“Technically speaking, we don’t have a client so we can’t play it at all,” I said.
“But we’re still going to, right?” Gertie asked.
“Of course,” I said. “It’s a headless dead man riding a horse. I can’t just let that one slip away into the sunset like a news story on the biggest bass caught or something.”
Ida Belle grinned. “That curiosity level of yours must have caused you problems with the CIA.”
I thought about that for a moment. “You know, it probably did, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it is here.”
“It’s because the people are no longer strangers,” Gertie said. “I mean, you don’t know everyone that we’ve investigated, but it’s your community now. That gives you a vested interest.”
“Unfortunately, it still doesn’t give me a legal one,” I said. “So can I assume we’ll be doing a food run to the child bride?”
Gertie nodded. “That’s what I figured. I pulled out a chicken casserole last night to let it thaw. All she’ll have to do is pop it in the oven and she’ll have meals for days.”
“Great,” I said. “Then we should probably do that as soon as is proper so that she’s not exhausted by the thrill seekers before we get there. What about the son? Is he still local?”
“Local-ish,” Ida Belle said. “He works up the highway near the motels and that strip mall. I think he lives nearby. We never see him in town, though. Not since his dad and Tiffany got together.”
“What does he do?” I asked.
Gertie smiled. “He’s a butcher.”
I stared. “Well, isn’t that interesting. Would he think it odd if you paid him a visit?”
Gertie shook her head. “I taught and tutored him. He knows me well. And I took out two casseroles this morning, anticipating the need.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Best I know, he’s a single guy, so he’s not likely to turn down free food, even if he’s not exactly overwhelmed with his father’s death.”
“Awesome,” I said. “So we have a plan. After breakfast, we head to see the widow, then up the highway to see Liam.”
“There’s one other person we might want to talk to,” Gertie said.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Judith Trahan,” Gertie said.
“Oh!” Ida Belle said. “I hadn’t even thought about Judith.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
“She was Gil’s best friend since they were in grade school,” Ida Belle said. “Probably the only one who could tolerate him enough years to remain friends. He was a bit much for most people, especially as a kid.”
“Friends.” Gertie rolled her eyes. “Judith’s been in love with Gil since he stepped into the elementary school.”
“You think?” Ida Belle asked. “Hmmm. I guess I never paid attention.”
“It’s not like you saw them together in school like I did,” Gertie said. “And Judith didn’t and still doesn’t spend much time in town, so not much opportunity to observe her in adulthood.”
“Why doesn’t she come to town?” I asked.
“She’s a farm girl,” Gertie said. “Crops, free-range chickens, and dairy cattle. She was an only child and had to work it from a young age, so she wasn’t out much. She inherited the farm when her parents died and kept it running herself with a little help from a local or two.”
“She’s also a huge introvert,” Ida Belle said.
“Do you think she’ll talk to us?” I asked.
“I think so,” Gertie said. “She always seems happy to see us, the few times a year we happen to run into her.”
Ida Belle nodded. “We shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Okay, then, that’s three interviews today,” I said. “Sounds like a good start to me. Hey, here’s a question—do either of you know who the horse belonged to?”
They both shook their heads.
“He was a nice-looking steed, though,” Ida Belle said. “There’s a couple people nearby who breed horses. But anyone could pull up with a trailer and make off with a horse if they planned it right.”
I nodded. “But it’s beyond just access. That horse stood still while someone strapped a body onto it, then was guided to the park and sent into the fray. And why did he stop all of a sudden? It’s almost as if he was trained to do so.”
“Maybe it’s just coincidence,” Gertie said. “I know, I know, you don’t believe in that. But look what happened right after you arrived in Sinful—your inherited dog dug up a bone in your backyard. That wasn’t staged.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” I said. “And maybe