Buried in Secrets (Carly Moore #4) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,75
pulled his hand away. “Save your sympathy for someone who needs it. I should have told you, but like I said, I don’t know much and I didn’t want to dredge up old memories.”
Was he telling the truth? I hated that I was questioning him, but the doubt wasn’t so easily dismissed.
“Do you know much about the goings-on in Ewing?”
He shook his head. “Mary had some friends in Ewing, but I’ve lost track.”
“Do you know anything about an insurance agent named Jim Palmer?”
His brow rose. “The man who was killed?”
“His father.”
He got a pensive look, and he was quiet for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he said, “I remember hearing something, but its only coming in bits and pieces. Something to do with his wife.”
“You mean Jim, Jr.’s wife, Melinda?”
“No, his daddy’s wife. Naomi.”
“You don’t remember anything else?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No. But I remember Mary yappin’ on…something to do with church, I think.”
Well, crap. If it was flat-out gossip, I wouldn’t find it in a paper or a police report. But Thelma might know something.
“That’s good,” I said. “It’s something.”
“But not very helpful.” He looked frustrated.
“Hey,” I said with a smile. “It’s more than I had before, and I know someone who might know more details now that you’ve pointed me in a direction.”
“You think Naomi’s squabble at church had something to do with Bart?” He shook his head. “You’re chasin’ your tail on that one.”
I’d chase anything at this point.
Chapter Twenty
I had time to fold a load of towels that had been in the dryer for two days as well as sweep and mop the living room and kitchen before I portioned out the food I’d cooked into containers for several days’ worth of meals. Even with the chores, I still pulled into a space in front of the library a few minutes before ten.
I sat in my car, looking through my notes to help prepare for my research. While I planned to do a search for Naomi Palmer, I intended to focus most of my attention on the Crimshaws, then the arresting officers for the cases I’d collected in the notebook. Good thing I’d started writing down the cases’ web addresses in case I needed to go back later.
Carnita was walking down the sidewalk toward the library, so I closed my notebook, grabbed my purse, and got out of my car, meeting her at the front door.
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “You’re early today.”
“I’m pretty sure I reserved a computer last week. Ten to one.”
She beamed. “Well, let’s get you started.” She unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “Go ahead and boot up a computer. Your pick.”
I took the one at the end—fewer prying eyes, although I found most people who used the computers were more interested in their social media accounts than my research. After I turned it on, Carnita signed in, and I got started before the other two people who had reserved spots showed up.
As I’d expected, my search for Naomi Palmer didn’t turn up much, but I did find an obituary that dated ten years back. The family had asked for donations to the American Heart Association in lieu of flowers, so I wrote down that she’d probably died of a heart condition. But it was an article in the Ewing paper that got me excited—a mention of her name at a coat drive run by the First Baptist Church of Ewing.
I told myself not to get too worked up. Sure, Jim, Jr.’s mother attended the same church as the Crimshaws, but that didn’t mean the younger Palmers still did. They might not attend church at all, but given the fact they were fine, upstanding citizens, I suspected they did.
Leaning toward Carnita’s desk, I asked, “Hey, Carnita. Do you happen to carry church directories?”
She made a face. “That’s a new request. No, but it’s probably a good idea for the people who are interested in genealogy. You’d be surprised how many there are these days.” She cocked her head. “You trying to figure out a family tree?”
I couldn’t confess what I was really up to. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Which family? I might be able to help.”
Crap. Who could I name without giving myself away? “The Binghams.”
She chuckled. “Believe it or not, Todd and Lula have been doin’ their own research into his family tree. Well, both of their families now.” She lowered her voice. “Lula’s mother’s gettin’ out of prison next month,