Page 104 of For the Birds

He laughed. “Okay. Further down it says that Mrs. Pam Beagle and Mrs. Priscilla Landry are the daughters of Seymour and Mary Ellen Constant, the happy couple who didn’t kill each other after livin’ together for fifty years. Priscilla’s son Mike was in attendance. Pam had two sons, but only her son Paul was there. Merlin was in the statepen.”

That caught my attention. “The state penitentiary? We should look into that. Let me see the photo.” I leaned over Witt’s shoulder and studied the grainy photos—there were several. One of the happy couple. One large group photo, and one with the couple, their two daughters and sons-in-law, and their grandsons—two young men in their twenties by the look of them. And although the photo was fifteen years old, I had no trouble recognizing Elijah Landry. “That’shim.”

We were all silent for a moment.

“So Elijah had family here. Does it give their address?” I asked.

“No,” Neely Kate said, “but I’ll call my friend in the property tax department, see if she can find out where they lived.”

I nodded. “Good idea. Witt, print off that photo so we can show it around.”

“Onit.”

“You used to go to Henryetta Baptist Church, Rose,” Neely Kate said. “Do you remember Seymour and Mary Ellen Constant?”

“No, but I know someone who will.” I gave her a look. “Miss Mildred.”

“We have to go back there anyway,” Neely Kate said with a slight shrug. “We can ask herthen.”

“Yippee,” I said sarcastically.

Neely Kate’s phone buzzed and she answered, saying, “Sparkle Investigations.”

There it was again. “NeelyKate.”

She ignored me. “Do you want to come by our office?” she asked. After a pause, she said, “Sure, we can do lunch. How about Merilee’s on the square? In about fifteen minutes? . . . Okay. See you then.” She hung up and swiveled her office chair to face us. “That was Jeanne. She just got off and wants us to feed her lunch.”

“We just had breakfast about an hour ago,” Isaid.

“I could eat,” Wittsaid.

“I guess that’s a small price to pay for answers. But once again, we need to talk about the name of our nonexistent company.”

Neely Kate twisted her mouth to the side. “It’s not set in stone.”

“That’s good because you’d be chiselin’ itout.”

Witt looked like he was choking back laughter as he handed me the printed photo. It had been zoomed out to fill the page and was kind of grainy, but it was clear enough to show around.

Neely Kate frowned. “Y’all may have hit pay dirt with Elijah Landry, but the only thing I found out about Sandusky Enterprises is that they were incorporated a year ago and bought Maynard’s junkyard back in March.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, folding the photo over once and stuffing it into my backpack. “In the meantime, why don’t we head over to Merilee’s and make sure we get a table? You know they can get pretty crowded aroundnoon.”

Witt shot out of his chair. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

As we walked across the square—Witt already nearly to the restaurant—Neely Kate called her friend in the records department and asked for her help. When she hung up, she said, “June’s really busy, but she says she hopes to get something to us later this afternoon.”

“Why don’t we try Mr. Whipple one moretime?”

She nodded. “Good idea.” But once again the phone rang and there was no answer. I was starting to get worried. “Maybe we should go over and check on him after lunch.”

Neely Kate looked worriedtoo.

It was a good thing we got there early because the place was already packed. We’d just been seated at a table when Jeanne showed up, still wearing her Walmart vest. She took one look at Witt and took a step backward. “What’s he doin’ here?”

“This is Neely Kate’s cousin, Witt, and he’s helpin’ us look for Scooter,” I said. “Have a seat. You must be starving after workin’ all morning.”

“Well . . .” She glanced at Witt again.

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