More Bitter Than Death: An Emma Fielding Mystery - By Dana Cameron Page 0,87

the night of Garrison’s death. Both of them were seen having words with Garrison, and both of them did not tell the police this.”

“Who?”

“Sue Ayers, for one. I understand that they had another interview with her last night.”

“She’s really in a state,” I said. “I’m getting worried about her.” And she also told me that she hadn’t met Garrison, I thought. Made a point of reminding me that I’d seen her go up to bed, which didn’t really count for anything, but it felt like she was trying to snowball me.

“Yeah, well, I heard her talking with Jay Whitaker in the restaurant last night. She went up and saw Garrison, and they had a row. She didn’t mean to, but somehow she just lost her head, was how she put it.” Laurel’s words were loaded with meaning.

“If she saw him, it doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “No one’s said Garrison was killed.”

Laurel gave me a pitying look. “Right, they haven’t. But there’s been gunplay on two separate occasions and enough crazy shit to keep the cops here on an almost twenty-four-hour basis. What do you think, Em?”

“Okay. Still doesn’t mean she did anything about it. Who was the other person?”

“Duncan Thayer.”

I froze. “I don’t have ties to Duncan.”

Laurel canted her head and glared at me over her glasses. “Maybe you didn’t for a while there, but you sure do now.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“He wants something from you, Emma. That’s clear.”

“He’s going psychotic on me, is clear. First he was trying to be decent, but then he went all paranoid—about what, I don’t know—and now he’s sucking up.”

She tilted her head. “Sounds about right.”

“Laurel, what do you know?”

“I don’t know anything for sure, but I have my suspicions. One thing is strange: Someone’s reviewing some old work of his. Going through the collections, reevaluating his work. That would make anyone edgy, but an egotist like Thayer?” She shook her head.

“Which work?”

“His dissertation work. The stuff out on the western frontier of New York State. The Haslett site, wasn’t it?”

I shrugged. “It’s been a while; if someone’s doing work out there, it would make sense. A lot of sites get reviewed; people come back to the data for all sorts of reasons. It doesn’t need to mean anything.”

“Maybe.” She stood up, shoved her cat glasses back up her nose. “Well, you’re looking less like you’re going to puke all over someone’s new shoes. My work here is done.”

I had a sudden inspiration. “Hey, before you leave?”

“What?”

“Duncan started acting weird when I mentioned Josiah Miller. A nineteenth-century amateur, did some work way out in New York State.”

“I don’t recognize the name. And that’s a little far inland for me.”

Laurel’s work kept her focused on ports and coastal sites. “Oh, I heard it in the farmstead session,” I explained. “The guy who was chairing it, I think, was the presenter.”

“That was Kevin Leary,” she said promptly, and I realized that it was possible that she’d committed the entire program to memory. “He took off right after; had some research to do in Massachusetts while he was out here. I know because I wanted to ask him about a reference and I just barely caught him.”

“Shoot.” Well, I was sorry to have lost that lead, but I began to wonder about whether Leary had been the one reviewing the Haslett site. Maybe he was the link between Duncan and Josiah Miller—that was it! Relief at having solved that puzzle flooded me.

Then I remembered seeing long ago the manuscript Josiah Miller had written on Duncan’s desk. But why should Duncan be so upset now by the mere mention of Miller’s name?

Because Leary had described Miller’s work as “recently discovered”! If that was the case, then why would I have remembered seeing it in Duncan’s possession back before he’d even started his work at the Haslett site? Was that the reason Duncan was so defensive about it now? Holy cow, the implications of all of this were quite…breathtakingly serious.

Laurel seemed unaware that I’d checked out, stunned by my realization. “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “People will start to talk if I’m not helping hold the bar down.” She looked past my shoulder. “Hey, Gutierrez, wait up!”

Laurel vanished as quickly as she had appeared. I did feel better, even though I had a lot to think about in terms of what might be up with Duncan. At the same time, a tiny sliver of my brain was free to wonder just why Laurel had