Murder in the Smokies - By Paula Graves Page 0,48

tired, Sutton thought. She wasn’t wearing any makeup that might hide the purple shadows under her reddened eyes. Her connection to all four of the murder victims had to have taken a toll on her emotions.

“We brought food.” He pulled one of the teas from the carrier. “Hope you like sweet tea.”

She looked at the cup of tea. “Thank you. I forgot to eat lunch, and here I was about to skip dinner, as well.”

“That’s not good for you. I know you’ve had a lot to handle, between losing your friends and your father’s illness, but you have to make time to take care of yourself,” Ivy said, her voice tinted by real concern. “Barbecue and chips aren’t the most nutritional things we could have given you, but at least it’s fuel, right?”

“Thank you.” Rachel managed a faint smile as she took the cup from Sutton. “I hate to be antisocial, but if I’m going to finish working out the list for you tonight, I need to be without distractions, so...”

“So be quiet and don’t bother you?” Ivy finished with a laugh.

Rachel made a regretful face. “Well, I wouldn’t have said it that way, but...”

Sutton handed her a wrapped barbecue sandwich and a bag of potato chips. “How quiet should we be?”

“You don’t have to be quiet.” Rachel managed a real smile. “I’ll be playing music—it helps me concentrate. So don’t feel as if you need to whisper.”

“Are there that many rented trucks that qualify for your list?” Ivy asked, her brow furrowed. She was probably thinking about how much legwork she and Antoine would have to do to mark all the names off that list, Sutton thought. He didn’t envy her the grunt work, but he sure would like to get his hands on that list.

He wouldn’t, unfortunately. Ivy had been clear with him about that point on the drive to Maryville. “She’s allowing this without a warrant because she trusts me to be discreet. I’m not going to ask her to include you in that mix. You’re just going to have to trust that I’ll do my job.”

He did trust her, he realized, despite having seen her in action such a short time. She was smart, she was driven and she was stubborn, all good qualities in a detective. She wanted the case solved, with far less financial incentive than Sutton himself had to close the case.

“More than I realized,” Rachel answered Ivy’s question. “I’m having to include some trucks that are on a long-term rental contract, since you’re looking for all Davenport trucks that could be on the road during the time period, right? Not just trucks rented during that period.”

“Right,” Ivy agreed quickly. “We’ll stay out here and let you work.”

“You can use the conference room table to eat—first door on the right.”

As Rachel went into the back office and closed the door behind her, Sutton nodded toward the door Rachel had indicated. “Shall we?”

They settled at one end of a long, well-polished oak table in an otherwise spare, utilitarian conference room, Ivy at the head of the table and Sutton taking the chair at her right. Ivy slanted a look at him. “You must be wondering why I called this meeting,” she intoned.

He groaned at the old joke.

Ivy laughed, opening the bag of food. “I have a feeling I’d better eat up. If that list of names is as long as I think it’s going to be, Antoine and I will be hoofing it for days, trying to talk to everyone and account for their whereabouts during the murders. Or, I guess, we’re really going to be accounting for the whereabouts of the trucks they’ve rented, since it’s possible someone other than the renters could have access to the vehicles.” Her brow wrinkled. “Goody.”

“If you asked, Rachel Davenport would probably agree to let me help you and Antoine out with the legwork.”

She stopped in the middle of unwrapping a sandwich. “You’re right. She’d probably agree, and sure, Antoine and I could use the help beating the bushes. But if Rayburn even knew you were sitting here with me while I waited for this list, he’d take me off the case. And I don’t want off this case.”

He felt like a jerk for pressuring her now. She’d been more accommodating than he’d have been in her position. “You’re right. I should be following my own leads.”

“Except your leads are my leads,” she said in a resigned tone. Lowering her voice, she added, “I’m not alone in