“She was still a kid,” Gertie said. “One who’d lost her father and had a mother who’d basically thrown her to the wolves for her own gain. I imagine there were all manner of threats involved if she talked. There usually are.”
I sighed. “I know you’re right, but it still hacks me off.”
“The real question is does this information change our stance on Tiffany as a suspect?” Ida Belle said.
I shook my head. “If anything, it makes it worse.”
“How do you figure?” Gertie asked. “All we got was confirmation of our suspicions about why she married Gil.”
“There’s that part where Tiffany was a rodeo girl,” I said. “Which meant she potentially had the skill to handle Shadow.”
Ida Belle nodded. “You’re right. And since Liam was close with Tiffany and hung out with the same crowd, I imagine he spent a decent amount of time around horses as well.”
“So the two of them could have done this,” Gertie said. “But why?”
“That’s the question,” I said.
“That’s been the question since this started,” Ida Belle said.
“Are we still going to spy on Tiffany?” Gertie asked.
I glanced at my watch. It was approaching eleven but we didn’t need to head for New Orleans for hours.
“Might as well since there’s nothing else on our list,” I said. “Unless you think the funeral home director will tell us how he lost a body.”
Ida Belle laughed. “Last night, I heard from one of the Sinful Ladies who had a connection on that end that the director almost had a heart attack over the whole thing. They had to call the paramedics, who gave him a shot to calm him down. The back door looked like it had been jimmied with a crowbar. But since he’s always been too cheap to install a security system, that’s all they know.”
“Guess he’ll be coughing up the money now,” I said. “People aren’t likely to use his service if they can’t be guaranteed they’ll have a body for the viewing.”
“That definitely wouldn’t fit into an advertising campaign,” Gertie said.
I nodded. “I noticed Gil’s house backed up to the woods. Do you guys know a way around so we can spy from the back? I want to get close enough to use the microphone but we can’t park anywhere near on the street because Casey might be there already or be coming back. And lurking in peoples’ bushes is ill advised in a place like Sinful.”
Ida Belle nodded. “About fifty yards away is a service road that the utility company uses. Poachers are known to frequent it as well but that’s at night. I can pull off where there’s a clearing and park. We’re not likely to run into anyone.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Then let’s go get the equipment and head out.”
We loaded up and headed for the site Ida Belle had mentioned. As explained, it was a narrow, mostly grass-and-dirt road that ran through the woods. She found a small area cleared of trees and pulled the SUV off the road.
“Looks like we’re not the first to park here,” I said, motioning to a set of fairly recent tracks.
“Probably poachers,” she said. “There’s some good deer in these woods, but no hunting allowed, even in season. Protected land and all.”
I nodded but walked up to get a closer look at the tracks. Something wasn’t completely right about them. On closer inspection, I realized that the larger set of tracks had another laid within it, then separated where the vehicle would have turned around and headed out of the woods.
“Someone had a trailer in here,” I said. “Do poachers use trailers?”
Ida Belle frowned. “Not usually. They only take what they can carry out, so it’s not like they’d need a trailer for the haul.”
I walked forward more to an area just past the tracks that was clear of grass and knelt down.
“This is horse prints,” I said.
Ida Belle and Gertie came up beside me and peered down.
“Sure is, and recent too,” Ida Belle said.
“You think this is where the killer unloaded Shadow?” Gertie asked.
“The park is only a hundred yards or so through the woods,” Ida Belle said. “And where you’d come out is the direction Shadow came from. So it’s definitely a possibility, and a good one, really. Especially since everyone knows that no one really uses the road except the utility company and poachers.”
“Then it’s possible someone saw the vehicle,” I said.
Gertie shook her head. “Wouldn’t matter if they did. If poachers saw another vehicle already here, they would turn around and head to another spot. And even if they knew the make, model, and the license plate number, they’ll never tell the cops.”
“Because they’d have to explain why they were here,” I said and sighed.
Ida Belle walked ahead of us a ways and pointed. “There’s a fairly wide trail here headed in the direction of the park.”
“Big enough for a horse?” I asked.
She nodded. “Plenty big enough.” She bent over, frowning, and came up with a handful of shrubbery. “It’s been cut and it’s recent.”
“Someone cleared a path,” I said. “So this definitely wasn’t some last-minute rush of crazy. This was planned.”
Gertie shook her head. “This keeps looking worse for Tiffany. I’m sure she knows about this road. It’s practically in her backyard.”
“Then let’s go see if we can get anything from her,” I said.
“The house should be straight through the woods that direction,” Ida Belle said, and pointed.
We headed back to the SUV and I grabbed the parabolic microphone. Ida Belle took care of the electronics suitcase. Gertie already had her purse so we didn’t ask her to help with anything else. And we weren’t about to ask what was in the purse, either. Some things were better left unknown, but still, I was sorta hoping she had some snacks. I’d forgotten to grab some at home and my breakfast was burning off fast.
We headed into the woods, following Ida Belle’s lead. I had a good idea where the house was in relation to where we’d parked but until I had as many years tromping through Sinful as Ida Belle did, it was more efficient to put her in front. Then Gertie was in the middle and I was rear. That way Ida Belle and I were covering front and back and Gertie was, well…Gertie. This way I could see if she got into trouble and immediately respond versus if she was behind me and my reaction delayed.
It didn’t take long to get to the tree line behind Gil’s house—or I guess I should start referring to it as Tiffany’s house—and we located an old log behind a large bush and sat on it while we unpacked. We got everything set up and then I stuck the microphone in the bush and directed it at the kitchen window.
“Interesting that Gil didn’t fence his backyard,” I said.
The neighbors on each side of the cul-de-sac had fences that bordered his property so that just left it wide open in the back. I mean, I didn’t have a fence either, but I left mine open for the view of the bayou. Gil’s view was just a bunch of trees and brush.
“He was probably too cheap to do it,” Gertie said. “He didn’t like to spend money on much besides himself.”