Okay, no. Not hot.
He raised his fist to knock, and before she had to suffer through another bang, she opened the door.
“Miss Rhodes?”
“Uh, yeah.”
He reached into his pocket and flipped open a badge. “I’m Thomas Grimes, FBI. Mind if I come in for a moment?”
Her eyebrows shot up. The FBI?!
Every law she’d broken in the last ten years flashed through her mind as if her life was ending. Was he here about the message she’d spray painted on her ex’s barn last week? Fuck You Asshole was an expression of free speech, right? Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Or maybe the time she and Lydia skipped out on their fifty-dollar tab at Gino’s? Gus had been flirting with her all night, so surely he didn’t mind. Or was it about the time they’d stolen Lydia’s mom’s pot, climbed to the top of the water tower and gotten high? Oh God, or maybe…
“I said, mind if I come in for a minute?”
“Uh, yeah, I mean, no… sure.” She stepped back and held open the door as he paused at her foyer. With a stern expression that reminded her of a principal, he quickly skimmed her living room, as if taking a mental inventory of every single thing he saw. She followed his gaze and noticed the empty wine bottle on the coffee table. Shit. She looked back at him and was frozen by the most intimidating stare she’d ever seen in her life.
“What’s the nature of your relationship with the man who visited you yesterday morning?”
Her eyes rounded. “Who? Lawrence? He’s… uh, he’s a friend.”
“Just a friend?”
Oh, God. Now she was confused, scared, and embarrassed. Her heart started to pick up speed. She stammered, “Um, well, uh, I guess we kinda hook-up from time to time.”
The man nodded.
Shit, did he already know that? How?
“How long have you known Mr. Bennett?”
Bennett. She hadn’t even known the last name of the guy she was banging. She cringed. Her mom would be so disappointed. “We met at Donny’s, a few weeks ago, I guess it was.”
“When, exactly?”
She frantically tried to remember the date. “Um, two weeks ago, I think. He’d just moved to town.”
“From where?”
“I’m… not sure actually.” Her cheeks began to redden with embarrassment.
“Why did he say he came to Berry Springs?”
“He said he loved the area, so he moved here.”
“Did he ever mention any friends?”
“No. No names, at all.”
“What about plans he might have with people, friends, family?”
She shook her head. “No, he’s never talked about friends or family.”
“Not even in the context of telling you how his day was?”
“No…”
Thomas narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment, then asked, “Did he talk about his work?”
“What do you mean his work?”
“His job.”
“Oh. Just that he works at the Half Moon Hotel. Got a job there a few weeks ago.”
He looked around her apartment, again. “Have you been to his place?”
She shook her head. “No, he always comes here.”
“How often do you see him?”
How many times had they had sex? “I’ve seen him four times, that’s it.”
“Including yesterday morning?”
“Yes.”
“How long does he stay each visit?”
“An hour, max.” Or, thirty minutes.
“What’s the nature of your conversations when he visits?”
A bead of sweat rolled down her back. The nature of their conversations revolved around the words, drop your pants, and oh, yeah, but there was no way in hell she was going to tell the FBI agent that.
“Um, just small talk, mostly. He really keeps to himself.” She looked down, shifted her weight. “Look… we're just kind of each other’s booty call, okay? Honestly, I don’t know much about him. He isn’t really a talker if you know what I mean.”
“Did he ever get any calls while he was here?”
“Not that I recall.”
The agent stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, then pulled out a card with his number. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
She took the card. “I will.”
He turned and paused at the doorway. He ran his finger over the knob and trim. “These locks are a joke, Miss Rhodes. Might want to think about getting some new ones.”
The tone of his voice had a chill snaking up her spine. New locks?
He closed the door, and she wrapped her arms around herself and walked to the window. She watched him take one last look at her apartment before folding himself into a dinged-up sedan. He was on his phone the moment he pulled out of her driveway.
She frowned and drew the curtain, completely baffled by the last five minutes.
Lawrence Bennett?
She shook her head, thinking of every interaction she’d had with him. Or rather, every time they’d had sex. Had she noticed anything odd about him? Red flags? Had he said anything that surprised her? Why was the FBI asking about the seemingly boring Lawrence Bennett?
She glanced at the clock.
Well, she’d find out tonight, wouldn’t she? Lawrence Bennett might not be a big talker, but he sure as hell was going to answer some questions tonight.
CHAPTER 11
“Last person out here got shot at.” Wesley smiled as he walked up to his sister, on her hands and knees in mud, sifting through rocks.
She turned, the rain pouring off her hood. “I knew you’d see my car when you pulled up your driveway.” Dark circles shaded her usually bright eyes, accompanied with a puffiness that sent him on alert.
“And besides,” she forced a grin and continued. “If you shot at me with the same aim you took at the killer, I’d have nothing to worry about.”
He ignored the quip and handed her an umbrella he’d grabbed from the kitchen before taking off through the field in search of his sister. He squatted down next to her. “What’s wrong, Bobbi? Why the hell are you out here, in the woods, in the middle of a rainstorm?”
She heaved out a breath and sat back on her heels, the rain splashing around them. “Looking for anything they might’ve missed. There’s got to be something out here.”
“You’re about a quarter-mile from where the killer parked.”
“I know… I’ve made my way down.”
“Bobbi, Willard was out here again this morning, right when the sun came up. They’ve taken three passes. The damn rain is against us. Leave this to them, okay?”
She looked down.
“Bobbi, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head, and he noticed a quiver in her lip. “I don’t know, Wes. I couldn’t sleep last night. I just…” Her eyes filled with tears. “God, Wes, I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to you. I mean, obviously someone has something serious against you. Enough to kill for.”
Her tears were like a knife through his heart. “Hey.” He lightly grabbed her chin and wiped away the tear running down her cheek. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Ever. I can handle it. Shit, B, I’ve handled a lot worse than this.”
“Have you, Wes? Yeah, I know you went through a lot in the Marines, but this is personal. You’re all I’ve got, you know that? Dad… I mean dad is a great guy, but he’s not exactly someone I can talk to. And of course, Mom…” Her voice trailed off. “You mean everything to me, brother.”
“And you mean everything to me, too, B. You’re the only constant in my life. You’re my sister. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, okay? Yeah, Mom left, but so what? We can’t change what happened, and bottom-line, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you. You can take that to the fucking bank.”
She sniffed. “And no one’s taking you from me, either. If anyone wants to hurt you, well, they’ve got to get through me first.” She clenched her jaw a
nd pushed to her feet. “Dammit, look at me, crying like a damn girl.”
He stood, desperately searching for the right words to calm her down. Seeing his sister upset tore him up. Always had.
“It must be my period. I’m never this weepy.”
“Gross. B. Gross. I told you…”
“Yeah, I know, that’s the one thing I’m not allowed to talk to you about.” She inhaled deeply. “Okay, I’m okay. Geez. Get it together, B.” She began pacing. “Why don’t they have any leads, yet?”
“They do.” He took her arm. “Come on. Let’s go inside, get some coffee.”
She nodded, and as they walked through the woods, he filled her in on Gwen’s analysis of the eggs and her theory about the murder weapon.
“What was this girl’s name again?”
“Gwyneth Reece.”
“I hope you paid Miss Reece well.”
He smiled, looked down.
Bobbi slapped his arm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second.” She grinned. “You like her?”
“What? No. What makes you say that?”
“Oh, I know my brother, and I can see it all over your face.”
He felt her watching him closely as they walked in silence for a moment.
“There’s just something about her, I guess. She’s smart, dedicated to her job, and has an attitude on her like someone else I know.” He glanced at Bobbi and winked. “You’d like her. You two would get along.”
“Bring her over.” Excitement reflected in her voice. “Let me meet her, and I’ll let you know if she’s for you.”
“As nice as watching you grill her sounds,” he said sarcastically, “she’s gone now. Left for the airport hours ago.”
“You’re going to let that stop you?”
“It’s been a hell of an afternoon, B. And I’ve kinda got a lot going on right now. Shit, for all I know, she thinks I had something to do with Leena’s death.”
“Then she’s short-sighted and ignorant. But she’s not, right? She’s not. Give it a chance, Wes.” She sighed. “It’s time for you to settle down. I want you to get married and have babies. I want to be an aunt and teach my nieces and nephews yoga.”
“And how to hit a target?” He grinned.
“Well, I guess that’s on me after your latest pitiful attempt.” She met his grin.
“Hey! The fucker kicked gravel in my face, and the fog was thicker than damn smoke!”
“Okay, okay. That’s the last time I’ll give you crap about it. Anyway, you’ve got to give someone a chance. If you like this girl… if there was an instant ‘thing’ you felt, give it a chance. We need more family.”
The words hung like heavy weights on his shoulders.
“Hey, right back at you, you know.”
“I’m almost a decade younger than you are. My biological clock isn’t ticking yet.”
He wondered, was his? He looked away.
“Now, tell me what Dean and Willard had to say about everything.”
He inhaled deeply, thankful to be off the subject of his love life. “Dean assigned Officer Hayes to put together a list of everyone who works at the local sanitation department, the farmer's market vendors, and everyone in the county with a hunting license.”
“Hell of a list.”
“No shit. Willard knows the local taxidermist personally, so he took that task. Considering I have no power of the state behind me whatsoever, Dean suggested I swing by the animal shelter under the guise of shopping for a new pooch. The shit job, but that was okay; at least I did something.”
“Turn up anything?”
“I spoke with everyone there, no red flags for me. Any knife used would be in the clinic and turns out, the vet and vet tech know dad. Ended up talking about fishing for thirty damn minutes, and I don’t think either of them had sliced maggot-laden shit and then killed Leena. But I did get the list of people who work at the shelter, and the volunteers.”
“How did you get that? Wait… let me guess, the person working the desk was a woman.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault she was willing to help out. Anyway, Dean said he’d check the pawn shops to see if anyone had purchased a six-inch serrated hunting knife in the last few weeks.”
“Good thinking.”
“Yep. So, once Dean receives the list from Hayes—he’s already got mine—he’ll compare it with criminal records, and then compare that list with the DMV to see if anyone drives a black SUV. Maybe we’ll get a hit.”
“It’s a start. Finally. Thanks to your girlfriend.”
He rolled his eyes, and she laughed, then said, “Okay, that was the last one. Alright, what did Dean and Willard think about doing more DNA testing around Leena’s neck?”
“They were skeptical, at best.”
“What about her cell phone? Find it yet?”
“No, that or her purse. Dean’s hoping to get the data dump by this evening.”
“I’ll cross my fingers.”
“Both hands.”
They stepped out of the tree line and onto a dirt road. She stopped. “You think this is the road the guy took to get to the clearing where he parked, right?”
“I don’t think, I know. Aside from coming up my driveway and driving through the field, this is the only way to get there.”
“And they’ve checked it, right? Willard has?”
“Willard and Hayes, and now you, apparently.”
“Did they find your bullet shells?”
“Two of the four. Guessin’ the rain washed the others. We’ll find ’em.”
She started to kneel down to search again, but he grabbed her arm. “No, Bobbi, come on. Let them handle it. You’re soaked. Let’s get you inside.”
“Okay, okay, okay.”
And as he pulled her along with him, he didn’t notice the blood-stained rock beside her boot.
***
Two hours and three inches of rain later, Wesley suspiciously eyed his rearview mirror, squinting to see through the rain-streaked back windshield of his truck. The dreary light of day was fading, making seeing through the monsoon even more difficult. A blue sedan drove directly behind him, and behind that, a dark-colored SUV.
Was it black?
Was he being followed?
He flicked on his turn signal and turned into a residential neighborhood. He slowed down, his eyes locked on the rearview mirror. The SUV slowly passed the road, then disappeared. He did a U-turn, and shot back onto the road, hoping to catch the license plate, but the vehicle was gone.
Humph.
He circled the square, eyeing each vehicle, then decided to give up. He didn’t even know if the damn thing was black, and besides he had somewhere else he needed to get to. He hit a red light and pulled out his cell phone.
Over the last four hours, Wesley had checked his phone more times than he’d like to admit, hoping Gwen would call with news, or just call. She hadn’t. And as he pulled into the small parking lot in front of D.D.’s Jewelry Store, he checked it one more time.
He blew out a breath, then peered through the rain and was shocked to see the neon Open sign flashing in the window. Not only because the store had been closed all day—he knew this because he’d driven by five times already—but because it was pushing seven o’clock in the evening.
He reached into his pocket and grasped the bracelet. He still hadn’t told Dean that he’d taken it from Leena’s wrist, or about the mysterious pendant he’d discovered on it. Not until he did a little investigative work on his own, at least. And this was step one.
He darted across the sidewalk and pushed through the front door. A bell jingled above his head.
“Just a minute!” He heard from somewhere in the back.
Wesley smiled at the woman’s voice. D.D. Wreckers, Mrs. D.D. as she was known around town, had owned and operated D.D.’s Jewelry Store for as long as he could remember. Somewhere in her mid-seventies, D.D. was a quick-witted, no-bullshit kind of woman who began every morning with a two-mile walk, and ended ever
y evening with a gin and ginger ale. She’d recently hired Wesley to make a custom gun for her husband, and they’d developed a friendship. He was relieved to see her working and not her husband, who only filled in for her occasionally and surely wouldn’t be able to answer the questions he had.
The five-foot-one-inch woman hobbled out of the back room. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.
“Well, Wesley Cross!”
“Hey there, Mrs. D.D.” He frowned at the walking cast on her foot. “What happened?”
She scowled. “Sprained my damn ankle tripping over one of Tom’s damn walking sticks. Goddamned walking sticks. Collects them, he does.”
“I’m sure you gave him hell about it.”
The old woman snorted. “Hell would’ve been easier on him. Anyway, he’s out of town today, and I had to get my own self to the doctor.”
“Mrs. D.D., you can always call me for things like that.”
“I know that, dear.”
“Where’s he at?”
“Some gun show downstate, been gone since Friday morning. Three nights now. Three nights of bliss.” She winked and braced herself on the glass counter that separated them. Inside lay dozens of gold rings and chains illuminated under yellow light.
“He should be back this evening, and then it’s back to fetching his beer and listening to the damn news on blast. I swear I’ve considered getting earplugs.” She braced the edge, leaning her weight against it. “How you holdin’ up, kid?”
So the gossips had already gotten to her. “Okay. It’ll pass.”
“Yes, sir, it most certainly will. I promise you that. In the meantime, I’ve got your back, son. Anyone talkin’ shit, I’ve been settin’ them straight.”
Anyone accusing him of murder, she meant.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I sure do. You’re a good kid, Wesley. Always thought so. They’ll catch the son of a bitch, and this will all be behind you. Although, if I know anything about you, you’ve got your own investigation going on behind the scenes. If you need anything, you let me know. Okay?”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“Anyway…” She cocked her head. “What brings you in today?”
He pulled the bracelet from his pocket, secured in a plastic baggie. “There’s a pendant on this. I’m hoping you recognize it? Maybe sold it from your store?”
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