Kelly laced the fingers of her free hand through his, and when he didn’t flinch or pull away, she held his hand on her lap.
While Max was washing the dishes, he heard the shower turn on. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and wiped the sweat from his face and chest. He waited for her on the futon, eyes closed, comfortable and drowsy in the overheated room.
For a moment he wanted to be alone in the house so he could drift off to sleep; then he realized that most of his comfort came from Kelly being in the house with him.
The bathroom door opened and he heard her footsteps as she made her way back to him.
“How do you turn the heat off?” she asked. “It’s like a sauna in here.”
“Leave it. I like it.”
“You look like you’re burning up and you’re half naked.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.”
She sat down beside him and let the towel fall open. Her breasts were cool against his chest. It had been eight years since they’d touched in this intimate way. She opened her mouth to speak and he put a finger on her lips to silence her. Their need was beyond what words could heal.
He’d read once that after a death, humans craved sex as a release from autonomy, a rebellion against death, a manic claim on life—an instinctive and impersonal urge. Tonight, not for the first time, he and Kelly reached out and found each other in grief.
When he was sure she was asleep, he went to the bedroom and retrieved the Smith & Wesson 686 he slept with every night.
Max woke to a noise, a scraping sound, and was on his feet in seconds, his pistol drawn and ready.
The door and all the windows were locked and the house was an oven. Soaked in sweat, Max could practically hear his heart hammering in his chest. He turned the thermostat to the lowest setting. In the dark, he drank straight from the kitchen faucet for a long time.
Earlier, her eyes half closed and on the brink of sleep, Kelly had asked a question that had played in his mind all day: “Do you think Connor killed her?”
In need of fresh air, he opened the door. A ghostly mist swirled. At the base of his spine, a tingling sensation rose and spread up and across his back. A primitive fear set in; he felt exposed and watched by someone or something unseen, hidden by darkness. In the narrow lanes of the trailer court, fog swirled and surrounded the houses like a living thing.
He wondered if Stacey’s spirit remained, and if she would haunt him day and night for the rest of his life. He locked the door and made his way in the dark to where Kelly slept, grateful to slip in beside her warm body. He felt the length of her at his back while his fingers grazed the barrel of his pistol.
CHAPTER 18
Kelly woke up alone. On the pillow beside her, she found a yellow sticky note on which he had printed, “I locked you in. Lock up when you leave.”
Not surprising. She knew him well enough to know that he protected his heart. In the light of day, he wasn’t going to show any vulnerability. In the light of day, he’d be covered up in his personal armor of muscle and male distance. He was probably at the gym.
Her own muscles hurt from sleeping on the thin mattress of the futon, nothing more than a foam pad over wooden sticks. They might as well have camped out. She hated camping; that was the one thing that separated her from their gang of friends. She liked comfort. She thought of her queen bed, with its pillow-top mattress and featherbed topper, as she rolled over and stretched out her aching limbs.
The scent of musk and soap on the pillow where Max had rested his head made her think of dark forests, no sun—a fairy tale wood conjured from old stories long forgotten.
Spending time with Max did that, got her mind going in new directions, her own thoughts surprising her. So different from the way her brain usually worked—steady, strategic, one thought following another like cars on an assembly line, engineered by her, nothing unexpected. She came undone in so many ways around this man.
And Max had been there when Tim died and all the light went out of everything. Later, when she read about black holes, she understood the concept easily and resonated with the idea of being pulled into a void. Her world after losing Tim became a vast empty space, one in which she felt untethered and alone.
Broken as she was then, only Max could reach her. In those stricken days, he kept her from feeling deranged and alien.
In a time toxic with sorrow, they’d found a way to walk through the sadness together.
And now, with Stacey’s death, the opportunity had risen to do it again. Connor and Stacey were part of that time. Now Stacey was gone too.
All of a sudden, she felt afraid in Max’s place alone. Her own thoughts disturbed her. She began to worry she’d screwed up by walking off the job last night.
She hurried out, still wearing Max’s oversize clothes, determined to make things right with Val.
CHAPTER 19
Antelope got to the station before the 8:00 a.m. roll call on Sunday morning and was surprised to find the sheriff at his desk. Since his life had fallen apart six months earlier, his boss had slowed down. He rarely showed up for weekend shifts.
A weaker man would be on a lounge under a palm tree, buried deep in tequila. Not Scruggs. When his wife died in January, he’d taken two days off to bury her. The next day, he’d undergone cardiac surgery at University Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah, followed by two weeks in a rehab facility. By the end of January, he’d put his uniform back on and reported for duty.
“Don’t look so surprised, Antelope,” he’d said on his first day back on the job. “I just hit the pause button. I’ll be here to the bitter end, boots on, ready to draw.”
For Antelope, the magic was gone. He tried to keep it from showing, but things were different between them now. Initially, he’d made Scruggs his hero, made of pure gold and heavyweight. As a new detective, he’d cast himself in the sheriff’s mold. It was hard to admit that he’d created the mentor he needed—that Scruggs wasn’t a superhero, just a flawed human being.
Antelope missed the story he’d told himself about the sheriff—that he was bigger than life, like some kind of tribal elder. He was working to accept that it was enough for them to be two lawmen who worked cases together. Fifteen years of hard-won experience on the job gave Scruggs indisputable credibility in Antelope’s mind. Even his cousin told him it was past time to cut the cord. He didn’t disagree. But like most things in life, it would have been easier if it had happened the natural way, and there was nothing natural about the cataclysmic fall of Sheriff Carlton Scruggs.
Scruggs held court from the doorway of his office, arms folded across his chest, all the day shift guys gathered around as he filled them in on the murder. When he spotted Antelope, he closed the session down and waved him into his small office.
His desk was piled with slanted stacks of manila folders, all the active cases in the department, everything he was responsible for managing and clearing. He liked it spread out where he could see it and touch it. “I’m a hands-on manager,” he’d told Antelope the day he made detective and came under his command.
Despite his heart condition, Scruggs continued his lethal lifestyle habits. A Krispy Kreme box was open on his desk, sugar and crumbs from his favorite glazed donuts on the bottom. Antelope preferred chocolate-covered donuts, himself.
The sheriff came with a history. Before he came to Sweetwater County, he’d botched a high-profile missing person investigation when he covered up his affair with the victim. Ten years later, another affair and another missing woman with a connection to him. One more mistake and it might be the end of his days in law enforcement.
If that happened, there was no doubt in Antelope’s mind that the superhero would exit with a gun in his mouth.
Scruggs squashed the box and dumped it in the trash. “I probably won’t have time for lunch, figured I’d stock up now,” he said and licked his fingers.
“I’m a cheeseburger man, myself,” Antelope said. “It’s my go-to meal when I’m on a murder.�
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“If I’ve learned anything in this job, it’s that we’re all creatures of habit.” He settled into his chair. “Toni called and said you can catch up with her this afternoon.”
“Thanks, I will.” Antelope slid into the seat across from him. “We talked last night, but it got late.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I talked to her last night at the Saddle Lite.”
“What the hell? I brought her home at nine thirty.” Scruggs got red in the face and glared. Antelope couldn’t tell what got to him the most—his own defiance of the sheriff’s wishes, or Toni’s.
The moment passed. Scruggs got down to business.
“What do we know about the victim?”
“She was into erotic asphyxiation.”
“What the hell? Toni told you that?”
Antelope shook his head. “The friend, Kelly Ryan. She said Stacey got off when Connor choked her during sex. Death can result if the game goes too far.”
“The Medical Examiner should be able to tell us what happened, right?”
“Guess we’ll have to wait and see. Connor didn’t offer up anything when I spoke to him, and it didn’t seem the right time to ask. I’ll have another conversation with him. Kelly said Stacey used a tracking app to check his whereabouts and look for evidence of cheating. Someone had told her that Connor checked into a motel in Salt Lake City with another gentleman. The app might tell us more. I’ll sign the phone out of evidence and give it a look.”
“Sex in the city. I’ll be damned.” Scruggs shook his head. “Good to know I’m not the only fool for love in Sweetwater County. What did Toni have to say?”
“She sensed some trouble between Stacey and Connor; couldn’t be specific, but it’s consistent with what I heard from Kelly. Stacey asked her the difference between a narcissist and a sociopath. She didn’t know if Stacey was talking about Connor or someone else.”
“Not much to go on, but at least she’s looking a little more interesting. Keep poking around.”
“And there’s this.” Antelope slid the plastic evidence bag across the desk.
“What is it?”
“I believe it’s our victim’s engagement ring, retrieved from the garden at the Cedar Street house last night.”
“How the hell did you find it, and what were you doing there at night?”
Antelope shrugged. “I always go back to murder scenes, and this time it paid off. When I show this to Assistant Prosecutor Collins, he might get honest.”
“Bring him in here and get it on video. I’m done with any special treatment for him.”
Antelope called the Evidence Room to request Stacey Hart’s cell phone for sign-out and was told they didn’t have it and now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall seeing it at the crime scene. Then he left a message for Connor Collins to call him. His phone vibrated, and a text from Toni settled his schedule: Any time after 4 at 35 Wardell Court.
He texted back to confirm the time and place, then called Kelly Ryan.
She picked up on the first ring.
“Hi Kelly, Detective Antelope here. I’m heading over to the Black Tiara. Can you meet me there in about a half hour? I’d like to follow up on a few things with you.”
In addition to the Astro Lounge, Val Campion owned the Black Tiara. It would be a good place to question Kelly about the things she’d failed to disclose—namely, where she worked and how much she knew about Jack Swailes.
“I didn’t eat breakfast yet, but yeah, sure, I’ll have lunch with you. I just need a few minutes to pull myself together, and then I’ll head over.”
As Antelope pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center, Kelly stepped out of a neon yellow Volkswagen convertible. She wore a short yellow sundress with white polka dots and yellow stiletto heels. She gave him a wave and a smile.
He walked to the front door and held it open for her. She walked past him into the cool, dark, uncrowded dining room. In the strong churchgoing community of Green River, brunch didn’t get busy until noon.
Kelly led him to the bar and motioned for him to sit beside her.
“Hey, Kelly, how you doing?” the bartender asked. “What can I get for you today?”
She smiled sweetly. “Doing okay today, Marco, thanks for asking.”
He put up napkins and a bowl of peanuts and took their order: a seltzer for Antelope and a gin and tonic for her.
“They know you here.”
“I work here.”
“You didn’t say.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“There’s a lot of ground to cover early in the investigation, sometimes things get missed.”
“The tips are great.” Kelly tilted her head to the side. “So why are we here?”
“You said you last saw Stacey a month ago?” Antelope asked, intentionally ignoring her questions. “I would have thought you’d see each other more.”
“Everybody’s busy. Our schedules didn’t leave us much down time.”
“Did something happen between you and Stacey? An argument?”
“Fern told you, right?” Kelly snorted. “She blamed me. In her eyes, Stacey could do no wrong.”
Antelope maintained a poker face. “I wanted to get the straight story from you.”
“Stacey got all self-righteous when she thought Connor cheated on her. The next week, she tells me she’s got feelings for another guy! What’s the difference? I can’t stand hypocrites. She didn’t like hearing the truth.”
“This is Jack Swailes you’re referring to?”
“Yes, he worked at the house.”
“Did she admit to being involved with him?”
“You mean romantically?”
“That’s what I’m hearing.”
“Even if something had happened, it would never have lasted.”
“You seem pretty sure.”
“I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen—a real innocent, totally naïve. Connor was the only boyfriend she’d ever had, and he treated her like a queen. No hookups for Stacey; no heartbreak, either. She asked for trouble when she started up with him. I told her. The two of them couldn’t have been more different from each other.”
“Sounds like you know the guy.”
“I was going by what she told me.”
“Opposites attract in romance, don’t they?”
“So they say. I’m trying to imagine someone who would be your opposite.” She fluttered a hand. “Don’t mind me. I get this way when bad things happen. Stacey didn’t know anything about men and what they can do.”
“Not like you.”
Kelly blushed and looked away, finished her drink.
“Were you involved with Jack Swailes when he hooked up with Stacey?”
“What are you talking about? Marco, another one of these,” Kelly said and pointed to her glass.
“Time to get honest, Kelly. I know you dance at the Astro Lounge. Val Campion said Jack had his pick of the dancers. I’m guessing he picked you.”
“Jack’s a man-whore who wouldn’t let any woman tie him down, not even Stacey.”
“Did you tell Stacey about you and Swailes?”
Her eyes filled up and she reached for the gin and tonic Marco had just set down in front of her. After swallowing a huge gulp, she said, “There was nothing to tell. And how would I have explained how I knew him? Nobody knows I work at the Astro. I’m not ashamed of it; I just don’t want to be judged.”
“Were you jealous when Stacey told you about her and Jack?”
“You don’t get it. Jack and me, we were not together.” She raised her chin in defiance.
“It’s a serious mistake to hold back information in a homicide investigation.”
“My friend was murdered. I was in shock.”
“Fair enough. I won’t arrest you for obstructing the investigation. But if you hold anything else back and I find out about it, I won’t be able to make the same call. You’re on notice. Are you hearing
me?” Antelope gave her a hard look. “Let me decide what’s important and what’s not. It’s my job.”
Kelly nodded.
“It was Swailes who gave her the idea Connor cheated on her, right?”
“That would be like him,” Kelly said.
“To start trouble between Stacey and Connor?”
“Yeah, to make himself look better to her. He needs all the help he can get. Do you think he killed her?”
“It’s a possibility. All I know is he ran off and that looks bad for him. Do you happen to know where he is?”
She put her hand to her mouth and whispered, “Jack’s gone?” Her eyes filled with tears again—surprise, a genuine response, not acting, Antelope thought.
“He didn’t get in touch with you?”
“No. I called him yesterday when the news said a workman found her but his phone was turned off.”
“I need to follow up on this thing with Connor in Salt Lake. It would help to know which of the 515 hotels he was seen at. Jack is running scared. If you let him know we’re looking into this, taking it seriously, maybe he would give you the name of the place if he thought it would get the spotlight off him. Can you work with me on this?”
“I can ask.” Kelly’s tone was doubtful. “He’s not the easiest person to deal with, especially if he thinks it’s a trap.”
“Tell him if gives up the name, it’s good for him. But bottom line, if he wants to help himself, he should get back here and cooperate with the investigation. And don’t agree to meet with him. He’s a person of interest in your friend’s murder. This is the real deal, Kelly. Don’t take any chances. He might not be who he seems to be. The man could be dangerous.”
Kelly got very still. She looked frightened and trapped. He hadn’t meant to terrify her into cooperating—but no, he realized, her eyes were looking past him. He turned to see what she was focused on.
Val Campion stood in the doorway. A gust of wind caught the door and sand blew in from the desert and swirled around the room. Kelly covered her face.
Campion looked at Kelly, laughed, and turned away without speaking. The young woman beside him grabbed onto his arm and followed him into a back room.
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