Full Dark, No Stars

“If Al Strehlke has a computer,” Tess said, “you can be sure it’s password-protected. And his probably won’t be open for me to poke around in.”

“Then take it and throw it in the goddam river when you go home. Let it sleep with the fishes.”

But there was no computer.

At the door, Tess fed Goober the rest of the hamburger. He would probably puke it al up on the rug, but that wasn’t going to bother Big Driver.

Tom said, “Are you satisfied, Tessa Jean? Are you satisfied you didn’t kil an innocent man?”

She supposed she must be, because suicide no longer seemed like an option. “What about Betsy Neal, Tom? What about her?”

Tom didn’t answer… and once again didn’t need to. Because, after al , he was she.

Wasn’t she?

Tess wasn’t entirely sure about that. And did it matter, as long as she knew what to do next? As for tomorrow, it was another day. Scarlett O’Hara had been right about that much.

What mattered most was that the police had to know about the bodies in the culvert. If only because somewhere there were friends and relatives who were stil wondering. Also because…

“Because the stuffed duck says there might be more.”

That was her own voice.

And that was al right.

- 46 -

At seven-thirty the next morning, after less than three hours of broken, nightmare-haunted sleep, Tess booted up her office computer. But not to write. Writing was the farthest thing from her mind.

Was Betsy Neal single? Tess thought so. She had seen no wedding ring that day in Neal’s office, and while she might have missed that, there had been no family pictures, either. The only picture she

could remember seeing was a framed photo of Barack Obama… and he was already married. So yes—Betsy Neal was probably divorced or single. And probably unlisted. In which case, a computer

search would do her no good at al . Tess supposed she could go to The Stagger Inn and find her there… but she didn’t want to go back to The Stagger. Ever again.

“Why are you buying trouble?” Fritzy said from the windowsil . “At least check the telephone listings for Colewich. And what’s that I smel on you? Is that dog?”

“Yes. That’s Goober.”

“Traitor,” Fritzy said contemptuously.

Her search turned up an even dozen Neals. One was an E Neal. E for Elizabeth? There was one way to find out.

With no hesitation—that would have almost certainly have caused her to lose her courage—Tess punched in the number. She was sweating, and her heart was beating rapidly.

The phone rang once. Twice.

It’s probably not her. It could be an Edith Neal. An Edwina Neal. Even an Elvira Neal.

Three times.

If it is Betsy Neal’s phone, she’s probably not even there. She’s probably on vacation in the Catskills—

Four times.

—or shacked up with one of the Zombie Bakers, how about that? The lead guitarist. They probably sing “Can Your Pussy Do the Dog” together in the shower after they—

The phone was picked up, and Tess recognized the voice in her ear at once.

“Hel o, you’ve reached Betsy, but I can’t come to the phone right now. There’s a beep coming, and you know what to do when you hear it. Have a nice day.”

I had a bad day, thanks, and last night was ever so much w—

The beep came, and Tess heard herself talking before she was even aware she meant to. “Hel o, Ms. Neal, this is Tessa Jean cal ing—the Wil ow Grove Lady? We met at The Stagger Inn. You gave

me back my Tomtom and I signed an autograph for your gran. You saw how marked up I was and I told you some lies. It wasn’t a boyfriend, Ms. Neal.” Tess began to speak faster, afraid that the message

tape would run out before she finished… and she discovered she badly wanted to finish. “I was raped and that was bad, but then I tried to make it right and… I… I have to talk to you about it because—”

There was a click on the line and then Betsy Neal herself was in Tess’s ear. “Start again,” she said, “but go slow. I just woke up and I’m stil half asleep.”

- 47 -

They met for lunch on the Colewich town common. They sat on a bench near the bandstand. Tess didn’t think she was hungry, but Betsy Neal forced a sandwich on her, and Tess found herself eating it

in large bites that made her think of Goober snarfing up Lester Strehlke’s hamburger.

“Start at the beginning,” Betsy said. She was calm, Tess thought—almost preternatural y so. “Start from the beginning and tel me everything.”