Father Knows Death Part 22

"I a.s.sure you I am not looking, Susan," I said. "I haven't looked at anyone but Julianne since the day I laid eyes on her. But I don't think it's too much to ask you to walk and talk at the same time. Is it?"

She didn't answer.

The entire parade line was still crawling. I knew it would take awhile for us to get moving at a true walking speed. I glanced over the float. Julianne was walking with Carly, holding her hand, but she had a weird expression on her face. Almost a grimace. I really wished she wouldn't push herself just to make a point to everyone else in the world.

"About six months," Susan said. "We dated for about six months."

"Was it serious?"

"Why are you being so nosy?"

"Because it's sort of my job," I replied. "I'm trying to find out what happened to him, so I need to find out more about him. Who his friends were. What was going on in his life. I didn't realize you had a relations.h.i.+p with him or I would've asked you about him sooner."

She nodded, accepting that that made sense. "I guess it was serious. I mean, we weren't going to get married or anything, but we were . . . together."

"How'd you meet?"

"Actually, here at the fairgrounds," she said, still refusing to make eye contact with me. "I don't remember exactly how, but I think I was here for a 4-H activity and he was here because he was always here. I probably needed something fixed in the food stand."

The pace of the parade started to increase just a bit and we were actually walking at nearly a full, comfortable stride now.

"He asked me out," she said, glancing at me. "He was very flattering. I couldn't say no."

"And you said yes? Right away?"

"Yes. I did. I thought he was nice. Somewhat handsome. I wasn't involved with anyone. And he had a good sense of humor. I like that in a man."

"So why'd you break up?"

Her face bunched up. "I'm not sure how that's any of your business, Deuce. I'm really not."

"Just trying to get a clearer picture of what went on in George's life."

She frowned, irritated or angry or something. "But it was ages ago."

"Well, not really." I paused. "And I saw the look you gave Matilda last night, so it seems . . ."

"You can just leave that heifer out of this," she said sharply. "I have nothing to say about that cow."

"Not a friend?"

She looked like she wanted to vomit. "Hardly."

"How come?"

Her eyes narrowed to tiny, angry slits. "Because she took George from me."

43.

We were walking at an easy pace and I asked, "She took him from you?"

She nodded curtly. "d.a.m.n right she did."

"How?"

"Oh, you'd have to ask her," she said. "I'm not sure exactly what she offered him, but it had to be something."

"Why did it have to be something?"

She looked at me like I was crazy. "Look at me and look at her. Please."

Right then, I wasn't seeing anything that was attractive about Susan. The looks that had taken place between the two women the previous evening, however, now made perfect sense.

"So he broke up with you?" I said.

"Well, I don't know that I'd say that," she said quickly. "It ended up being mutual. I knew he was no longer interested in our relations.h.i.+p. Honestly, I was getting tired of him, too. I realized he was a bit too simple for me."

She wasn't making sense. She was contradicting herself. Not something that was working in her favor.

"So what happened when you broke up?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Was it friendly? Ugly? How did it happen?" She took a moment to look around and survey her troops. "I really don't see how any of this is helpful and I really don't appreciate you being so intrusive."

I nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. You're right. None of my business. You won't mind if I go ahead and let the police know that I've talked to you, though, right?"

She flinched and her entire facade crumbled for a moment. Her pace slowed and she went from looking like someone who was supervising a parade to someone who was about to panic. She was not a good poker player.

"Well, I don't see why you'd need to do that," she said.

"Just to share information," I said. "Be cooperative with them. Maybe they won't even be interested. I don't know. But I do have a question for you."

She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me.

"I saw you the morning he was found. You were there," I said.

She nodded slowly.

"You weren't upset," I said.

"I was, too," she said, lifting her chin.

"Yeah, about the effect on the food stand," I said. "How 4-H would take a hit financially. Not about George. And I find that very odd, considering that you had been in a six-month relations.h.i.+p with him."

"Oh, I don't think that's accurate," she said. "I don't think you know me well enough to know how I react when I'm upset about something."

"Well, Matilda was there and, even though I didn't know they were a couple, she was upset. I could tell that, then, about her."

"Maybe she'd just stepped on a scale," Susan said, frowning. "Or forgotten her lunch."

I didn't think that Susan's bitterness was solely because she was a nasty person. That certainly played into it, but I thought there was more behind her snarky comments.

"But I was upset," Susan said. "I had to keep my cool, though. For 4-H."

"Right," I said. "So why'd you tell me about George and Matilda then?"

Her face colored and she dropped her sungla.s.ses from the top of her head to her eyes. "I thought that might be valuable information for you. Like you said. You need a clear picture."

"Or did you want me to think she had something to do with his death?" I asked.

Her mouth twisted like a pretzel. "Maybe she did."

"She didn't."

Susan turned and walked backward for a moment, keeping her eyes on the 4-H marchers behind us. "You know that for sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"She have some sort of alibi or something?"

"Or something." Technically, Matilda didn't have an alibi. But she'd convinced me that she wasn't capable of killing the man she loved. And I didn't think that was any of Susan's business.

"Do you?" I asked.

"Do I what?"

"Have an alibi?"

She turned around so she was walking forward again. "Of course."

"Okay. What were you doing?"

We continued walking, but she didn't say anything.

"Susan."

She looked at me. "What?"

"Your alibi. What is it?"

She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down. "We're getting close to the judges' stand. I need to make sure we're ready. We do not want to blow this opportunity in front of the judges. We have an excellent chance to win the float compet.i.tion this year, I think."

"We've got a few minutes," I said.

She stopped abruptly and jammed her hands on her hips. "Deuce Winters, I am trying to coordinate this event and I don't appreciate getting the third degree from you right now. I'll be happy to talk to you at the end of the parade. But right now I have a group to organize so we don't look like fools in front of the judges."

She stomped off to the front of our float.

44.

Main Street was lined with people and lawn chairs and pets and signs. The denizens of Rose Petal lived for the fair parade and despite the unG.o.dly heat, they had turned out in full force to line the route, cheer for the floats, and collect candy.

I was struck for a moment that all of this was going to change. The parade would be elsewhere next year. And the year after that. Would it ever come back? Maybe. But for the next couple of years, the parade would be different and the people lining the streets would be different. The folks who lived in the tiny houses on Main Street and set their lawn chairs at the curb wouldn't be able to do so anymore. Would they travel to the new site and find spots on the new parade route? Or would they just let it go, disappointed that the tradition was gone? It made me sad for them and for the town.

I'd let Susan go and had moved over to the other side of the float with Julianne and Carly. Carly was busy tossing candy and Julianne was busy trying not to get sick.

"What were you talking to Susan about?" she asked with a grimace.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "But I think we need to get you home."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You look like you're about to throw up."

Her face was flushed and sweat was pouring down her cheeks. Her walking was labored and I could tell that the heat had swelled her ankles to twice their size. She was breathing hard and every few steps she'd cringe.

"Well, if I do, just step out of the way and keep walking," she said, forcing a smile.

"It's too hot out here for you. Come on. This is ridiculous."

"Deuce, I'm not leaving," she said, glaring at me. "I refuse to play the delicate pregnant woman here."

"No one thinks you are."

"Exactly. All the more reason for me not to play it."

Her stubbornness could be incredible at times. "If you pa.s.s out, should I just put you on the float?"

"I'm not going to pa.s.s out."

"I just want to be prepared. If you won't go home, I feel like I need to be prepared for any possible scenario."

We turned a corner and the judges' tower near the fire station was in view. The cheers were getting louder as each float pa.s.sed by and did its best to impress Mama and her gang on the tower. Everyone liked to play down the importance of the parade, but there was no mistaking it. Winning the parade was the crowning achievement of fair week, and allowed the winners to brag for a year. It mattered.

"Yes, just put me on the float," Julianne said, then winced. "But not near the p.e.n.i.ses."