grid's absence. Max won Annie's heart anew when he returned with coffee and a biscuit with sausage for her. The coffee was acceptable, although not, of course, on a par with that at Death on Demand or at the Darling house on Scarlet King Lagoon.
He also brought in a file marked "Courtney Kimball." Annie took the thick manila folder and looked at him in surprise.
"Barb's terrific. I called, and she brought it over on the first ferry. Said to tell you to relax, she'd take care of everything at the store and get some chicken soup to Ingrid, too. Now"—he was brisk and organized—"I want you to dive into that file. Maybe you can find something I missed."
Annie put the folder down. "What about you?"
"I'm going to get some answers out of the Chastain cops. Whether they like it or not."
As the door closed behind him, Annie almost called out. But Max would surely be careful. The chief was a tough antagonist. She took the file and her coffee and settled in the chair. The file contained:
The Tarrant Family History
Guide to the Tarrant Museum
Copies of several newspaper stories on the deaths of the Honorable Augustus Tarrant and his youngest son, Ross, on May 9, 1970.
Photographs of Ross Tarrant's grave and of the urn containing the ashes of Judge Tarrant.
A photograph of Tarrant House.
A monograph on Tarrant House.
Photographs of Judge Tarrant and Ross Tarrant.
A list of persons likely to have been in Tarrant House on May 9, 1970.
Annie started with the photographs.
Judge Augustus Tarrant, in his black judicial robe, looked sternly down from the bench. His was an aloof, ascetic face, somber gray eyes, a high-bridged nose, hollow cheeks, a
pointed chin, firm, pale lips pressed tightly together. There was no vestige of warmth in his gaze.
Annie would not have wished to be charged with a crime in Judge Tarrant's court.
This was a formal studio portrait.
There were almost a dozen newspaper photographs. Annie particularly studied two of them. One showed a smiling Judge Tarrant—it could have been a different man—handing a trophy to a teenage girl. The congratulatory smile softened that stern face. The caption reported: Judge Augustus Tarrant presents the Class of 1969 valedictorian, Serena Michaels, with the National Honor Society trophy. In the second photograph, Judge Tarrant, unspeaking, head high, was pictured brushing through a crowd of reporters and photographers on the courthouse steps. The caption reported: Judge Augustus Tarrant declined to comment as he left the courthouse after giving the maximum sentence possible to David Wister Marton, a longtime friend and former state representative convicted of bribery. In a nonjury trial. Marton was judged guilty of accepting money from the Lumont Construction Company in return for achieving passage of legislation favorable to the company.
So the Judge was not a good old boy.
Good for the Judge.
Tough shit for Marton.
The photographs of Ross Tarrant were much more appealing. Annie studied the lively freckled face—a blond cowlick, merry blue eyes, an infectious grin—and realized her own lips had curved in response.
She thumbed through a sheaf of photographs: Ross astride a chestnut jumper at a horse show with a group of girls waving and calling to him; Ross, one of five sunburned happy faces on a tip-tilted catamaran just beyond the surf; Ross with his arms around two pretty girls, one dark, one fair, both laughing up at him; Ross in tennis shorts and shirt standing on a scuffed clay court, holding his racquet like a rifle. In a formal studio portrait, Ross wore full cadet regalia and stared straight into the camera. But wasn't there just the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth and a dancing light in his blue eyes? Over the years and the gulf that could not becrossed, she felt a sense of loss that she'd never known him. She would have liked him.
Annie replaced the photographs and picked up the copies of the news stories from the Chastain Courier.
Prominent Family Loses Father,
Son in Double Tragedy
The Honorable Augustus Tarrant, 63, suffered a fatal heart attack Saturday after learning of the death of his youngest son, Ross, 21, in an apparent shooting accident.
Harmon Brevard, Ross's grandfather, found the body of The Citadel senior at the family hunting lodge on Deer Creek in late afternoon. After calling authorities, Brevard went to the family home, the well-known Tarrant House, to inform the family.
Judge Tarrant collapsed upon hearing the news. The family physician, Dr. Paul Rutledge, was immediately summoned, but the jurist died before he could be hospitalized.
Funeral arrangements have not yet been announced.
The father and son were members of one of Chastain's oldest and most influential families. Tarrants have played prominent roles in Chastain
and in the history of South Carolina since Mortimer Tarrant arrived in Chastain in 1735. Family members have led efforts to preserve historic sites in and around Chastain.
Judge Tarrant was the son of Nathaniel Robert Tarrant and Rachel Wallace Tarrant. He was born in 1907. A 1928 graduate of The Citadel, he received his law degree from the University of Virginia. In 1937, he married Amanda Brevard of Chastain. Judge Tarrant served in the Circuit Solicitor's office from 1931 to 1936. He joined his father's firm, Tarrant & Tarrant, in 1937 and practiced there until the outbreak of World War II. Judge Tarrant served in the infantry during the War, rising to the rank of lieutenant colonel. He returned to private practice until he became a circuit judge in 1950.
Ross Tarrant was born Jan. 3, 1949. An outstanding stu‑
dent at Chastain's Wellston School, he was an honor student at The Citadel and would have been graduated this spring.
Judge Tarrant is survived by his wife, Amanda, and two sons, Milam and his wife, Julia, and Whitney and his wife, Charlotte.
Annie sighed. What heartbreak. Two in a family lost the same day. Poor Amanda Tarrant. Her husband and youngest son dead with no warning, no preparation.
Tragic, yes. But what in that family tragedy prompted a young woman to hire a private detective twenty-two years later? (Annie called a spade as she saw it. She didn't have to pretend about Max's occupation, no matter how Max avoided the appellation of private detective.) Why did Courtney Kimball hire Max? Who was Courtney, and why did she care about the deaths of Judge Tarrant and his youngest son?
Annie carefully reread the article, then skimmed the other news stories and the formal obituaries. The facts remained the same. The only additional information concerned funeral arrangements.
She studied the newspaper photograph from the May 12, 1970, Chastain Courier. The mourners wore black. They stood beneath umbrellas in a slanting rain among a gray and cheerless sea of tombstones. A veiled woman leaned heavily on the arm of a young man.
The caption read: The family of Judge Augustus Tarrant and Ross Tarrant bade them farewell Monday at graveside rites in St. Michael's Cemetery. The judge's widow, Amanda, walks with her oldest son, Milam. Also pictured are Mrs. Milam Tarrant, Mr. and Mrs. Whitney Tarrant, and Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Brevard.
Annie concentrated. Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Brevard? Oh, of course—Amanda's parents, grandparents of Ross, Whitney, and Milam.
The veil hid what must have been the grief-ravaged face of Amanda Tarrant. Her son Milam had the stolid look of a man enduring great pain. His wife's face was white and pinched. Whitney Tarrant frowned, the kind of frown a man makes to hold back tears. His wife, Charlotte, pressed a hand againsther mouth. Harmon Brevard stared grimly at an open grave site. His wife touched a handkerchief to her eyes.