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her was the big guy in the wife-beater shirt, the guy Mom had attacked with her purse. He was holding Ina while she sobbed. Seeing that Mom and Renee appeared cool and collected, at least for the moment, I scooted over to Ina, curious about her comforter. He had ruthlessly outbid her for a locker earlier and now was providing a shoulder to cry on.
    â€œIna, how are you doing?” I asked as I approached.
    She pulled away from the man and sniffled. “How do you think I’m doing?” she snapped. “My husband is dead.”
    The man looked me over, his face not nearly as hard as his overall appearance. I placed him in his early forties. When he held out a hand to me in introduction, I took it. “Name’s Clarence Goodwin, but everyone calls me Buck. I’m a colleague of Tom and Ina’s—and their friend.”
    â€œOdelia Grey. I’m married to one of Ina’s cousins.”
    Buck gave me a small smile of recognition. “That would be the guy in the wheelchair, right? Ina’s told me a lot about him.”
    I nodded. It didn’t surprise me that Ina had mentioned Greg. In spite of her gruff exterior, I knew she adored him. That was also the reason Greg was jumping in to help her. He considered Ina a wayward younger sister more than a second cousin.
    I turned to face Ina. “In fact, that was Greg on the phone. He’s on his way here.” She looked up with surprise, so I explained. “One of us will take Renee and my mother home, and one of us will stay with you. Greg’s also finding an attorney to help you through the questioning. Or do you have your own lawyer?”
    â€œI don’t need a damn lawyer,” Ina hissed through her tears. “I didn’t kill Tom!”
    â€œI’m sure you didn’t,” I told her. “But it’s best to have an attorney present during questioning like this. As the spouse, you’ll be scrutinized.”
    â€œShe’s right, Ina,” Buck added. “Cops can twist your words all around if you don’t have a good mouthpiece.”
    Ina took a deep breath, and the three of us looked back in the direction of the locker, which, thankfully, we could not see from where we stood.
    â€œHave they questioned you?” I asked.
    Ina didn’t respond, but Buck did. “I don’t think they’ve done anything except take her statement of what happened just now, like they’re doing to all of us.”
    â€œThey might take her to the station for her questioning.” I looked at Ina again. Her heavy eye makeup was dripping like melting licorice. “Do you have an attorney you can call?” I asked again. Ina shook her head.
    â€œGreg and I know several attorneys. We’ll find someone to help you.”
    â€œBut I can’t afford an attorney,” she whined.
    â€œDon’t worry about that right now,” I said. “We’ll deal with that later.”
    I looked around at the people being questioned and those waiting to be questioned. “What happened to Linda McIntyre?” Even though I knew she’d disappeared shortly after Tom was discovered, there was always the possibility she hadn’t gone far.
    Buck surveyed the parking lot just beyond the front gate. “Her SUV’s gone,” he reported. “It was parked right next to my truck. She drives a red Chevy Tahoe.” He pointed toward a silver Ford pickup. The space next to it was empty.
    I checked out the parking lot, looking for a red SUV. Nothing. “The police are going to want to talk to her for sure.”
    â€œWhy?” whined Ina. “Can’t I even be a widow without her coming between me and Tom?”
    It was Buck who answered her. “For starters, the police will want to talk to Linda because she was here when Tom was found. And considering her personal relationship with him, she could be a suspect.”
    The last part of his comment struck a chord with Ina.