“Especially since the articles said the police couldn’t find a motive. As far as everyone knew, Roger Pierce had never met Dudley Franken. He wasn’t even Roger’s mail carrier. It was a totally random act.”

“And you don’t think it was?” she asked.

“You tell me,” I said. “Was it?”

She was silent for several long seconds, and I was sure she was going to blow me off, but then she surprised me. “Roger had a gambling problem. He made good money workin’ as a foreman at the lumber yard.”

“Drummond Lumber? That wasn’t in the news articles.”

“Well, he didn’t work there anymore at the time of the murder. His last job was at the convenience store at the corner of Walnut and Rally in Ewing. Back when he worked at the lumberyard, he was deep in debt and on the verge of losin’ his house. Then suddenly he came into a windfall, or at least enough money to catch up on his mortgage payments. There were a lot of rumors goin’ around about where he got the money, but his wife said a guardian angel had given it to them. Of course, Roger didn’t learn his lesson, as is often the way with addicts, and soon he was in debt again.”

I considered telling her that addiction was a disease but decided not to stop her.

“This time his wife left with their kids and moved to Nashville, and he lost his job. No one was surprised he killed himself. He was a bitterly unhappy man who refused to accept responsibility for his actions. It was the fact that he killed Dudley first that caught everyone by surprise. As far as anyone knows, Dudley never even went into the convenience store where Roger worked.”

“Why do you think Roger killed him?” I asked.

She gave me a pointed stare. “You’re wantin’ me to say that Bart Drummond called in a favor. I can’t tell you that, but it’s mighty suspicious. The sheriff never came up with an answer, although to be honest, I’m not sure how much they tried.”

Once again, nothing solid to link the crime back to Bart.

“Can you tell me about any others?” I asked. “I know you don’t like gossiping about things that can’t be proven, but I’m tryin’ to find people who might have been Bart’s victims. I need to figure out a way to stop him.”

“Stopping Bart Drummond is like tryin’ to stop lava flow from a volcano. It will only get you burnt to a crisp.”

“Then I’ll wear a protective suit,” I said. “Please, Miss Thelma.”

She sighed, looking none too pleased. “This one’s more personal.” She cleared her throat. “One of my husband’s second cousins got into trouble with the law for a DUI, and he couldn’t afford an attorney. So he went to Bart.”

“What did Bart give him?”

“He got the charges dropped.”

“And how did he repay Bart?”

She made a face. “Well, that part’s a little fuzzy. Bart would never want his favors broadcast, but it’s easy enough to guess based on what happened. Oscar got arrested for burning down a house.”

“What? Why?”

She shook her head. “Rumor had it that the woman didn’t follow through on her end of a bargain with Bart.”

“So he had Oscar burn her house down?”

“I can’t think of any other earthly reason why he’d do it. He didn’t even know the woman. He must’ve been worried about what Bart would do to him if he didn’t follow through, but he got caught.” She held my gaze. “Her two kids were inside.”

“Oh, my God! Did they get out?”

She shook her head. “No, and Oscar couldn’t live with it. He took his own life as soon as he got out on bail.”

Or Bart called in another favor and had made it look like suicide before Oscar could tell his side of the story. “And the woman?”

“She became a drunk and died a few years later when she ran her car into a tree.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

Her hands twisted in her lap, as though she was wrestling some inner emotion, and then she stopped. “I hesitate to say more, but not all of his favors are so ghastly. I heard of a man in Ewing who needed a loan to open a restaurant, and it thrived. Bart always has a table if he wants one.”

Wow. His choice of table in a restaurant in Ewing. My father would laugh his ass off at that.

“Will you tell me about more specific cases?” I asked as I flipped to a new page. “What about Betty Villanova? She was arrested for breaking into a pawn shop in Ewing about five years ago. The newspaper said the sheriff couldn’t figure out what she was there to steal, and she never told. She’s currently in prison after pleading guilty.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” she said, shaking her head.

“Does it sound like something Bart would have someone do?”

“Rumor has it that Bart asks for all manner of favors, and most of what I’ve heard is speculation and gossip. Might he have been behind it? It’s not outside the realm of possibility. I just can’t confirm it.”

I’d hoped for more information, but I suspected the relatives of the people on the list I’d made at the library would be able to fill in some blanks for me. Presuming they didn’t call Bart as soon as they heard from me. Time to move on to the primary reason for my visit.

“What do you remember about Wyatt Drummond’s DUI and robbery arrest?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re here because they found that poor girl’s body.”

“Heather Stone.”

She nodded. “Yep. Everyone was sure she’d left town. It’s so, so sad, but it’s not all that surprising when you think about it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s hard to believe Bart Drummond would let someone get the best of him like that. Rumor has it he paid her off, but I can’t imagine him doing that. It would make him look weak.”

“But I heard she was showing off a check at her going-away party.”

She seemed to give that some thought. “I could be wrong, of course, but it sure doesn’t seem like his style.”

“So why didn’t he squash the rumors?”

“Good question. Makes you think maybe he did have her killed.”

“Maybe, but if he did, he certainly didn’t have her buried there. Do you know anything about her?”

She frowned. “It seems wrong to speak ill of the dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Waving a hand, she let out a sigh. “I’ll tell you what I know.” She rested an arm on her chair, leaning closer to me. “She was a wild one, that Heather. Her aunt was likely sorry she’d agreed to keep her after the girl’s parents moved. Caused her nothin’ but trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“This and that, mostly juvenile stuff. Underage drinkin’ at the state park. I’m pretty sure there was a vandalism arrest in there. She slashed some poor girl’s tires, but the charges were dropped. Never home by curfew. Hilde tried groundin’ her, but Heather never paid her any mind. I told Hilde to send her back to her parents, but Heather would always manipulate Hilde into believin’ she was gonna follow the straight and narrow. And she would for a bit, then go back to her old ways.”