"I can't believe Jim Bob was responsible," Estelle said mulishly.

"We're still looking into it. No charges have been filed, but we'll keep him in custody for the time being. He can enter a plea with the judge come Monday morning."

Estelle squeezed my shoulder so tightly I winced. "Arly, you tell this man that he's crazy as a june bug. You and I both know Jim Bob ain't gonna win any blue ribbons for husband of the year, but he's not the sort to push women off balconies. Why, even if he was drunk when I ran into him last night, he wouldn't-"

"Drunk?" said Chief Sanderson. "What time would that have been?"

"I just saw him for a second, and he wasn't staggering or swaying or doing anything except being more than a might surprised to see me. His language was crude, but it most always is. You have no business accusing him of being drunk?"

"You brought it up, Miz Oppers," he said.

"I did not!" Estelle glanced at me, then stalked back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

I waited a moment, then said, "So Jim Bob's in custody. Are there any witnesses besides the jogger?"

"Cherri Lucinda's at the station, making a statement. Her story's pretty simple-she came back from the casino with Jim Bob, took a shower, and was drying her hair when he busted into the bathroom and told her about the crowd gathering around the body in the parking lot. Cherri Lucinda said it never crossed her mind that it was her friend down there."

"Where did she think Stormy was?" I asked.

Sanderson tugged on his nose. "With a man she'd picked up in the casino or in the bar. Japonica said they acted real stunned when she went to the room in hopes there'd be a way to make a preliminary identification of the body. The driver's license photo is good enough for the time being, and it may take a long while to track down a next-of-kin, assuming there is one. Cherri Lucinda, will be asked to make a more formal identification before the body's packed off to the state lab for an autopsy. I don't reckon there's much question about the cause of death, but we play by the book when we can."

"The ladies from Tuscaloosa are positive no one came out of any of the rooms?" I said. "Could the man have jumped onto another balcony?"

"Anyone tip his hat as he came through your room?"

"No, but what about the balcony on the other side?"

"Jim Bob's room? Why would he risk breaking his neck when all he had to do was return the way he came?" He paused in case I had a brilliant comeback, then added, "We're checking all the possibilities and we'll even make sure nobody saw a hang glider sail across the parking lot. After twenty-seven years, I've learned that the most obvious answer is usually the right one. People do stupid things. Maybe your mayor got drunk and lost a lot of money at the craps table. He was too ornery to back off when Stormy wouldn't cooperate. A good lawyer can bargain him down to manslaughter, even get him off with a plea of diminished responsibility. Back before the casinos opened, I could handle anything that came along. These days we've got gangs, drugs, carjackings, and armed robberies. Folks get mugged in the hotel elevators. Sometimes they get killed. Husbands blow their paychecks, then go home and butcher their families."

He stood up and gave me a grim smile. "The only prosperity gambling's brought to the Delta is measured in court fines."

"Do you need a statement from Estelle?" I asked. "I don't think there's anything useful she can tell you. She was asleep when I came in around three this morning. The sliding glass door was closed and the drapes drawn, so neither of us heard a scream. The sirens woke us up."

"She didn't have any suspicion that Jim Bob was staying just down the hall?"

I shook my head. "Not unless Cherri Lucinda let something drop, and it sounds as though she had no idea of Jim Bob's little scheme for the weekend. I thought I caught a glimpse of him in the casino, but it seemed so ludicrous that I blamed it on fatigue. I only found out my mother was in the hospital last night, and…" I swallowed several times, desperately struggling not to get teary. "Estelle was as preoccupied as I was. She doesn't know anything."

"Can't see as she would. I'm gonna have Japonica get statements from everybody on the tour, but she can come here so you all won't have to bother going down to the police department. Will you make yourselves available?"

I nodded, then let him out and closed the door. There were way too many things happening all at once, I thought, my mind spinning like the tumblers on a slot machine. Instead of cherries and oranges, I was seeing free-falling bodies, and hearing a cry of terror that ended with a most emphatic thud.

Oh, to be in Maggody, where nothing ever happened.

Kevin had dialed the telephone number of the police department so many times his fingertip was beginning to throb. Every darn time he'd gotten the answering machine and left a message pleading for Arly to come to the supermarket, but it was finally sinking in that she wasn't there-or if she was, she was ignoring him.

There was hardly any time left before his ma would go to his house to baby-sit, freeing Dahlia to disappear once more on one of her mysterious outings. Rather than going back into the main part of the store to stock the shelves, Kevin plopped down on the sofa in the lounge and stared blankly at his shoes. Where could she be going? Not shopping, since she never came back with anything more than a scowl. Her clinic appointments weren't more often than once a month. The doctor had suggested a support group for mothers of twins, but his beloved had turned up her nose at the idea of listening to snooty Farberville women discuss how to go about hiring a nanny. If all she was doing was going to a movie theater, why wouldn't she just 'fess up?

He picked at a scab on his arm as he tried to think where else she might go. It was like she drove into a long, dark tunnel and came out hours later. What happened inside the tunnel that left her meaner than a polecat in heat?

He dug out the last of the change in his pocket and found thirty-five cents. Even though it meant he couldn't buy a soda pop later in the afternoon, he put the coins into the pay phone and called his house. He'd expected to hear Dahlia's sweet voice, so he was dumbstruck for a moment when his ma answered the phone.

"This is me, Ma. Is Dahlia there?"

"She just this second drove off. I practically got down on my knees and begged her to tell me where she was going, but all she said was to put ointment on Kevvie Junior's bottom when I changed his diaper. I don't understand it, Kevin. She is the mother of two-"

Kevin hung up the receiver and rubbed his eyes so ferociously he could see red and yellow splotches. His groan of despair seemed to fill the room like a particularly pungent fart. He was too late. She was gone again. All he could do was pray that she'd return. One of these days she wouldn't, and he'd have no idea where to even search for her. He took his wallet out of his pocket and gazed sadly at the photograph of Kevvie Junior and Rose Marie. Without their ma, their hearts would shrivel up like raisins.

Unless he could follow her.

Idalupino's handbag was on the shelf in the bathroom. Keeping his ears peeled, he took it down and dug through wadded tissues and empty cigarette packs until he found a key ring. He'd seen her drive up earlier in the day and park next to the Dumpster in the spot reserved for Jim Bob. She was up front, working one of the registers and telling everybody how she was the acting manager. There weren't no reason for her to come looking for him unless somebody dropped a bottle of ammonia or sent the apples rolling out of the produce display. That didn't seem likely, since business always slowed down, in the early afternoon.