes, turning up the volume until the purr became a rattle. “Hello, Franklin. You take care of Ryan for me, okay?”
    “Are you coming back?”
    “Yes, I am.” She reached over and ruffled the stubble on Ryan’s head, then let her hand rest there motionless for a moment. The boy blinked, and Estelle felt the slight