investigation. My goodness, we’re just here to study the methods of your excellent historical society.”
The sheriff nodded and began questioning each person in the room starting with Brian.
I was glad that the doctor, who had come earlier to examine Annabeth’s body, had given him a sedative to calm him down. I could still hear his screams when they told him about the murder. Brian’s voice was flat as he told the sheriff about how he and Annabeth had come home from the dance around one o’clock. He had been hungry, so they had gone into the kitchen and raided the icebox, making cold chicken sandwiches and drinking tea. After they finished, he walked Annabeth to her room and then went to his own room and went to sleep. “I conked out right away,” he said, his voice breaking. “I wish I hadn’t drunk so much beer at the dance—I might have heard something.” He put his head down and started sobbing like a baby.
The sheriff turned to Miss Mary Ann. “How about you, ma’am?”
Miss Mary Ann looked at Brian with tears in her eyes. She shook herself and turned to the sheriff. “Oh, lordy, I don’t know if I can remember. Everything’s happened so fast.” She dabbed at her eyes with the Kleenex she was holding. “It’s all just so terrible. Let me think a minute. Um … well, Annabeth and Brian helped me with the dinner dishes for a little while, but I could see they were wanting to get out to the dance, so I sent them on off. After
I finished the kitchen, I went into my room to watch my shows on TV.” She got up and went over to where Brian was sitting. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he shook her off.
“Which room is yours?” The sheriff held up his hand. “Hold it a minute. Looks like Wiggs here’s run out of tape.” While the deputy replaced the tape in his recorder, the sheriff walked over to the coffee urn on the desk and filled a mug with coffee, and when he did, I noticed that he was holding his side like it hurt. “Anybody else?” His face was pale as he turned to face the room. Everybody shook their heads.
After the deputy had the tape running again, Miss Mary Ann continued. “It’s a suite, really, a bedroom and a little sitting room. It’s that door there.” She pointed to a door just past the bar. “It’s the only sleeping quarters on the first floor. All the guest rooms are upstairs.”
“So, you’re watching TV in your room. Hear anything?”
“Well, yes. You see, just as Eyewitness News out of Shreveport was starting, the bell on the door tinkled, and I went out to the lobby to see who had come in. It was Mr. Masters, here.” She pointed to the man in the suit. “He was supposed to check in before six, but he had car trouble.”
Mr. Lew Masters nodded. “That’s right, Sheriff. It was just shortly after ten. I was tired, so I went right up to my room and went to bed.”
“Did you know the young lady, the deceased?”
“Well, yes.” Mr. Masters got up to pour himself a mug
of coffee, and returned to his place by the table. “You see, this hotel is on my regular route. I try to call on all the funeral directors in the northeast Texas area at least twice a year, and I make it a point to be in Quincy by nightfall because Miss Mary Ann takes such good care of me.” He smiled at Miss Mary Ann, who blushed.
“Well,” the sheriff said, looking at the historical society members, “I assume you folks don’t know much, seeing as how you got here just before we did. Does anyone have anything to add? Anything you might know about the deceased?”
Brian spoke up. “Her name is Annabeth. Stop calling her the deceased!”
The sheriff ignored him. “Well?”
“She’s part of that Baugh family that lives out on the lake.” Hen Lester looked like she smelled something nasty.
“She was absolutely beautiful,” Alice LaRue said, “and a nice girl. Shame on you, Hen.”
Lucas Fitzgerald nodded, but didn’t say anything. Emily LaRue stared out the
The sheriff nodded and began questioning each person in the room starting with Brian.
I was glad that the doctor, who had come earlier to examine Annabeth’s body, had given him a sedative to calm him down. I could still hear his screams when they told him about the murder. Brian’s voice was flat as he told the sheriff about how he and Annabeth had come home from the dance around one o’clock. He had been hungry, so they had gone into the kitchen and raided the icebox, making cold chicken sandwiches and drinking tea. After they finished, he walked Annabeth to her room and then went to his own room and went to sleep. “I conked out right away,” he said, his voice breaking. “I wish I hadn’t drunk so much beer at the dance—I might have heard something.” He put his head down and started sobbing like a baby.
The sheriff turned to Miss Mary Ann. “How about you, ma’am?”
Miss Mary Ann looked at Brian with tears in her eyes. She shook herself and turned to the sheriff. “Oh, lordy, I don’t know if I can remember. Everything’s happened so fast.” She dabbed at her eyes with the Kleenex she was holding. “It’s all just so terrible. Let me think a minute. Um … well, Annabeth and Brian helped me with the dinner dishes for a little while, but I could see they were wanting to get out to the dance, so I sent them on off. After
I finished the kitchen, I went into my room to watch my shows on TV.” She got up and went over to where Brian was sitting. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he shook her off.
“Which room is yours?” The sheriff held up his hand. “Hold it a minute. Looks like Wiggs here’s run out of tape.” While the deputy replaced the tape in his recorder, the sheriff walked over to the coffee urn on the desk and filled a mug with coffee, and when he did, I noticed that he was holding his side like it hurt. “Anybody else?” His face was pale as he turned to face the room. Everybody shook their heads.
After the deputy had the tape running again, Miss Mary Ann continued. “It’s a suite, really, a bedroom and a little sitting room. It’s that door there.” She pointed to a door just past the bar. “It’s the only sleeping quarters on the first floor. All the guest rooms are upstairs.”
“So, you’re watching TV in your room. Hear anything?”
“Well, yes. You see, just as Eyewitness News out of Shreveport was starting, the bell on the door tinkled, and I went out to the lobby to see who had come in. It was Mr. Masters, here.” She pointed to the man in the suit. “He was supposed to check in before six, but he had car trouble.”
Mr. Lew Masters nodded. “That’s right, Sheriff. It was just shortly after ten. I was tired, so I went right up to my room and went to bed.”
“Did you know the young lady, the deceased?”
“Well, yes.” Mr. Masters got up to pour himself a mug
of coffee, and returned to his place by the table. “You see, this hotel is on my regular route. I try to call on all the funeral directors in the northeast Texas area at least twice a year, and I make it a point to be in Quincy by nightfall because Miss Mary Ann takes such good care of me.” He smiled at Miss Mary Ann, who blushed.
“Well,” the sheriff said, looking at the historical society members, “I assume you folks don’t know much, seeing as how you got here just before we did. Does anyone have anything to add? Anything you might know about the deceased?”
Brian spoke up. “Her name is Annabeth. Stop calling her the deceased!”
The sheriff ignored him. “Well?”
“She’s part of that Baugh family that lives out on the lake.” Hen Lester looked like she smelled something nasty.
“She was absolutely beautiful,” Alice LaRue said, “and a nice girl. Shame on you, Hen.”
Lucas Fitzgerald nodded, but didn’t say anything. Emily LaRue stared out the
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