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they do good works, and hasn’t the weather been fine recently.”
    Barbara grinned. “And Louise Braniff has been with the university for twenty-some years, does volunteer work here and there, and has not a single blemish. Way it goes.” She stretched. “Well, I’ll read the material Bill gave me, have Bailey in in the morning to get him digging, and Carrie’s coming in at ten and we’ll go over all that stuff together. I want you to meet her, Shelley.”
    â€œWhen you’re done here drop by the house and I’ll give you some dinner,” Frank said, rising.
    â€œAnd I’ll get started with the Colberts,” Shelley added.
    After they left together, Barbara pulled her briefcase around and withdrew the folder Bill Spassero had handed her.
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    â€œOkay,” she said to Bailey the next morning. “That’s the basic story.” He was actually sitting upright with a notebook out, coffee at hand. He was dressed in chinos and a sport shirt open at the neck, with a lightweight jacket draped over his chair back. He carried the jacket, but never wore it. She suspected he believed it made him look respectable, and he was wrong. He would never look respectable. He looked like a bum who bought every stitch of clothing he owned at Goodwill.
    â€œApparently no one heard a gunshot. It was Wenzel’s gun. His only brother, Larry Wenzel, and Larry’s son, Luther, were at Bellingham from Saturday morning until they were notified on Sunday that Joe had been killed. The other son, Gregory, was home with his mother until about eleven, when he left to join friends who had been to a movie. He was with them until two, and left with a woman. They were together in her apartment about an hour or so. Time of death between twelve and two. Larry’s wife was home on the telephone talking to her daughter-in-law—Luther’s wife—and her daughter-in-law’s mother from about eleven until twenty minutes later, her car in a garage being serviced.” Bailey raised his eyebrows, and she added, “Larry had taken his car to the airport and left it there. Moving on, two different couples saw Joe and Carrie outside the motel.” She gave him their names. “One couple said Carrie was walking and he was tagging along toward the rear of the parking lot. The other two said she was at his open door, apparently talking to him, and she entered and closed the door.
    â€œThere’s a Web site for the company, but I want more thanthe puff piece there. Dig into them a bit, and check them all out.” She gave him the manager’s name, and that of the bartender. “Shelley found the Colberts, but not a thing about Ronald and Marla Frederick. Here’s a copy of their death certificates, and the article about their deaths.” She studied the copy of the article one more time, then drew in her breath and handed it to Bailey. “What’s wrong with that?”
    He read it, glanced at her and read it again, then grunted. “Where’s it from? What town or city? What’s the date? Frontage Road. Jeez, every town in America has a Frontage Road.”
    â€œAnd where did the newspaper get the photograph?” she said. “It says there that all their possessions were destroyed in the fire after the crash. Where did the photo come from?”
    He nodded, put the article down and made another note.
    â€œJust a little more,” she said then. “Apparently Joe went to the bank on Friday, visited his safe-deposit box, deposited a check for five thousand and withdrew a thousand. It was missing when they found his body.” She told him which bank.
    â€œI sure hope your client didn’t turn up with a thousand bucks in her pocket when they nabbed her,” he said.
    â€œAlmost that bad. She put two new tires on her car the next week.”
    â€œAnd they let her out on bail? Incredible.”
    â€œOkay, that’s it for