Page 90 of The Night the Lights Went Out
“Or...?” Sugar prompted.
“Or somebody knew about her first marriage, and about the drownings, and was just waiting for the right time to talk about it.”
“Like a convenient drowning?” Sugar’s eyes widened.
“Something like that.” He stood. “What’s Merilee’s friend’s name—the one who told her about the rumors at the funeral?”
Sugar blinked several times. “Do I know the answer to that? If I do, I’m afraid I don’t remember.”
“It’s Lindi Matthews. Her daughter is my friend Jenna,” Lily called from the next room. “I can get her phone number if you want.”
“That would be great—thank you,” Wade called out. He shook his head. “So much for protecting the children from all of this.”
They heard Lily’s feet thundering down the back hall before she appeared with a school directory. “Here. It has Mrs. Matthews’s work number and cell number, too.” Lily looked up, her expression one of such worry and agony, Sugar was afraid she’d look like one of those wrinkly dogs when she was older. “Why are you calling Mrs. Matthews? Does Mom need a lawyer?”
Wade squatted down and smiled at the little girl. “Actually, I wasn’t even aware that Mrs. Matthews was a lawyer. I want to call her because I think your mom needs a friend right now.”
Sugar pressed her lips together and gave Wade her serious look. Standing, she took Lily by her shoulders. “What do you say we have pizza delivered for lunch? You talk with your brother and decide what you want, and then Mr. Kimball will order it and pay for it, too. All right?”
Lily looked slightly less upset as she returned to the front room to talk with Colin.
Turning to Wade, Sugar said, “Why do you want to talk with Lindi?”
“Because I want to find out who started the rumors. I’m sure someone told the police, which is why they have more questions for Merilee.” He sat and began drumming his fingers against the table. “There’s something not right about any of this. Not right at all.”
While Wade took his cell phone from his pocket and began dialing, Sugar removed her glasses to clean them, wondering how they always managed to get so dirty when she was doing absolutely nothing. After resettling them on her nose, she turned her head to look out of the window at the woods, testing her vision, wondering if the blurriness was because of the distance or a spot she’d missed on the lens.
She recalled a few words of wisdom her father had told her long ago, something she was sure she’d repeated to Wade. Something about digging where you’re not wanted. Because most people have secrets. And most of them should be allowed to stay hidden. No good had ever come from poking a stick down a hole. Because sometimes you got a garter snake, but sometimes you got a rattler.
She thought she could see Dixie hovering at the edge of the woods, facing the house. Sugar blinked twice and the dog was gone. She turned around and placed her hand on Wade’s arm as he held the phone, speaking to another person on the other end.
“Let it go,” she said, her voice quiet. “Let it go,” she said again, thinking about another time, another death.
He took her hand as if she hadn’t said anything at all, and continued to talk into the phone.
• • •
MERILEE
Merilee took the cup of coffee from the detective and sipped it without blowing on it, unaware that she was burning her tongue until she’d swallowed.
“Careful—it’s hot,” Detective Kobylt said. She’d been escorted to the interview room and introduced to Detective Scott Harrell of the Sweet Apple Police Department, who would be assisting with the investigation. They’d explained that the two detectives would be working the case together, since Lake Lanier was in a different jurisdiction from Sweet Apple, where everybody involved lived. And where the Blackfords knew everyone, including the chief of police and the mayor, according to Sugar.
Detective Harrell sat casually on the table behind where they’d placed Merilee, the other detective leaning against the wall. She was the only one drinking coffee, and she wondered if that was supposed to mean anything.
“Thanks for coming in, Ms. Dunlap.”
She smiled at the detective, trying to move her frozen cheeks before they cracked. “You’re welcome. Although I’m not quite sure why I’m here. I already told the police everything I know about... that night. I’ve thought about it and thought about it and I haven’t come up with anything new that I could add. If I had I would have called.”
The two detectives exchanged a look, and then Detective Harrell spoke, his voice kind and his Georgia accent oddly reassuring. Like she was among friends. And she couldn’t help but wonder if this was intentional. “Ms. Dunlap—can you think of any reason why someone might want to harm Dr. Blackford?”
“Harm him? No. He was the nicest man. Everybody liked him, as far as I knew. I never heard a bad word said about him.”
“So you’d never heard anybody threaten him or argue with him?”
“Never. Like I said, he was very well liked. A big contributor to the community and to the school. I considered him my friend.”
The detective clasped his hands over his knee, which was bent over the edge of the desk in a studiously casual pose. “Ms. Dunlap, have you ever been arrested?”
