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any strange men around Riverwood?”
    They answered in the negative and then the sheriff asked, “How about you, Miss Travis?”
    I shook my head. “Only these two very odd guys sitting here, they’re pretty strange.”
    My words pained him. “We’re looking for a man seen in this area. Likely our killer, so if you see him call me at once. I’ll leave Deputy Quinn in charge here. I’ll have to go tell April Donaldson, the woman who lived with Lucan.”
    The sheriff’s words brought back bad memories of Detective Styles coming into the Sunset and telling me that Jimmy was dead, not that I had believed Jimmy was dead. Reality didn’t sink in for days, and then the horror of what had happened to Jimmy, the horror of them only finding bits of him out in the mangroves, well, that nearly swamped me.
    â€œApril’s the only one that’s going to care that Lucan is dead,” the sheriff added. “Most everyone else will be relieved. Come to the office tomorrow and someone will take your statement.” He was done with me. He turned and jogged down the steps.
    Tully said, “He sure won’t miss Lucan from what I hear at the Gator Hole.”
    â€œWhy?” I asked. “What did he have against Lucan?”
    â€œLovey Sweet, Howie Sweet’s girl. She and Lucan had a history and now the sheriff fancies his chances with Lovey.”
    â€œAin’t hardly likely,” Uncle Ziggy put in. “No way, no how. A woman like that ain’t gonna to have no truck with a man like Hozen, nearly as old as me and no more honest than he needs to be from what I hear.”
    â€œZiggy loves Lovey,” Tully told me. “Covets her.”
    â€œYou’re just a man that naturally has evil thoughts, Tulsa Jenkins, always have, always will. You just don’t understand friendship between a man and a woman.” Tully snorted with laughter.
    I was too baffled by what was happening to join in this fun. “Seems to me the sheriff was expecting someone else when he looked into the bed of the truck — even hoping to see someone else there.”
    â€œI thought the same,” Tully agreed. “And why’s he asking about some stranger?”
    â€œMaybe he doesn’t think anyone in Independence would do such a thing.”
    I was still trying to wheedle a drink of something stronger than tea out of Tully when Howie Sweet showed up.

CHAPTER 9
    We watched Howie Sweet stop to talk to the sheriff. They seemed on very good terms, but then Howie was a long-term resident of the area, part of the old establishment.
    Howie shook his head, denying something. The sheriff patted him on the shoulder and hurried off, getting into his car and tearing out of the yard, nearly colliding with an ambulance coming in.
    â€œLittle too late for an ambulance, isn’t it?” Tully asked. Various other cars pulled into the yard. We watched as men got out and put on white suits over their clothes before they pulled on blue gloves and went to my pickup, carrying their cases. One man climbed up into the bed of the truck and knelt down. I looked away. I didn’t want to know.
    Howie turned away from the scene as well and climbed the stairs to join us on the front porch. He looked like a man who had lost someone near and dear to him, which was strange because Uncle Ziggy said Howie and Lucan Percell had a long, hate-filled history with Lovey Sweet as the source of their vendetta.
    Howie collapsed down into the wicker chair like a man whose bones had just given out. We all sat staring at him, waiting to hear what he made of the death of a man he hated.
    â€œLucan Percell?” he asked, as if he couldn’t quite believe it and needed it confirmed. “Seems to be,” said Tully.
    Leaning forward, with his hands hanging down between his knees, Howie stared straight ahead. Silent and shocked, there was no doubt this had hit him hard. Suddenly his eyes