Where Is Henderson? (Sam Darling mystery #5) by Jerilyn Dufresne

stuff in the warehouse after he left us. The plant was closed on Friday because it was Henderson Day, but he wanted to clean up the place so it would be nice and clean for Monday.” She dabbed her eyes. “He was a very neat boy.”
    “So he left the diner when?”
    “Was it about 8:00, darling?” This from Joan, the first endearment we’d heard between the two. Frankly, to me it sounded rehearsed, as if it was a word without meaning.
    “Yeah, I guess,” the mayor responded. “I had an 8:30 meeting and was early for it.”
    George continued with basic questions and Clancy stayed with Joan while I looked at both Hendersons. If I had to be judgmental (and I did) I thought Joan Henderson looked like a typical rich first wife—aging along with her husband, but obviously fighting against the aging process. Right now it looked like she was winning the battle, but age was rounding the corner and catching up. She looked good, but still was probably in her early to late 50s, since her son Cash was 32. It was so hard to estimate people’s ages when they had a good plastic surgeon. She had on what looked like a cashmere suit, not that I was an expert on cashmere. It had fur around the collar. All she needed was a pillbox hat to be emulating Jackie Kennedy. Except for her hair. In what I guessed was a further effort to look younger she had blonde spikes all over her head, in stark contrast to her suit and her position.
    The term “stark contrast” fit her husband also, especially when you looked at the two together. He looked like Humpty Dumpty in an expensive suit. As round as he was tall, Mayor Caleb Henderson didn’t seem to be making an effort to fight aging at all. In fact, he appeared to have surrendered. There were a few wisps of gray hair left on his head and they were unruly, shooting out in every direction, just like his eyebrows.
    I was brought back to the conversation at hand when I heard George say, “Sam, can you think of anything I might have left out?”
    At my quizzical look, he said, “Anything I didn’t ask that you think is important?”
    “No. I think you covered it all.” I hoped I was right.
    With a promise that he’d stay in touch, George took my arm and escorted me from the mayor’s office all the way down the steps of City Hall, and I pulled an unwilling Clancy.
    “You were daydreaming, weren’t you?”
    “I prefer to think of it as problem-solving,” I said.
    “When did you tune out?”
    “I remember the mayor saying he made his 8:30 meeting. Anything important after that?”
    He looked at his notes. “When I asked if Cash had any enemies they were both quick to say no, but I don’t quite believe them.”
    “Why?”
    “They were both antsy and kept looking at each other. I think if we question them separately we might get a different answer.”
    We. He said “we.”
    “Sure. Let’s do that,” I said, afraid he’d change his mind. “Anything else?”
    “Apparently, the business is doing well. The mayor hasn’t been involved in hands on operation since he was elected. His younger brother, Jonah, runs it until Cash gets trained. Or at least, that was the plan, until…”
    “Until he got murdered,” I said. “Now what’s the plan for the business?”
    “I asked the question. Joan didn’t really know, but Caleb said that after they died it would probably go to his younger brother, since Cash was their only child.”
    “Interesting.” I turned to my canine friend, “Clancy, quit pulling. We’re walking back to the B&B. You did a good job with Joan, but you can’t stay with her.”
    I took George’s hand since I thought he wouldn’t resist a small public display of affection. Even though he was on the job, we were in a strange city, so he might be okay with it. I was right. “Have you thought any more about the urns we saw on the train car?” I asked.
    “Not really. Pull up the pictures for me, will you?”
    I let go of his hand long enough to get the phone out of