Death at the Wheel by Kate Flora Page B

described—described so well it sounded like she'd come to believe it. His was a different story than I'd gotten from Cindy at the Kwik-Stop, though I recognized the characters. It wasn't helping me any, though. I tried to change the subject. "What about their financial situation? Did Julie talk about that?"
    He shook his head. "That's another dumb thing my sister did. She's perfectly competent to handle money but she let him do it. I don't know what came over her. It was like she ran out of confidence or something. I don't know. All through high school she worked like a dog to get out of here. She was going to set the world on fire... and then she up and marries that guy and... I dunno. It's like he brainwashed her or something. My wife and I, we were both always saying to her, Dee, you've got to keep a job, some means of support. Suppose the guy walks out on you? But she wouldn't hear it. Said it would never happen."
    He shook his head. "Real dumb for such a smart person. My wife Brenda, she says she thinks Dee married her dream of how life was supposed to be but then Brenda likes to read those women's magazines that're always preaching that psychology shit. Whatever the reason she married him, she discovered that it was no better than what she'd come from. Worse, if you ask me. But she wouldn't have killed him. She's not the killing type. And she wanted those girls to have a father. That was more important than what he was doing to her, even if he did have her so skinny and nervous she couldn't even eat anymore." He shrugged. "But I don't know much about their finances. They lived well. He wasn't generous, though. He made her account for every penny. Lately she said he'd been real nervous about spending. That's all I can tell you."
    "Did you ever hit him?"
    "Once. He had her up against a wall, choking her, because she'd forgotten to pick up his favorite shirt at the laundry and he wanted to wear it. I couldn't help myself."
    I tried to steer the conversation back to my original question. "Do you know of anyone else who might have wanted to harm Cal?"
    "Not specifically, but I expect it's everyone who knew the guy, except maybe his golfing buddies. The husbands of some of the women he slept with, maybe? He wasn't particular about their marital status. Or some of the women he'd rejected. You know how they are. I don't know this for a fact, of course, but I expect he didn't get on very well with the people who worked for him, either. He probably treated them the same way he treated Julie. Badly."
    "You don't know any particulars?"
    "Julie didn't talk much about his work. I don't think she knew much."
    Other than Dunk himself, I was coming up empty-handed. "What about girlfriends? Anyone you can think of that I should talk to?"
    "You're asking me about Cal's girlfriends?"
    "Julie's girlfriends. Friends. The women she socialized with."
    "Dee... Julie isn't much for girlfriends. She's always been sort of a loner." There was a pause as he reflected on the conversation. "Hey, wait a minute, lady. You aren't suggesting that I might have done it?" He leaned over the desk and peered at me. "You sure you aren't a cop?"
    "I'm sure. Did she ever talk to you about Thomas Durren?" It was a long shot, a casual question. I wasn't prepared for his reaction at all.
    A thundercloud rolled across his face. A quick reach behind him and he had the crowbar in his hand without even looking.
    My nose tingled as I remembered the man on the loading dock. Jimmy. "You said you were her friend, and now you're trying to slander my sister." His voice dropped to a growl. "Let me tell you something, missy. If you have any notions of sharing that with the police, you'd better forget about them, you know what's good for you. We Donahues have to look out for each other." He set the crowbar on his desk, like a peculiar paperweight, but kept a hand on it. "Why did I tell you all that stuff for, you go and ask a question like that?"
    I shrugged. I had no answer