Diet Coke, sat at the table with the police files in front of her, and put the call through. When Lisa answered, the background noise indicated that she was on speakerphone in her car.
Arden said, “Evidently I’ve caught you at a bad time.”
“I’m only running errands. What’s going on? Did your pervert drive by last night?”
She wasn’t certain Rusty Dyle could be classified as a pervert. Snake oil salesman, maybe. He had that kind of pointy-mustache leer and mannerisms. He’d clasped her hand a little too long for what should have been a polite handshake between strangers. Thinking about him made her shudder.
“Arden?”
“I don’t know for sure if he came by last night or not. I was exhausted. The round-trip drive to Dallas and all.” The “all” being her go-rounds with Ledge. Fighting with him, kissing him, fighting some more. “I was history the instant my head hit the pillow.” She pushed on before Lisa could grill her.
“I’ve given a lot of thought to our conversation yesterday. Speaking for myself, and I believe for you, it was like undergoing open-heart surgery. Grueling and painful, but healing in the long run. I don’t want to dim the afterglow.”
“But?”
“I went to the courthouse this morning, the sheriff’s office, and got the investigation reports on the Welch’s burglary and Brian Foster’s death.”
“You did? Why? If you wanted to see those reports, you should have asked me for them yesterday.”
“You have them?” Arden exclaimed. “Since when?
“Since forever. I got them before I even moved us away.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Lisa repeated, sounding dismayed by the question. “The investigators were alleging, and people were accepting, that Dad was guilty of both. I wanted to know what evidence they had to base such accusations on. Isn’t that why you wanted the reports?”
“Precisely. Which makes it all the more flabbergasting that you never shared them with me.”
“Arden, you were ten years old. The description of Foster’s remains wasn’t for the faint of heart. If either had contained something vital, I would have shared it with you. Neither did.
“There was no evidence placing Dad at either the store or where Foster was discovered. The authorities based their allegations solely on Dad being an embittered former employee, who had butted heads with Foster the day he was fired. That was their only substantiation.”
“That wasn’t the only substantiation, Lisa,” she said softly. “Rather than answer to the charges, he vanished, and so did an estimated half a million dollars.”
It pained Arden to say that, and her sister couldn’t dispute it.
“True,” Lisa said. “Those facts do point a finger at him. Collectively, it’s compelling, but it’s all circumstantial. Every scrap of it. When you read the reports, you’ll see what I mean.”
Musing aloud, Arden said, “I wonder what a prosecutor today would think of them. How much stock one would put into them?”
“Probably none if Rusty Dyle is still the DA.”
Arden couldn’t believe that Lisa had spoken the name that, not five minutes ago, she had determined not to mention. “What do you know about him?”
“Only that he’s irksome. You remember Sheriff Dyle?”
“Yes.”
“Rusty is his son. Growing up, he was a thoroughly obnoxious brat, always pulling pranks. Often cruel ones. He picked on the underdogs. Thinking of him as DA is enough to make one cringe.”
Lisa went on to describe the man exactly as Arden would. “He had this sly grin that suggested he had the goods on you. You know the type.”
Yes, Arden had come face-to-face with that type half an hour ago, but she was reluctant to tell Lisa about it, afraid she would go into orbit.
“He was odious back then, and I doubt he’s improved with age. In fact, he’s probably worse because of the power he wields.” Lisa gave a light laugh. “I’m sure Ledge Burnet finds that hard to swallow.”
For a second time, Arden was taken aback. Was Ledge’s grudge with the DA common knowledge? “Why do you say that?”
“They were rivals over this girl. Crissy. Kristin. Something like that. I knew her only by reputation. She was a hot ticket. I wonder if she’s still around. If so, those two might still be feuding over her favors.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Arden murmured.
“Speaking of Burnet, before you left yesterday, you promised to call me after you had talked to him, but I didn’t hear from you. What did you tell him?”
“That his services wouldn’t be needed after all.” She recalled the moment with embarrassing clarity. She’d wanted to flail at him, while at the same time wanting to throw herself