Lost in Tennessee (33 page)

Butch’s gaze stayed on the ambulance as the doors closed and it pulled away. “I’m going with him to the hospital.”

“Then I’m going, too.” Kate held out her hand. “Give me your keys.”

“Honey, I’m not giving you my keys. Not now. Not later.”

“This is ridiculous. I drive faster.”

“Drive the speed limit,” Jeb said, sharply.

Kate rolled her eyes at Jeb. “Why can’t you be one of those renegade sheriffs?”

The crow’s feet at the corners of Jeb’s eyes tightened, hinting at laughter that didn’t reach his mouth. “Why can’t you be one of those compliant women?”

“Why can’t you—” Kate’s phone rang. “Hold that thought. It’s Tom. I’m putting him on speaker. What do you have for me, Tom?”

“Fingernails. Two pink fingernails. They were embedded deeper in the wall. Jeb, your deputy gave me the okay to call you while she finished working.”

Vindication a palpable thing, Kate bounced around, off her feet more than on. “You can’t still think it was me, Jeb.”

Jeb tracked her path with his whole head, his features softened. “I never thought it was you, Katie. Let’s be patient. They could be Fawn’s fingernails.”

Kate crouched down to look at Jeb’s face. “Can you run DNA tests or something to catch the bitch?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Jeb explained. “If we have two samples, we can tell if they match.”

Butch rubbed his thumb over his jawline. “So if you have a sample of Katie’s DNA, you can tell the nail-less bitch isn’t her?”

“Yes, but—”

“Sign me up, Jeb.” Kate leaped into Butch’s arms. “I want this to end. The faster, the better.”

S
aturday morning looked like any other day. Fawn Jordan’s death had temporarily shut work down but the project was recovering. The site had opened again, and the men on the crews were as eager to work the make-up hours as Kate was to have them made up. After all, no work, no pay. Kate and Tom modified their schedule and approach to leave the gallery until Jeb cleared it. The Cicada campaign to empower women changed opinions about the project. The Chicago office had received a hundred applications for work at the new place from local women. Interest in Fawn’s death waned. The number of reporters, fans, and fanatics had fallen off dramatically. Photos had surfaced of Fawn partying it up with a couple of surfers that were not her husband, and most of the people who had jumped on the bandwagon, jumped right back off. Kate agreed with Tom that Landon Finch likely had something to do with those photos…or at least the timing. Regardless of the how, Kate no longer had to create a monument for Fawn. She would always be part of this place, but she would be far from the best part.

Kate had left the door to her office open, not so much wanting to invite human interaction as needing to see her escape route. She had started with the door closed but squirmed under the pressure of confinement. She needed the door open and the light background noise that came with Tom and Waters going in and out to concentrate on her work.

Samples for the interior and exterior walls had come in. Kate sat at her desk and pored through the color palettes, finish, and texture options. Selecting the tactile elements of the spaces attracted Kate to architecture. She had explored the wonderful collection of spaces that New York City had to offer and, as she much as she could, had explored other cities, soaking up the way each building made her feel. For the ones she liked, and maybe more importantly, for the ones she didn’t like, she broke down the elements that created the feel. Her fingers ran over the samples, looking for the ones that said “Cicada.”

The trailer door smashed open. Kate jumped behind her desk and sent the collection of samples exploding across the small room. “What the fuck!”

Jeb stalked across the trailer with fire in his eyes.

Kate retreated until her back was pressed against the cold hard steel of the filing cabinet. “What’s happened now?”

“The lab results came back. He’s dismissing you as a suspect, Kate.” Jeb slapped the desk in triumph. “The prosecutor is looking at other possibilities.”

Kate stared at Jeb. She blinked twice waiting for the “but.” It never came. She let out the breath she held and turned her back on him when tears swamped her eyes. “I was so scared,” she admitted in a whisper.

“I know.” Jeb turned her into his arms. “I know you were. But you stood, straight and strong. You stood.”

“Clyde, you better have a damned fine reason for having your hands on my woman.”

Kate turned and jumped unabashedly into Butch’s arms. “Jeb got me off. They don’t think I did it anymore.”

The arms around Kate tightened until she could barely breathe. She pulled back and saw Butch looking at his brother with gratitude in his eyes.

The corner of Jeb’s mouth curled in a half smile, which was the equivalent of a big toothy grin on anyone else. “The facts stood for themselves. I just called in a few markers to help expedite the lab testing. The fingernails didn’t belong to you or Fawn. We got statements from people at the tradeshow and the restaurant bartender, and video from the gas station puts you out of the state at the time of the body drop.”

“I owe you one, Jeb,” Butch said.

Kate twisted her head to look at Jeb. “No, I owe you, Jeb. Thank you for believing me and believing in me. And you.” Kate looked back at Butch. “Thank you for putting up with me.” She kissed him, brushing her lips softly over his. “Thank you for taking care of me when I didn’t want it.” She kissed the corners of his smiling mouth. “Thank you for loving me.”

“What the hell? There’s no kissing on a construction site.” The surprise in Tom’s voice made it an octave too high.

Kate burst into a fit of laughter. “I’m not a suspect!”

Tom punched the door. “Hot damn!” He celebrated by kicking the desk, tossing a pile of papers in the air, punching Butch’s shoulder, spinning Kate in a quick circle, and heading for Jeb.

Jeb held out his hand, but Tom pushed past it.

“That’s not going to do it, Clyde. I could kiss you, man.”

Jeb shook off the hug. “I had a feeling there was more to that cooking-for-sex shirt than you let on.”

Tom laughed. “We need to celebrate.”

“There’s only one place to go to celebrate,” Butch said.

T
onight, Butch thought, they were going to drink until they couldn’t see straight, but first things first. Kate, Tom, and Jeb crowded into Hyde’s small hospital room. Jeb propped a hip on a low windowsill. Butch and Tom swiped chairs from empty rooms after Katie pulled the only chair in Hyde’s room close to the bed.

“So have you checked out your nurse?” Kate drummed her fingers over Hyde’s forearm.

He was in a coma. Half of his hair had been shaved off and replaced with a white, gauzy bandage. His cheeks were expressionless, making him look childlike in his sleep, as long, thick lashes lay in a dark crescent.

Kate tapped his arm as if waking him from an afternoon nap. “You are going to want to see her. Long legs, pretty face, nice tits. I know you’re a tit man.”

It warmed Butch to watch Kate try to bait Hyde into waking. “How do you know he’s a tit man?”

“Every man is a tit man,” she said. “And Nurse Betty has enough for three women.”

True enough, Butch thought. He didn’t know a man who would turn down a nice pair. He poked her with his foot, egging her on. “Her name isn’t Betty. It’s Elizabeth.”

Kate swatted blindly at him. “She looks at you, Hyde, when she’s taking care of you. She likes what she sees, I can tell.”

Butch poked at her again, grinning. “How can you tell?”

“I’m a woman. I can read the signs.” Kate swatted blindly behind her back, missing him by a mile. “You’re going to want to open your eyes, Hyde, and check her out. Oh, here she comes. Act natural.” She patted his hand.

Butch shook in quiet laughter when the statuesque brunette strode easily into the group of friends and made small talk while she checked on Hyde. She ended her routine by stroking back the remaining hair from Hyde’s forehead.

The minute the nurse left, Kate leaned in close again to Hyde. “Did you see that? Nurses don’t just run their fingers through all their patients’ hair. She’s got the hots for you. Open your eyes before Tom decides to nibble.” She paused. “Maybe if she kissed you?”

Kate lifted her gaze to Jeb. “Do you think this was an accident? Did Hyde just fall?”

Jeb straightened his shoulders. “Nothing says he didn’t. His injuries are consistent with the fall.” Jeb’s frown deepened.

“There’s a ‘but’.” Butch stood, stretching out legs that were suddenly restless. “Say what you’re not saying.”

“But he had Fawn’s car keys. Without a doubt, the keys that were found under Hyde are to Fawn’s rental car.”

Kate looked back at Hyde. “I wish you could tell us what happened. How did you get down there? There shouldn’t have been room with the rack down.”

“We noticed that, too,” Jeb said. “It couldn’t have been down when he fell. Somebody else was in that garage, even if he did fall.”

“Wait,” Tom said. “If they were after the keys, why didn’t they go down and get them?”

Kate fussed with Hyde’s blanket. “They wouldn’t if they didn’t know he had them or if they thought he’d put them somewhere else.”

“What if he found something else they did know about, and that’s what they took?” Tom jumped from the chair and paced. “I need paper. I can’t think without a pencil in my hand. What else could he have found? And where could he have found any of this stuff?”

Butch watched as Kate and Tom sank into the mystery of a puzzle. They attacked the question of Hyde with the same leap-frog approach they’d used on the concept for his house. Butch felt oddly proud of himself when he could contribute to the fast thinking. “Best guess at where is in a car. He is a mechanic.”

Kate narrowed her eyes at Jeb. “It wasn’t
my
car.”

Jeb didn’t change his expression. “We have his appointments for the day and are interviewing everyone. If it was anyone but y’all, I wouldn’t say this out loud, but we have to consider that we might have a serial killer on the loose.”

The thought of a killer being that close to Hyde filled Butch with a cold and sudden dread. Angie. Fawn. Who was next? He began to pace, moving because he couldn’t be still. “Jeb, what’s going on?”

Jeb inhaled deeply. “It centers on you. That’s clear enough. Somebody wants your ex-wives dead. Who in your life would want that? Ex-girlfriends, lovers?”

“Christ, Jeb. I was single longer than I was married to Angie or Fawn. I’ve had, uh…” Butch stalled, looking at Kate.

“A healthy sex life.” Kate said it without judgment, with full acceptance of his life. Then she frowned, furrowing her brows. “Maybe it’s somebody who wanted to be more than a girlfriend, more than a former lover.”

“Why kill them after he’s divorced?” Tom asked. “If it was somebody with designs on being the next Mrs. McCormick, why kill the ex-wives?”

“That’s a question, isn’t it?” Jeb stood. “I’ve drawn this out every way I can think of. Angie and Fawn. Tessa. Kate.”

“Me?” Kate said in a squeaky echo.

Butch stopped pacing to face his brother, fists curled tightly. “What do Tessa and Kate have to do with this?”

Jeb faced Butch. “Somebody planted Fawn’s body on Kate’s job site, timed when she was out of the area. Then your friend Hyde ends up with a cracked skull while holding a set of keys that matched Fawn’s rental car.”

Silence hung, broken when Jeb continued. “Let’s start at the beginning. Tessa died nearly six months after the divorce. When was the last time you’d spoken to her?”

Butch sighed heavily. “The day before she died.”

“How did I not know that?” Jeb ran a hand through his hair, growling the next question. “What did you talk to her about?”

Butch backed away from Jeb. He sat in a chair, pulling Kate into his lap and holding her as protection against an ugly conversation. “She had called me about a week before. She was building a new workshop, and the costs were going to be higher than she expected.”

Tom leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “She wanted money.”

Butch felt the judgement. It was theirs, it was his own. “I was still a partner in her art business. It made sense she’d call me.”

“Did you give her any?” Jeb asked.

“I didn’t have a lot to give. Finch had negotiated the record deal just after we split. The album hadn’t come out yet, but between gigging and help from Mom and Dad, I made ends meet. I told her I could spare a few hundred, but that was it. She had her heart set on this kiln. The day before she died, she called. I put a check in the mail. She never cashed it.”

“Who knew all this was going on?”

“That was a long time ago. Let me think. I was back here, living in my old bedroom when I wasn’t on the road. Mom and Dad knew. Finch knew. You were off somewhere, Jeb. Hyde and I hung together still. Trudy was around a lot; she probably knew. I’m sure Mom told people, you know how she is when they play bridge.”

“When did you find out about Tessa?”

“Her mother called me that afternoon. I met her parents at Tessa’s studio. I’ll tell you, Jeb, I’ve never seen anything like that. There was nothing left but cinders.”

“Jesus.” Tom sat at the edge of his chair, his head swinging between Butch and Jeb as though he watched a tennis match. Butch could only imagine what Tom thought of him. “How did the fire start? Weren’t there smoke detectors?”

After living these past weeks with the intellectual engineer, Butch should have expected his head was in the details. “She’d been working with the kiln open. The investigator suspected her clothes caught fire and, well, it was an accident. Sloppy and preventable but an accident.”

Jeb cut to the chase. “Did you profit from her death?”

“Jesus, Jeb.”

“Just answer the question, Butch.”

“Yeah. Finch had us take out insurance policies on each other, so there was money. It came in handy, too. Like I said, I borrowed from Mom and Dad to go on a tour Finch set up to coincide with the record coming out. That was where I was getting the money to send Tessa. I was going to come up short and didn’t know what I was going to do about it. With the insurance, I had enough money that I didn’t have to sleep on anyone’s couch.”