Cat's Claw (A Pecan Springs Mystery)

Larry Kirk didn’t shoot himself.”
    “Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
    “Because a left-handed person doesn’t shoot himself in the head with his right hand,” China said. “Ruby happened to remember that Larry pitched left-handed at the neighborhood baseball game last summer. And Ramona saw the gun in his right hand. Looks like somebody shot him and tried to make it look like a suicide.”
    “Thanks, China. That’s the second confirmation we have on that. The guy who manages the computer shop told us that Kirk was a left-hander.”
    “Aw, heck.” China sounded disgruntled, but there was a smile in her voice. “I guess I should’ve expected Wonder Cookie to be way out ahead of us.”
    Wonder Cookie
. “Not too far ahead,” Sheila said, smiling. In spite of herself, she liked the nicknames China and Ruby came up with for her. “I’m still trying to figure out the stalker angle.” She paused, thinking of something. “China, did Kirk ever happen to mention anybody with the initials
JH
? Or maybe the name Jason Hatch?”
    “Initials? I’d have to think about that, Sheila. But I know Hatch. He’s the guy I worked with first, before Larry took over my projects. Not a very nice person, I have to say. Gruff, brusque. A fault-finder. Larry told me that he fired him, or wasn’t going to call him again—something like that.”
    “Did he say why?”
    “It had to do with customer relations, I think. Maybe—” She paused, and her voice tightened. “Wait a minute. Now that I think about it, this might be relevant to your investigation, Sheila. Larry once asked me if Hatch had ever approached me with what he called ‘an inappropriate request.’ I thought at first he was talking about sex and laughed it off. But that wasn’t what he meant.”
    Sheila frowned. “You’re thinking that he might have been talking about blackmail?”
    “Could have been. He wasn’t specific. It was almost as if he were fishing, trying to find something out without telling me what it was he wanted to know. At the time, I had no idea what he was getting at. But now, knowing about Timms…” She began again. “Look, Sheila. I’m guessing that George Timms broke into Larry’s shop because he wanted to get his computer back. You don’t have to confirm, but if there was any extortion involved, you ought to take a look at Hatch.”
    “That’s already on my to-do list for tomorrow.” Sheila was becoming more and more interested in Hatch. One way or another, he was involved with this, either with Timms or with Kirk or both.
    “See? What did I tell you? Wonder Cookie is out ahead of the pack.”
    Sheila chuckled wryly, wishing she were. “If anything occurs to you on the stalker business, you’ll let me know. Right?” She heard Rambo give one short, sharp bark, his signal to come in. She got up and opened the door.
    “I will,” China said. “Have you turned up anything interesting on the case?”
    “Hard to say,” Sheila said, stepping back to avoid the shower of raindrops as the Rotti shook himself off. “I’m not trying to duck yourquestion,” she added, turning off the back porch light. “At this point, there are just a lot of dots on the page, and more to come. Connecting them—well, you know. That happens later.”
    “All those damn dots,” China said, and laughed. “Yeah, I know.” She paused. “Have you heard anything more on Timms?”
    “Not a word.” Rambo put his paw on his water dish and flipped it over, his neat little trick to show her it was empty. Sheila carried it to the sink, where she set it under the faucet and began filling it. “Which is a little weird. Unless—”
    “Unless he’s vamoosed. Out of town. Way out of town, as in over the border.”
    “Yeah.” Sheila’s frown deepened. If they could talk to Timms, they might be able to clear up a lot of things. “Speaking of over the border, Blackie said that Mike is flying to El Paso early tomorrow. Tell him to be careful, will you?” She put the bowl on the floor and Rambo planted his forefeet and began noisily lapping water. “They both need to be careful.”
    China chuckled wryly. “Oh, right. Listen, if we wanted guys who were careful, we married the wrong ones. This pair takes to danger the way a bullrider handles a bull. There’s no stopping them.” She sighed. “Gotta say good night now, Sheila. Keep me posted on the investigation, will you?”
    “Hmm,” Sheila said noncommittally. She picked up her shoes and padded