“Yeah,” Quinlan said.
“What are you doing with Sally Brandon?”
“I just sort of hooked up with her the first day I was here. I like her. She doesn’t deserve all this misery.”
“More than misery. Seeing that poor woman’s body banging up against the rocks at the base of those cliffs was enough to give a person nightmares for the rest of her life. But finding Doc Spiver with half his head blown off was even worse.”
David took another drink of his tea. “I sure won’t forget this remedy. You think that by any wild chance these two deaths are related in any way to the FBI missing persons files, to this Harve and Marge Jensen and all the others?”
“That’s far-fetched for even my devious brain, but it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
He was doing it to him again, David thought, without rancor. He was smooth, he was polite, he wasn’t about to spill anything he didn’t want to spill. It would be impossible to rattle him. He wondered why the devil he was really here. Well, Quinlan would tell him when he was good and ready.
David said slowly, “I know you won’t tell me why you’re really here, but I’ve got enough on my plate right now, so I don’t plan to stew about it. You keep doing what you’re doing, and if you can help me at all, or I can help you, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, David. I appreciate it. The Cove is an inter-esting little town, don’t you think?”
“It is now. You should have seen it three or four years ago. It was as ramshackle as you could imagine, everything run-down, only old folks here. All the young ones hightailed it out of town as soon as they could get. Then prosperity. Whatever they did, they did it well and with admirable planning.
“Maybe some relative of one of them died and left a • pile of money, and that person gave it to the town. Whatever, the place is a treat now. Yep, it shows that folk can pull themselves out of a ditch if they put their minds to it. You’ve got to respect them.”
David set his empty cup in the sink. “Well, I’m back to Doc Spiver’s house. I’ve got exactly nothing, Quinlan.”
“If I uncover something, I’ll call.”
“I won’t hold the lines open. I just realized that these two deaths have got to be real hard on the townsfolk. Here I am, just about accusing one of them of holding the woman prisoner before killing her. Hey, I was even thinking those four old men already knew that Doc Spiver was dead when you volunteered to go fetch him for Hunker Dawson, that maybe they’d had something to do with it. That’s just crazy. They’re good people. 1 want to get this cleared up as soon as possible.”
“As I said, I’ll tell you if I find something.”
David didn’t know if that was the truth, but Quinlan sounded sincere enough. Well, he should. He’d been trained by the best of the best. David had a cousin, Tom Neibber, who had washed out of Quantico back in the early eighties, only gotten through the fourth week out of sixteen. He’d thought his cousin had what it took, but he hadn’t made it.
David turned in the kitchen doorway. “It’s funny, but inescapable. Sally wasn’t expected here. Whoever killed Laura Strather was already holding her prisoner. If Sally hadn’t heard the woman scream that first night she was here, you can bet no one else would have-but that’s exactly what happened. If you and Sally hadn’t been out there on the cliffs, that woman’s body would never have been found. There would never have been a crime. Nothing, just another missing persons report put out by the husband.
“Now, Doc Spiver, that’s different. The killer didn’t care if Doc was found, just didn’t care.”
“Don’t forget, it could be suicide.”
“I know, but it doesn’t smell right, you know?”
“No, I don’t know, but you keep smelling, David. I do wonder that nobody heard a blessed thing. Hardly seems possible, does it? People are just too contrary to all agree with each other. Now, that must smell big time to you.”