CHAPTER 66.

AN HOUR LATER KING MET SALLYat the end of his driveway, led her past all the construction on his new home and down the steps to his houseboat.

The young woman was obviously very nervous. To put her at ease, King said, "It's the right thing to do, Sally. It really is. And once you get it off your chest, you'll feel better."

They sat at his small kitchen table as the lake water slowly lapped at the boat's hull. He'd fixed her a cup of hot tea and was now staring at the woman expectantly.

"Junior," he finally said. "You came to tell me about Junior?"

Sally let out a huge breath and plunged in. "I was with him when the burglary happened."

King was startled. "You helped him break in?"

"No! Not at the Battle house. At Junior's house, the new one he's building."

"So he didn't commit the burglary?"

"He couldn't have. We were there from eight at night until almost four in the morning. And it's a good hour's drive from the Battles'."

"Why were you with Junior at his new house?"

Sally took a drink of the tea and sat back, her face flushed, her cheeks stamped with fresh tears. "Oh, G.o.d, I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"Sally? Why were you with him?" King asked pointedly.

"We'd gotten to know each other when he worked at the Battles'. We . . . we were both lonely, I guess."

"You were having an affair with Junior?"

"It's not like that, not at all!" she answered hotly.

"Then tell me what itwas like," said King calmly. like," said King calmly.

"We were just friends. At first. I mean, well." She put down the teacup and leaned forward. "He'd told me he was going to be working at the house all night. His wife had the night off and was with the kids. I went there, seduced him, and we had s.e.x. There. That's it. I told you."

"Youseducedhim ?" ?"

She looked offended. "I'm not always dressed in jeans and covered with horses.h.i.t, Sean. I clean up pretty d.a.m.n well. He was surprised when I showed up there, of course. But I made it clear to him what I was after."

"But I thought Junior really loved Lulu."

"He did, but he's a man after all and I was wearing next to nothing and my offer was pretty tough to refuse. I just wanted s.e.x, no questions and no commitments. And from what he told me, Lulu hadn't been paying him much attention for quite a while. Worked long hours at that club."

"So you found Junior ready, willing and able?"

"Let's put it this way: he wouldn't have been physically capable of committing that burglary. h.e.l.l,I could barely walk when it was over." could barely walk when it was over."

King put up a hand. "Okay, okay, I don't need any more details."

Sally rubbed her eyes. "The thing is, I really liked him. I know he was big and tough-looking, but he was really a sweet guy underneath."

"Why didn't you come forward when Junior was arrested for the burglary?"

"He wouldn't let me! He said he'd rather go to jail than let Lulu find out."

"Okay, I guess I can see that. What else?"

"That's it. I snuck away from the Battle funeral to say my good-byes over Junior's grave. I didn't think anyone had seen me." She looked down at the table. "Will all this have to come out?"

"Maybe not, now that Junior's dead and Remmy is convinced of his innocence. And I guess there's no reason to ruin Lulu's memory of her husband."

"He did love her, Sean; I was just a onetime fling, that's all." She added in a very small voice, "I guess that's all I ever am."

After Sally had left, King thought about calling Mich.e.l.le but decided to let it wait until morning. It had been a long day. He went to bed.

Outside the houseboat the man had watched Sally leave. He had used the listening device he'd planted to hear the entire conversation between the two. He looked up at the houseboat as the last light was extinguished there. He'd wait until Sean King was fully asleep, and then he was going to pay him one final visit.

CHAPTER 67.

MICh.e.l.lE HAD DRIVEN HOME,done some kickboxing on the heavy bag hanging in her bas.e.m.e.nt, put away some laundry and actually cleaned her kitchen. After that she showered and was thinking about going to bed but had grown very restless. Her mind kept returning to the murders. Was there something they were overlooking? King had suggested that Mrs. Canney hadn't died in a car accident, that she had been murdered. If so, by whom?

Her head buzzing, she decided to go for a drive; that always helped her think more clearly. Her route took her past her and King's office. She parked and went inside, figuring she'd go over her voluminous notes on the investigation she kept in her desk to see if anything clicked.

As she pa.s.sed through the small office foyer, she saw some telephone messages on the part-time receptionist's desk. There was one for King from a Billy Edwards. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. The area code was from the Los Angeles area. It was still early enough there, she decided. One thing that annoyed her about working with King was that he kept things incredibly close to the vest, even at the expense of his partner. This might be a chance for her to get the jump on him. She called Edwards. On the third ring the phone was picked up.

"Billy Edwards?"

"That's right. Who's this?"

"Mich.e.l.le Maxwell. I'm partners with Sean King in Wrightsburg, Virginia. I believe he called you?"

"That's right. I was just getting back to him."

"He's out right now and asked me to return the call."

"Fine with me. So what do you want to know about the time I worked at the Battles'?"

Now the name clicked. Billy Edwards was the mechanic for Bobby Battle's cla.s.sic car collection. He'd been let go the day after Bobby and Remmy's argument, the one Sally Wainwright had overheard.

"That's right," Mich.e.l.le said quickly. "We understand you were let go very abruptly."

Edwards laughed. "Try thrown out on my a.s.s with no warning."

"By Bobby Battle?"

"The one and only. I heard on the news that he died. Is that right?"

"Yes. Did he give any reason for letting you go?"

"Nope. But he didn't have to. It didn't have anything to do with my work, I know that. Now, I admit I was p.i.s.sed with how it was handled, but the man treated me good. Paid me a nice severance and wrote a d.a.m.n fine reference that helped me get another job pretty quick out in Ohio working for another rich guy with a car collection bigger than Battle's."

"Good for you. Now, we understand that the night before you were let go he and Mrs. Battle had an argument in the car barn."

"Remmy Battle, now, there's a real piece of work. Let me tell you, those two were equally matched, like G.o.dzilla b.u.t.ting heads with King Kong."

"Agreed. But did you know anything about an argument?"

"No. How'd you find out about it?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, it's confidential."

"Uh-huh. I bet you it was Sally Wainwright, wasn't it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because she liked going down there and hanging out by herself. Of course she'd go down there with me sometimes too," he added with a chuckle. "Oh, yeah, we had some good times together, me and Sally."

"So you two were . . . seeing each other."

"No. It was just messing around. She was wild, let me tell you. If Battle had known what we'd done inside some of his vehicles . . ."

"Really?"

"h.e.l.l, yes. But I wasn't the only one."

"Who else?"

"Is Mason still working there?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go."

Mich.e.l.le couldn't hide her astonishment. "Mason was sleeping with Sally?"

"At least that's what she said." He added, "I never personally saw them doing it. But she's a pretty girl. I probably shouldn't be saying this to a woman, but you all live in the same house together, you know, things happen. You see her running around in something skimpy or coming out of the bathroom in a little towel, hey, we're only human. I'm not apologizing for it."

"I get the picture. Anyone else?"

"Probably, but I don't have names for you."

"Sally said that Bobby had just pulled in driving the Rolls-Royce when he and Remmy got into their argument."

"The Rolls? It was a beauty. Only something like five in the whole world. Did he end up getting rid of it?"

"Apparently, he did so the very next day."

"I thought he would."

Mich.e.l.le stiffened. "Why do you say that?"

"The morning I got canned I went to get my tools and stuff from the car barn. I always had a thing for that Rolls. That was one sweet machine. Anyway, this was the last time I was going to see it. Not like I'd be buying one of my own." Edwards laughed.

Mich.e.l.le, however, was as taut as a strung bow. "So what did you do?"

"I wanted to take one last look at it. Pulled the cover off and sat in it, pretending it was mine."

"Right, right," said Mich.e.l.le impatiently. "But why did you think Battle was going to get rid of the car?"

"Because when I was covering it back up, I noticed that the left front fender was dented and one of the headlights had been cracked. It had to have happened the night before because I'd just checked the car that afternoon and it was fine. It wasn't all that much damage really, but a car like that you're talking thousands of dollars in repairs. And you can't get parts for a vehicle like that anymore. It was a real shame. I guess Battle hit something and was p.i.s.sed off. The guy hated anything to be out of sync. He used to come down to the barn and ream me if he found oil on the floor or a license plate hung crooked. It probably made him sick to see the damage on that Rolls. If he couldn't fix it just right, he'd get rid of it. Just the way the man was."

"Did you ever tell anyone the Rolls-Royce had been damaged?"

"No. It was his car; he could do what he wanted with it."

"Do you remember the exact date it was damaged?"

"Well, it must've happened the night before I got fired. Like I said, I'd checked it that afternoon and there was no damage."

"I understand that. But what date was that?"

Edwards was silent for a bit. "It was over three years ago, I know that. In the fall or thereabouts. I did some work for a company down in North Carolina until the job in Ohio came through. Maybe September. No, I think it was October or maybe November. At least I think," he said with less confidence.

"You can't be any more specific?"

"Look, I have a hard time remembering where I was last week, much less three years ago. I've moved around quite a bit since then."

"Could you look up your payment stubs from when you worked at the Battles'? Or from the jobs in North Carolina or Ohio? That would narrow it down."

"Lady, I live in a one-bedroom apartment in West Hollywood. I don't have room to keep stuff like that. I barely have s.p.a.ce for clothes."

"Well, if you remember, will you please call me back?"

"Sure, if it's important."

"It's very important."

Mich.e.l.le put down the phone and sat at her desk. Over three years ago in the fall. Yet if ithad been the fall, it would be about three and a half years ago, since it was springtime right now. She sat bolt upright. been the fall, it would be about three and a half years ago, since it was springtime right now. She sat bolt upright.Wait a minute, she said to herself. she said to herself.Sally Wainwright would probably remember the exact date. She checked her watch. It was too late to call her. They could do it in the morning. Right now, though, she wanted to get ahold of King and tell him what she'd learned. She checked her watch. It was too late to call her. They could do it in the morning. Right now, though, she wanted to get ahold of King and tell him what she'd learned.

She called his cell phone but there was no answer. She left a message. He didn't have a hard-line number at his houseboat. He was probably asleep. She stared at her phone, mulling over what to do. Part of her said to call it a night and go home, yet as she looked down at her phone, she started to get a very strange feeling. Sean was a light sleeper. Why hadn't he answered? His caller ID would have shown it was her. Unless he couldn't answer the phone! She grabbed her keys and raced to her truck.