Survival Clause - Jenna Bennett Page 0,75

we still think happened,” Bob said promptly. “She went out to somebody’s truck with him, and ended up dead. At that time, we just didn’t see the pattern.”

“There wasn’t a pattern at that time.”

Bob nodded. “Took a couple more victims for that.”

“So at the time you just thought it was random.”

“At first we didn’t know what it was,” Bob said. “We checked on her husband, and anyone else she might have gotten involved with while Frankie was inside—”

“Was she involved with anyone else while Frankie was inside?”

“Not like that,” Bob said. “Her mama told us that sometimes she went outside with a trucker for a little extra money…”

Mrs. Drimmel had told Grimaldi and me the same thing.

“—but other than that, there was nobody in particular. So we figured she’d gone outside with the wrong guy. That’s still what I think.”

I nodded.

“You and Tamara getting any closer to figuring anything out?”

I guess she must have run her own investigation by him, to get permission or just to let him know she was asking questions. “Not much,” I admitted, as Dix shifted closer, maybe attracted by the mention of Grimaldi’s name. “We got off on a tangent about the Latin teacher and the kid he molested.”

“Because of the numerals.” Bob nodded.

“Grimaldi thinks Jurgensson is buried somewhere on Daffodil Hill Farm.”

Bob’s eyebrows rose. “What gave her that idea?”

“She didn’t tell me. I didn’t notice anything suspicious, so it might just be instinct on her part. Or imagination.”

“Instinct,” Dix said. I glanced at him, but he didn’t say anything else.

I turned back to Bob. “I don’t imagine there’s any reason to think he’s dead at all, really, other than the social security business. But if he is…”

“Daffodil Hill Farm’s a better place to look than many others,” Bob concluded. “Plenty of land up there to hide a body. And Art Mullinax has had plenty of offers to sell off parts of the woods in the past few years, but he’s always said no.”

“Could be he just wants to keep urban sprawl from creeping in,” Dix suggested.

Bob spared him a glance. “Could be. No reason to think otherwise. Except…”

He went into thinking mode, his gray eyes distant. I glanced at Rafe. “What do you think?”

My husband shrugged. “If Tammy says so, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was right.”

Sure. But… “Surely she isn’t in the habit of accusing totally unrelated people of murder? I mean, I get why she might think that Jurgensson is dead. Nobody’s heard from him in years, other than Mullinax. Or at least nobody admits to having heard from him. But to go from there to thinking that some random guy murdered him and buried him in the pasture…”

I ran out of breath and had to stop for a moment. Bob shook his head. “He’s not just some random guy, Savannah.”

“I know he and Jurgensson played golf together. Uncle Sid told me.”

“He’s Judy Trent’s brother,” Bob said. “Judy was Noah’s mother.”

I blinked. “So Art Mullinax is—was—Noah Trent’s uncle.”

Bob nodded.

“Well, that would explain it.” Or would at least explain it better. “Does Grimaldi know that?”

“I don’t imagine so,” Bob said. “She hasn’t been here long enough to know the ins and outs of the personal relationships.”

No. Not if I didn’t know, and I’d lived here most of my life.

“If Noah and Jurgensson are both dead, though,” Dix said, “they can’t be involved with your serial killer case.”

Rafe and Bob both shook their heads. “We gotta look for those Roman numerals somewhere else,” Rafe added.

“You don’t suppose Mullinax…?”

I trailed off when the waitress showed up to take our drink orders. “Hi, Lynn. I’ll have sweet tea, please.”

Lynn nodded. “Did I hear you mention Judy Trent?”

I glanced at Bob, and at Dix and Rafe, before I nodded. “Do you know her?”

“She lives down the street from me,” Lynn said, taking down Rafe’s drink order. Bob and Dix had been here when we arrived, and were taken care of already. “Everything all right?”

“Fine.” The sheriff smiled at her. “Nothing to worry about.”

“That’s right,” I said lightly, “you live in Sunnyside, don’t you?” It wasn’t really a question. I knew very well where she lived. It was just a couple of months since I’d broken into her house, or at least her garage. “I guess you know the Drimmels, too.”

She nodded. “Nice folks. Well, she’s nice. I don’t know him well. And the kids are OK. Horrible, that video of Curtis the other night. Good thing you got there in time to stop anything from happening