Page 9 of Every Deadly Suspicion

“What do you make of that?” Terry asked Hanna as they drove back to Dry Oaks. They’d followed up with Smith’s neighbors and found his alibi solid.

“No one else at the airfield mentioned that fight?”

“Not a word.”

“Go back, talk to them again.”

“Will do. You ever heard the nickname Marcus the Muckraker?”

Hanna nodded. “He got that nickname years ago. My mom gave it to him after he published his first book. It died out for a bit but was revived a couple of years ago when Bobby Fairchild overdosed.”

“Right! I remember that. Marshall posted a list of all the burglaries he thought Bobby was responsible for, then declared Dry Oaks safe again because Bobby OD’d.”

“Yeah. Marcus can be a jerk.”

“How about a murderer?” Terry asked.

“Marcus has always struck me as a talker not a doer, though. A keyboard warrior I’d call him now. We still need to find out about the argument and check the camera footage again. Make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

Terry nodded. “I’d also like to talk to Chase. Do you know if the brothers were close?”

“I think they were.” Hanna considered the question. Scott’s younger brother had been seriously injured thirty-five years ago in an incident that had changed Dry Oaks forever. It had changed Hanna’s life as well.

Her father murdered two people and maimed Chase for life. Time had not numbed her to that reality. The knowledge about what Joe Keyes had done still made her sick to her stomach.

“I’ve always heard that when Chase was injured, Scott became his caretaker. The first time I saw Chase I think I was fifteen years old,” she told Terry. “I hiked up to the murder scene with a friend.”

“Beecher’s Mine cabin?”

“Yeah. It was kind of a thing kids did back then. There was nothing to see there. What didn’t burn down the night of the murders had been bulldozed by the Buckleys.”

“Still, it was a draw?”

“Yeah. While I was there, Chase came roaring up on an ATV. My friend and I hid from him, then watched. He didn’t have a prosthetic leg back then. He was on crutches, drunk, and yelling something I couldn’t understand. Scott came and got him. I didn’t see anger between the brothers; I saw the older taking care of the younger.”

“Seems as if he’ll want to talk to us then, find out who killed his brother.”

“It’s odd that he hasn’t made himself available.” Hanna considered Chase and all that she knew about him. Was it possible he had poisoned his own brother? She hoped not, for Everett’s sake.

When Hanna and Terry arrived at the station, Marcus was there, obviously filming something for his blog. Hanna had to suppress the smile that threatened when the name Marcus the Muckraker came to mind. He’d hated it, and it brought her mother no small joy to have been the one who hung it on him.

He pointed his camera at her as she and Terry walked toward the station. “Chief, can we have a statement on the deadly plane crash of Scott Buckley?”

“Sure, after we get a statement from you.”

“From me? About what?”

“We have witnesses who saw you and Scott arguing. Do you want to be interviewed on your podcast?”

Marcus lowered the camera and sputtered, “W-w-what are you talking about?”

She pointed to the station. “We can talk in there.”

Marcus glanced from her to Terry. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. You were seen arguing with Scott, rather heatedly, a couple of weeks ago. What was the fight about?”

His face reddened. “Who’s your witness?”

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