Free STATE OF ANGER: A Virgil Jones Mystery Series (Detective Virgil Jones Mystery Series Book 1) by Thomas Scott

Sam had married, but at the time Pate was
not yet famous and Amanda was just a girl he’d known a long time ago for a very
short while. Under any other circumstance he might have been surprised that she
recognized or even remembered him, but Virgil and Amanda had a history of a
single shared encounter, one which could have been beautiful, or at least just
plain old fashion fun, but in the end was neither.
    Virgil accepted her invitation and
crossed the threshold of the front door and when he did, he found himself suddenly
conflicted about the nature of his visit and her eagerness to so willingly
invite him into her home. He was in her house as an investigative officer of
the state of Indiana and not a casual visitor or long lost lover from decades
ago and he wondered if the warmth in her eyes and the look of fondness upon her
face were as manufactured as the accent of her singsong voice. Regardless of
the purpose of his visit, Virgil had to admit she was still as easy to look at
now as she was twenty years ago. She wore tennis whites, and her shirt was damp
with perspiration. When she closed the door the two of them endured one of
those clumsy moments old lovers are often faced with when an unexpected chance
encounter brings them together. She stepped forward, her arms open to hug him
at the same time he put his right arm out to shake her hand. It was awkward and
Virgil thought she laughed a little too quickly and perhaps a touch too long.
In the end, they went with the handshake.
    They looked at each other for a
moment before Virgil broke the silence. “It’s been a long time, Amanda.”
    “It has been a long time, hasn’t
it?” she said. “I just put some coffee on. Why don’t you come join me?”
    She placed her hand in the crook
of his arm in an effort to lead him through the house, but Virgil held himself
steady and refused to go along with her. When she felt the resistance she
turned her head and Virgil saw her smile falter. “I’m here in an official
capacity, Amanda. I need to speak with Samuel. Perhaps yourself as well, but
I’d like to have a word with your husband first.”
     “Is this about Franklin?” she
asked. “Why would you want to talk to Samuel about that?”
    Virgil made note of her referral
of the victim by his first name, then answered her question. “Yes, it is about
Franklin Dugan’s murder. I’m investigating on behalf of the state. It’s what I
do, Amanda. Is your husband home?”
    “No, I’m afraid he is not home, Detective .”
    “Where is he?”
    “He’s at the church. They always
tape Sunday’s broadcast a few days ahead of time then edit it down for time. I
know a lot of people think it’s live, but it’s not. It’s taped. We make no
secret about that, you know.”
    The defensiveness, Virgil thought,
was probably a large part of her life in general so he drew no conclusions from
the words she spoke or the manner in which they were delivered. “I wouldn’t
know, Amanda.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “It doesn’t mean anything other
than I am not a member of your church, and I don’t watch your televised
broadcasts. How well did you know Franklin Dugan?”
    “Are you asking me that question
in an official capacity? Aren’t you supposed to read me my rights or
something?”
    “We only read you your rights if
you are under arrest, which you are not. Could you please just answer the
question?”
    “I could, but I choose not to. My
rights are the same whether I’m under arrest or not and in this particular
instance, I choose to remain silent. If you have any questions for my husband,
or me, I suggest you contact our attorney. Better yet, I’m sure he’ll be in
touch with you. And your boss.” She opened the front door. “It was great seeing
you, Jonesy,” she said, her manufactured east Texas accent suddenly gone, but
her voice still thick with sarcasm. “Maybe next time we see each other it won’t
be in an official capacity.”
    “I seriously