heard a woman scream.” They both looked over at me. “No, I’ve never seen her before.” Rhett’s voice changed on that one. His cadence quickened. It sounded like a lie to me, so surely the deputy would pick up on it, but he didn’t say a word. Maybe it was the good old boy network at play, or maybe the deputy didn’t notice. They obviously knew each other from the way they had greeted each other and did the man handshake hug thing. “Yeah, I’ve been sleeping on my boat.”
I’d had numerous conversations with police officers before while working as a librarian. The library where I worked was in an urban area. Homeless people used it as a place to rest, read, or use the internet. Usually we didn’t have problems, but occasionally we did. Not only with them, but with men who came in to use the computers to watch porn, nannies who got in fights at story time, and kids who wandered off. But I’d never had a conversation with law enforcement officers after finding a dead man.
While I waited, the loud voices at the bar last night kept rolling through my head. Maybe Vivi had noticed Elwell and his armadillo hat were scaring off the clientele too. Or maybe they had a history I knew nothing about. Or maybe it wasn’t even Elwell she had been arguing with.
Vivi had shown up thirty minutes ago. She was all decked out, strappy sandals, carefully pressed linen pants, and hair styled so perfectly, it looked like she was ready for a photo shoot. Vivi eyed me from a distance, but the deputies wouldn’t let her near me. And believe me, she’d tried.
The deputy finished up with Rhett and headed over to me. I took another shaky drink of my water. Tried to gather myself. Rhett walked off in the direction of Vivi, but she turned her back to him. He hesitated, glanced back at me, and strolled out of sight. The deputy stopped in front of me and squinted. His name tag said Biffle.
“You doing okay? I’m Deputy Biffle. I’m with the Walton County Sheriff’s Department.” Officer Biffle was a beefy guy with a blond crew cut and a broad forehead. His mirrored aviator glasses reflected my anxious, round face. My short hair stuck up in all kinds of directions and my brown eyes looked scared. But his voice was kind and I relaxed just a little.
“Considering the situation, I guess I’m okay.” I tried to shut down the image of the knife sticking out of Elwell’s neck, but didn’t have much luck.
“Name?”
“That’s Elwell Pugh.” I tipped my head toward the dumpster.
“Your name?”
“Oh, sorry. Of course. I’m rattled. Beyond rattled actually.” When he didn’t say more, I realized I still hadn’t answered his question. “Chloe. Chloe Jackson.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Well, I don’t know what happened to Elwell. Not specifically. It looks like someone stabbed him,” I think he rolled his eyes behind those mirrored aviators, “with a channel knife.” A channel knife is a must-have tool for any bartender that’s used for making garnishes. Joaquín’s voice rolled through my head. Information he’d given me two days ago. Why was I thinking that at a time like this?
“Why don’t you tell me about finding him?”
“Yes.” I really needed to get Deputy Biffle on my side. I remembered I was living in the land of yes, ma’ams, and no, sirs. I’d better follow protocol. “Yes, sir.” I started at the point when I’d noticed Elwell’s foot by the dumpster and how Rhett had happened along. My heart pounded a little harder with the omission of sleeping on the boat and talking to Rhett.
“What were you doing out here?” he asked.
“Morning run.” Thud, thud, thud went my heart. I felt like the man in the opening of Poe’s “Tell-Tale Heart”—“nervous—very, very dreadfully nervous.” But why should I mention it? My sleeping on the boat didn’t seem relevant to Elwell’s murder; it was embarrassing, and maybe trespassing. “I work at the Sea Glass. I ran on the beach and walked back along the harbor to cool down.” It was true yesterday. I hoped the truth part came through and the nervous part would be chalked up to finding a dead body. Every detective novel I’d ever read said to keep your answers short, so I did. I wished he didn’t have the aviators on so I could get more of a read of what he was thinking.
“You always run with your purse?”
He was observant. I’d slung it cross-body style after I’d picked it up. “Not always. I was hoping to grab some breakfast somewhere.” Thank heavens I had running shoes on. At least they lent some plausibility to my story.
He jotted down notes. “How well do you know Elwell?”
“I don’t really know him.”
Officer Biffle looked up from his notebook.
“Elwell hangs out at the Sea Glass sometimes. He was in the bar yesterday, and I asked Joaquín—he’s the bartender—why Elwell was wearing an armadillo on his head. I thought it was strange, but I’m new to the area, so maybe not.” I didn’t want to seem judgmental.
“It’s strange.”
I ran through my few observations. I left out the part about hearing Vivi argue with a man. I didn’t know whether it was Elwell. Well, not for sure anyway. “Do you think it was a robbery?” That would be better—not for Elwell of course, what with him being dead and all—but for Vivi.
“We don’t make snap judgments about murders.”
“Good to know.”
“I’ll need your contact details,” he said.
Oh, sugar. I gave him my cell phone number, hoping that would be enough. It wasn’t.
“What’s your address?” he asked after he wrote down my number.
“You can find me at the Sea Glass.” I waved a hand toward it.
“I need the address. Of where you’re staying.”
People around here spoke more slowly than they did in Chicago. But his words were so slow it was obvious he thought I was an idiot.
“I’ve been moving around. It’s tourist season and hard to find a place to stay. One that I can afford anyway.” Maybe I was an idiot—I wasn’t even sure Vivi was going to pay me beyond the tips I made. She’d made it clear she didn’t want me around. I saw a twitch of his lips. Not the kind that foreshadowed a smile, but the kind that meant someone was angry. My oldest brother was the master of the twitch, and every part of me wanted to run like I had as a kid, but in this case I managed to stay put. Bolting wouldn’t go well for me. I gave him the address of the two hotels I’d stayed at. Didn’t say I hadn’t been at either last night or the two nights before that. He grimaced when I mentioned the low-rent one.
“Not very safe,” he said.
“I know, sir. I’m continuing my search for an apartment.”
He let it go after that. Thank heavens.
“Let me know if you think of anything else.” Biffle whipped out a card and handed it to me.
“Yes, sir.” He turned and almost ran over Vivi. I hadn’t noticed her approach because I’d been concentrating on Officer
