game.”
Number four, now known as Bart Sullivan, sat watching the others playing the video game with the intensity of a coach watching his team vie for the tie-breaking point to end a championship game. When Tony and Wade failed to gain his attention in any traditional manner, Wade stepped in front of him to block his view.
“Ah, man, move over.” Sullivan craned his neck trying to peek around the deputy and see the screen. He finally glanced up, a sullen accusatory expression on his face. “What?”
“You know Miles Curry?”
“Yep.” Evidently satisfied by his level of cooperation, Sullivan wiggled around, trying for a different vantage point.
Tony blocked him. “You know what he was doing night before last?”
Sullivan looked up, meeting his eyes. “I know what he was talking about doing. He wanted to surf on the top of my pickup, stand on it while I drove him around.” Sullivan shook his head. “Crazy man. I said no way. I walked home, ’cause I only live, like, half a mile from here and I figured Mom wouldn’t give me my keys back.”
“If you didn’t allow him to surf on your truck, do you have any idea who else he might have called on to drive him around?”
“Naw, we ain’t close.” Sullivan squinted up at them, his gaze shifting back and forth between Wade and Tony. “Why don’t you just ask him? Save us all time.”
Convinced Sullivan was telling the truth, Tony said, “We think he did find someone who’d drive him. He ended up dead, and we’re looking for the driver.”
“No way.” Sullivan shook his head, actually ignoring the screen, focused on the situation at last. “Well, don’t that beat all.”
Tony shifted out of Sullivan’s line of sight. “Let me know if you hear anything, especially like who did drive?”
“Yessir, I will. I swear, I had no idea.” Sullivan watched the game in silence, shaking his head.
Tony returned to talk to Mom while Wade quietly talked to a couple of men waiting to play a car racing video game. Mom went through her entire collection of keys, giving him names and general observations about them. No one sounded like their person of interest.
Wade waved his notebook and led the way outside. “I have an address. A couple of the video-game players came up with the same name. David Logan.”
“Let’s go pay him a visit.” Tony felt more irritation than curiosity. It seemed like people had nothing better to do than try to kill themselves or others, and it was creating lots of work for him and his department.
Unfortunately, finding Logan wasn’t as easy as Tony had hoped. The address was a rooming house on the edge of town. The proprietor, one of Blossom’s myriad sisters, met them at the front door. Santhe, short for Chrysanthemum, Flowers was a landlady to be reckoned with. Large, like most of her sisters, but more muscular, she dyed her hair a flat black and pulled it into a tight ponytail. And not only did she have more hair than the other sisters, she had colorful tattoo sleeves on her arms. Both of them. Tony thought they resembled holiday hams packaged with labels of large tropical vegetation. Leaves, vines, and flowers complete with a lizard capturing an insect with its tongue covered them from wrist to shoulder. Santhe’s eyes spoke of irritation more than a willingness to help when she looked at him.
“Sheriff. Wade.” Santhe narrowed her eyes and rested her fists on her wide hips. “What do you want?”
“Have you got a renter by the name of David Logan?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Tony saw no sign of concern or curiosity on her face. He found her attitude pretty remarkable. The few people he’d encountered who didn’t openly wonder why he’d come to question them already knew the answer. He took a step closer. “Which is it?”
Santhe didn’t back down. “Why?”
“I don’t think that’s really any of your business.” Tony leaned closer. “Unless you’d care for an obstruction charge.” He was bluffing,