"Car parked right where we're parked now. See that half-fallen pine? Supported by two other trees? Makes a good marker to remember the spot by. Dell'd been missing less than four hours when one of the families that live out this way gave Sybil a call about the car. There were folks out searching soon after that, but like I say, it was another few hours before Dell was found. Right after that, it started raining, and it rained for hours. Wiped out the tracking scent, so the bloodhounds weren't any use."
"Why wasn't anyone looking for Teenie?"
"No one knew Teenie was with Dell. Her mom didn't realize Teenie was missing for almost twenty hours, maybe longer. She didn't know about Dell, and she delayed calling the police."
"How long ago was this?"
"Maybe six months ago."
Hmm. Something fishy, here. "How come we're just being called out now?"
"Because half the town thinks that Teenie was killed and buried by Dell, and then he committed suicide. It's making Sybil crazy. Teenie's mom's hard up. Even if she thought of calling you in, she couldn't afford you. Sybil decided to fund this, after she heard about you through Terry, who went to some mayor's conference and talked to the head honcho of some little town in the Arklatex." I glanced over at Tolliver. "El Dorado," he murmured, and I nodded after a second, remembering. Paul Edwards said, "Sybil can't stand the shame of the suspicion. She liked Teenie, no matter how wild the girl was. Sybil really assumed she'd be part of their family some day."
"No Mister Teague?" I asked. "She's a widow, right?"
"Yes, Sybil's a fairly recent widow. She's got a daughter, too, Mary Nell, who's seventeen."
"So why were Teenie and Dell out here?"
He shrugged, with a half smile. "That's a question no one ever asked; I mean, hell, seventeen, in the woods in spring... I guess we all thought it was a little obvious."
"But they parked up by the road." That was what was obvious, but apparently not to Paul Edwards. "Kids wanting to have sex, they're going to hide their car better than that. Small town kids know how easy it is to be caught out."
Edwards looked surprised, his lean dark face shutting down on sudden and unwelcome thoughts. "Not much traffic out on this road," he said, but without much conviction.
I put on my dark glasses. Edwards again looked at me askance. It was an overcast day. I nodded to Tolliver.
"Lay on, Macduff," Tolliver said, to Paul Edwards's confusion. Edwards's high school must have done Julius Caesar instead of Macbeth. Tolliver gestured to the woods, and Edwards, looking relieved to understand his mission, began to lead us downhill.
It was steep going. Tolliver stayed by my side, as he always did; I was abstracted, and he knew I might fall. It had happened before.
After twenty minutes of careful, slow, downhill hiking, made even trickier by the slippery leaves and pine needles blanketing the steep slope, we came to a large fallen oak piled with leaves, branches, and other detritus. It was easy to see that a heavy rainfall would sweep debris downslope, to lodge against the tree.
"This is where Dell was found," Paul Edwards said. He pointed to the downslope side of the fallen oak. I wasn't surprised it had taken two days to find Dell Teague's body, even in the spring; but I was startled at the location of the corpse. I was glad I'd put on the dark glasses.
"On that side of the log?" I asked, pointing to make sure I had it right.
"Yes," Edwards said.
"And he had a gun? It was by his body?"
"Well, no."
"But the theory was that he'd shot himself?"
"Yeah, that's what the sheriff's office said."
"Obvious problem there."
"The sheriff thought maybe the gun could've been grabbed by a hunter who didn't report what he found. Or maybe one of the guys who actually did find Dell lifted the gun. After all, guns are expensive and almost everyone here uses firearms of some kind." Edwards shrugged. "Or, if Dell shot himself on the upslope side of the log and fell over it, the gun could have slid down the hill quite a distance, gotten hidden like that."
"So the wounds—how many were there?"
"Two. One, a graze to the side of his head, was counted as a... sort of a first try. Then, through the eye."
"So the two wounds were counted as suicide wounds, one unsuccessful and one not, and no gun was found. And he was on the downslope side of the log."
"Yes, ma'am." The lawyer took off his hat, slapped it against his leg.
This was all wrong. Well, maybe... "How was he lying? What position?"
"What, you want me to show you?"
"Yes. Did you see him?"
"Yes, ma'am, I sure did. I came out to identify him. Didn't want his mom to see him like that. Sybil and I have been friends for years."
"Then just humor me by assuming the position Dell was in, okay?"
Edwards looked as if he wished he were elsewhere. He knelt on the ground, reluctance in every line of his body. He was facing the fallen tree. Putting out a hand to steady himself, he sank down to the ground. His legs were bent at the knees and he was on his right side.
Tolliver moved behind me. "This ain't right," he whispered in my ear.
I nodded agreement. "Okay, thanks," I said out loud. Paul Edwards scrambled to his feet.
"I don't see why you needed to see where Dell was, anyway," he said, trying his best not to sound accusatory. "We're looking for Teenie."
"What's her last name?" Not that it mattered for search purposes, but I'd forgotten; and it showed respect, to know the name.
"Teenie Hopkins. Monteen Hopkins."
I was still upslope of the fallen tree, and I began making my way to the right. It felt appropriate, and it was as good a way to begin as any.
"You might as well go back up to your SUV," I heard Tolliver telling our reluctant escort.
"You might need help," Edwards said.
"We do, I'll come get you."
I didn't worry about us getting lost. Tolliver's job was to prevent that, and he'd never failed me; except for once, in the desert, and I'd teased him about that for so long that he'd about gone crazy. Of course, since we'd nearly died, it was a lesson worth reinforcing.
It was best if I could walk with my eyes closed, but on this terrain that would be dangerous. The dark glasses helped, blocking out some of the color and life around me.
For the first thirty minutes of struggling across the steep slope, all I felt were the faint pings of ancient deaths. The world is sure full of dead people.
When I was convinced that no matter how stealthily he might be able to move, Paul Edwards could not have followed us, I paused at a rocky outcrop and took off my dark glasses. I looked at Tolliver.
"Bullshit," he said.
"No kidding."
"The gun's missing, but it's suicide? Shot twice, and it's suicide? I could swallow one of those, but not both. And anyone who's going to kill himself, he's going to sit on the log and think about it. He's not going to stand downhill of a landmark like that. Suicides go up." We'd had experience.
"Besides," I said, "he fell on the hand that would've been holding the gun. If by some weird chance that should have happened, I feel pretty confident that no one would be reaching under the corpse to steal the gun."
"Only someone with a cast-iron stomach."
"And through the eye! Have you ever heard of anyone shooting himself like that?"
Tolliver shook his head.
"Someone done killed that boy," he said. Some days Tolliver is more country than others.