Page 79 of A Winter of Discontent for Henry Milch
“It’s reality TV,” I said. “Of course, it’s not fair. It’s meant to be dramatic, not fair. It’s meant to make you mad. Otherwise, no one would watch.”
“I couldn’t get through a whole episode,” Barbara said. “He’s such a blowhard. Men like that are just awful.”
“Someone that successful is entitled to a few rough edges,” my grandmother said.
“Is he that successful?” Bev asked. “I read that he’s a rich kid who got handed all his money. And he really hasn’t done anything but lose it.”
“That’s not what they say on the show,” Nana Cold said. “They wouldn’t hire him to do the show if he weren’t a self-made man.”
I made a mental note that conversations about TV shows could be as challenging as conversations about politics, and segued into Nana Cole’s favorite topic: gossip.
“Tell me what you know about the Campbells.”
“Bunch of drunks, going right back to the start. That’s why they lost everything,” my grandmother said, then added, “Scottish, but you’d think they were Irish the way they drink.”
“Did you hear anything about a lawsuit?”
“Well… she was suing that winery. You know all?—”
“Other lawsuits. Bobbie was suing her son and her cousin because they got her to sign over her share of the property.”
“Really?” Barbara said. “That’s terrible.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Nana Cole said. “Those cousins are tight. They probably ganged up on her.”
“How many are there, exactly?”
“There are Campbells all over the place,” Bev said. “But there are still five on that original property. Bobbie’s boy, Buford, Andy, Harlan and Dill.”
More suspects.
“Buford had a crush on your mother all through school,” Nana Cole said.
“He looks like he’s ten years older than she is.”
“You saw him?”
“Yeah,” I said, not really understanding why that was a big deal. “Twice. I mean, he just opened the door a crack.”
“That’s more than he does for most people.”
“He’s agoraphobic,” Bev explained. “People haven’t seen him in years.”
“How can you be agoraphobic in Masons Bay? No one delivers.” I got a lot of stares. Well, it was a practical question.
“His cousins bring him everything he needs.”
I stood up suddenly. I was only halfway through my sandwich and hadn’t even touched the soup, but I couldn’t help myself. I said, “I need to run an errand. I won’t be long.” And then I left the house as quickly as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I took the Escalade. I had a vague idea of what I was doing and my car, my popsicle blue car, which I adored, would be too noticeable against the snow. Not that black was subtle, but still. I drove to the Campbell complex and parked a few houses down. I could just barely see the main house and the RV.
What was I doing there? Buford. Had he killed Bobbie? Why did I think that? Well, first, he said he saw Melanie drop Bobbie off. That was probably true. He said he heard a couple of gun shots. That was probablynottrue. Bobbie was strangled. So why tell a lie like that? To deflect and distract, which you’d probably do if you were guilty. What else? Bobbie was suing him, so he had a motive. Something he hadn’t mentioned either time I spoke to him. But then, why would he?
Seeing Melanie there was an opportunity. All he had to do was walk thirty feet across his own yard and strangle Bobbie. Could he have overcome his own fears to do that?
His fingerprints. They were inside the RV. Yeah he owned it, but still, he probably wouldn’t go inside. He’d have other people take care of any problems. Which means his fingerprints shouldn’t be in there.
