Partnerships Can Kill: The Third Charlie Parker Mystery by Connie Shelton Page B

yesterday.
I noticed, for the first time, that she'd brought out a lot of
pictures of David. Most were eight-by-ten studio portraits in dime
store gold metal frames. They began with David as an infant, and
went right on up to one that had to have been taken within the past
year. A couple of larger frames held collages of family snapshots,
and I saw a few that were probably David and his cousin Michael
together at about high school age. The two boys looked remarkably
alike. In a couple of the pictures, they could have easily been
brothers.
    I hadn't noticed that much resemblance in
person, but of course I had never seen them together. I turned my
attention back to Bernice.
    "I'm really sorry to be bothering you so
soon," I said. "I just have a question or two."
    She perched primly on the edge of the afghan
covered couch, indicating the ugly brown recliner for me.
    "I'm trying to locate some business records
that David would have had. Did he ever bring work here? Or, did he
keep any files here?" I knew it was a long shot, even as I
asked.
    She shook her head silently. Her mournful
eyes didn't even look as though she truly comprehended the
question.
    "Did he have a special girlfriend?"
    "Of course," she replied. "Libby Marquez.
She's a wonderful girl from the church. So devoted to David, she
was. We expected an engagement announcement any time. She sat right
by my side all day yesterday." Her eyes grew bright with tears.
    I had a vague memory of a girl sitting next
to Bernice after the funeral. She had worn a plain dark skirt and
blouse, no makeup, her hair pulled back from her face at the sides
and secured with barrettes. She had held Bernice's hand, but other
than that I couldn't remember much about her. From what I had seen
of David, he preferred the flashy type. I remembered the photos in
his office and had a hard time picturing him settling down with
such a mouse.
    I had one more question, and I knew it would
be a painful one.
    "Bernice, do you know if David owned a
gun?"
    This time her face came alive. "No, there is
no way my David would own a gun," she said adamantly.
    "Are you sure ?"
    "Of course. David loved living things. Once,
when he was a small boy, he threw a rock and accidentally killed a
bird. That boy was heartbroken. It hurt him so badly to see that
little bird die, after that he would not play with even toy
guns."
    "I see." A touching story, I had to admit,
but people do change later in life. With David, I couldn't be
sure.

    Chapter 12

    I could tell she was getting restive. The
others had gathered near the dining room door, waiting to leave for
church.
    "I'll let you get going," I said. "I wonder,
though, could I take one of these pictures of David? I'll return
it, of course."
    Bernice seemed reluctant to part with one of
the large ones, but she pulled an envelope of snapshots from the
small drawer in the end table, and leafed through them quickly.
    "Will this one be all right?" she asked.
    The photo showed David dressed in a three
piece suit, standing with his arm around Sharon. They both held
champagne glasses, obviously at a party somewhere. Perhaps the
grand opening of the restaurant last year.
    "It's fine, thanks." I said goodbye to the
others, and went out to my car.
    I had no definite plan where to go next, so I
headed back to the office. Back there, I found Sally in a slump.
Her period had started, dashing her hopes of motherhood for at
least another month. I spent a few minutes sounding sympathetic.
The ringing telephone saved me from having to come up with
something encouraging to say.
    It was Sharon, checking to be sure I'd made
it out of Ben Murray's office alive. I appreciated her concern.
When I posed the question to her about the gun, she couldn't be
sure. She had never heard David talk about a gun, but that didn't
necessarily mean he didn't own one. After hanging up, I went into
Ron's office and dug out the file containing the police report. The
gun's serial number had checked out as being