Tough Customer (26 page)

Then he went to stand in the center of the street and, hands on hips, did a slow three-sixty survey of the entire area, hoping to see something that would give him a clue as to where Starks had gone when he'd hobbled from the car. Was he miles away by now, or close? Chances were he was watching Ski from his hiding place, perhaps from the cloudy window of one of the vacant warehouses.

Ski wondered if Starks had abandoned the car here for a specific reason, but he was betting not. There were no other tire tracks indicating that Starks had been met here and picked up. Ski figured he'd driven this far from the motel before being struck with the full impact of what he'd done. He'd feared his car might have been seen, possibly by someone driving past the motel when the fatal gunshot was fired. Maybe he thought Lisa Arnold had seen the direction he'd taken when he fled.

Whatever had gone through Starks's mind--and God only knew--he was rational enough to realize he had to ditch the car and take his chances on foot. He probably thought this was as good a spot as any. There were no streetlights in this part of town. It was a street traveled by only the handful of families who lived on it, and it was doubtful they had a neighborhood crime watch.

Starks had walked away from the car in stocking feet. That was something to Ski's advantage.

He turned to Stevens. "You're the best print man in the department. Get what you can from the car. Go over it with a fine-tooth comb."

"Sure thing, Ski," he said and walked toward his car to get his fingerprinting kit.

Addressing the other deputies, Ski said, "I'll call in more reserves, but start without them. Stay with Starks's trail through the field as far as you can. See if you can pick it up on the other side of the railroad tracks. All those abandoned buildings, start at the bottom of each one and work your way up. Look for anything recently disturbed. I want every inch of them searched. If anyone finds something, they're not to touch it. Call me immediately. Tell the others when they get here."

They nodded.

"Andy's on phone duty. I'll get him to track down the owners of those businesses and secure permission for you to go inside. I want them checked for break-ins, jimmied alarm systems, anything and everything out of the ordinary. Same goes for the middle school campus. I want frequent updates. Anything seen, heard, or discovered, I want to know immediately.

Anything,
got it?"

"Sure, Ski. Where are you going?"

"To talk to the boss."

His phone had rung twice, but he'd ignored it, knowing it was probably Sheriff Drummond returning his call. Now, he depressed the button to dial the sheriff's home number. Drummond picked up on the first ring. "Ski?"

"Morning, sir. I need a minute of your time."

"Is it about the Coldare boy? His granddad and I are in Rotary together. Terrible thing. Tragic. You're sure it was Starks?"

"Yes, sir. I've got a positive ID. I can be at your house in five minutes."

"We're trying to make the eleven o'clock worship service."

"I promise not to keep you long."

Ski didn't give him a chance to argue before disconnecting. When he arrived at the sheriff's home, Mrs. Drummond was already sitting in the front seat of their Lincoln Town Car with the motor running. The sheriff was waiting at the end of his driveway, dressed in his Sunday best, Bible in one hand, Stetson in the other.

Ski pushed the gearshift into Park but left his SUV idling as he got out. "I hate to hold you up, sir, so I'll get straight to the point."

"No apology necessary, Ski. Starks shot a good kid in cold blood. That goes beyond wounding a man in a love triangle showdown. What do you need?"

"Your authorization."

"For?"

"Dogs."

"Hey, it's Andy, right?"

Dodge, who had exchanged names with the young deputy the night before, strolled into the sheriff's department and over to the desk where Andy was seated. Fortune was with him. Andy was the only one there, and since he'd seen Dodge in Ski's company the night before, he didn't question Dodge's walking in like he owned the place.

Dodge set a white box on the desk. "What I like about small towns, they always have a doughnut shop where they're made fresh every morning."

"The Donut Hole," Andy said.

"Help yourself."

"Thanks." Eagerly the deputy raised the lid and surveyed the selection.

"Don't thank me," Dodge said. "Wasn't my idea. Ski sent me to pick up that evidence on Starks he got last night. Since you're stuck here while everybody else is out, he thought you deserved a treat."

Andy, frowning, licked strawberry frosting off his fingers. "I just talked to Ski. He didn't say anything--"

"How old's that coffee?"

Andy glanced over at the stained coffeemaker sitting on a table against the far wall. "Uh, an hour or two, I think."

Dodge grinned. "Then it should be just about right." Holding a blueberry cake doughnut in his mouth, he went over to the coffeemaker and filled a foam cup, then added two packets of sugar. Looking over at Andy, who hadn't moved, he asked, "Got that stuff for me?"

Andy looked unsure. "Ski's on his way out to the motel to question the owner again."

"That's right. He wants to confront her with that evidence."

"He ... I'm sorry, Mr. Hanley, but when I talked to Ski ... wasn't but a couple of minutes before you got here ... he--"

"He didn't say anything over the phone about it, did he?"

"No, that's why--"

"Whew, good," Dodge said, pretending to be vastly relieved. "The man's got a lot on his mind. I thought he might've slipped."

"Ski? Slipped?"

"You know, slip of the tongue. Tired as he is--I don't think he's slept since Friday night--he might have forgot that he was holding that evidence in abeyance."

"Abeyance?"

"You know, from the media."

"Media?"

"The radio station, son. Where've you been? Ski's got the local station broadcasting bulletins about Oren Starks every ten minutes or so."

"I know that, but--"

"Well, the media can be useful to us, no question. Puts Joe Q. Public on the alert. But we don't want the evidence we've got on Starks broadcast to every yahoo in East Texas, do we?"

"No, sir, but--"

"And Starks is listening to the radio, too. You can bet on it, son. Ski doesn't want him to know the goods we got last night."

The young man's eyes brightened. "So when he's caught, we can use those photos of Ms. Malone to trip him up."

Dodge's stomach dropped. It took every deception skill he possessed to look happy as he slapped the young deputy on the shoulder and said heartily, "There you go." He stuffed the remainder of the doughnut into his mouth and checked his wristwatch. "Ski put me on a deadline."

Andy got up and disappeared into a cubbyhole of an office, emerging a few seconds later with a Ziploc bag with a manila folder inside. "You gotta sign--"

Dodge snatched the plastic bag from him. "Ski said not to stand on ceremony. No time for it today."

Dodge thanked him and, with the evidence bag tucked under his arm, got the hell out of there.

The desired nap didn't pan out as Berry had hoped.

She had deserted the scene of the kiss with a cowardice equaling Ski's, fleeing the kitchen and leaving Dodge and her mother without an explanation. Upstairs, she showered, slid naked between the cool sheets, closed her burning eyes, and willed her mind to shut down and allow her body to fall asleep.

But neither her mind nor her body cooperated. Thoughts of Ski Nyland persisted. Images of them in sexual scenarios flitted through her mind, making her body restless, actually feverish in places impossible to ignore, places where she wanted to feel his eyes and hands and mouth on her.

Considering the tragedy that had taken place the night before, her lust seemed particularly ill-timed. Disgusted with herself, she threw off the covers, got up, and dressed.

When she went downstairs, she found her mother seated at the dining table, sorting through her MLS directory, making notes, cell phone within reach. "You're working?" Berry asked.

Caroline removed her reading glasses. "It's Sunday. People house-shop on Sundays. I've delegated scheduled showings to other agents, but I'm checking just to make sure all my bases are covered."

"You should try and sleep for a while."

"Waste of time."

"Well I know," Berry admitted with chagrin. "Where's Dodge?"

"I have no idea. He said he didn't have time for breakfast after all, that he needed to follow a hunch. He left almost as abruptly as Ski did."

"Hmm." Berry hoped the topic of Ski would end there. But her mother was too intuitive.

"What happened between you?" she asked. "When Dodge and I came in, we could practically smell the ozone. Were you in the middle of an argument, or ... something else?" Just then her cell phone jingled, saving Berry from having to answer. Caroline checked the caller ID. "It's my office."

"Take your call. I'm off."

"Where are you going?"

"It's Sunday. Day of atonement."

Twenty minutes after leaving the lake house, she was standing outside Ben Lofland's hospital room. She bolstered herself for whatever might come of this visit and tapped lightly on the door. Amanda Lofland opened it. When she saw Berry, her expression turned petulant and hostile.

Berry didn't give her an opportunity to speak first. "I'd like to see Ben."

"What for?"

"To apologize for his getting shot."

Startled by the blunt admission, Amanda regarded Berry with mistrust but then stepped aside and allowed her to enter the room. Ben was awake, half sitting up with pillows behind his back.

Berry smiled as she approached the bed. "You're looking a lot better than you were the last time I saw you."

"I feel worse," he grumbled. "I was unconscious when you last saw me, and wasn't feeling a thing."

Amanda went to stand opposite Berry on the other side of the bed, her expression sour.

Berry asked Ben, "Is the pain bad?"

"Only when I breathe."

"Don't the drugs help?"

"Put it this way, I'd hate to be without them."

She said softly, "I tremble when I think how much worse it could have been."

"Yeah. That's occurred to me--to us--too." He reached for Amanda's hand and squeezed it. Husband and wife smiled at each other, although Amanda's smile was somewhat strained.

"I blame myself for underestimating Oren's mental state," Berry said.

"Who'd have thought he could do something so crazy?"

"I was forewarned," Berry admitted. "I'd seen him lose it completely."

"Before Friday night?"

"Yes. But only once. I thought it was an isolated incident, a reactive outburst. Obviously I misjudged." She took a deep breath. "That's why I saw no harm in phoning him."

Ben's pale face registered his surprise. "You phoned him? When?"

"Thursday afternoon."

Still gaping at her, he said, "Had you lost your mind?"

"It was a mistake. I see that now, but I had said things to him that I regretted and wanted to apologize for. I also felt he should know the project he'd worked on was being completed and that it had turned out well. I felt that we--that
I
--owed him that."

Ben wet his lips. His gaze shifted several times between Berry and his wife, finally landing on Berry. "I wish you'd consulted me first."

"So do I. If I had, you might have talked me out of calling him, and none of this would have happened."

"I cannot believe you," Amanda muttered. "This is
so
all your fault."

Berry had acknowledged as much, but she reacted defensively to Amanda's indictment. "I thought Oren would thank me for the call, and that would be the end of it. But apparently the only aspect of our conversation he heard was that Ben and I would be spending the day together. I'm terribly, terribly sorry."

"You've got a lot of reasons to be sorry."

"That's true, Amanda. But adultery isn't one of them. There's been nothing except friendship between Ben and me for a very long time, since before he even met you."

"I've told her that," he said. "She believes me."

Berry digested that, then, holding the other woman's judgmental glare, she said, "But you don't believe
me
?"

"I believe that Ben was faithful to me and his marriage vows. But I don't trust that you sent for him with only the campaign in mind. You left Houston, your daily office routine, your work, which by all accounts you thrive on. You left your friends, your social life, and came here to the boondocks.

"Last week you got bored and restless, so you invented a reason for Ben to come here and spend the day, and then the night, with you. You knew he would come because that campaign is so important to both your careers. But I think that was just the bait you used to lure him here. You needed some amusement, a diversion, a break from the humdrum of rural life. You needed sex, and you chose my husband to provide it."

"You're wrong," Berry said with emphasis. "I didn't lure Ben to the lake house for any prurient purpose." She paused for several beats, then added, "But I might have a few months ago."

The admission shocked them. Berry was shocked by it herself, but she continued. "Before I came to Merritt, if I had deemed it professionally beneficial or expedient to sleep with Ben, more than likely I would have devised a way to do so."

Ben was still staring at her, slack-jawed. Amanda looked smug and wrathful at the same time. "So you admit it."

"I admit that my priorities were out of whack," Berry said. "In order to move up the ladder at Delray, I was doing things I didn't like. To the point where I could no longer stand myself. I got out of Houston to avoid Oren, yes. But I also came here to get a new perspective. I'm as ambitious as ever. I still want to reach the top of my trade. I'm just no longer willing to sell my soul for it."