Twisted

shed about an hour ago, rummaging around.”
    “And?”
    “I called the police and they came by. Didn’t findanything. Might’ve been a raccoon. The window was open. But the door was locked.”
    “Gwen?”
    “She’s upstairs asleep. Did you find him?”
    “No, no trace. At least I hope I put the fear of God into him so we’ll have a few days’ peace.” He looked around the house. “Let’s make sure everything’s locked up.”
    Ron walked to the front door and opened it, stepping back in shock at the sight of the huge dark form filling the doorway. Gasping, he instinctively drew back his fist.
    “Whoa, there, buddy, take it easy.” Sheriff Hanlon stepped forward into the hallway light.
    Ron closed his eyes in relief. “You scared me.”
    “I’ll ditto that. Mind if I come in?”
    “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Ron snapped. The sheriff entered, nodding to Doris, who ushered him into the living room. He declined coffee.
    Husband and wife looked at the sheriff, a big man in a tan uniform. He sat on the couch and said simply, “Harle Ebbers was found dead about a half hour ago. He was hit by a train on the LIRR tracks.”
    Doris gasped. The sheriff nodded grimly. Ron didn’t even try to keep the smile off his face. “Praise Him from whom all blessings flow.”
    The sheriff kept his face emotionless. He looked back to his notebook. “Where’ve you been for the past three hours, Ron? Since you left the Ebbers’ house?”
    “You went there?” Doris asked.
    Ron knitted his fingers together then decided it made him look guilty and he unlinked them. “Drivingaround,” he answered. “Looking for Harle. Somebody had to. You weren’t.”
    “And you found him,” the sheriff said.
    “No, I didn’t find him.”
    “Yessir. Well, somebody sure did. Ron, we’ve got reports of you threatening that boy tonight. The Clarkes and the Phillips heard screaming and looked out. They heard you saying that you didn’t care if you got caught, or even executed, you wanted to kill him. And then you took off chasing him down Maple.”
    “Well, I—”
    “And then we got reports that you caused a disturbance at the Ebbers’ place and fled.” He read from his notebook. “ ‘In a very agitated frame of mind.’ ”
    “ ‘Agitated frame of mind.’ Of course I was agitated. He had a pair of my daughter’s underwear in this goddamn altar in his closet.”
    Doris’s hand rose to her mouth.
    “And I found some pictures of her he’d taken on the way home from school.”
    “And then?”
    “I drove around looking for him. I didn’t find him. I came home. Look, Sheriff, I said I’d kill him. Sure. I’ll admit it. And if he was running from me and got hit when he was crossing the tracks, I’m sorry. If that’s, I don’t know, negligent homicide or something, then arrest me for it.”
    The sheriff’s broad face cracked a faint smile. “ ‘Negligent homicide.’ Let me ask you, you read about that somewhere? Hear it on Court TV?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Just that it sounded a little rehearsed. Like maybe you’d thought it up before. You threw it at me pretty quick just then.”
    “Look, don’t blame me if he got hit by a train. What the hell’re you smiling at?”
    “You’re good is what I’m smiling at. I think you know that boy was dead before the train came along.”
    Doris was frowning. Her head swiveled toward her husband.
    The sheriff continued. “Somebody crushed his skull with a blunt object—that was the cause of death—and dragged him a few feet to the roadbed. Left him on the tracks. The killer was hoping his getting hit by a train’d cover up the evidence of the blows. But the train wheel only hit his neck. The head was intact enough so the medical examiner could be sure about the cause of death.”
    “Well,” Ron said.
    “Do you own an Arnold Palmer model forty-seven golf club? A driving wood?”
    A long pause.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Do you golf?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you own golf clubs?”
    “I’ve been buying golf clubs all my life.”
    “I ask ’cause that was the murder weapon. I’m thinking you beat him to death, left him on the tracks and threw the club in Hammond Lake. Only you missed and it ended up in the marsh beside the lake, sticking straight up. Took the county troopers all of five minutes to find it.”
    Doris turned to the sheriff. “No, it wasn’t him! Somebody broke into our shed tonight and must’ve stolen a club. Ron keeps a lot of his old ones