Page 145 of Long Gone

She seemed satisfied with the information and didn’t ask any of the expected questions—who’d killed him, where was his body, and how had he died. If I hadn’t known Skip Martin was the murderer, I would have been suspicious of her involvement, but as I pulled out of her driveway, the truth hit me.

Clarice hadn’t killed her husband, but when he hadn’t come home that night, she’d transferred the money herself. That was how she’d managed to stay afloat for five years. Now she was merely interested in getting the life insurance money. Once I’d assured her she would have the means to get it, everything else had become superfluous.

I called Anton next and arranged to meet him in my car outside of the clinic where he worked. He had a lot more questions—the ones I’d expected and a few I hadn’t, like why I had bruises on my face. I assured him that I’d tell him what I could, when I could, but I’d wanted him to know his father hadn’t abandoned him.

After I left Anton, I headed for the sheriff’s office, ready to give my statement about my car accident and also tell Detective Jones I’d found Hugo’s body exposed on his land.

Only when I got to the sheriff’s station and Detective Jones came out from the back, he looked exasperated and concerned at the same time.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t make our meeting last night.”

“Why didn’t you stick around to give your report about the accident?” he demanded.

“I had a slight concussion and obviously wasn’t thinking straight,” I said. “I’m here to give a statement now and to tell you I think I found Hugo’s grave.”

His lips pressed into a tight line. “A guy named Mike Anderson came to us early this morning and told us his friend Edward ‘Pinky’ Farrell confessed that he’d helped Skip Martin kill Hugo Burton, and he’d dug up Hugo’s grave to make sure he was there. Then he lured Martin out to an old, abandoned farmhouse and murdered his boss and then himself.”

I tried to act surprised by his news, especially since he was obviously gauging my reaction. “I must have made Pinky nervous asking all those questions around town.”

“You must have,” he said, and I wasn’t sure he entirely believed me.

“If he confessed this morning, that can’t be what you wanted to talk to me about last night,” I said.

He sobered at that and took my arm, leading me to the waiting room chairs. Once we were both seated, across from each other, he said, “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Harper, but yesterday we found your mother’s car submerged in the Red River up at the county line.”

A rushing sound filled my ears. “What?”

“I’m equally sorry to tell you that when we pulled her car from the river, her body was inside.”

I shook my head slowly. “No.”

He gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Harper, but your mother is dead.”

My world just turned upside down.