Claws For Concern

Bill Delaney’s alibi just went up in flames.

TWENTY-NINE

Either way you looked at it, I decided, Bill Delaney had no alibi. That is, of course, if the murders occurred between ten and midnight. I realized that we were ignorant of one of the most important facts in the case. What time were the Barbers killed?

“Can we keep these?” Jack brandished the two pages.

Ronnie Cooper shrugged. “Sure, I don’t think there’s anything I don’t want anyone to know.”

“You might be questioned about them again by official investigators,” Jack said. “At some point Charlie and I will have to share what we’ve found out with them.”

“No problem,” Ronnie said. “Now, if that’s all, I’d like to get back to work.” He looked at me and Jack.

“I can’t think of anything else at the moment,” I said.

“Neither can I. Thanks for your help. This is an amazing find,” Jack said. “I can’t believe no one knew about this before.”

“Nobody ever asked,” Ronnie said. “I never thought about it myself.” He rubbed Diesel’s head. I marveled that my cat had remained near Ronnie the entire time. Ronnie rose from his chair.

“Hang on a sec,” Jack said. “Sorry, I just thought of something. You wrote these things in your notebook as if it was Bill Delaney driving the car that night. Did you actually see him in the car?”

“It had to be,” Mrs. Cooper said. “Sylvia couldn’t see well enough at night to drive. She was scared to death to even try.”

Ronnie shot an exasperated glance at his mother. “I can answer for myself, Mom. Yes, it was Bill Delaney. My bed was right under the window back then, and I looked out right after Puck woke me up. Both times. There’s a streetlight nearby, and there was enough light for me to see him at the wheel of the car.”

“Thanks for clarifying that,” Jack said.

“And thank you, Mrs. Cooper, for telling us about Sylvia Delaney’s problem with driving at night,” I added. “All this information is a great help.”

“I’m going back to work,” Ronnie said. “You know where to find me if you have any more questions.” He left the room, and his mother gazed fondly after him.

“He’s such a hard worker,” she said. “Puts in I don’t know how many hours every day. Between going to the gym and work, he doesn’t have time for much else.” She sighed. “I don’t reckon I’ll ever be a grandmother unless that computer of his can have a baby.”

I smothered a laugh at the thought. Mrs. Cooper seemed genuinely serious, but there was nothing I could offer to comfort her, other than a platitude. Jack seemed at a loss for words, too. Really, I thought, how could you follow up a statement like that?

“Can you think of anyone that Betty Barber might have been close enough to that she would have confided in them about what was going on at home?” Jack asked.

Mrs. Cooper shook her head. “Not that I can think of, other than maybe one of her neighbors. I’d say you might try their church, but I think Hiram got angry with the preacher, and they stopped going.”

“Do you have any idea why he was angry with the preacher?” I asked. Could there be a clue in that? I wondered.

“Probably because Hiram wasn’t tithing the way he should, and the preacher probably complained.” Mrs. Cooper rolled her eyes. “Hiram always put on like he was so poor he couldn’t even pay attention. He sure didn’t spend money on his wife and kids. He wouldn’t hardly pay his hands much, either. I don’t know how he kept anybody working on the farm. Anyway, he had enough money to pay his share to the church. He was too cheap to do it.”

This was consistent with what we’d already heard about Hiram Barber. I wondered if he had always been so obsessed with money or had something happened to trigger this behavior?

Jack rose from the sofa and tucked his notebook in his jacket pocket. “Mrs. Cooper, thank you so much for talking with us this morning. You’ve been a great help.”

“Yes, you certainly have.” I rose, too, and Diesel returned to my side. I picked up the end of the leash, and he rubbed against my leg.

“Well, I guess I’m happy I could help,” Mrs. Cooper said. “Seems like Ronnie was more help than I was, but either way, I’m glad. You’re welcome to come back anytime.” She stood and walked toward the door. “I was able to retire thanks to Ronnie, so I’m at home most of the time nowadays.”

After a few more comments about how happy she was to help and how welcome we were to come back, we were able to get away from Mrs. Cooper and head to the car.

“Good grief, that woman can talk,” Jack said when we were seated inside with the air conditioner blasting. “And thank goodness she did. Ronnie, too.”

“Yes, thanks to Ronnie we know that Bill Delaney was out of the house for two hours that night,” I said. “What we don’t know, of course, is when the murders took place. We really need to find that out.”

Jack frowned. “According to the information released to the press, Elizabeth Barber came home from her friend’s house—Leann Finch’s house—around seven the next morning. That’s when she found the bodies. They could have been dead twelve hours or more by then, of course.”