Read Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 Online

Authors: Lori G. Armstrong

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Suspense, #Brothers and sisters, #Women private investigators

Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (39 page)

BOOK: Shallow Grave-J Collins 3
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Using his charm to lure and then kill?

“I noticed the Bobcat over there by the barn. How long has the wheel been off ?”

His pale green eyes met mine head on. To JJ he said,

“Take Dougie and Stevie in the house.”

“But, Daddy—”

“Now.” He passed Dougie to JJ and the tiny boy clung to JJ like a bald monkey.

No further questions from JJ. He just trooped by, grabbing Stevie’s arm and hauling him inside.

When Jeff and I were alone, out in the middle of nowhere, I was mighty glad I’d pocketed my gun.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what, Jeff ? Trying to fi nd justice for a murdered woman, whose body was hacked to bits and buried in a shallow grave on your land? Oh, and then her remains were desecrated
again
and unceremoniously dumped in a stock dam like trash.”

He winced.

“Did you have that Bobcat hidden someplace when the sheriff came out here to question you?”

453

“He never came out here to question us. Every interview was done at the sheriff ’s offi

ce.”

Was that my fault? Because I’d been trying to pin Maria’s murder on Roland Hawk? Th

at was a mistake

I’d have to live with.

“You do know I’m working as an independent investigator for the Bear Butte County Sheriff ’s Department?

And if you don’t answer the question, I can take you in and have you talk to the sheriff ?”

“Yes.”

“So, was the Bobcat hidden?”

“No. It’s been sitting there since the wheel fell off .”

“When was the last time you used it?”

“Couple of months ago.”

“Let me rephrase that: When was the last time the Bobcat was used by
anybody
?”

His hand came up and he rubbed his forehead.

“Jeff ?”

“Th

ree or four weeks ago.”

“Jeannie?”

“Yeah.”

Mentally, I belted a shot of Don Julio. “Did you kill Maria Dove?”

“No.” Th

e pointed toe of his cowboy boot dug into

the hard-packed ground. “I was crazy about her.”

When he glanced up at me it seemed as if he’d aged 454

ten years in ten seconds.

I said, “Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

“Jeannie and I were separated. We’d been living in Gillette. I came home and found a job at a repair shop in Rapid City. I fi xed bikes for some of the Hombres members and started hanging out at Fat Bob’s. Th ose

guys said I oughta join up with the Hombres, so I did. I passed the initiation pretty quickly. It was the fi rst time I ever felt like I . .
. belonged
anywhere. I made it through the pledge ceremony.”

My thoughts fl ashed back to the faded T-shirt he’d worn the fi rst time I saw him at June’s, the letters LED

visible beneath his jacket. I’d bet he’d kept the pledge shirt as a memento from his past, looking upon it fondly like an old concert T-shirt.

“Part of the pledge initiation was working security at Bare Assets. When I met Maria, it was like I’d found the other half of myself.”

“Had Maria really talked about moving to Denver?”

He nodded. “Once I became a patched-in Hombres member, I planned to transfer to the Denver chapter and we were gonna live there.”

“What happened?”

“Two things. My dad died and then we had the whole mess with the ranch. June didn’t want to sell it, I did, and she didn’t have no money to buy me out, so I was stuck.

455

Th

en Jeannie showed up and told me she was pregnant.”

Jesus. Secret babies and jilted lovers; shit like this happened every fucking day, who needed to watch soap operas?

“I told her I’d support the kid but I wanted a divorce because I was gonna marry someone else.” His sour laugh nearly pickled my innards. “I even told Jeannie Maria’s name. Can you believe how fucking stupid that was?”

My mouth had gone bone dry.

“Maria and I had a fi ght after I told her about Jeannie being pregnant. She said some dumb shit about never seeing me again. I gave her a couple of days to cool off . Th

en she disappeared. I thought maybe she’d taken off for Denver, like we’d talked about. It wasn’t like I could call up her folks and ask, and Maria didn’t have no friends. After a couple of months, I knew Maria wasn’t coming back and Jeannie had JJ, so I married her.

“I swear to God I didn’t know. All these years she was right there . . .” He shook his head as if he were trying to get the idea to stick in place. “Something started to bug me when the hunters found them bones. Th en

Lang died. Somebody dug that hole and made them bones disappear. I noticed the wheel was off the Bobcat, like it’d been sittin’ there broken for months. Only I knew it hadn’t been broken.”

“Did you have any idea what Jeannie had been up to?”

456

“No. Lang wanted to do the right thing and it should’ve tipped me off back then when Jeannie argued the loudest we should forget about it. Th

en Maria’s name

was released. And I knew.

“So here’s the truth hittin’ me in the face. I look at my little boys . . . and I don’t know how I can tell them what kind of evil she is. She’s their mother. She’s my wife.”

“Jeff —”

“Not only that, I’m pretty sure Jeannie killed my sister.”

“How?”

“I found June’s cell phone in Jeannie’s jacket pocket this morning. I know June had her cell with her when she died because she’d called me that afternoon from the bluff . Drunk. Saying she knew Jeannie was a cold-blooded killer. And if I didn’t tell the sheriff ’bout her murdering ways, she would.”

What the hell? “June knew you were seeing Maria?”

“Yes.” And then he broke. Th

rough his heartbreak-

ing sobs, he stammered, “If it’s not b-bad enough she f-fucking murdered my sister, she’s actin’ all happy, like now we c-can move into their house, get their share of the land, get the insurance money, like it’s some goddamn . .
. b-blessing
instead of a horror show.” Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. “I just wanna wake up from this nightmare. But I have, and I realize I been married to 457

the monster all along.”

I couldn’t off er him any kind of comfort. I struggled to maintain a professional distance, even when my heart hurt for the ugly reality he’d faced and the horrors yet to come.

I waited to speak until he had some semblance of control. “I have to take you in, Jeff , so you can tell this to the sheriff . You do realize there’s no way around it?”

He nodded.

“Where is Jeannie now?”

“She went to Wal-Mart in Spearfi sh.” He lifted his head. “I can’t leave my boys here. I got no one to look after them.”

“Would it be better if I called the sheriff and had him come out here?”

“Yeah. Jeannie’d get suspicious if I wasn’t home anyway. She don’t trust me, always thinks I’m up to something. Ain’t that ironic, when she’s the one . . . ?”

He choked and couldn’t fi nish.

Th

ere was that overwhelming urge to run again. “Is there anyone I can call? Maybe your uncle?”

He shook his head.

I dug my cell phone out of my right rear pocket and called Sheriff Richards.

M M M

458

Sometimes things play out that way. No big confrontations. No AHA! moments. Jeff talked. Th e sheriff

jotted notes. When Jeannie Colhoff pulled up and got out, and Sheriff Richards approached the vehicle, she dropped the bag of frozen chicken nuggets and took off across the fi eld.

I don’t know what possessed me to give chase and tackle Jeannie, but I did. It felt goddamn good to grind her face in the dirt and listen to her cries as I waited for the sheriff to catch up. He cuff ed her and read her the Miranda.

Jeff hadn’t allowed let his sons watch their mother get taken into custody. I don’t know if I could have acted so selfl essly, given the circumstances. Just another indication I’d be a lousy parent.

As I drove home, I didn’t get a sense of victory that I’d solved the case the sheriff had hired me for. I felt absolutely heartsick. Why was jealousy called the green-eyed monster? It should be called the red-fi sted monster, because of the rage and blood that follow in its wake.

After the epically awful day I’d had, I didn’t want to talk to anyone so I shut off my cell phone. I just wanted to curl up in my bed, alone, with a bottle of anesthetic.

Tequila couldn’t erase the bad images but I’d settle for blurry. Really blurry.

459

In my state of distraction, I didn’t notice the vehicle in my driveway until I’d nearly rear-ended it.

Kevin paced on my front steps, waiting for me. He enfolded me in a hug I didn’t know I’d needed. Tears poured out as the emotions I’d held in all day exploded like a dam breach.

460

Kevin and I didn’t talk.

I drained the remainder of the Don Julio. I panicked when I realized I was out of booze, a clear sign I was far too dependent on the tasty stuff . But I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my future membership in AA. Getting drunk tonight wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity.

Kevin lined up the remaining treasures from my liquor cabinet. Ooh, choices, choices. Peppermint schnapps? Rum? Jack Daniels? I decided on the Jack.

Th

e hangover would be minimal. Mixing the whiskey with soda caused blood sugar problems so I drank it straight up. I chased the shots with beer. My stomach acid did a fi ne job churning the contents into an accept-able boilermaker.

I hadn’t eaten all day so the booze hit me quickly.

461

I smoked and drank. Kevin alternated between watching me and
Star
Trek
reruns. What seemed like 100

shots later, I was totally shit-faced. Th

e room tilted. I

welcomed the wavering eyesight and the way my body started listing to the left. I snickered.

“Hey, now I’m off balance inside and out.”

“Jesus. You’re babbling.”

“So?”

“So, enough booze already,” Kevin said and heaved himself out of the recliner.

I squinted at him as he cleaned up the empty beer bottles and dirty shot glasses. “Are you leaving?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Just wanted to say goodnight before I passed out.”

“How considerate.”

“You’re welcome.” Even in my blurry state I could see he had that look. “What?”

“Do you want me to call Martinez?”

“Why?”

“So he’s here to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit.”

I got my mean on. “I’m not exactly a lightweight, Kev.”

“True. But you’re getting a little old to do this.”

“To do . . . what?” I threw my arms out. “Too old to fi nd a dead body gnawed on by rabid dogs? Too old to 462

sit in the waiting room while my friend bawls her head off because she might be losing a baby she didn’t know she wanted? Too old to watch a man realize the person he pledged his life to has purposely destroyed damn near everyone he loved? Too old to lose the last goddamn link I have to Ben?”

I closed my eyes.
Don’t cry. Don’t be a fucking cry-baby.
Jesus Christ, suck it up, Julie
. I was sick of crying.

My tear ducts didn’t appreciate being berated; moisture leaked out anyway.

“So, yeah. I feel every single minute of this awful day sinking into my bones like poison. It’s making me old. It’s eating me alive. It’s sucking my will to do anything but suck down liquid courage so I can go on for yet another sucky day.”

Kevin didn’t respond. Good. I’d shamed him into silence. Th

e drama that’d become my life in the last week
was
getting old.

“Jules—”

“Go home. I’ll be fi ne. I’m a tough girl, remember?

I don’t need anyone. And if I wake up in a puddle of cold barf tomorrow morning . . . well, you can’t say you didn’t warn me.”

No argument from him. He just kissed me on the forehead and left.

I tottered off to bed and passed out.

463

M M M

I woke up feeling like shit. Martinez breathed deeply in my ear. He’d wrapped his big body around me like a 200-pound blanket. Huh. I didn’t remember anything from last night. Did we have sex?

Clouds of steam and the pounding spray of hot water beating on my face in the shower stall helped my hangover. A half pot of strong Columbian, and four Excedrin helped the rest of the way into making me human.

What fun thing could I do today? Track down Abita and demand she keep her life the way it is to suit mine?

Go to the sheriff ’s offi

ce and rehash the brutal realities

of the Dove case? Crash June’s funeral? Check on Kim and have her grill me about something painful from my past that wasn’t any of her damn business? Ask my lover if he’d murdered a man?

My dismal list of choices brought back my sense of futility.

Th

e cupboard door squeaked. I automatically

smiled at Martinez, but it dried up when I remembered I’d have to ask him about Roland Hawk. Specifi cally if he’d
killed
Roland Hawk.

“You don’t look hungover,” he said.

“I am. What time did you roll in last night?”

464

“Early. Shortly after Wells called me at Fat Bob’s.”

“Kevin called you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “He was worried about you.”

My eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a goddamn baby-sitter, Martinez.”

“No kidding? Well, I guess I’ll pack up my toys and go home.” He disappeared from the kitchen.

Yeah. I’d handled that with tact. I followed Martinez into my bedroom.

He gave
me a fl inty-eyed stare as he yanked on a Deadwood Jam T-shirt. “What?”

“I’m an asshole, okay? I’m sorry.”

In two quick strides he loomed over me. “Th at was

a record apology for you, blondie.”

“Don’t get used to it.” I studied his dark eyes. “I have to ask you something. I don’t want to but I have to.”

BOOK: Shallow Grave-J Collins 3
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