Dead Ringer

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s sad, but people gotta live somewhere.” Michelle shrugged.

“Actually, I’m looking for someone who used to live around here, a family who used to own one of the horse farms nearby. It stood where the development is now, Hunt Country Estates. This would be about two years ago.”

“I don’t know.” The cashier shook her head, setting her ponytail swinging. “I’ve only worked here a few months.”

“Damn.” Be

“They do, and grain, but we’re not feed or hay dealers. We sell tack, bridles and saddles, and gift items like books, mugs, and computer games.” The young woman gestured helpfully at a shelf behind Be

“Well, do you have records of customers, or mailing lists I can look at? I know the family’s address, but not their name.”

“No, I think any mailing lists are all packed up, if the owner even kept them. He’s retiring, and our lease is up in two weeks, then we’re outta here. The mailing lists wouldn’t have helped anyway, they were only in order of names. If you didn’t know their name, you’d have to look through every entry.”

“I’ve done dumber things,” Be

“Maybe Janet would know. She’s worked here forever.” Michelle gestured behind Be

Be

“Hi, I’m Janet, and sure, I knew the Rices,” the woman answered, and Be

“The Rices? They lived on Owen Road? They had a horse farm?”

“Of course, Peg Rice came in here all the time. A very active horsewoman, even at her-our-age. She hunted regularly with her son. They even hunted in Ireland, with the Galway Blazers.” Janet thought a minute. “Yes, they had a thoroughbred and an old paint pony, Buddy. Cute, and a good little mover. The pony was her daughter’s. She was a pony clubber.”

She clubbed ponies? Be

“And Peg’s husband had the Apps. Four Apps.”

Forget the Apps, Be

“Ocala, Florida.”

“Great! Then it would be no trouble to find them.”

“Not at all, I have their address. We just sent Peg a new bridle she’d ordered for Sewanee. He’s in between a horse and a cob and it makes her crazy.”

Be

“Bill?”

“Yes, Bill Winslow!” Be

“Sure, he used to come in here all the time, to pick up orders for Peg. A quiet man. I don’t think he ever said two words to anyone.”

“That’s him, all right,” Be

“A bookish man, too.” Janet was gesturing at the wall of books behind her. “In fact, most of the books behind you belonged to Bill, the used ones. We’re trying to sell them.”

“They’re his?” Be

“They’re yours for a song,” Janet said. “Most of them are his, I believe. Were his. Peg donated them to us after Bill died.”

Be

“I’m sorry,” Janet said quickly. Her hooded eyes searched Be

Be

“Did you know Bill well?” Janet asked.

Not really. He was only my father. Be

“Well, Bill did keep very much to himself. He was taciturn.” Janet and the young cashier exchanged tense looks. “Would you like a glass of water?”

Be

“Bill worked for the Rices for decades, tending the grounds.”

Maybe they have the wrong man. Be

“Yes, that’s him. We saw quite a bit of him. He worked for them for a long, long time.”

“But he took some time off, not too long ago, right?” When Alice had been arrested for murder, their father had come to Philly to tell Alice about Be

“Yes, he did disappear for a while. Said he was taking some time off. Peg was quite concerned. When he returned to work, he wasn’t the same.”

“How so?” Be

“He seemed tired the times he came in here. Thi

Be

“Good, I’ll let them know.” Janet folded the slip and slid it into her back pocket, then checked her watch. The movement set the keys jingling on her ring. “Now, if you don’t mind, we really should be closing. Will you be okay?”