as I told you before, they went out socially together some, but it wasn’t a serious relationship by any means.” She paused, recalling how Angelina seemed to cling to Dylan as hard as she could. “Well, it might’ve been for Angelina, but Dylan never got serious in any relationship.” Ava tilted her head. “Do y’all now think the murders are related?” Were they finally realizing Dylan had nothing to do with Angelina’s death? His death had to have them scrambling for answers. Unraveling their loosely knit theory.
Dylan was dead. Correction, murdered.
“We’re just looking at any and all possible connections.”
“But she was found dead in the swamp, and Dylan was shot in the back. Do you think they’re related?”
Sheriff Reed fingered the edge of his notebook with calloused hands.
“Angelina was shot in the back, too, wasn’t she?” She refused to give in to the urge to glare at him. No wonder they’d searched the mansion when they’d convinced themselves Dylan had killed Angelina. But they would’ve never found a gun—there wasn’t a firearm in the house. Not since her father had died and all his hunting shotguns had been destroyed.
“We didn’t make the details of her death public for investigative reasons.”
Because they had suspected Dylan. “But was she shot in the back just like my brother?”
“Ma’am, can you think of any reason someone would want your brother and Angelina dead?”
Answering a question with another a question confirmed it—Dylan and Angelina were both shot in the back. Evil had arrived in Loomis. “My brother, no. And trust me, I’ve thought of every possible scenario. A lot of people didn’t like Dylan, but I can’t think of anyone who hated him enough to kill him.”
“Maybe a bad business deal?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not exactly in the family business. But neither Dylan nor Mother mentioned anything serious going on at the company.” The thought struck her again that it was high time she did know what went on behind closed doors at the Renault Corporation.
“Would they have?”
“Of course.” Ava paused as Bea entered the library with a silver service that she set on the iron-and-glass coffee table.
After the maid had poured and been dismissed, Ava settled her cup in its saucer and stared at the sheriff. “You know my mother’s ruthless reputation…she isn’t any different at home. If there’d been a business transaction that hadn’t gone well, she’d delight in calling Dylan on the carpet every opportunity she could. We all shared dinner every night, except when I had a wedding or Dylan had a date.” Because Ava sure hadn’t had a meaningful date in longer than she could remember.
Max’s image floated across her mind.
“I see. Was that often? That Dylan had a date, I mean?”
Ava shook her head, banishing Max from her thoughts. “An occasional date during the week and most weekends. Is this really necessary?”
“The more we know, the better we can work the case.”
Because now they were looking for a link between the murders. Perfectly logical, but the loss was still too new for the memories not to hurt. Ava took a sip of her coffee and waited.
The sheriff took a noisy sip from his own cup. The china rattled as he replaced it on the saucer. “There aren’t many young, single women in Loomis your brother didn’t date. And some who weren’t single.”
Ava folded her hands in her lap. “Not that I see any relevance in this discussion, but Dylan enjoyed being around women. He liked women, pretty much all women. I didn’t know that was illegal, or a reason to be a murder suspect.”
“I mean no disrespect, you understand, but I have to do my job. I have others breathing down my neck…”
“Like the FBI?” No disrespect? He sure wasn’t singing that tune when they’d questioned Dylan relentlessly after Angelina’s body had been found floating in the bayou close to Renault Hall. “I understand, Sheriff, I do, but if you’re trying to link Dylan’s dating a lot and not being serious about any one woman to a reason he would murder or be murdered, I believe you’re looking in the wrong direction.”
“Where should I be looking, Ms. Renault?”
“I haven’t a clue. I’m not in law enforcement, Sheriff Reed.” She hated the snippiness that had crept into her tone but couldn’t help it. The whole discussion bothered her, rubbing her fresh wounds raw.
He cleared his throat. “What about Angelina Loring?”
“I didn’t know her well enough to give supposition.”
“But your brother dated her, off and on, for some time.”
Great. Make her feel more like a heel of a sister. “I didn’t invest a lot of time in anyone Dylan dated. If he got serious, he would’ve told me and I’d have taken the time to get to know the person.”
“I see.” No, he didn’t, but what more could she say?
“What about him dating someone else with red hair? Aside from Angelina?”
“I wasn’t Dylan’s social secretary.”
“Can you think of anyone he mentioned going out with who had red hair?”
Why was he hung up on red hair? “Sheriff Reed, is there something I should know?”
He reviewed his notes, refusing to look at her. “We found a long, red hair on your brother’s clothes and are trying to see how it could have logically gotten there.”
That was new. “I haven’t a clue.”
He nodded. “I know the FBI already asked you about Leah Farley.”
She shifted, crossing her legs at the ankles. “Yes. Do you think there might be a connection there? That hardly seems likely. Leah hadn’t worked for my brother in more than three years.”
“But evidence now suggests there might be a link between your brother and Mrs. Farley.”
“Because of his last words, right?”
“Yes. Do you have any idea what they could mean?”
“As I told you before, Sheriff, I have no idea what Dylan was trying to relay with his final words. No idea whatsoever.” She only wished she had an answer.
“But Mrs. Farley most likely wouldn’t have liked whatever explanation there is for his words, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t say.” Wait a minute. Were they now going back to the theory that Leah had killed Earl, Angelina, and now Dylan? Actually…now that she thought about it, Leah did have a connection to all three of them. A very strong connection.
“I see.” He stood, pocketing his notebook. “So you wouldn’t have any personal knowledge about Mrs. Farley looking into real estate prior to her disappearance?”
“Just what I’ve heard about town.” Now where was he going?
“Or anything about a connection between Earl Farley and Georgia Duffy?”
“No.” Grasping at straws, that’s what he was doing. Although, rumor had it that Georgia and Leah’s husband, Earl, might’ve had something interesting going on. Still, Ava knew firsthand how rumors were often untrue.
“Heard anything about Mrs. Farley firing Ms. Duffy as her real estate agent?”
“Sure, the town was talking about it, but I don’t believe gossip, Sheriff.”
He let out a harrumph. “I think those are all my questions for now.” He passed her his business card. “If you think of anything else, even if it merely strikes you as odd, call me.