Page 87 of Obsession

The man seemed to shrink another inch. “Guess there’s no need to stand out there in the cold,” he said and stepped back.

They followed him inside to the living room, where a single lamp beside a worn leather recliner broke the darkened gloom. Newspapers lay strewn about, making Sam wonder where Mrs. Selby was.

“Sit wherever you can find a spot,” Mr. Selby said and sank into the old recliner.

Sam sat on the sofa across from Selby while Emma moved clothes from the only other chair and sat on the edge. “Your wife, is she here?” Sam asked.

The old man shook his head. “Passed a month ago.”

Beside him Emma gave a small gasp. Sam was just as surprised. His research hadn’t shown that Jane Selby had died. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“She’s better off now. At least she’s with Mary Jo and knows what happened. I wish I was with her.” Selby turned to Emma. “And you are ...?”

“Emma,” she said. “And I’m so sorry about your wife.”

He nodded and blinked away the wetness in his eyes before turning his attention back to Sam. “What is it that you want?”

“New information has come to light, and your daughter’s case is being reopened,” Sam said.

Selby gaped at him, then closed his mouth. “Have they found the Winters kid?”

Sam noticed Emma flinch. This was going to be difficult in more than one way. “Something like that.”

“Where’d you find him? Alaska? That’s where Sheriff Carter thought he ran off to.”

“We found him buried at Mount Locust,” Emma said, her voice tight. “And he’d probably been there all this time.”

Selby turned to her, his eyes rounded. “I ... I don’t understand.” A range of emotions crossed his face, and he shook his head as if to clear it. “But ... Carter said the Winters boy killedMary Jo. Why would he be dead ... unless he didn’t murder my daughter?”

“We’re almost certain he didn’t kill her,” Sam said. “We figure the same person is responsible for both of their deaths. Can you answer a few questions for me?”

“I don’t know much. Could I call my daughter and get her to come over here?”

“Sure. Does she live nearby?”

“Next house up the road.” He picked up the receiver to an old push-button phone, and after he explained that someone wanted to talk to her about Mary Jo, he frowned. “I’ll see.” He turned to Sam. “Sandra wants to talk to you.”

Sam took the phone and identified himself as Emma carried on a conversation with Mr. Selby.

“Dad said you’re there about Mary Jo,” Sandra said. “What exactly do you want?”

He moved as far as the landline would allow him. “Last night I talked with Charlie Shaw, and—”

“Please don’t mention his name or the Hideaway to Dad. It really gets him down. He can’t handle that Mary Jo went to a place like that.”

“I’ll do my best,” Sam said, lowering his voice. He would move to another room except the phone was attached to a cord. “Shaw said she was with a date at the beginning of the night. Do you know who that might have been?”

“Before I answer any of your questions, I want to know why you’re investigating her death again. Sheriff Carter all but assured my parents that Ryan Winters killed my sister.”

Sam explained what they’d discovered.

“Oh no. His poor family,” she said. “I taught Ryan in the tenth grade and never quite believed Sheriff Carter’s accusation.”

“What do you mean, you taught Ryan?”

“I taught English at Natchez High School for fifteen years—until I took a leave of absence last year to take care of Mom. Ofcourse, when Mary Jo attended Natchez High, she didn’t want anyone to know we were sisters.”

Mrs. Wyatt.He remembered her now. Tall and willowy with blonde hair. “Do you know who your sister might have gone on a date with the night she was killed?” Sam asked again.

---