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his daughter sold it.”

“Good, let’s go talk to her.” She hesitated. He looked at her and asked, “Is that a problem?”

She sighed. “No, let’s go do it.”

He nodded and asked, “Which way?”

She gave him directions to her best friend’s house.

*

Bonaparte wasn’t sure what Angela’s reaction meant. “Is there a problem here that I need to be aware of?”

“No,” she said. “Gladys is the woman who sold the property for her father. Her daughter is a good friend of mine, that’s all.”

“And this is a conflict of interest?”

“When you’re the sheriff of a small town like this, all of it is a conflict of interest,” she said, with a quirk of her lips.

He thought about it and nodded. “I guess it does make things awkward at various times, doesn’t it?”

“It does, but I’ve been in this job for a few years,” she said. “I’ll make it through a few more too. At least if we can deal with the interference from these assholes.”

“Good enough,” he said. She directed him toward town and then to a right turn, where they veered off to another corner. “This is an interesting area,” he said.

“Yes.”

“So, what is it we’re looking for here?”

She pointed out the address as they got closer. “That little brownstone over there,” she said. “That’s Isabel’s place.”

“Got it,” he said, and he pulled up in the front. Almost immediately the front door opened, and Isabel stepped out, a frown on her face. But, when she saw Angela hop from the truck, a smile lit up her features.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s with the truck?” And when Bonaparte got out, her eyes widened. “What’s with the mammoth?”

“This is Bonaparte,” Angela said. “He’s one of the deputies who’ll be working with me.” The words seemed to roll off her lips quite easily.

Bonaparte reached out a hand to shake Isabel’s and smiled. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Good Lord,” she said. “We don’t see too many people your size around here,” her gaze going from Bonaparte to Angela and back again.

“Nope,” he said, “not too many anywhere.”

At that, she looked startled, and then she laughed. “Isn’t that the truth? I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Come on in.”

“I just need to ask you a few questions,” Angela said.

Isabel stopped in her tracks, looked at her, and said, “Are these difficult questions?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, “but I don’t know. When your mother sold your grandfather’s property up on Alston Way?”

Isabel nodded.

“Were there any issues with the sale?”

An odd look came on Isabel’s face. “What do you mean by issues?”

She shrugged. “Obviously there was something because now you are prevaricating.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. “You can’t use big words on me and expect me to know what they mean.”

Angela sighed. “I’m not using big words. I just asked you a question, but, instead of answering me, you got this nervous look.”

“Well, there was something. We had two buyers. Remember?”

“I remember you telling me that there were two bidders. I presumed you took the largest and walked.”

“Well, we did, and we didn’t,” she said. “We wanted to sell it locally. Remember James? He died in the car accident …”

“Another car accident?” Bonaparte asked Angela, who nodded.

Isabel continued, “I mean, it’s a good thing that we didn’t sell it to him after all,” she said, “but he was pretty upset when we wouldn’t. He wanted to keep it local, and we actually ended up selling it to the rich guy from out of town.”

“And was there any pressure to sell to him?” Bonaparte asked, watching Isabel’s face, and caught that slight consternation. “So there was. What kind of pressure?”

She frowned, her lips thinning, as she looked from one to the other.

“Is there a problem?” Bonaparte asked.

“We need to know the extent of the pressure this guy has put on locals,” Angela said.

“Well, it wasn’t really pressure. I mean, how much pressure can it be? He paid good money for the property. We needed to sell, as you know.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “But was your mother put under any undue pressure? Why would you choose him over James?”

“It was Mom, I think, as much as anything,” she said. “I didn’t care who bought it, but James died in a car accident, and the other guy? I don’t even remember his name,” she said, almost nervously looking around, as they stood outside on her front walk. “He went through with the sale, so we were happy, and we got our money, and it was done.” She put up her hands in a gesture of a what can you do motion and added, “We were just happy to have it over with.”

Bonaparte pressed the point. “And why is that?”

Isabel looked at him and then at Angela. “Why the interrogation?”

“Well, it would help if you would just answer our questions,” Angela said. “We’re trying to figure out if there’s been any wrongdoing by this buyer.”

She frowned at that. “Well, he’s one scary dude,” she said. “But Mom up and sold and was quite happy to.”

“Of course. Did she receive any threats, telling her to sell or suggesting what would happen if she didn’t?”

“Oh, ouch,” she said. “Yeah, there was. I mean, I happily forgot about it for a long time.” She sighed. “And I really don’t like you bringing it up either,” she said, her tone turning cross. “We have enough problems.”

“And what problems are those?” Bonaparte asked. Angela looked like she would answer, but he gave a slight headshake. Instead, Isabel looked at him and said, “Just that my granddad’s in the old folks’ home. And he’s causing quite the kerfuffle there.”

“And your mom?”

“She doesn’t have great health either,” Isabel said, then shrugged. “We did what we had to do to take care of them both.”

“Do you mind telling us all the details then?” Angela said quietly. “You’re not in trouble. But we need to know what we’re facing with the guy who bought it.”

A look of almost fear crossed her face. She looked behind Bonaparte and said, “I don’t know.” She shook her

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