Cat's Claw (A Pecan Springs Mystery)

knows anything. Maybe Kirk mentioned the stalker to her.”
    “The Kirks were getting a divorce, I understand.” In response to his questioning look, she said, “Got that from a neighbor out front, and also from Bayles, who said the divorce was quote ‘messy,’ unquote. And wives sometimes hire private detectives to find out what their husbands are up to. Could be our stalker right there.” Sheila opened her notebook. “I’ll check back with you when I’m finished with Mrs. Kirk.”
    “Yeah,” Bartlett said. He looked at her. “Thanks, Sheila,” he said, testing again. It sounded awkward and he straightened his shoulders. “Thank you, Sheila,” he said more firmly.
    Sheila smiled. “No problem, Jack.”
    D ANA Kirk was as soft and round and sweetly attractive as a stuffed doll, her makeup muted, her brown hair tumbling in soft curls around herflushed and tear-stained face. Her voice was soft, too, and so choked that Sheila had to ask her more than once to speak up. Sitting down in a chair across from her, Sheila expressed condolences on the loss of her husband, then took notes as the story spilled out in rapid, breathy fragments, between gulps and swallowed sobs. Sheila kept her talking as much as possible. Tears could be a distraction. Or an act.
    Dana had been at the Pecan Springs Library all day. She worked in the office there eight-to-five, five days a week, which sometimes but not always included Saturdays, in which case she took a different day off. Lots of people could vouch for her being there today, with only bathroom breaks and an hour for a late lunch between one and one forty-five, which she had eaten with—hesitation, a quick breath—a friend, at the diner on Nueces, about six blocks away. Asked the name of the friend, she hesitated again, then said, with eyes cast down, “Actually, my boss. Mr. Vance.”
    She had worked at the library for six years, before that, for Jackie Harmon at Harmon Insurance, in Pecan Springs. Then she and Kirk had married and she’d gone to work at the library. They’d lived in an apartment first, then they bought this house. No, they’d never had any children. (A pause to wipe her eyes with a tissue and blow her nose.) Not even a dog or a cat. She’d wanted at least that, but Larry was allergic.
    No, she wasn’t living here now. Yes, she and her husband had been separated for a couple of months, since (a pause to think about it) last April, which now that she thought about it, was more like (a pause to count on her fingers) six months. Had there been any spousal abuse? No, of course not (the answer delivered emphatically). When asked to reflect and be sure of that answer, she repeated it, watching Sheila make a note. No, no abuse. Larry was a kind person—thoughtless, too busy, butbasically kind. Yes, she had filed for divorce. The name of her lawyer? Angela Binder. Had she and Binder hired a private investigator to work on the case? Eyes widening, she said no, no, of course not. She had no reason to hire an investigator, and anyway, she didn’t have any extra money until Larry could sell the business.
    So if she wasn’t living here, Sheila asked, where was she staying? With a friend, Donna Givens, until she and Larry could work out some financial details. That’s the reason she was here this afternoon. She had called and left a message, telling Larry that they needed to talk about money. And now— Well, she couldn’t (more tears and a sob), she just couldn’t, she would
never
be able to understand why Larry would do something like this. He was so level-headed, so self-contained, so—
    And anyway, he hated guns. She didn’t know he
had
a gun. In fact, she herself had suggested that they get a gun last year, when the house down the street was broken into, but he refused. He put his foot down. He wouldn’t let her have one, either, which was ridiculous, since—
    Sheila stopped writing. “Your husband hated guns?”
    Dana Kirk squeezed her brown eyes shut, then opened them. “Yes, and that’s why this is really so weird. I mean, it was a big thing with him, huge. He was an anti-gun activist. Last year when those college students were trying to change the concealed-carry law to let them bring their guns on campus? He thought it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard of, letting kids carry guns to class. He even went up to Austin to join the protest at the capital.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “So if he was going to… kill