Pete shrugged. "Sure, nobody else drank it." The laugh came again. "I tried it once just to see. Tasted like brown water."

Frank pulled a tea bag out of the box. Each bag was wrapped and sealed in a paper envelope. He asked, "Was old Will working here yesterday?"

Pete seemed taken aback by the question. "Sure, he's worked lunch every day for the last fifty years. Comes in about eleven, leaves by two or so." He studied Jeffrey. "He does odd jobs for people around town after he leaves here. Mostly yard work, some light carpentry."

"He buses tables here?" Jeffrey asked, though he had eaten enough lunches in the diner to know what Will Harris did.

"Sure," Pete said. "Buses tables, mops the floors, takes people their food." He gave Jeffrey a curious look. "Why?"

"No reason." Jeffrey answered. Leaning over, he shook the man's hand, saying, "Thanks, Pete. We'll let you know if we need anything else."

Chapter Ten

LENA traced her finger along the street map in her lap. "Left here," she told Brad.

He did as he was told, steering the cruiser onto Baker Street. Brad was okay, but he tended to take people at face value, which is why back at the station when Lena said she had to go to the bathroom, then headed the exact opposite direction of the women's room, he hadn't said anything. A joke around the station house was to hide Brad's patrolman's hat from him. At Christmas, they had stuck it on top of one of the reindeer on display in front of city hall. A month ago, Lena had spotted the hat on top of the statue of Robert E. Lee in front of the high school.

Lena knew Jeffrey partnering her with Brad Stephens was his way of keeping her at the periphery of the investigation. If she had to guess, she would say that every man on their list was either dead or too old to stand up without help.

"The next right," she said, folding the map. She had sneaked into Marias office and looked up Will Harris's address in the phone book during her alleged trip to the bathroom. Jeffrey would interview Pete first. Lena wanted a crack at Will Harris before her chief could get to him.

"Right here," Lena said, indicating he could pull over. "You can stay here."

Brad slowed the car, putting his fingers to his mouth. "What's the address?"

"Four-thirty-one," she said, spotting the mailbox. She slipped off her seat belt and opened her door before the car came to a complete stop. She was walking up the driveway by the time Brad caught up with her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, trotting alongside her like a puppy. " Lena?"

She stopped, putting her hand in her pocket. "Listen, Brad, just go back to the car." She was two ranks above him. Technically, Brad was supposed to follow her orders. This thought seemed to cross his mind, but he shook his head no.

He said, "This is Will Harris's place, isn't it?"

Lena turned her back to him, continuing up the driveway.

Will Harris's house was small, probably little more than two rooms and a bath. The clapboard was painted bright white and the lawn was neatly tended. There was a well-tended look to the place that set Lena on edge. She could not think that the person who lived in this house could do such a thing to her sister.

Lena knocked on the screen door. She could hear a television inside, and distant movement. Through the screen mesh, she could see a man struggling to get out of his chair. He was wearing a white undershirt and white pajama pants. A puzzled expression was on his face.

Unlike most people who worked in town, Lena wasn't a regular at the diner. Somewhere in the back of her mind Lena had considered the diner Sibyl's territory and hadn't wanted to intrude. Lena had never really met Will Harris. She had been expecting someone younger. Someone more menacing. Will Harris was an old man.

When he finally reached the door and saw Lena, his lips parted in surprise. Neither spoke for a moment, then Will finally said, "You must be her sister."

Lena stared at the old man. She knew in her gut that Will Harris had not killed her sister, but there was still the possibility that he knew who had.

She said, "Yes, sir. Do you mind if I come in?"

The hinge on the screen door screeched as it opened. He stepped aside, holding the door open for Lena.

"You gotta excuse my appearance," he said, indicating his pajamas. "I wasn't exactly expecting visitors."

"That's okay," Lena offered, glancing around the small room. The living room and kitchen space were blended, a couch delineating the two. There was a square hallway off the left through which Lena could see a bathroom. She guessed the bedroom was on the other side of the wall. Like the outside of the house, everything was neat and tidy, well cared for despite its age. A television dominated the living room. Surrounding the set were wall-to-wall bookcases packed with videos.

"I like to watch a lot of movies," Will said.

Lena smiled. "Obviously."

"Mostly, I like the old black and white ones," the old man started, then turned his head toward the large picture window lining the front of the room. "Lord a'mighty," he mumbled. "I seem to be real popular today."

Lena suppressed a groan as Jeffrey Tolliver walked up the driveway. Either Brad had told on her or Pete Wayne had fingered Will.

"Morning, sir," Will said, opening the screen door for Jeffrey.

Jeffrey gave him a nod, then shot Lena the kind of look that made her palms sweat.

Will seemed to sense the tension in the room. "I can go in the back if you need."

Jeffrey turned to the old man and shook his hand. "No need, Will," he said. "I just need to ask you a few questions."

Will indicated the couch with a sweep of his hand. "Mind if I get me some more coffee?"

"No, sir," Jeffrey answered, walking past Lena toward the couch. He fixed her with the same hard look, but Lena sat beside him anyway.

Will shuffled back to his chair, groaning as he sat. His knees popped and he smiled apologetically, explaining, "Spend most of my days on my knees in the yard."

Jeffrey took out his notebook. Lena could almost feel the anger coming off of him. "Will, I've got to ask you some questions."

"Yes, sir?"

"You know what happened at the diner yesterday?"

Will placed his coffee cup down on a small side table. "That girl never hurt nobody," he said. "What was done to her-" He stopped, looking at Lena. "My heart goes out to you and your family, sweetheart. It really does."

Lena cleared her throat. "Thank you."

Jeffrey had obviously been expecting a different response from her. His look changed, but she couldn't make out what he was thinking. He turned back to Will. "You were at the diner until what time yesterday?"

"Oh, around one-thirty or a little before two, I think. I saw your sister," he told Lena, "just as I was leaving."

Jeffrey waited a few beats, then said, "You're sure about that?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Will returned. "I had to go pick up my auntie at the church. They get out of choir practice at two-fifteen sharp. She don't like to wait."

Lena asked, "Where does she sing?"

"The AME over in Madison," he answered. "You ever been there?"

She shook her head, doing the math in her head. Even if Will Harris had been a viable suspect, there was no way he could have killed Sibyl, then made it to Madison in time to pick up his aunt. A quick phone call would give Will Harris an airtight alibi.

"Will," Jeffrey began, "I hate to ask you about this, but my man Frank says there was some problem a while back."

Will's face dropped. He had been looking at Lena up until this point, but now he stared at the carpet. "Yes, sir, that's right." He looked over Jeffrey's shoulder as he spoke. "My wife, Eileen. I used to go at her something bad. I guess it was before your time we got into a scuffle. Maybe eighteen, nineteen years ago." He shrugged. "She left me after that. I guess I let the drink lead me down the wrong path, but I'm a good Christian man now. I don't go in for all that. I don't see my son much, but I see my daughter often as I can. She lives in Savannah now." His smile came back. "I got two grandbabies."