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  “You really thought that would make a difference?” Phin said.

  “Well, it seemed like a smart thing to do,” Davy said.

  “Generally speaking, if you want something from somebody, it’s best to give him something, not beat him at his own game. I just didn’t realize who I was dealing with. Now I do.” He nodded at Phin. “It was a damn good game, Harvard. Thank you.”

  Phin looked back at the table. “Yeah, it was. But I’m still not marrying your sister.”

  “Why?” Davy said, and Phin blinked at him. “You have a great time with her, the sex is obviously terrific, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s kind, she’s a wonderful mother, your kid’s crazy about her, and she loves you.” He shook his head. “I don’t see why you’re fighting this. You can’t say no to her anyway, or you’d have stopped coming out to the farm by now.”

  “You can go now,” Phin said, annoyed.

  “That would be best,” Davy said. “I think my work is done anyway.”

  “And what work would that be?” Phin said as he followed him to lock the door behind him.

  “I broke your concentration,” Davy said. “Sophie was already in your head, you just weren’t paying attention. Now she’ll be there all the time.”

  “Don’t come back,” Phin said, and Davy laughed and went down the steps to the street.

  Phin turned off the lights in the store and headed for the stairs to his apartment. He was late to meet... Sophie. His steps slowed as he realized the rhythm he’d fallen into. Close the store, go out to the farm, kiss Sophie, and end the day. No wonder Davy thought he was the marrying kind. He was practically mere already.

  Well, the hell with that. Tonight he was staying home. Maybe Wes would want to play a little pool.

  Oh, right, Wes would be dealing with the murder.

  He picked up his car keys and went out into the rain to the police station, a little rattled that the murder wasn’t the most pressing thing on his mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Ed got the autopsy done,” Wes said from behind his desk when Phin came into his office. He didn’t sound happy. “There’s water in the lungs and it’s river water, but Zane didn’t drown.”

  Phin dropped into the chair across from him. “So what killed him?”

  Wes tossed the report onto his desk. “Heart attack.”

  Phin leaned back. “That a joke?”

  “No.” Wes poked the folder with his finger. “It’s in there. Necrosis in the heart muscle. Ed says his heart was a mess and probably had been most of his life.”

  “He had blackouts,” Phin said. “Clea talked about them. She thought he did it for attention.”

  “He did it for oxygen,” Wes said.

  “So it’s not murder?” Phin shook his head. “That can’t be. A lot of people took a poke at this guy before he died. One of them must be responsible.”

  “Ed said to wait for the forensic report on Monday, but none of the attacks would have been enough to kill him, and we can’t prove that any of them triggered the coronary, so we’ll have a hell of a time getting a murder conviction.” Wes’s jaw was tight and he looked madder than Phin had ever seen him. “Which doesn’t mean I’m not going to go after assault convictions, even though I have no clear motive, no weapon, and —oh, yeah— no fucking crime scene.”

  “He wasn’t killed at the Tavern.”

  “No,” Wes said. “That’s the good news. We’ve narrowed down our options. He was killed somewhere in southern Ohio, but not behind the Tavern.”

  “You may be taking this too hard,” Phin said. “Davy said Zane was heading out the back door. And Ed said he’d been in the river. Did you look at the dock at the farm?”

  “What a great idea,” Wes said flatly.

  “Okay,” Phin said. “If you’re going to be surly, I’m going to leave.”

  “I checked the farm dock, the Garvey dock, your dock, and Hildy’s dock, everything within walking distance given that Zane was drunk, and all points in between. Sent some samples to Cincinnati, but I’m not hopeful.”

  “My dock?” Phin said. “I don’t— Oh, Junie’s dock. I don’t think Junie killed him, Wes.”

  “I think he went in on that side of the river,” Wes said. “That would be consistent with the scrapes and cuts, if he fell off the high bank and through the brush. The bank on the farm side is just mud.”

  “So he went out the back door and took the Old Bridge to the other side?” Phin shrugged. “Easy enough, but why?”

  “That’s according to Davy,” Wes said. “I don’t think the truth is anything Davy Dempsey holds sacred.”

  “The only thing Davy holds sacred is his sisters,” Phin said.

  “Yeah,” Wes said, and waited.

  “Sophie was with me from nine at the Tavern to about ten forty-five.”

  “Pete ran over him a little after eleven-thirty,” Wes said. “That gives her forty-five minutes, but it doesn’t give her a motive. I ran a background check on everybody I could think of, which, by the way, solved our earlier mystery of why Stephen lied on that damn accident report. Virginia’s been picked up for reckless op several times in Cincinnati. Evidently traffic in the city makes her nervous.”

  “Lot of points?”

  “She’d have lost her license,” Wes said. “So Stephen took the heat and tried to bully the Dempseys.”

  “Had he but known,” Phin said. “Wrong family to bully. Why wasn’t Stephen driving?”

  “Don’t know,” Wes said. “I got the police report back on the Dempseys, too. Davy has a record.”

  “Since Zane wasn’t defrauded to death, I think Davy’s still in the clear.”

  “So you knew.” Wes picked up a pack of cigarettes from the mess of papers on his desk and shook one out.

  “I knew he was on the con,” Phin said. “That didn’t seem relevant.”

  “Anything is relevant,” Wes lit the cigarette and inhaled. “As you damn well know. Amy has a juvie record which is, of course, sealed. But the cop I talked to in Cincy remembered her well. And then, just for the hell of it, I checked Dad, too. The guy has a record you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Temptation has a ‘no smoking in public offices’ ordinance,” Phin said. “And you kicked the habit two years ago.”

  “You got a real genius for the obvious,” Wes said.

  “So how do you feel about Amy’s juvie career?”

  Wes frowned. “Really turned on.”

  Phin nodded. “I’d have taken it that way, too. Still, falling for a bent woman is no reason to give yourself lung cancer. And since the Dempseys aren’t violent—”

  “If the Dempseys were being blackmailed, they could turn that way.” Wes took a drag on the cigarette and then exhaled on a deeply-felt sigh. “I used to think the Tuckers were crazed about family, but you guys can’t hold a candle to those three out at the farm. I think Zane was blackmailing people, and they’d have been prime candidates.”

  “He tried with me,” Phin said. “He wasn’t too bright.”

  “What every town needs,” Wes said. “A stupid blackmailer. I think he went after Frank, too. He was in today. He does not look good.”

  “Well, he’s married to Georgia, who was fucking Zane,” Phin said. “Although, evidently not very well. You know, if Georgia could have killed Zane at the Tavern last night, she would have.”

  “And, of course, there’s always Clea,” Wes said. “She’s capable of damn near anything, and so far I haven’t found that bank book everybody was talking about that she wanted so much and that I’m sure Davy was interested in, too. I’m going to Cincy tomorrow to look at Zane’s apartment, talk to the people at his work, but if that book’s not there, I’m going to have strong suspicions about Clea Whipple and Davy Dempsey.” He took another hit on the cigarette and added, “Zane talked to your mom, too. Yesterday afternoon, right after your pool game.”

  “And we know this because...?”

  “Because that’s what Frank came i