Southern Cross (14 page)

“If
you saw something…” I prompted.

“I
didn’t see nothin’,” she said quickly. “I was at work.”

“But
your brother or sister saw something,” Juarez guessed.

Casey
frowned. “I can’t have you upsettin’ them—Willa’s scared of men, and Dougie’s
got no love for suits. I can’t make ‘em talk if they don’t want to.”

“We
just need a few minutes,” Diggs said. “Please. This could literally be life or
death for Danny. Just let Erin here go in and talk to them.”

I
looked at him in surprise. “Me? Why me?”

“You’re
not a man, and you’re not in a suit,” he said. “And kids love you.”

“No,”
I corrected him. “Kids love
you
. Dogs love me. Kids spit up on me. Or
they cry. Usually, they do both.”

Casey
actually smiled for the first time since we’d arrived. “I can’t guarantee they
won’t cry, but they’re pretty much past the spittin’ up phase.”

The Clinton trailer was spotless—a hell of a lot cleaner than my place, that was for sure. The
kids were parked on the couch watching TV when we came inside. Casey looked at
me with a defiant edge to her eyes.

“I
know it ain’t much,” she said. “But we get by all right.”

“Clearly,”
I said. “You obviously take good care of them.”

“We
do okay.” She turned to the kids. “Dougie, turn off the idiot box and get in
here. I got somebody wants to talk to you.”

A
minute later, two pairs of eyes peered in from the other room. Casey waved them
in. I sat at the kitchen table. A box of generic Cheerios was out, alongside
two dirty bowls and an empty carton of juice. Casey put everything away while
the kids sat down.

“This
is Erin. She’s just got a couple questions. I want y’all to tell her whatever
you can.”

“You
from the State again?” the boy asked me with a frown. “’Cause we’re doing just
fine.” 

“She’s
not from the State,” Casey cut in quickly. “She’s here about Danny.”

“I
was wondering if you noticed anything strange last night?” I asked, diving in.

The
kids stared at me. The youngest, Willa—a little tow-headed girl with thickly
lashed blue eyes—plunged her thumb in her mouth and blinked at me, swinging her
feet under the table. Super. I was questioning Cindy Lou Who.

“We’re
afraid Danny might be in some trouble,” I continued, undeterred. “If you
remember hearing anything, or seeing anyone, it could help him a lot.”

They
looked at Casey. She nodded. “Go on—y’all won’t get in trouble. Just say what
you saw.”

“Danny
was in the garage,” Dougie said after another second’s hesitation. “I went out
and he showed me a couple chords—I know I was s’posed to be in bed,” he added,
looking at Casey. “I couldn’t sleep a lick, though.”

Casey
didn’t look pleased, but she waved him on.

“Me
and Danny got to talking,” he continued, “but then we heard somebody comin’. I
figured it was either you or daddy, but either way it didn’t mean nothin’ good.
So Danny told me to get in the cubby—where we keep the drums?” Casey nodded her
understanding. “We figured if it was you, Danny’d just smooth it over before
you knew I was there. And if it was daddy…”

“You’d
just hide ‘til he got in and passed out,” Casey guessed.

“Yeah,”
the boy agreed. “But it weren’t neither of you. It was some girl.”

“Did
you recognize her?” I asked.

“I
didn’t get a look at her,” he said slowly, like I was a moron. “I was hiding,
remember?”

“Did
you recognize her voice?” Casey asked.

“Nah,
but it was low—like she was being all slinky like they do on TV. She got Danny
to go on outside with her. I figured he’d only be gone a minute… but I heard
him start up the truck, and he never come back. I went on back to bed, and I
didn’t wake up again ‘til you got home and daddy took—”

Casey
stopped him with a killing glare. It was all right: I got the picture.

“Can
we back up for a minute? You said you heard him take the truck… but it was in
your father’s spot when he got back from work,” I said to Casey.

She
nodded. “He must’ve brought it back after wherever it was he went. After that’s
anybody’s guess. All I know is, I got back at one o’clock, Danny’s truck was in
the driveway, Danny was nowhere in sight, and my daddy was fit to be tied.”

I
turned my attention back to the little boy. “And you say you heard a girl with
a low voice talk to Danny, and he took off with her. Is that it? Did Danny say
anything to you?”

“Oh,
yeah,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “He said he was pretty sure somebody was
following him.”

“You
couldn’t have started with that?” Casey demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I
just remembered,” he said defensively. “He said he just got a feeling. And
somebody carved up on his truck.”

“The
cross,” I said with a nod. “Do you have any idea who might have done something
like that?” I asked Casey.

She
shook her head, but I noticed she avoided my eye this time. “Danny’s the kind
of guy everybody likes, you know? Especially the girls—but even the guys don’t
mind him so much. “

I’d
gotten good information from her, but there was still something she was holding
back. I pulled a business card from my bag. “Well, if any of you think of
anything else, just give me a call, okay?”

At the
door, just before we rejoined the guys, I stopped and looked around the house. 

“Is
it just you and your dad and the kids?” I asked.

“My
mama died in a car wreck a couple years back. But we do okay.”

“I’m
sure you do. But if you need anything while I’m in town… I mean, you know. To
talk or…” I trailed off, not even sure what I was offering. However awkward I
may have felt about it, Casey nodded with an unexpectedly shy smile.

“I’ll
do that. And could you call when you find out about Danny? He’s a pain in the
butt sometimes, but he plays a mean guitar.” A flicker of vulnerability touched
her pretty eyes. “It’d be hard to replace him, you know?”

I
agreed to keep her in the loop, and we parted ways.

<><><> 

When
we got to the police station, Agent Blaze had already commandeered a tiny
conference room in the back of the building to serve as headquarters. In
addition to Diggs and me, there were only the four agents—including Juarez—plus
Sheriff Jennings, Deputy Buddy, and a couple of other local cops, everyone
gathered around a cheap-looking conference table with a pitcher of water and
paper cups in the center. Somehow, Blaze still managed to lend a sort of
dramatic, official flair to the whole scene. She pulled Juarez aside as soon as
we were there so they could debrief each other, and I think I did a damned good
job of ignoring the way her hand lingered on his arm when she led him outside.
Or the fact that she was friggin’ gorgeous.

Stupid
super agents.

Diggs
and I took our seats, and before long Agent Allie took her rightful place at
the head of the table. Behind her, there was one of those nifty new computers
with the giant screen where you can just slide things around and make them
bigger with the touch of a finger. Much cooler than writing on the wall, which
is what Diggs and I always did in our meetings. Blaze cleared her throat, and
all eyes turned to her.

“Our
primary focus continues to be locating Reverend Jesup Barnel,” she began. She
touched a photo in the corner of the screen, dragging it to the center and
enlarging it: Reverend Barnel, in all his glory. “Our last confirmed sighting
of Barnel was last night at approximately twenty-three hundred, when he fled
the scene after his son, James Barnel, was killed.”

“You
make it sound like he was runnin’,” Jennings interrupted. “The man was
bleeding, and just watched his boy get gunned down. I asked him what I needed
to ask, and then I sent him on home.”

“Another
example of fine police work from the Justice brain trust,” Diggs murmured to
me.

Diggs
doesn’t murmur nearly as quietly as he thinks he does.

Jennings
’ eyes flashed, but Blaze shut him down with a look and
plowed on.

“Marx,
Jameson,” she said to the other two Feebs, “you’ll go with Sheriff Jennings to
the Barnel compound. Initial reports have indicated the entire camp has cleared
out. We’ll need confirmation, and I’d like you to do a sweep search for any
information on Barnel’s plans.”

Marx
and Jameson, a nondescript, fair-haired pair wearing standard-issue FBI suits,
nodded.

“Has
anyone spoken with Jenny Burkett?” Diggs asked. Agent Blaze looked at him
blankly. “The wife of the other victim—Roger Burkett. Burkett was alone at his
place when we found him, just him and his dog. The wife and the goats were
nowhere to be found. She’s the last person to see both Wyatt Durham and her
husband alive, as far as we know. There’s no sign of her?”

“She
dropped the goats off to Evie Raddick’s place day after Wyatt died,” Sheriff
Jennings volunteered. “Then she said she was leaving town.”

“And
you didn’t think to stop her?” Diggs asked. “She plays a key role in two
homicides.”

“Don’t
raise your voice to me,” Jennings said. “Jenny Burkett didn’t have anything to
do with this. I told her to get out of here while the gettin’ was good.”

“Brilliant
move,” Diggs said.

“We
all know who done this,” Jennings said. “Danny Durham—”

“Sheriff
Jennings, if you don’t mind,” Blaze said coolly. “I’ll handle this. We are
currently looking for Jenny Burkett, but so far we haven’t been able to track
her down,” she said to Diggs. “Trust me, we recognize the importance of
questioning her.”

“Thank
you,” Diggs said.

“And
now, if I may continue,” the agent said. She brought up a second picture. I sat
up in my seat, feeling Diggs tense beside me.

“We’ve
received information indicating that this boy is now a person of interest in
the Barnel shooting,” she began.

“He
didn’t have anything to do with it,” Diggs said.

“The
hell he didn’t,” Jennings said. He stood. “A crime was committed last night—two
good men were shot in cold blood, and y’all have been treating it like the
reverend’s the criminal here. It ain’t right.”

“Sit
down, Sheriff Jennings,” Blaze said.

“Yeah,
Harvey. Sit down,” Diggs said, cold as ice.

“You
keep your mouth shut, boy,” Jennings said. The table separated them, but he
looked ready to leap across it, body coiled tight. I eyed the gun in his
holster uneasily. “I got fifty people who’ll swear they saw Danny Durham’s
truck tearing away from the tent meetin’ last night right after those shots
were fired. You know as well as I do the kid’s got a temper. Everybody at his
daddy’s funeral heard him threaten the reverend.”

“Because
the son of a bitch was preaching the end times while he was trying to bury his
father, you idiot!” Diggs said, on his feet now.

“Enough!”
Blaze shouted, her voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Sit the hell down, or
I’ll toss both of you in a cell and you can sort it out on your own.”

They
faced off for a second more before both men sat. Blaze took a moment, her eyes
on both of them, before she continued.

“As I
was saying… Danny Durham is currently wanted for questioning in the matter of
the Barnel shooting. He was last seen at approximately twenty-two hundred
hours, here.” She pulled up a map of Justice, with a red X over Casey Clinton’s
house. Another red X marked Miller’s Field, where Barnel’s tent meeting had
taken place. “A truck matching Danny’s make and model was seen leaving the
Barnel shooting at twenty-three hundred hours. We recovered that truck this
morning, and it’s currently being analyzed for evidence. An inverted cross like
the one on the previous murder victims—Marty Reynolds, Wyatt Durham, and now
Roger Burkett—was found carved on that truck.”

  She
doled out assignments and dismissed everyone but Diggs, Juarez, and me. Once we
were alone, she shut down the computer, sat down, and looked at us.

“Ms.
Solomon, I’d like you to ride with Agent Juarez today. We have some members of
Barnel’s church that I want to interview, and it may help to have your
perspective on the responses.” In other words, I was being benched. “And Mr.
Diggins.” She looked at Diggs with an arched eyebrow. His jaw hardened. Diggs
really hates being called Mr. Diggins. “You’ll come with me. I’d like to go
back to the Durham house and speak with Danny’s mother, see if there’s anything
more we can get there.”

Diggs
frowned. “She’s already been questioned—Juarez just talked to her. Trust me, no
one there knows anything else.”

“They
may not realize they have information,” Blaze said evenly. “This is now a key part
of our investigation, whether you like it or not. Since you have a relationship
with the family, Mrs. Durham may be more likely to open up to you, which is the
only reason I’d like you along with me.”