P Is for Peril

unruffled. Whatever my disposition, it wasn't going to bother her. The image she projected was one of composure, competence, efficiency, and determination. Her smile, when it appeared, scarcely softened her face.
    "What's the deal?"
    She leaned forward, placing her business card on the desk in front of me. The face of it read, MARIAH TALBOT, SPECIAL INVESTIGATIONS UNIT, GUARDIAN CASUALTY INSURANCE, with an address and phone number I scarcely stopped to read. The logo was a four-leaf clover with Home, Auto, Life, and Health written in each of the four loops. "We need to have a chat about your landlord."
    "Henry?"
    "Richard Hevener."
    I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. "What about him?"
    "You may not be aware of this, but Richard and Tommy are fraternal twins."
    "Really?" I said, thinking, Who gives a shit?
    "Here's something else you may not be aware of. Richard and Tommy murdered their parents back in Texas in 1983."
    I could feel my lips parting slightly, as though in preparation for the punch line to a joke.
    The combination of the blue eyes and the silver hair was arresting, and I could hardly keep from staring. She went on, her manner completely matter-of-fact: "They hired someone to break into the house. As nearly as we can tell, the plan was for the burglar to drill the safe and walk off with a substantial amount of cash, plus jewelry valued at close to a million dollars. The boys' mother, Brenda, was the older of two girls who came from an incredibly wealthy Texas family named Atcheson. Brenda inherited a stunning jewelry collection that she left, by will, to her only sister, Karen. These are pieces that have been passed down through the family for years."
    She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a fat brown accordion file. She removed a manila folder and passed it over to me. "These are the newspaper clippings. Plus, one copy each of the two wills."
    I opened the file and glanced at the first few clippings, dated January 15, 22, and 29 of 1983. In all three articles, Richard and Tommy were pictured, looking solemn and withdrawn, flanked by their attorney in a three-piece business suit. Headlines indicated the two were being questioned in the ongoing investigation of the homicides of Jared and Brenda Hevener. Additional articles covered the investigation over the balance of the year. I didn't stop to read the wills.
    Mariah Talbot went on. "You'll notice their aunt Karen's name cropping up in some of the articles. The burglar was a punk named Casey Stonehart, who'd already been jailed six times for a variety of crimes ranging from petty theft to arson, a minor specialty of his. We believe he opened the safe using the combination they'd given him. Then he dismantled the smoke detectors and set a blaze meant to cover up the crime. Apparently-and this is only a guess-the deal was he'd take the bulk of the jewelry, which he was in a position to fence. The boys would take the cash and maybe a few choice pieces, then submit a claim to the insurance company for the house, its contents, the jewelry, and anything else they could get away with. Oh yes, the cars. Two Mercedes-Benz were destroyed in the blaze. Mr. and Mrs. Hevener were found bound and gagged in the master bedroom closet. They died of smoke inhalation, which is not as bad as being burned alive- lucky them. Neither boy was anywhere in the area. In fact, both by some miracle were out of town and had iron-clad alibis," she said. "Stonehart, the kid who did the dirty work, disappeared soon afterward; probably dead and buried somewhere, though we have no proof. He's been missing ever since so it's a safe bet they got rid of him. An accomplice is always the weak link in these things."
    "Couldn't he be in hiding?"
    "If he were, he'd have been in touch with his family. They're all deadbeats and bums, but loyal to a fault. They wouldn't care what he'd done."
    "How do you know their loyalty doesn't include keeping mum about where he is?"
    "The sheriffs department put a mail check in place and there's a trace on the phone. Believe me, the silence has been absolute. This is a kid with big dependency issues. If he were alive, he couldn't tolerate the separation."
    I cleared my throat. "When was this again?" I knew she'd told me, but I could hardly take it in.
    "1983. Hatchet, Texas. It didn't take long for suspicion to fall on the two boys, but they'd been extremely clever. There was little to suggest the part they'd played… beyond the obvious,