When Death Draws Near by Carrie Stuart Parks Page B

you should ask Professor Wellington about it.”
    “Okay.” Clay would be calling soon about the sketch, so I excused myself and headed to my room. The propped-up drawing on my desk was almost finished.
    Stopping at the door, I stared at the sketch. I’d seen that man before, with a slightly fuller face.
    Jason Morrow, the snake wrangler. And Mrs. Fields’s son.
    Swiftly I shut the door behind me. What if Mrs. Fields saw this?
    It’s not a positive ID. It’s a sketch. There could be a number of people who look like that.
    I resisted the urge to widen the face and increase the resemblance.
    Using the house phone, I dialed Clay’s number. He answered on the second ring. “Hi. I’m just finishing up the video surveillance drawing.”
    “I’m tied up right now, but I’ll send someone.” Clay’s voice was clipped.
    I wanted to tell him that I thought I’d recognized the man, but I didn’t want to influence his own possible recognition. And I could be wrong. “Okay. Do you have anything else for me?”
    “Not right now. See you tonight.” He disconnected.
    I put the finishing touches on the drawing, scanned it, and printed several copies. After backing it up on a flash drive, I placed the printouts in a folder. Taping some tracing paper over the top of the original sketch to keep it from smudging, I placed it in a separate folder. Before I could take it to the front door for pickup, Mrs. Fields tapped on my door. “An officer is here for you.”
    Following her, I spotted Junior in the foyer shifting his weight from foot to foot. His restless fingers danced around the hat he held.
    “Here you go, Junior.” I handed him the folder. He glanced at it, then left without a word. Mrs. Fields shut the door behind him. I wanted to ask about her son’s whereabouts, but instead said, “Odd fellow.”
    “Always has been.” She sniffed, then headed for another part of the vast house.
    My cell phone was ringing as I entered my room. “Gwen Marcey.”
    “How’s the case going?” Beth asked. “I picked up your mail and phone messages. You have someone who has a case for you in Folly Shoals, Maine. How much longer are you going to be? I finished the research you asked me to do.”
    “Challenging. Thank you. Where’s that? I don’t know. Tell me.”
    Beth was silent for a moment. “Okay. Point made. Let me try again. Folly Sholes is an island off Summer Harbor, Maine.”
    “At least I’ll have some work waiting for me.”
    “How’s the case going?”
    “Interesting. Someone tried to run me down, I’ve gotten a death threat, and someone put a rattlesnake in my bed.”
    “Oh! Really? Doesn’t that enervate you?”
    “I have no idea what you just asked. Is that your word of the day?”
    “It is. I didn’t think I’d be able to use it. What does Robert think about all that? Isn’t he sending Aynslee to be with you? He called me, but I didn’t have room.”
    I rubbed my forehead. “Aaah, Beth, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything I just said to anyone.”
    “So he’s threatened you. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.”
    “Yeah, well.”
    “Meeting someone new, a decent guy for a change, would—”
    “Don’t go there, Beth. I’m still not ready for the dating scene. Just tell me how the research went.”
    “Hold on.” Paper crackled in the background. “Your Clayton Reed is divorced with one son and has a BA in criminal justice from the University of Pikeville. He ran for state representative four years ago. Lost. Ran for city council the year before that and lost that as well.”
    “So. He’s ambitious, but not very successful at it. Could be one of the reasons he hangs around Blanche and Arless. The allure of power.”
    “Who are Blanche and Arless?”
    “The folks who paid for me to come here. Check them out next. Last name of Campbell. Also look into a Jason Morrow and Mrs. Fields.”
    “Do you have a first name on Fields?”
    “No, but she’s Jason