The Killing Game(30)

“We just want to talk to you about Phillip and Jan Singleton.”

“Who?”

September suspected he knew exactly who she was talking about but would have played along if Gretchen hadn’t growled, “Are we gonna play this game? That’s what you want to do? That’s your choice?”

“Hey, missy. Don’t get your knickers in a knot.”

September put a shoulder between them, completely aware that to Gretchen, them’s was fightin’ words. “You knew the Singletons. They lived right across the street from you.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re talkin’ about the old people who offed themselves. Pretty crazy.”

“You know exactly who we’re talking about,” Gretchen said through her teeth.

September hurriedly put in, “That’s correct. And Jan Singleton’s brother, Harold Jenkins, died at the house earlier.”

“Yeah, he lived there a while. We just didn’t see him no more.”

This was far more than she’d expected. Encouraged, September swept on before Gretchen could say anything, “That’s what we understand. There’s an ongoing investigation, but the piece we’re concentrating on is the discovery of an approximately eighteen-year-old male’s bones. We have no identification on him, so we’re talking to anyone who might remember someone of that age around the Singleton home about ten, twelve years ago.”

“There’s that granddaughter.”

“It’s a male,” Gretchen said with forced restraint.

“I heared you all right. That girl ain’t no thirty years old or so neither. Just thought she’s closer to the dead guy’s age than I am, that’s for sure.”

“Frances didn’t live at the house until her grandparents died,” September told him.

“Caleb didn’t live with me neither, so I guess he’s no help, huh?”

“None at all,” Gretchen said.

“That’s why we’re talking to you,” September reiterated.

Now that he’d gotten over trying to stay out of their way, Tynan Myles seemed to think it all a great lark that they were talking about his “crazy” neighbors. He launched into a long-winded account of some past Fourth of July when Phillip Singleton had suffered third degree burns on his hands from holding a firecracker too long. “Stupid dumbo,” Tynan cackled. “Lucky he didn’t lose any fingers. His thumb was like raw meat there for a while. I remember that.”

“Did you know Nathan Singleton, their son?”

“Nathan . . . yeah, I knew him.” Tynan’s mood darkened. “He was in love with that stupid dumbo wife of his, what the hell was her name?”

“Davinia,” Gretchen supplied.

“That’s right. Davinia. She was screwy as a three-dollar bill, I’ll tell ya, but he just wanted her like a drunk wants a drink. Always rubbing her arm whenever they were around, and you just knew he wanted to be rubbing something else. She always looked kinda bored. Never understood why they got married in the first place, except Nathan just wanted her, and maybe she thought he had some money.”

“Why was she screwy as a three-dollar bill?” September asked, and Gretchen turned to give her a what-the-hell look. She clearly thought September was going off point, which she was, but she was curious about Tynan’s thoughts.

“Well, you know, new boobs, new nose, newfangled diet. Always wantin’ more, and Nathan didn’t have much. You know that car he drove off the cliff was about a month old. Financial troubles. With her always raggin’ on him about the next thing, you can see why he did it.”

“You’re saying he caused the accident on purpose?” September asked.

“He killed himself and his wife.” Gretchen’s tone was disbelieving.

Tynan shrugged. “That’s what Mom always thought, but that was before she went . . .” He circled his finger beside his ear.

“Your mother. Grace Myles?” September clarified.

“Hannah tell ya she’s batty?”

“It’s your mother’s house you all live in,” Gretchen said. “But she’s in assisted living.”

“House is mine. Smart lawyer got her to sign it over before she went completely nuts. Had to wait a few years before she went into Memory Care so the state wouldn’t take it back. She kept wandering off and we’d have to fetch her and drag her home. Finally, we could put her in that place and let the state take care of her. You know how much it costs? Nothin’ for us now, thank the good Lord, but woo-wee.”

“How well did your mother know the Singletons?” September asked.

“Better’n I did. Lot better.”

“Do you think she’d remember them?”

Tynan gave September a long look. “She’s batty. Remembers stuff from years ago. Pops out with it. But it don’t make a lot of sense. No rhyme or reason, y’know? Just whatever floats across her dumb brain.”

“In your expert opinion,” Gretchen said sardonically, “do you think it would be worth our while talking to her?”

Her tone wasn’t lost on Tynan. He thought about taking offense, actually opened his mouth to snap back, but then thought better of it and clamped his lips shut tight for a few moments before adding, “Go on ahead. She’s at Maple Grove Assisted Living.”