Bingo. Mark Beck lived up the hill.
“Let’s go visit his house.” They didn’t have a warrant, but he intended to go inside regardless.
They hurried back to the jeep and drove up the hill to a small white-clapboard mid-century-style home. A black lab lay on the porch, getting to his feet as they stopped, then padded toward them.
Liam rolled down the window. “You friendly, boy?”
The dog sat, thumping its tail.
Willing to catch it, Liam slowly opened his door.
“Brutus.” A woman stepped onto the porch and called the dog who obediently went to her side. She glanced up them. “You lost?”
“No ma’am. Is this the Beck household.” Liam smiled and moved slowly toward the house.
“It is. I’m Mrs. Beck.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “You cops?”
Liam introduced them. How could he tell this woman her husband shot and killed someone, then died on the train tracks? He chose to leave out the murder part. “May we step inside, ma’am?”
Worry creased her face. “This about Mark?” She hitched her chin. “I reckon it is. Come on in.”
He shot Harper a look. The woman seemed resigned to whatever they were there to tell her.
“Is my husband in jail?” She motioned for them to have a seat on a striped sofa.
“Is he usually?” Harper asked.
“If he spends enough time at the bar.” She folded her hands in her lap. “They don’t ever convict him, just let him sleep it off.”
“I don’t recall ever seeing your husband, ma’am.” Harper frowned.
“That’s because he keeps his shenanigans out of Oakdale where folks know him. What was it this time? A fight? Car hit a tree?”
Liam cleared his throat. “I’m afraid your husband is dead, ma’am. On the tracks.”
She blinked a few times, glancing from him to Harper and back to him. “Hit by a train?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“He always did take that crossing too fast.” She wiped her sleeve across her eyes.
“He was on foot, just down the hill.”
“On foot?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. My husband isn’t one to walk anywhere.”
“Has he been acting strange in any way lately?” Liam leaned forward. “Talking about sin or being enlightened?”
“Is this about the serial killer I hear about on the news? Was my Mark pushed?”
“We don’t know exactly what happened, ma’am. We’re hoping you could clear some things up for us.”
She folded and unfolded her hands over and over, wrinkling the dress she wore. “He did say he was thinking about a new church for us to go to. He’s gone himself a time or two, wanting to make sure it was for us before taking me.”
“Did he tell you which church?” At least they had a mostly confirmed idea that her husband had been one of Thompson’s followers. “An address?”
“No.” She shook her head. “And I didn’t ask. I like the Freewill Baptist in town and didn’t want to switch. We fought about it a time or two.” She sniffed. “Guess there’ll be no arguments now.”
“Again, I’m very sorry.” Liam got to his feet and handed her a business card. “Please give us a call if you think of anything.”