Page 44 of Dangerous Secrets
“And that somethingis…?”
He steered to the center of the roadto make room for a bicyclist.“Here’s the deal, you know MarthaWatkins?”
“Yeah, she worked for thesheriff’s department as Neil Grafton’s secretary.I think sheretired after he left.She was in Gran’s book club for severalyears.She lives on Piñon Road.”She glanced out the window as theyturned onto Piñon.“We’re going to her house?”
“I want to talk to her.Ibet she knows a lot about what went on when Grafton wassheriff.”
“Okay.That doesn’texplain why I’m in the truck with you.”
He flashed her a look.“Maybe I likebeing with you.”
“Right.You like beingwith me so much you didn’t call or write for six years.Youcould’ve been married with a couple kids for all Iknew.”
“I’m not married and Idon’t have any kids.And for the record, there’s nobody I’d ratherbe with than you.”
“Jesus, Walker.You can’tsay things like that to me.”
“It’s the truth.I knowyou don’t trust me, but I’m trying to fix that.”And obviously, hehad a long way to go.
He pulled the truck to a stop in frontof a small, single-story bungalow with pots of deep red flowers oneither side of the front door.Resting his hands on the steeringwheel, he turned his head to look at her.“Right now, the issue isMrs.Watkins, another woman who doesn’t trust me.I ended up in aholding cell at the sheriff’s office a few too many times when Iwas a teenager, and she tagged me as a troublemaker.
“Despite her obviouslypoor judgment in that regard, she always struck me as fundamentallyhonest.I spent time at the library over the last week lookingthrough years of past newspapers and noticed Mrs.Watkins didn’tcome out publicly against Grafton, but she also didn’t defend himwhen she had the opportunity.I want to find out what she knows,see if she can shed light on my arrest and conviction, or anythingelse that was going on at the time.I called her yesterdayafternoon and asked if we could talk.She didn’t sound too happyabout the idea, but agreed to see me.”
“Wouldn’t she have beeninterviewed when your case was reopened?”
“Maybe.I still want totalk to her.”
“What’s myrole?”
“I think she’ll feel morecomfortable talking to the reformed troublemaker if you’rethere.”
“I wouldn’t go so far asto say you’re reformed, but okay.But you know you didn’t need allthe secrecy.You could have simply asked me to come.”
“I wasn’t sure you would.”He shrugged.“I don’t want to screw things up with you, but I can’tseem to stop myself.”
“You didn’t screw thingsup, you just made them more complicated than they needed to be.”She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder.“Let’sgo.”
They climbed the steps between thepotted flowers.Ringing the doorbell set off a round of hystericalbarking from what sounded like a pack of yapper dogs.It took a fewminutes before a thin voice came through the doorbell camera.“Yes?”
“Mrs.Watkins, it’s WalkerMcGrath.We spoke yesterday.I’m here with DelaneyBryant.”
“One moment,please.”
The dogs were still raising the alarm.The dead bolt slid over, and when the door opened a fraction, theyapping got louder.He had a one-inch view of a puff of silver hairand hazel-green eyes behind round lenses.“Go around through theside gate to the backyard.I’ll talk with you on my back patio.”The door snapped shut, then opened again.“Latch the gate after youso my girls don’t get loose.”
Doing as directed, they circled thehouse with its neatly trimmed lawn.
“Mrs.Watkins has gorgeousflowers.I love the geraniums.”Laney bent to brush a finger over afuzzy leaf.
Her comment had him noticing theblooms in the beds under the eaves.The same flowers as thosebeside the door, but in more colors.Even an idiot about flowerslike him could see the different shades of purple and pink lookedgood together.
They went through the gate, hesecurely latched it, then followed the stone pavers to a backyardshaded by a grouping of trees he thought were birch.More floweringplants were arranged in pots around the patio.
“Oh, look at thehummingbirds.They’re so pretty.”
Walker looked where she pointed.Therehad to be three or four of the tiny birds darting from bloom tobloom.
The screen door at the back of thehouse opened and a pack of bug-eyed little dogs swarmed out.Whatsounded like a dozen turned out to be only three.They’d stoppedbarking and made a beeline for him and Laney and began sniffingaround their ankles.Mrs.Watkins stepped out carrying a pitcherloaded with ice and what looked like tea, and three stackedglasses.
