Page 56 of Every Deadly Suspicion

Her officers exchanged glances.

“He was drunk and bad-mouthing the department. Just being obnoxious as usual. The crowd got riled, somebody threw beer on somebody, and things escalated,” Jenna explained. “It’s so hot and dry today, everyone is on edge, even cranky. Tempers are as volatile as the dry grass. Carver was just the match.”

“Wait in my car. I’ll go talk to Jock and then take you to urgent care.”

Jenna nodded and opened the passenger door.

Hanna felt uneasy suddenly, creeped out. She got the distinct impression someone was watching her. Jerking around, she saw him.

Chase Buckley. He was in the doorway of the tavern.

What surprised Hanna was that he was standing; there were nocrutches. He leaned on a cane, and he had a prosthetic leg. How long had he had that?

He didn’t look happy, but then the few times she’d seen him, Chase never looked happy. The scarring on the right side of his face made certain he’d never smile. And he looked old. Chase was probably in his sixties. Maybe even the same age as Joe Keyes.

Had Everett told Chase about Joe? Probably. Forgetting Jock, she headed Chase’s way. “Hello, Chase.”

He nodded, dropped his cigarette on the ground, and crushed it with the end of his cane.

“I hear your daddy’s getting sprung,” he said, his raspy voice difficult to hear.

“Yes. He’ll be on hospice.”

He cursed. “A lot of people aren’t happy that he’s getting out.”

“People like you?” Hanna kept her voice level.

“He should have gotten the chair.”

“Well, he’s got a death sentence now, one there is no parole from.” Thinking of her mother’s sad life, she added, “Will you hang on to your anger for the rest of your life, Chase?”

“Hmph.” He straightened. “I know the guy better than you do. He crossed me more than once. Don’t trust your daddy. That would be a mistake.”

“We still need to sit down and talk about Scott, the morning he died.”

He didn’t meet her gaze. “I didn’t kill my brother. I wouldn’t mess with poison.”

“Did you see or hear anything that morning?”

A jerk of his head she took for a no.

“Did anyone have a beef with Scott?”

Another jerk.

“I heard that Scott planned to take Braden to Corte Madera. Was that fine with you?”

Chase hiked a shoulder. “Planning and doing are two different things.”

“You didn’t like the idea?”

“He’s my grandson. He’ll stay with me.” Chase’s tone was flat, devoid of emotion. Not what she’d expect if he was passionate enough to fight for his son.

“How about Marcus Marshall? Did Scott have a bone to pick with him?”

That got a different reaction, as if Hanna hit a nerve. Chase glared at her. “Marcus?”

“I heard that he had a fight with Scott. Is Marcus writing a book about your family?”

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