“D. Huckins’s house without knocking at 12:46 A.M. to find Jack Adair on the cream couch with a bottle of beer and the mayor in her chocolate-brown leather chair. She turned to say something as they came in but Sid Fork preempted her with: “Somebody shot Norm Trice dead about an hour ago and left us a message.”Huckins nodded, as if at some mildly interesting news, and rose slowly, turning away from the three men. She walked over to one of her Monet prints and seemed to examine it carefully. Stil...l staring at the print, she said, “How’s Virginia taking it?”“Hard.”“You get somebody to stay with her?”“She didn’t want anybody.”Huckins turned from the slice of “On the Seine at Bennecourt,” her face composed, eyes almost dry, voice steady. “I’ll call her. See if she’d like to stay here a few days.”The mayor moved to the rear of the leather chair and leaned her thighs against its low back, as if she found the support reassuring. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “What message?”Vines took the five-by-seven-inch manila envelope from his hip pocket, crossed the room and handed it to Huckins.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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