Page 106 of Death on Gallows Path

“Don’t need to pick. Any reason, no reason would do.”

We grinned at each other.

We didn’t speak again on the trip, except when Clara pointed out a turn I nearly missed.

We reached Gallows Path.

No sheriff’s department vehicle, no murder victim’s truck, no police tape. No sign that anything happened here at all.

And no reason not to creep past as slowly as I wanted.

It just didn’t do any good.

As before, I drove past, turned around at the same spot. This time noticing a broken street sign as we neared Gallows Path. The only remaining letters were —ndle Street.

Could it be Swindle Street, named after the family?

“Want to turn in this time?” Clara asked.

“Might as well.”

Gallows Path drove exactly the way it looked, rough and rutted.

I drove past where the vegetation had already started rebounding from being beaten down by activity. Spring could do that. We followed the turn in Gallows Path, going between thicker stands of trees.

“Definitely private from the highway,” Clara observed.

“Confirms what we figured.” I started what turned into a five-point turn. “Also confirms that Gallows Path is an unlikely place for Damon to meet someone for business.”

“For pleasure?”

“Then why not turn into the woods?”

Back on the highway, Clara asked, “Other thoughts?”

“Nothing. Can you direct me to the Swindell house again?”

“Yup.”

* * * *

The grass at the Swindell’s house had been cut recently, with immaculate edging and cleanup. The fountain burbled on schedule.

“Pammy must be back home,” Clara said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Look.”

Lucifer was on a long leash on the side of the house.

He’d tangled the leash around a bush that would have surrendered if it could have. Lucifer practically vibrated with excitement at the sight of our vehicle slowing down. At the same time, he appeared forlorn — hoping for something to happen, but not truly believing it would.

We had to confirm his disbelief by continuing past, because there was still an occupied sheriff’s deputy vehicle there.

CHAPTER FORTY

“What are you thinking about?” Clara asked me.