Page 229 of Things Left Unsaid

“This is getting ridiculous,” Marc Robard bites off at Terry as he holds open the door to the interview room that’s becoming a second home for me. “You have no reason to keep pestering my client. It’s beginning to look like harassment.”

I raise a hand. “Relax, Marc. I’m sure Terry isn’t wasting my time. Again.”

Terry narrows his eyes. “We have reason to believe?—”

“You have no reason, Terry. No logic. No brains. No smarts.” The indictment comes from the doorway where Juliette’s standing, leaning heavily on a cane. Her hair’s scattered and her face is pinched and colorless. “I remembered what happened the day that bitch died.”

“Mrs. McAllister!” Terry chides, but he’s obviously acclimated to her abuse.

“What? You’d better write this down before I toddle off this mortal coil.” She scowls at me. “What are you doing here, boy?”

“Terry wants to interrogate me.”

She harrumphs. “Are you sure you don’t need to go back for basic training, Terry?”

“That’ssergeantto you, Mrs. McAllister.” He’s flustered though. Juliette certainly knows how to rattle him.

“Sergeant, would you stop bothering my grandson-in-law, please? He has my ranch to save and you’re wasting your time anyway. I remembered who killed that stupid woman.”

Terry gapes at me, then at her. “Excuse me?”

“I’m the one with hearing problems,sergeant,” she sneers. “Do you want me to write it myself?”

“You’d best step this way,” he encourages, head whipping around, clearly on the hunt for any underlings who witnessed this humiliating takedown.

“There’s no need to go anywhere,” she declares, settling herself on one of the plastic chairs in the station’s waiting area. She places her cane in front of her and leans her hands on the knob. “Clyde did it.”

“Clyde? Korhonen?”

“Know another Clyde, idiot?”

“Juliette,” I chide, but I have to hide a smile. “Are you sure my father?—”

“Might be old, but my eyes still work.”

“Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?” Terry remarks.

“Because I get confused about my days.”

Something in her expression has me…

I blink.

What was that?

“But I know it was him. Clear as day. He was wearing a hat. A trilby. Probably thought he looked like Frank Sinatra but all I saw was a cheap imitation.” She guffaws. “Old fool. You were friends with him, weren’t you, Terry? In school?

“That’s probably why you didn’t take much notice of a dying woman’s words. Always thought you were useless, but this takes the cake. Why are you pestering my grandson-in-law when his father’s guilty, Terry?”

“Mrs. McAllister, to kill her, Clyde would have to be in town and we don’t have proof?—”

Marc’s brows lift. “A friendship in school is a conflict of interest, sergeant.”

Juliette snaps her fingers. “More than that. Bet he takes bribes.”

“Mrs. McAllister!” Terry protests.

I study him. “If I find out that’s true, Terry, there’ll be hell to pay with your inspector.”

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