The River Widow(36)

Her mind scrambled, but she kept control over her voice, hard as it was. “The river was full of debris—big things, like logs and doors and tanks. I was in it, too. I know.”

“Yep, I know about that. But like I said, there’s only one way to find out for sure the cause of death. You’re the man’s widow, so I figured you’d want to know how he died.”

“I already know how he died.”

He smiled again, as if he might have admired her spunk for a passing moment. “According to you, yes. And if you got nothing to hide, I reckon you wouldn’t have no objection to getting that body back out of the ground and doing some work on it, now, would you?”

Adah shrugged. “I think it’s desecration of a body that’s already been put to rest, but if you’re asking if I’d put up a fight . . . probably not.”

“Good to know,” he said, nodding. “Good to know.”

Adah kept still. The idea of an autopsy was terrifying. She knew little of forensics but had the impression it was known for accuracy. But could an autopsy be accurate enough to determine if Lester had died from a blow before he went into the water? Could the past come back in such a powerful way? Could she still be found guilty of murder?

Drucker fished a small notepad out from his jacket’s inside pocket. “Why don’t you tell me the events of that night, blow by blow.” He threw her a menacing stare. “Blow by blow, so to speak.”

Adah didn’t crumble but instead relayed her now tired, worn story, including how she and Lester had gone for the milk cow, being careful not to add anything or leave anything out.

After he listened while observing her with a skeptical eye, he made a few notes, then abruptly closed the notepad and seemed to be working himself up to leave.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Adah asked.

He smiled ruefully. “I think we done enough for one day.” He stood, and Adah followed him to the porch steps.

Adah said to his back, “I have a question.” Then sucked in a tight breath as Drucker turned to face her. She had to let Drucker know she was no easy target. “If I may be so bold as to ask.”

He swept his right hand in front of himself. “Go on ahead.”

“Why did you come out here to question me?” Adah figured Drucker didn’t have enough cause to bring her to the station for a more formal interrogation, and she hoped she was correct. “Why didn’t you take me to your headquarters if you suspect me of something? Why not bring me in?”

He seemed a bit startled. Then quickly recovered. “You want me to do that? Believe me, sweetheart, I can bring you in at any time.”

Adah shrugged. “No, thank you.”

He laughed again, and the sound grated against Adah’s skin. “You want me to put you in handcuffs, too?”

“No, thank you,” Adah said again.

He was openly studying her. Then he finally said, “You can be sure I aim to keep in touch, Adah Branch. And you best know this, too: I’ll be quietly working behind the scenes to get to the bottom of this matter. It takes a while to get a body exhumed, but you better believe I’m going to keep at it till it’s done.”

“Feel free,” Adah said and then regretted her tone. She lowered her voice. “For your information, I don’t have anything to hide. Do what you think you have to do. I hate the idea of my husband’s battered body being brought out of peaceful slumber and getting cut into pieces, but do what you have to do if that’s what Buck and Mabel want. In fact, it will prove my innocence, once and for all.”

Drucker took the steps down two at a time, then turned and set his heavy gaze back on her. With a sinister grin he said, “We’ll see about that.”

The rest of the day, Adah was close to useless, thoughts braiding together into a complex web. How much influence did Manfred Drucker have at the sheriff’s department or with the police? What could he really do? She didn’t even know his rank. She didn’t know if it was the police department or the sheriff’s department that had jurisdiction. But the image of Drucker followed her now, a shadowy form that could not be shaken off. His words as menacing as Buck’s had been. We’ll see about that. She had no one to consult, no one to turn to. She had the money from Lester’s cash box, but for the moment it was useless to her. What good was money to a prisoner?

She still had to return Jack Darby’s laundry, and Adah hoped he would be gone. Since her disastrous request and his denial, she’d had no want of making any small talk with the man. But as his farm came into view, she saw his truck. Not seeing him anywhere about, however, she moved quietly, aiming to place his basket on the front porch and then turn around and leave.

Instead he opened the door and came outside as soon as she reached the bottom step, as though he had been watching her approach. His mysterious appearance and the way he held her gaze made Adah feel uncomfortable. She waited for him to speak; time was suspended. Expectancy dangled in the air.

He never said hello or greeted her. Instead he spoke slowly. “You’ve made me curious, Mrs. Branch.”

She had no idea what he was telling her or how to respond.

“If you still want my help, I’m now offering it.”

She gulped as she looked into his face. Hatless today, he appeared older, wiser. His forehead was shades lighter than the rest of his face and tracked with deep horizontal lines.