Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery by Charlotte Moore Page A

where I put my glasses?”
    Tall and scrawny, he blinked as he came into the living room.
    Taneesha was pretty sure he hadn’t changed clothes since the day before. He had just taken off the short-sleeved navy blue twill shirt with CC for Carson’s Cleaners embroidered on the pocket. He was barefoot, and his dark blonde hair was going in all directions.
    Rondelle found his glasses for him, and he wiped the lenses with his t-shirt before putting them on. Then he looked at the two of them and asked in a flat voice, “What have you found out?”
    “Not much, but we’ve got some questions we’ve got to ask all the next of kin,” Skeet said. “Are you up to talking with us a little while?”
    Russell nodded.
    “Yeah. Whatever.” He seemed indifferent. “I need something to eat. Can we do this in the kitchen?”
    Rondelle said. “I’m glad you’re hungry. There’s all kinds of good food in here. Let me just heat something up.”
    “When did you last see your wife?” Skeet asked when they were settled around the kitchen table.
    “Monday night about eight,” Russell said after a long pause. “She went into town to stay with her mother.”
    “She and her sister have been taking turns doing that when the woman who looks after their mother takes her time off.” Rondelle explained while she prepared a plate for him. “Mrs. Jackson had a bad stroke about six months ago. I saw her while she was at the hospital, and she might as well be in a nursing home for all she knows about anything, but they’ve made a big deal of keeping her at home.”
    “So you were here by yourself after she left?” Skeet asked Russell.
    “Yeah, by myself. I tried spending the night there with her the first time and sneezed all night. I never have been able to spend much time there, even when China and I were dating.”
    “Cats,” Rondell explained. “He’s allergic. I don’t know why they think it matters to poor old Mrs. Jackson whether they keep her cats or not. Like I said, it was a bad stroke. She can’t even recognize her own children, so why would she recognize a cat?”
    “I don’t even know why people have cats,” Russell said. “These cats have to stay inside all the time, and there’s this stuff called cat dander…”
    “Even if they got rid of the cats, the whole place would need a heavy duty vacuum,” Rondelle added.
    “What about yesterday morning?” Taneesha asked. “Did you go out to work?”
    “I didn’t have any jobs scheduled,” Russell said. “But there’s always work to do. I was up early working on one of the septic tank pumps, and I drove over to the landfill with some old carpeting.”
    “Did you talk to China at any time yesterday morning?”
    “You mean on the phone? No. I called her a little after seven just to say hello, but I didn’t get an answer. I guess she had already left for that stupid bicycle ride.”
    He gripped the arms of his chair.
    “I wish she hadn’t ever gone to that gym at all,” Russell said as he got up and paced around the room. His voice rose to a high pitch.
    “I wish she hadn’t ever set foot in that place. She was pretty just the way she was, but they had her thinking she just couldn’t get skinny enough. She was hardly eatin’ anything.”
    Tears were streaming down his face. Suddenly, he hit the kitchen wall with his fist so hard that a clock fell off the wall.
    “Easy there, buddy,” Skeet said, getting up. He put his arm around Russell’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go outside for a minute. Get some fresh air.”
    “I guess Skeet knows how Russell’s feeling,” Rondelle said to Taneesha when the two men were outdoors. “I mean with his wife getting killed, too. How’s he doing taking care of that little girl of theirs?”
    “He’s a good father,” Taneesha said, and didn’t add any more. She didn’t want to talk with Rondelle about Tamlyn Sykes Borders’ death. She wanted to think about how she was going to bring up the subject of China