Page 126 of Hello, Summer
“I’d have it with creamer and sugar if I were you,” he advised. “Otherwise, it’s like crankcase fluid.” He came back from the break room with two mugs of coffee, two paper plates, and a plastic knife. He served her a generous portion of cake, and they sat, sipping their coffees and enjoying the pound cake.
“Hard to find good pound cake these days,” Goggins said. “My mother-in-law makes a sour cream pound cake so good it’ll make you slap your mama.”
“Our housekeeper, Winnie, makes a good one,” Conley said. “She does a glaze with fresh-squeezed oranges.”
“Now tell the truth,” Goggins said, wiping his hands with a napkin and disposing of his plate. “What really brings you out here today?”
“Symmes Robinette,” she said promptly. “I’ve got questions. Has the medical examiner signed off on cause of death?”
“Like I told you, massive head injuries,” Goggins said.
“And yet I saw your deputy Poppell in town earlier this week. I know he went to Kelly’s Drugs to get a list of Robinette’s prescriptions, and then he went over to the body shop and took the driver’s-side mirror from the congressman’s Escalade.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than follow my deputy around?” Goggins sounded annoyed.
“Not really. This is a big story.” She reached into her backpack and brought out the latest edition of theBeaconand slid it across his desktop.
“Thanks, but I read the online version. It’s always interesting to read about rich white folks’ problems.”
“Wait ’til you see my next story,” Conley said. “I had a long conversation with Toddie Sanderson, the original Mrs. Robinette this morning. Seems like she’s much more willing to talk than the second Mrs. Robinette.”
Goggins clasped his hands behind his neck. “I guess she still feels like she’s the injured party. Even after all these years.”
“Have your deputies talked to Toddie?”
“They had a brief conversation, right after the accident,” Goggins said. “Did she tell you anything worth repeating?”
Conley smiled. “Is this the part where I tell you what I know and you tell me what you know?”
“No,” Goggins said. “It’s the part where I tell you that I can’t comment on an active investigation.”
She decided to try another tack. “I really did try to get into Sugar Key to speak to Vanessa Robinette before I came over here, and I noticed the video cameras at the entrance gate. Have you looked at the footage from the night of the crash?”
“Yes,” Goggins said.
“Do they show Symmes Robinette leaving? Was he alone?”
“Can’t comment on that,” Goggins said.
“Did you check out Vanessa’s claim that it wasn’t the first night Symmes got up and drove around in the middle of the night because he had ‘chemo brain’?”
“We check out all leads,” he said blandly.
“The reason I ask is that Toddie Sanderson told me her daughter met with Symmes, in secret, more than once in the weeks leading up to the crash. She claims he even came out to Oak Springs Farm to tell her he’d deeded it over to her.”
“Interesting,” Goggins said.
“What I think is interesting is that Charlie Robinette is the one who acted as the go-between for that meeting. His fiancée reached out first, then he called Toddie, alerting her about Symmes’s cancer diagnosis, even before Vanessa moved him back to Sugar Key, saying he thought his half siblings should know that their father’s prognosis wasn’t good.”
“Are you saying there’s something nefarious about the son’s wanting to help his father make peace with his kids?” Goggins asked.
“Charlie had never met Toddie or his half siblings. And Toddie said Vanessa eventually forbade Symmes to see his kids after their divorce.”
“Too damn bad. But you see a lot of that these days. What are you trying to get at here, Miss Hawkins?”
“Just drop the ‘miss,’ please. It’s Conley. And I’m still trying to understand what would have motivated Symmes Robinette to be driving around out here, this far from home, in the middle of the night. I don’t buy that it was random. Why Bronson County? I think he came out here again to go to Oak Springs Farm.”
“You’re entitled to your theories,” Goggins said, sipping his coffee.
