by Burton, Mary
The boys laughed and egged him on to tell.
Tyler wagged his finger. “Matt, do you know the answer?”
Matt’s smile melted as the energy suddenly shifted. The boys now looked at him as if they were a pack and he was prey. “I hear your mother could fuck like nobody’s business.”
The other boys’ laughter rang around Matt.
“I wonder if your mama moaned like Amy did when I was grinding into her.”
Matt’s fingers tightened around the stick. “Don’t talk about my mother.”
“Why? You said yourself she’s an uptight pain in the ass,” Doug said.
Matt would never say for sure exactly what happened next. But when Benny punched him in the arm, he snapped. He and his mother practiced self-defense moves, and she always said to come out swinging. Make the first shot count. No such thing as a fair fight in the streets. He cracked the stick against Benny’s head. Adrenaline surged through his body. The other boys stared in stunned silence before they raced toward him. They were bigger. But he was faster. And it turned out, a whole lot meaner.
Nevada picked up Macy fifteen minutes later, and the moment she climbed into his vehicle, he was glad he’d bought strong coffee for her. She looked like she’d slept some but oddly looked less rested than she had when she’d left the sheriff’s office.
The scent of the coffee pulled her gaze to the cup holder. “For me?” she asked.
“Three sugars and two creams.”
She tore back the cup’s tab and sipped. “Bless you.”
As they pulled out onto the road that led to town, he asked, “You look like you’ve caught some sleep?”
“If you can call it that.”
“The leg?”
“For once the leg feels pretty good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s all good.”
“The Macy I used to know could sleep through anything.”
She sipped more coffee. “The new Macy has dreams.”
“What kind of dreams?” He kept his tone low and nonjudgmental.
Instantly, she seemed to regret the confession, as if deciding nothing good came from being too forthcoming. “The kind of dreams I get when I’ve had too much coffee. Weird, odd, and in the light of day, they mean nothing.”
“Coffee never bothered you before.”
“Sadly, it does now. Getting tagged by a three-thousand-pound pickup changes a lot of things.”
“The limp will improve and the hair will grow back. What else has changed?”
“I now have a weird fascination for country western music.”
“I’m serious, Macy.”
“So am I. I found myself tapping my foot to banjo music the other day. Frightening.”
Nevada said nothing, but he could almost hear the wheels grinding in her head. Instead of telling him what was really on her mind, she shifted the conversation back to the case.
“So where has Debbie Roberson been for the last three days?” she asked.
“Holed up with an old boyfriend, Rafe Younger.”
Macy groaned. “Such an obvious explanation. If I had followed up with Rafe sooner, I’d have known that. Did Debbie blow off her job for him?”
“She said she notified her boss that her roommate agreed to swap shifts.”
“That’s not what Dr. Shaw said.”
“A simple miscommunication? Work schedules get mixed up all the time. Everything pointed to Debbie being in trouble.”
“But she wasn’t.”
“It was a false alarm.”
Macy sat back, staring out the window. “I have three days remaining to make headway in this case, and I’ve wasted precious time today running down a rabbit hole. Stupid.”
Nevada parked in front of the station and they both went inside. The deputy on duty buzzed them in, and they found their way to the conference room, where Bennett sat with an annoyed-looking young woman.
Dark hair framed the young woman’s face, drawing attention to smudged mascara and full, pouty lips. Looking freshly fucked and irritated, Debbie tapped her foot.
Beside her sat a lean man, sandy-brown hair, tanned skin. He was a good decade older, but unlike his partner, he didn’t appear concerned.
“Ms. Roberson and Mr. Younger, I’m Special Agent Macy Crow, and you must know Sheriff Mike Nevada.”
Both nodded, but it was Debbie who spoke. “I called my mother and she melted down over the phone. She said everyone thought I was dead.”
“We’re glad you are safe,” Macy said.
“I can’t believe you thought I was dead,” Debbie said.
Rafe leaned forward, hands clasped. “We didn’t mean to screw things up for you.”
Macy sat across from them but Nevada remained standing, leaning against the wall off to her right, his arms crossed. When he and Macy had worked together in Kansas City, he had let her do most of the talking while he played the role of the proverbial silent, brooding bad cop. By default, she was good cop, but if Debbie didn’t lose the attitude, he was fairly sure it was going to be a case of bad cop/bad cop.
“Where have you been?” Macy asked.
“We just took off,” Debbie said.
“You left your purse in your car at the park with the doors unlocked.”
“That was stupid, I know,” she said. “We got caught up in the moment, and I forgot about my stuff. I thought I’d locked my car, but I guess I forgot.”
“Where were you?” Nevada asked.
“An inn about twenty miles west of here. The Warm Springs Inn. I didn’t tell Mom because I didn’t think it would matter. I’m twenty-one, and we don’t always talk every day.”
“She’s also not crazy about Rafe,” Macy said.
Debbie shrugged her shoulders. “She’s uptight.”
Macy scribbled down the name of the inn. “Your cell phone was not transmitting a signal.”
“It got messed up at work,” Debbie said.
“What do you mean?” Macy asked.
“I don’t know. I pulled it out of my purse, and it wasn’t working. I didn’t have time to get it looked at.”
It was a perfect storm of incidents that had led to the wrong conclusion. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but knowing Macy as he did, this mistake would make her question her own judgment. “While I’ve got you here, Mr. Younger, let’s talk a little about Tobi Turner. Did you know her in high school?”
Rafe looked startled by the question and then quickly shook his head. “I was playing ball then. That was my focus, and I had about five friends that I remember.”
“Who’s Tobi?” Debbie asked Rafe.
“She was murdered, Ms. Roberson,” Macy said. “She went to school with your boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
“Mr. Younger?” Macy prompted.
“Sure, I knew her. We all knew each other. And when she vanished, everyone was a little freaked out.”
“Did you think I’d been killed like her?” Debbie asked.
“The thought did cross our minds, Ms. Roberson,” Macy said.
“Why? It was fifteen years ago.”
“The killer has not been caught, and frankly, you look a lot like Tobi. It was a coincidence I couldn’t ignore,” Macy said. “What about Cindy Shaw, Mr. Younger? You know her?”
“Sure.” Rafe folded his arms. “Do you think she was also murdered?”
The smart-ass tone clearly set Macy’s teeth on edge. “I don’t know, Mr. Younger. I sincerely hope not.”
“She wasn’t the kind to stick around here. She saw her ticket to freedom and she took it.”
“What was her freedom ticket?”
“She said she was coming into money. I guess it came, and she took off.”
“Where does a girl who lived in a trailer on the outside of town get enough money to quit school and move across the country?”
“She didn’t confide in me. We weren’t that close.”
“Who would she have confided in?” Macy asked.
“I don’t know. I really didn’t care about Cindy Shaw. No one got that upset when she left.”
“Keep talking,” Macy said.
“Cindy had a vested interest in Bruce making it to the big time. She thought once a scout picked him up, it was a matter of time before the NFL money rolled in. Cindy would have done anything to help her brother.”
“Such as?”
“I caught her going down on one of the scouts behind the field house.”
“Is that your idea of anything?” Macy asked.
“Whatever her brother wanted, she got for him.” Rafe was silent and then sighed. “I saw her arrive at the bonfire with Tobi Turner.”
For a moment the detail seemed to simmer with Macy. They both knew that Tobi had driven to school, changed clothes, and then ridden to the bonfire with Cindy. “That’s also not a crime.”
“Cindy gave her a glass of grain alcohol,” Rafe said. “Stuff tasted like lemonade, but it kicked like a mule.”
“What’s the point?” Macy asked.
“Tobi drank it straight down and Cindy served her another. I think the point was to loosen her up for one of the guys on the Dream Team.”
“Do you remember who ended up with Tobi?”
“No. I wasn’t paying attention at that point. I only thought about it later after the girl vanished.”
“Did you tell Greene?” Macy asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“What happened between the guys at the bonfires stayed between the guys.”
She threaded her fingers together and clasped her hands tightly before she released them. “Which of the four guys was most likely to assault a girl?”
“We were pretty intense. We were trained to be savages on the field. That mind-set made us champions.”
“Town heroes with perks,” Macy said.
“It wasn’t like that,” Rafe said. “All the girls wanted to be with us. They were the best years of my life.”
“So basically Cindy drugged girls and gave them to the team?” Macy asked.
Rafe shook his head. “You’re making it sound terrible. It wasn’t.”
“Tell that to Tobi.”
Nevada heard the bitterness and anger in her voice and knew then it was time to pivot. “We found a red rope in the trunk of your car, Ms. Roberson. Did you put it there?”
“I found it in the bushes by my bedroom window. I wasn’t sure where it came from, so I tossed it in the trunk and forgot about it.”
“Finding a new length of rope in the garden seem a little odd to you?” Macy asked.
“I figured my roommate dropped it.”
“Who is your roommate?”
“Beth Watson.”
“When we knocked on your door yesterday, there was no answer,” Nevada said. “And I drove by last night and didn’t see any signs that anyone was home. Where is Beth?”
“That’s weird,” Debbie said. “Beth said she’d be home. I should go by the house and check.”
“We’ll send a deputy by,” Nevada said.
“You thought something bad happened to me, and it didn’t. Don’t you think you’re getting a little weird about nothing?”
“Do you have somewhere else to stay tonight?” Macy asked.
“Why? I want to go home.” Debbie’s voice amped up a notch.
“I’ll send a deputy with you,” Nevada said. “If he gives the all clear, we’ll consider this case closed.”
Debbie rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“And remain available,” Macy said. “I might have more questions.” She stepped into the hallway, dragged a shaking hand through her very short hair as Nevada followed behind her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
In a lower voice she said, “Her no-big-deal attitude just pisses me off.”
“Join the club.”
“No matter what she thinks, finding that rope by her window is a red flag.”
“Deputy Rogers should be here any moment to accompany her home.”
Macy blew out a breath. “I want to get buccal swabs from all the members of the Dream Team. We know Decker isn’t a match, and I still need samples from Younger and Shaw.”
“There were a lot of guys on that team,” Nevada said.
“We’ll start with the stars.”
“Sounds good.”
“Younger next.”
“I’ll get a kit,” Nevada said. He returned minutes later with a sealed vial that contained a cotton swab. “Remember, you get more flies with honey.”
Macy grinned. “I can be very sweet.”
“I’m not touching that one.”
They both entered the room, and when Debbie looked up and saw Macy’s expression, she realized how angry Macy was. Good.
“Mr. Younger, I’m hoping you can do me a favor,” Macy said.
Younger shifted in his seat. “Sure, if I can.”
“Would you allow me to test your DNA?” Macy asked.
He sat a little straighter. “Why?”
“So we can confirm you weren’t involved in what happened all those years ago.” She made a point not to mention the rapes or murders. “You strike me as a good guy, and when I speak to the media, I can say right up front that you weren’t involved once I have the test results.”
He glanced toward Debbie, who shrugged. “Sure. I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” Macy pulled on gloves, opened the vial, and when Paul opened his mouth, she swabbed the inside of his cheek before resealing the swab in the glass tube.
“That’s it?” Younger asked.
“That’s it. I’ll send this off to the lab, and you can just get on with your life.”
“Can we go now?” Debbie asked.
“Sure,” Macy said.
The two rose and left without comment.
Macy held up the vial to the light. “I’ve seen offenders rise to a DNA challenge only to run as soon as they leave the station house. We’ll need to get this analyzed as quickly as possible just in case.”
“I’ll have a deputy drive it down to the lab in Roanoke,” Nevada said.
“I’d also like a swab from Bruce Shaw,” Macy said.
Nevada looked taken aback for only a moment. Bruce might be a respected doctor in town, but they both knew that didn’t mean much right now.
He drove down the quiet country road that he’d traveled a dozen times in the last couple of months. He had not had a body in his trunk when he’d done his recon work, but he had fantasized about it. How many times had he measured the inside of his trunk? How many times had he loaded bags of sand into his trunk to see how his car handled with the extra weight? And when he had realized he had to kill, he had carefully lined the interior with plastic.
He slowed as he pulled to the side in a small turnaround that most folks used when they realized they’d made a wrong turn. The road saw enough traffic to ensure she’d be found soon.
He put the car in park and got out. He could bury her in a grave, and that would buy him years. It had taken the cops fifteen years to find Tobi, and that had been dumb luck. But he wanted this one found. He wanted to see the media swarm, to hear the faint whispers of fear, and to watch the Keystone Cops chase their own tails in circles. He was smarter than all of them put together. He was throwing down the gauntlet.
The plastic crinkled when he hefted the corpse out of the trunk and cradled her cold body close. He had forgotten how unwieldy dead weight could be.
After laying her on the ground, he removed the plastic and then shoved it in a large garbage bag, which he stowed in his trunk. Kneeling, he brushed the hair from her eyes and smoothed his fingertips over her pale cheeks.
He took care to straighten her large T-shirt and made sure its hem covered her private parts. No need to be crass, and he certainly didn’t want the world to think he was a pervert.
He removed a disposable phone from his pocket and dialed a familiar number. It rang three times before he heard a gruff “H
ello.”
“It’s me.”
A long pause followed, and then, “What do you want?”
“An alibi.”
More silence. “I did that once before.”
“And you were generously rewarded.”
“The stakes are higher now.”
Rising, he stared up at the bright half moon. “The stakes are always high. That’s what makes it interesting.”
He wouldn’t make threats. They both knew that one word to the cops would bring their house of cards tumbling down.
“What do you want?”
Smiling, he drew in a deep breath and relayed exactly what he needed said if anyone should come asking about him. When he ended the call, he stared up at the bright sky and thought about the next woman.
He had his eye on several, but there was one that rose to the top of his list. Already he imagined his fingers around her slender neck and the final moments they would share.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tuesday, November 19, 10:00 p.m.
When everyone left the conference room, Macy sat in silence and dropped her face into her hands. Since she had rolled into town, she had learned precious little. And at the rate she was going, she would drive back to Quantico empty handed and out of a job.
Nevada pushed through the door. “Let’s take a break.”
“I don’t need a break. I need to solve this case.”
“Two hours won’t make a difference, and getting away from the station might help clear your head.”
“I’ve barely gotten started on this investigation.”
He picked up her backpack. “Break. Food.”
Knowing her mind was running in circles, she realized an hour or two might be what she needed. Macy followed him out the back door of the station and got into his car. He started driving, and she didn’t pay close attention to the passing buildings until he took a road leading out of town.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To my house. I’ll make us a meal, and then we can get back to it in a few hours.”
“To your house. I’m not sure that’s smart.”
“Afraid you can’t keep your hands off of me?” he challenged.
She studied his amused profile and realized how much she’d missed his sense of humor. “Your honor is safe with me, Sheriff.”
