The Liar

“Well, I’d guess she came tonight to mess with Shelby’s head. Keep herself right in the front of Shelby’s mind. Once Shelby spotted her, she could go. She came out, got in her car, most likely to drive back to Gatlinburg. Somebody came over to the car, to the driver’s side. I’m leaning toward she recognized whoever it was, and felt easy enough to lower the window instead of driving off or getting her own gun. After she rolled down the window . . .”

Griff mimed putting a gun to his forehead, made a trigger with his thumb.

“That’s my way of thinking, too. If I didn’t know my mama would call you instead of me when the porches need scraping and painting, I’d talk you into joining the sheriff’s department.”

“Not on a bet. I don’t like guns.”

“You’d get over it.” He looked over as a cruiser pulled in. “Shit, should’ve known he’d send Barrow first off. Guy’s affable enough, but slow as a lame turtle. Go on back in, Griff, round up Derrick and fill him in.”

“You want me to fill Derrick in?”

“Save some time. He’s a competent individual himself, and he’s been working the bar most of the night. Could be he saw somebody who didn’t strike him quite right.”

“Whoever did this is long gone.”

“Yeah, for right now, anyway. You’re a lot quicker than Barrow, Griff. ’Course, that doesn’t take much.”

“What we got here, Forrest? Hey, Griff, how’s it going? Sheriff said— Holy shitfire!” Barrow said when he saw the body. “Is she dead?”

“I’d say that’s affirmative, Woody.” Forrest rolled his eyes at Griff.

Griff went inside to find Derrick and fill him in.

14

Shelby sat in the tiny office holding the Coke Tansy had pushed on her with both hands. She didn’t think she could actually swallow.

O. C. Hardigan had been sheriff for as long as she could remember. He’d always scared her a little, but she figured that was the badge more than the man. Not that she’d ever been in any trouble—any real trouble. He’d gone full gray since she’d left the Ridge, so his buzz cut looked like a shorn-off Brillo Pad. His square-jawed face was fleshier than it had been, and he carried a more generous paunch.

He smelled of peppermint over tobacco.

She knew he was being gentle with her, and appreciated it.

He’d said Forrest had given him a full report on her encounter with the victim—he called the woman “the victim”—but had Shelby go through it all again.

“And you’d never seen her, been contacted by her, talked to her before this morning?”

“No, sir.”

“And your . . . The man you knew as Richard Foxworth, he never mentioned anyone named Natalie Sinclair or Madeline Proctor?”

“No, sir, not that I remember.”

“And this private investigator—this Ted Privet. He never said her name to you?”

“No, Sheriff, I’m sure of that.”

“How about this Mickey O’Hara she talked about?”

“I never heard about him before, either. Not until she talked about him.”

“All righty, then. What time was it would you say when you saw her tonight?”

“I think it had to be about ten-thirty. Maybe ten twenty-five. I was more than halfway through the third set, and I started right about ten. She was all the way in the back, the far right corner.” She held her hand up to demonstrate. “My right, that is. I didn’t see her before that, but the light’s dim back there.”

She made herself take a drink. “After I saw her, she got up. Not in a hurry. It was like, all right, now you’ve seen me, now I made my point and I can go. She had a martini glass, but I don’t know who was working that table. It had to be at least fifteen more minutes before I finished the set and could tell Forrest. Might’ve been a few minutes more, but no more than twenty. I had four songs left after the one I was doing when I saw her. And the talk between songs, well, I keep that short. So fifteen minutes, likely no more than seventeen.”

“Did you see anyone follow her out?”

“I didn’t, but I was looking for Forrest once she got up and started out. I wasn’t watching the door.”

“I bet you saw a lot of familiar faces in the crowd tonight.”

“I did. It was so nice to see everyone.” She thought of Arlo. “Mostly.”

“A lot of unfamiliar ones, too.”

“Tansy did a lot of marketing. She had flyers all over. I heard we had a lot of people in tonight who’re staying at the hotel and the lodge and so on, even campers who came in tonight. Something new, you know?”

“Wish I could’ve been here myself. We’re going to make a point of it, the wife and me, next time. Now, did anybody strike you, Shelby? Somebody who just didn’t look right?”

“I didn’t notice. Arlo Kattery was here with the two he always hung around with, but they left at the start of the second set.”

“Arlo’s mostly for Shady’s, or one of the roadhouses.”

“He didn’t do anything but sit, have a few beers, then go on. I’m just thinking of him because he never looked right to me.”

“Never has been.”

“I guess for most of it I was pulling on the familiar faces more, and the couples. A lot of the songs I did tonight, well, they’re romantic, so I played to that. It couldn’t have been anybody from the Ridge, Sheriff. Nobody even knew her.”