No way out

Chapter Thirty

Lilly Chase led Roni and Quincy Carter into the morning room. Judging from her stiff posture and stern glare, she wasn’t pleased to be entertaining the police. Mindful of the power that beauty and age bestowed, she clasped her hands, commanding the room with a bank robber’s brass.

“Detective Carter,” she said, “my granddaughter only just now told me you are here to question her. I’ve told her not to talk to you without an attorney.”

“With all due respect, m’am, that’s up to her.”

“You’ve no right to harass her. She’s done nothing wrong. If she hadn’t shot Frank Crenshaw, I’d be wearing black, mourning my granddaughter.”

Carter nodded. “I got the word a couple of hours ago from the prosecuting attorney. She’s in the clear. He agrees with you and me that it was straight-up self-defense.”

“Good,” she said, as if checking that off her mental list of deal terms. “That leaves the second shooting, the one that killed Frank. Not that he didn’t deserve killing after what he did to Marie, but you can’t think Roni had anything to do with that.”

“I’m just here to ask her a few questions.”

“I know how the police do things. You ask questions, insinuate guilt, and badger people who are innocent into confessing to things they haven’t done and wouldn’t do. I won’t have that. Not in my house.”

“We’re just going to talk, ma’am. No bright lights or rubber hoses.”

She glared at Carter. “Detective, I’ve spent my life selling houses owned by people who didn’t know they were moving to people who didn’t know they were buying, so don’t try to sell me. I told Roni that she shouldn’t say another word to you without having a lawyer here to look after her. But you’d have thought I told her the moon was pink. And, you Jack, for some unknown reason, Roni thinks you’re better protection than any lawyer I could hire, though in my experience a man who works for free is rarely as committed as the man whose next meal depends on making the sale.”

A spasm squeezed me from the inside out, clenching my eyes, tugging my chin to my chest and pulling it up and past my left shoulder. I managed to keep my mouth shut but couldn’t smother the accompanying grunt. When the spasm passed and I opened my eyes, Lilly Chase was staring at me.

“When Roni told me you had a movement disorder I thought you had a bowel problem. Obviously, I was wrong.”

“Grandma!”

“It’s okay,” I said, catching my breath.

“Can’t you call it something else?” Lilly asked.

“Mostly, I call it a pain in the ass, but I don’t think that solves your problem.”

“He shakes sometimes. It’s no big deal,” Roni said.

Lilly smirked, undeterred. “That’s what the seller always says about the water in the basement until it turns out the house is floating on an underground spring. I always tell my sellers to make full disclosure of any defects in their property. Saves a lot of aggravation.”

She was pushing, but I didn’t blame her. I’d made it a practice to explain my condition, believing that the more people knew, the more at ease they would be.

“It’s called tics. It’s a lot like Tourette’s. It makes me shake, spasm, and stutter.”

“Can you control it?”

“Not much.”

Lilly crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me something, Jack. If you were me, would you entrust your granddaughter to a man with the shakes?”

“If it’s this man, I would,” Carter said. “I know Jack better than I’d like. Most of the time, he’s a pain in my butt. Still, if it were me, I’d want him on my side.”

“Careful, Detective,” Lilly said. “It’s very tricky to work both sides of a sale without screwing somebody.”

“Lilly,” I said. “I told Roni she should get a lawyer. She said she doesn’t want one because she hasn’t done anything wrong. But you’re right that these things can take a turn no one expects. If Roni wants a lawyer, all she has to do is say so. Detective Carter will wait, and I’ll go on my way.”

Lilly turned toward Roni, one eyebrow raised in an unspoken question.

“No sale, Grandma. I’ll be fine.”

Lilly stared at her, waiting for Roni to fold. When Roni didn’t, she dropped her arms to her side. “Well, let’s see what tomorrow brings.”

“Thank you, Lilly,” I said as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Don’t be so quick with gratitude, Jack, because if any harm comes to my granddaughter, you won’t be thanking me. Trust me on that.”