Blind Side
Page 62
“Let me ask another question first,” Sherlock said. “Was Eleanor McCamy Ward just really well off or was she rich?”
“We could check the probate records, but everyone knows she was worth quite a bit at her death, say, maybe around five million. So, yes, I’d say she was rich.”
“And Sooner McCamy inherited everything?”
Katie nodded, sighed. “I wasn’t living here at the time, but I remember thinking that her death was awfully convenient for Sooner. But of course, no one could prove anything. You guys met him. He certainly looks the role of the stern country preacher, doesn’t he? Dark, brooding, his eyes boring right into your soul.”
“You wonder how much of it is for real,” Miles said, then rose and went off to check the kids. He returned in a moment.
Katie said, “I suppose Sooner could have killed his aunt.”
“Yes,” Savich said, nodding as he sipped Minna’s delicious Darjeeling tea. “But a push down the stairs was taking a chance. It doesn’t guarantee a broken neck. If Sooner did kill her, then he probably saw the opportunity and took it without thinking it through.”
Katie said, “You’re right. It’s not at all a sure thing, she could have come out of it with a sprained ankle.”
“You know,” Sherlock said after her last bite of apple pie, “I think I’m in need of some more local religion. Katie, do the Sinful Children of God meet during the week?”
“Oh yes,” Katie said. “But not on Tuesdays, that’s their day off.”
Savich said thoughtfully, “I think a better idea is for me and Sherlock to take the kids and go visit Reverend and Mrs. McCamy. You’ll know I’ll be looking real close to see his reaction to Sam. And I want to know if Sam’s ever seen him before. Do you guys think that’s a good idea?”
Minna frowned. “If Reverend McCamy is somehow involved in Sam’s kidnapping, is it wise to stick Sam right under his nose?”
Sherlock thought about that for a moment, then said, “Absolutely nothing will happen to Sam with Dillon and me with him, that I can promise you, or else we wouldn’t even consider taking him over there. Just seeing how Reverend McCamy reacts when confronted with Sam, well, that could give us lots of information.”
Miles said, “Minna, these two are the best, don’t worry. I’m not. On the other hand, I just might hide right outside the front door, a big stick in my hand.”
Katie was grinning as she said, “I agree that just maybe something will pop. After all, Beau and Clancy are no longer in the picture. If the McCamys are involved, they’ve not had time to recruit more out-of-work criminals.”
Late Tuesday morning, Savich and Sherlock, with both Keely and Sam in hand, knocked on the McCamys’ front door.
“Who lives here, Uncle Dillon?”
“Two very interesting people I think you kids might like meeting.”
“I’d rather watch cartoons,” Keely said and laced her fingers with Sam’s.
Sherlock said, “We’re going to have lunch with your mom, Keely, and your dad, Sam. So that means you need to hang out with me and Uncle Dillon for a while, okay? I doubt any cartoons will be playing in this house, so you’ll have to be patient.”
“She means she doesn’t want us to whine,” Keely told Sam, who nodded, then asked, “Where’s my dad?”
“He had some calls to make, you know, Conrad Evans at the plant. He said he needed you guys out of his hair for a while.”
“He always says that,” Sam said, “but then he says he can’t wait to see me again.”
Savich smiled. “That, Sam, is what’s known as a parent’s curse.”
Elsbeth McCamy came to the door after another minute had passed. She stared at the two agents, then she stared at the children.
“May we speak to you, Mrs. McCamy?” Sherlock said. “Forgive us for bringing the children, but we were the only two free adults.”
“Yes, of course. Do come in. Reverend McCamy,” she called out, “two FBI agents are here and they’ve brought children.”
It really was very old-fashioned of her to call her husband Reverend McCamy, Savich thought. But Elsbeth McCamy didn’t look the least bit old-fashioned in her tight low-slung jeans and white tube top that left three inches of bare belly showing. She was wearing a belly button ring, a delicate circle of gold. And her Jesus earrings were shining bright in the morning light pouring through the front windows.
Reverend Sooner McCamy was wearing his patented black pants, a white shirt, and a black jacket. When he came out of his study down the hall, he looked harassed. “Elsbeth, I’m ministering to Mr. and Mrs. Coombs.”
“We could check the probate records, but everyone knows she was worth quite a bit at her death, say, maybe around five million. So, yes, I’d say she was rich.”
“And Sooner McCamy inherited everything?”
Katie nodded, sighed. “I wasn’t living here at the time, but I remember thinking that her death was awfully convenient for Sooner. But of course, no one could prove anything. You guys met him. He certainly looks the role of the stern country preacher, doesn’t he? Dark, brooding, his eyes boring right into your soul.”
“You wonder how much of it is for real,” Miles said, then rose and went off to check the kids. He returned in a moment.
Katie said, “I suppose Sooner could have killed his aunt.”
“Yes,” Savich said, nodding as he sipped Minna’s delicious Darjeeling tea. “But a push down the stairs was taking a chance. It doesn’t guarantee a broken neck. If Sooner did kill her, then he probably saw the opportunity and took it without thinking it through.”
Katie said, “You’re right. It’s not at all a sure thing, she could have come out of it with a sprained ankle.”
“You know,” Sherlock said after her last bite of apple pie, “I think I’m in need of some more local religion. Katie, do the Sinful Children of God meet during the week?”
“Oh yes,” Katie said. “But not on Tuesdays, that’s their day off.”
Savich said thoughtfully, “I think a better idea is for me and Sherlock to take the kids and go visit Reverend and Mrs. McCamy. You’ll know I’ll be looking real close to see his reaction to Sam. And I want to know if Sam’s ever seen him before. Do you guys think that’s a good idea?”
Minna frowned. “If Reverend McCamy is somehow involved in Sam’s kidnapping, is it wise to stick Sam right under his nose?”
Sherlock thought about that for a moment, then said, “Absolutely nothing will happen to Sam with Dillon and me with him, that I can promise you, or else we wouldn’t even consider taking him over there. Just seeing how Reverend McCamy reacts when confronted with Sam, well, that could give us lots of information.”
Miles said, “Minna, these two are the best, don’t worry. I’m not. On the other hand, I just might hide right outside the front door, a big stick in my hand.”
Katie was grinning as she said, “I agree that just maybe something will pop. After all, Beau and Clancy are no longer in the picture. If the McCamys are involved, they’ve not had time to recruit more out-of-work criminals.”
Late Tuesday morning, Savich and Sherlock, with both Keely and Sam in hand, knocked on the McCamys’ front door.
“Who lives here, Uncle Dillon?”
“Two very interesting people I think you kids might like meeting.”
“I’d rather watch cartoons,” Keely said and laced her fingers with Sam’s.
Sherlock said, “We’re going to have lunch with your mom, Keely, and your dad, Sam. So that means you need to hang out with me and Uncle Dillon for a while, okay? I doubt any cartoons will be playing in this house, so you’ll have to be patient.”
“She means she doesn’t want us to whine,” Keely told Sam, who nodded, then asked, “Where’s my dad?”
“He had some calls to make, you know, Conrad Evans at the plant. He said he needed you guys out of his hair for a while.”
“He always says that,” Sam said, “but then he says he can’t wait to see me again.”
Savich smiled. “That, Sam, is what’s known as a parent’s curse.”
Elsbeth McCamy came to the door after another minute had passed. She stared at the two agents, then she stared at the children.
“May we speak to you, Mrs. McCamy?” Sherlock said. “Forgive us for bringing the children, but we were the only two free adults.”
“Yes, of course. Do come in. Reverend McCamy,” she called out, “two FBI agents are here and they’ve brought children.”
It really was very old-fashioned of her to call her husband Reverend McCamy, Savich thought. But Elsbeth McCamy didn’t look the least bit old-fashioned in her tight low-slung jeans and white tube top that left three inches of bare belly showing. She was wearing a belly button ring, a delicate circle of gold. And her Jesus earrings were shining bright in the morning light pouring through the front windows.
Reverend Sooner McCamy was wearing his patented black pants, a white shirt, and a black jacket. When he came out of his study down the hall, he looked harassed. “Elsbeth, I’m ministering to Mr. and Mrs. Coombs.”
