Death in the Secret Garden by Richard; Forrest

pattern.
    â€˜Pastor was with me through the night,’ Eliza Anderson said. ‘He read from the Book of Job and we prayed. Nothing more can be done.’
    â€˜Did you know that Boots was pregnant?’ Rocco asked with an abruptness that startled Lyon.
    â€˜She done told me. We decided not to tell her daddy until after the wedding. You saw what happened when he found out on his own.’
    Lyon was puzzled. It was not a secret in this small town that Eddy Rashish was very permanently married.
    â€˜Marriage?’ Rocco questioned.
    â€˜To Skee Rumford. They’ve been sweet on each other since the eighth grade.’
    â€˜Lister killed Eddy Rashish,’ Rocco pressed.
    â€˜Lister always did get things mixed up,’ Eliza Anderson replied. ‘Sometimes I think he didn’t listen none, or maybe he didn’t hear none. Anyway, he always got things wrong unless it was a piece of machinery that he could put his hands on.’
    â€˜Are you telling us that Eddy wasn’t the daddy?’ Rocco asked.
    â€˜Not saying that.’
    Rocco sighed. ‘What are you saying, Mrs. Anderson?’
    â€˜Boots was beddin’ them both.’
    â€˜She was involved with Eddy and Skee?’
    â€˜That’s what I’m saying. Boots always did like variety. She would kinda alternate them.’
    â€˜Then who was the daddy?’
    Eliza Anderson shrugged. ‘God knows,’ she finally replied as she looked at Rocco and Lyon. ‘Don’t matter none now, does it? And I wouldn’t pick one over tuther cuz I wouldn’t want Lister to think he shot the wrong man.’

Four
    The young man with the broom wore a baseball hat with the bill turned to the rear, a Grateful Dead tee shirt and bleached cut-off jeans. He made lame broom passes at the mass of broken windshield glass that littered the used-car lot. A black motor scooter leaned against the wall of the office trailer.
    Rocco parked the cruiser on the highway shoulder away from the car lot to avoid tire damage from the broken glass. He hitched his trousers and adjusted his long holster before he walked toward the sweeper. ‘Who’s the kid?’ he asked Lyon.
    â€˜I’ve seen him around, but don’t recall his name.’
    The lethargic sweeping slowed to a stop as the young man watched their approach with mild curiosity. ‘Lot’s closed,’ he announced.
    â€˜Who be you?’ Rocco asked softly.
    â€˜I work here.’
    â€˜That might be questionable,’ Rocco said, ‘since I watched your sweeping.’ Rocco’s authoritative manner slipped into place. ‘What’s your name?’
    The sweeper immediately detected the voice change. He reacted by imperceptibly straightening his posture and tightening the grip on the broom. ‘My name is Skee Rumford. I work here part-time.’
    â€˜Do you know that the owner is dead?’
    â€˜Yes, sir. Mrs. Rashish asked me to clean the place up. She wants to try and get a buyer after the windshields and tires are replaced. I told her I could replace the tires, but she’s got to get a glass guy to do the windshields. It’s going to cost her a friggin’ fortune.’
    Rocco walked through the lot and stopped occasionally to examine a shattered windshield. The sweeper followed behind him. ‘You’re a friend of Boots Anderson, aren’t you?’ Rocco said nonchalantly without looking directly at the young man.
    â€˜We were in high school together.’
    â€˜You know she was also killed yesterday?’
    â€˜I heard about it.’
    The voice was familiar. Lyon remembered last year’s high school class. Skee sat directly behind Boots and exchanged what they obviously considered meaningful glances. Lyon suspected that he was also the culprit who spouted off about the sex life of the Wobblies.
    Rocco turned away from his examination of Lister Anderson’s carnage. ‘Her murder got you off the