He picked up the cellular phone, flipped it open, and called Carl Beshears.
Carl drove out without lights or sirens, at Webb's request. He didn't even bring a deputy with him.
"Keep it quiet," Webb had said.
"The fewer people who know about this, the better."
Now Carl walked around the car, looking at every detail.
Chapter 16
"Damn, Webb," he finally said.
"Someone's got a real hardon for you."
"Tough. I'm not in the mood to get fucked." Carl cast a quick look at Webb. There was a cold, dangerous look on his face, an expression that boded ill for anyone who crossed him. Everyone knew Webb Tallant had a temper, but this wasn't temper: this was something else, something deliberate and ruthless.
"Got any ideas?" he asked.
"You've been back in town what a week and a half? You're making enemies real fast, serious ones.
"I think it s the same man who broke into the house," Webb said, "Interesting theory." Carl thought about it, stroking his jaw.
"So you don't think it was just a burglar?"
"Not now, I don't. Nothing has happened at Davencourt for the past ten years, until I came home."
Carl grunted, and stroked his jaw some more as he studied Webb.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I didn't kill Jessie," Webb growled.
"That means some283
one else did, someone who was in our rooms. Normally, I would have been there. I never did go in for the late-night bar scene, and I didn't fool around with other women. Maybe Jessie surprised him, the way Roanna did. Roanna met up with him in the front hall; mine and Jessie's rooms were on the front left side, remember? Corliss has the rooms now, I sleep in a bedroom on the back, But the so-called burglar wouldn't have known that, would he?"
Carl whistled softly between his teeth.
"That would make you the intended victim all along, which means this is the third attempt to kill you. I tend to believe you, son, mainly because there wasn't a reason for you to kill Miss Jessie. That's what had us so buffaloed ten years ago. Whoever did it must have thought it was real funny, you being blamed for killing her. That would be better than killing you himself. Now, who hated you enough to try to kill you ten years ago, and stay mad this long?"
"Damn if I know," Webb said softly. For years he'd thought Jessie's secret lover must have killed her, but with these new developments that didn't make sense. It would have made sense for the murderer to try to kill him, but not for him to kill Jessie. It would even have been reasonable, if he wanted to think of murder as reasonable, for the two of them to plot to kill him. That would get him out of the way, and Jessie would have inherited more of the Davenport fortune. If she had simply divorced him, her inheritance wouldn't have been as much, because despite Jessie's threats she had to have known that Lucinda wouldn't have disinherited him just because they'd divorced. To her credit, he didn't think Jessie had been involved in a plot to murder him. Like Roanna, she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but for Jessie the bad timing had been fatal.
Carl took a length of string from his pocket and tied one end of it around a pen. "Come hold this windshield up as straight as you can," he said, and Webb complied. Carl passed the free end of the string through the first bullet hole, threading it through until the pen caught on the outside and held. Then he tied the other end around another pen, this time securing the string under the pen's clip, and passed that pen through the holes in the back of the headrest.
He looked at the trajectory and whistled softly again.
"At the distance he was shooting from, if he'd adjusted his sights just a teeny bit to the right, that bullet would have caught you smack between the eyes."
"I noticed it was a fine shot," Webb said sarcastically. Carl grinned.
"Thought you might be a man who appreciated good marksmanship. How about the second bullet?"
"It went on through the trunk."
"Well, any good deer rifle would shoot a bullet with that much power over that distance. No way of tracing it, even if we could have found one of the slugs." He eyed Webb.
"You took a chance, stopping here like this."
"I was mad."
"Yeah, well, if there's a next time, cool off before you decide to go after someone who's armed. I'll have the car towed in, and my boys will go over it, but I don't think we'll find anything that will help us."
"In that case, I'd just as soon no one else knows about this. I'll take care of the car."
"Mind telling me why you want to keep it quiet?"
"Number one, I don't want him on guard. If he's relaxed, maybe he'll make a mistake. Number two, you can't do a whole hell of a lot anyway. You can't give me an escort everywhere I go, and you can't keep a twenty-four-hour watch on Davencourt. Number three, if Lucinda finds out, it just might kill her."
Carl grunted.
"Webb, your folks need to know to be careful."
"They do. The so-called burglar spooked them. We have new deadbolt locks now, more secure windows, and we're wired to an alarm that, if it goes off, will set every dog inside a thirty-mile radius to howling. it's not any secret in Tuscumbia that we've done this, either."
"So you think he knows, and isn't likely to try getting into the house again?"
"He's gotten in twice before without any trouble. Instead of trying it again, this time he tried to shoot me off the road. Sounds as if he heard the news."
Carl crossed his arms and stared at him.
"Miss Lucinda's big party is tonight."