A Kiss Gone Bad by Jeff Abbott Page A

answering our questions.’ Delford stood. ‘And like Detective Salazar said, don’t leave town, miss. There may be
     a death inquest and you may have to give testimony.’
    ‘I’ll stick like glue. Later.’ She gathered up her knapsack and left without a backward glance.
    Delford Spires shut the door. ‘And they say charm school don’t make a difference no more.’
    ‘She seems awfully sure, on the basis of little detail and thin acquaintance with the man, that he committed suicide. Would
     a man really kill himself over something that happened to his brother long ago?’
    ‘I worked the Corey Hubble case.’ Delford sat back down. ‘A heartbreaker. Here one day, gone the next, and never a sign of
     him again. I wonder what this connection is to a preacher. Corey sure wasn’t religious – he was a little hell-raiser.’
    Claudia told him about Pete’s tape and the mention of Jabez Jones.
    Delford clicked his tongue. ‘Jabez Jones was just a kid then, too, and sure to God was never a suspect. Shit, there was never
     a sign of foul play in that case, period. Corey just ran off and landed himself into real hot water and never resurfaced.’
    ‘Pete clearly thought otherwise,’ Claudia said. ‘I think I’ll talk to Jabez Jones.’ She watched Delford slump in his seat.
     She was fond of him, like one might be of an old-fashioned uncle.
    ‘How are the Hubbles?’ she asked.
    ‘Devastated. I think they felt they’d just gotten Pete back in their lives. He’s stayed his distance. Lucinda’s a real strong
     woman, but this might undo her. They gave me preliminary statements.’
    A twinge of irritation nipped at her. He’d assigned herthe case yet taken statements from the immediate family. Perhaps it had been best, she reasoned, giving him the benefit of
     a doubt, but she decided to explode the land mine.
    ‘So do they know Pete was a porn star?’ She explained the tapes.
    ‘Holy hell, no. At least she didn’t mention it to me. Why does a son hurt a mother so?’
    ‘Maybe she hurt him. Parents can be rotten.’
    Delford snorted. ‘Lucinda gave Pete the world. It ain’t her fault he didn’t want it.’ He sighed, a long, arduous wheeze, and
     stood. He regarded her with critical affection. ‘You up for this big a case?’
    ‘Of course.’ She labeled the tape of Heather’s statement and dropped it in an accordion folder.
    ‘You okay about David?’
    She closed the folder. ‘I’m fine, Delford, really.’
    ‘I noticed today that you weren’t wearing your ring no more.’
    Claudia’s thumb rubbed along the bare ring finger. A band where the skin, shielded by metal that supposedly meant forever,
     stayed pale. ‘Yeah, well, the divorce was final yesterday. I sent David back the ring.’
    ‘I know it’s a tough time, Claud, and maybe I ought to let Gardner handle this one.’
    ‘There’s no need,’ Claudia said. ‘Really, Delford, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine and work is heaven for me right
     now.’
    He coughed.
    ‘I can smell the advice baking,’ she said.
    ‘I’d treat this like a suicide.’
    ‘I don’t think Whit and the ME have talked cause of death yet.’
    Delford ran a finger along a curve of his mustache.‘Whit Mosley couldn’t find his ass in the dark with three flashlights. After the election he’ll probably be running a snow-cone
     stand.’
    ‘No. He’ll be a housepainter,’ Claudia said.
    ‘You ain’t one bit funny,’ Delford shot back. It was a Port Leo legend: fifteen years ago Whit and his five brothers had,
     in four masterful hours when Delford was away at a football game, painted Delford’s house pink. Violent, electric, Pepto-Bismol
     pink. Delford, unwilling to be the butt of a joke, had viewed the Mosley boys like crazed terrorists, even after they repainted
     his house back to its original white. The rest of the town hid its laughter behind their hands and shook their heads in mock
     scorn at those wild Mosleys.
    ‘You’re still not