Surest Poison, The by Chester D. Campbell Page B

like.” She rubbed her brow with a wrinkled hand. “I didn’t know anybody up
there. They never came around here.”
    He gave her what he hoped was a
comforting smile. “Well, I appreciate your talking to me, Mrs. Jeffords. You
can be certain I’ll do my best to find out who was responsible.”
    “I hope they burn in hell for what they
done to us.”
    She had the eyes of a wounded animal. Her
look of despair haunted him as he walked back to his truck. He always made a
point of keeping a neutral stance on cases he participated in. It didn’t
help to become too involved on an emotional level. But this interview left
him troubled.
    His next stop was a doublewide with a
clutter of balls, ragged dolls, and various toys, including a battered
Etch-a-Sketch, in the grass out front. A young woman with tousled blonde
hair, toting a small girl in diapers on her hip, answered his knock. He
introduced himself and explained what he was doing in the area.
    “You talking about the stuff that came
from that plant up on the hill?” she asked.
    “Yes. Has anyone in your family suffered
any health problems from it?”
    “Look at this,” she said, holding the
baby out, turning it around to show her face.
    The little girl’s mouth twisted to one
side. Her left ear appeared only a gnarled stub. It was the child in the
picture Bailey had shown him.
    Sid looked down at her. “That shouldn’t
happen to a pretty little girl like you.” He glanced back at the mother with
a pained look. “How old is she?”
    “Almost two. Her daddy has headaches and gets real dizzy at times. He’s had to miss some
work.”
    “The chemicals causing the problem came
when a company named Auto Parts Rehabbers occupied the plant. They were
there until 1995. Did you live around here then?”
    “No. We’ve only been here about five
years.”
    After hearing similar stories and failing
to turn up any helpful information at several other houses, Sid gave up and
headed back to Nashville. The trip made him more determined than ever to
find who had caused the problem, but he was no closer to the answer than
when he’d left the office that morning.
      
     
     
    9
     
     
     
    Jaz’s office occupied a bookshelf-lined room her mother had called the library and her
father ma cachette , French for “my hiding place.” A framed photo of
Jaques LeMieux sat on one side of the cluttered desk, a similar picture of
his wife, Gwendolyn, on the other. Jaz had calmed down since accepting that
Sid’s comment about her Lexus was perfectly reasonable, not intended to make
her sound elitist. But coming after an accusation of acting uppity by one of
her old police colleagues, the remark had hit her like a slap in the face.
Sure, she liked nice things now that she could afford them, but that wasn’t
always the case. Her exposure to the humble life had lasted several years
after her mother effectively banished her from the family.
    She needed to get to work on Sid’s case.
Turning to the computer, she began checking her sources. She soon had a long
list of Deckers, more than 200 in Tennessee, but none with the name Tony or
Anthony. Of course, she reasoned, he could have moved out of state. Then she
had an idea. She ran a criminal check on the name and came up with a Tony
Decker from Memphis, who had served three years for armed robbery. He was
released from prison in 1989. At the Board of Probation and Parole, she
learned he had reported living in Ashland City in 1993. That put him on the
scene when Auto Parts Rehabbers was in business. He had been off probation
for more than ten years now, so they had no information on his current
whereabouts.
    She put in a call to a Memphis contact
and got assurance that background on Tony Decker would be available in a
matter of hours. Nothing got faster results than the promise of a bonus.
    Turning to Auto Parts Rehabbers, she
checked the Secretary of State’s office and soon found the