“Deputy Freeman?” Reed asked. “Marlin Freeman?”
“Yeah, yeah. That sounds right. I, uh, I think so.” Archer said, blinking rapidly and wiping a hand over his forehead.
“You have cameras here? A security system.”
“Yes, but the original cameras are old, and the newer ones were too good, picked up everything that went on. A rabbit, a bird, whatever, so …”
“They’re not functioning, is that what you’re saying?” Augustin asked.
“Yeah. This is a safe community.” Archer was nodding, but did manage to look sheepish. “I mean it was.”
“What about your neighbors?” Reed asked.
“I—I don’t know.” Archer shrugged. “I, um, I suppose they do. At least some of them.”
“Already got deputies checking,” Augustin said, “and interviewing the neighboring places, and the stores and street cameras.” To Archer, she asked, “Where were you tonight?”
“Me?” At first, he seemed offended, and then he cleared his throat. “I—I was downtown at the Stag and Boar, had a few beerswith some friends. Knox and Otis and Stoney and a couple of others will tell you I was there.” His Adam’s apple worked wildly. “You can call any of them. They’ll vouch for me and tell you I was there. Or talk to the bartender, Max … no, Mac. Yeah, call down there, talk to Mac. He knows I was there.” Archer’s frantic gaze moved from Sol to Reed. “We meet down there once a month or so, sometimes after the rifle club. You know, just target shooting.” He was visibly sweating. “You can call any of them. They’ll vouch for me. You believe me, don’t you? You don’t … I mean you can’t possibly think I had anything to do with this.” His skin was white and stretched over his features, his eyes wide.
Reed said, “We’ll need a formal statement down at the station.”
“Do I need a lawyer?” he demanded, stricken. “Oh. Christ. You all, you all think I’m behind this? Holy shit! I knew it. I just knew it! The husband is always the primary suspect.”
To her credit, Sol didn’t roll her eyes. “If you think you need an attorney, then by all means, call one.”
“I don’t … I mean, I didn’t do this … I wouldn’t … never … but …” He looked panicked and pulled at the collar of his shirt.
Reed stepped in. “Go down to the station, make a statement, and then you can go to the house on the island.”
“Okay. Okay. I will.” Archer was nodding frantically. “I will. And … what about the house?” His gaze darted throughout the interior, to the living area off the foyer, and across the hall to a large den filled with books and a wide mahogany desk situated in front of a marble fireplace. The entire house, Reed guessed, was filled with what Archer considered valuable items.
“We won’t be finished here for a while.”
Again there was a plaintive meow.
“And the cat? Can someone …?”
“We’ll handle it,” Augustin said.
“Good. Good. So. Um. Can I get my things? From my suite upstairs?” Archer waved a hand toward the top of the stairs and the landing where a huge portrait was visible, a slimmer, younger Archer with a full head of brown hair. In a suit and tie, he stood slightly to one side of his wife. One of his hands rested on her shoulder as Mavis, dressed in a shimmering silver gown, her chin lifted, sat in ahigh-backed chair, a dog, a golden Labrador retriever, resting at her feet. Archer said, “I can use the back staircase if you want … so as not to disturb …” His voice fell away as he glanced down at Mavis again, then looked quickly away.
“Do you have enough personal items at Tybee?” Reed asked. “We’ll need to go over the entire house.”
“Oh.” Archer was backing toward the door. “Okay. Yeah, yeah, I guess I can make do with what I’ve got on the island.”
“Good. Do that. ‘Make do,’” Augustin said coolly. “And while you’re at it, make certain we can get in touch with you.”
“I—I gave you my cell number. I have it on me.” He patted a pants pocket, making sure the phone was where it was supposed to be, then, as if he expected Reed to change his mind, Archer scooted out of the door, and within seconds, the sound of a sports car’s engine roared to life.
“Must be nice,” Augustin said as she scanned the wide entry hall with its soaring ceiling, curved staircase, shiny floor, and, of course, dead body. She picked up a vase on a side table and then, as if she realized she wasn’t wearing gloves, quickly replaced it. “About the cat?”
Reed watched as she quickly put on a pair of thin disposable gloves. “Call someone from animal control, and maybe they can get in touch with a shelter.” He hated to think what would happen if Nikki found out about another abandoned pet. Though his wife hadn’t shown up at the crime scene yet, it was only a matter of time until she found out that Mavis Greenlee had been murdered. Then she would no doubt discover that Mavis had left behind a cat that her husband didn’t want and that Nikki would move heaven and earth to adopt.
“Okay,” Sol was saying, making a note about the animal before crouching down and studying the victim with a critical eye. “What’s that?” she asked.
“What?”
“Under her skirt. There.” She pointed to the hem of Mavis’s skirt, which had ridden up to her waist in her fall, and there was an unlikely bulge in the tight, tummy-shaping panties.