The First Wife (17 page)

His heart sank. It was too soon for another one. It’d only been since January. Less
than three full months.

Earl looked at him. “She left the keys in the ignition.”

“Yup.”

“And her cell phone, there on the seat.”

Earl had a habit of stating the obvious. Usually, it didn’t much bother him, but at
the moment it was bugging the crap out of him.

“What’d she do that for?”

Billy Ray didn’t answer, just went around to the driver’s side. “Look here, Earl,
door’s not shut tight.”

Earl stared stupidly a moment, then the color left his already pale face. His mass
of freckles stood out starkly against the white.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “This is like Amanda LaPier. And the other one.”

Two others, unless you counted True. Most folks didn’t, ’cause they were scared, but
Billy Ray had heard their whispers.

He turned to Earl. “Listen to me, Stroup, you are a sworn officer of the Wholesome
Police Department. If you’re going to work this case you damn well remember that.”

“Yessir.”

“You don’t talk about this with anybody.”

“Yessir.”

He looked terrified. Billy Ray remembered looking that way himself, once upon a time.
And his uncle giving him the exact same speech.

“This is a small town, and people talk. They ask questions. You just keep your head
down and do your job. None of that concerns you.”

“Yessir.”

“Now, go grab us some gloves. If you don’t have any, I’ve got extra in my console.
And bring me my camera, it’s there, too.”

Moments later, gloves on and camera hanging from a strap around his neck, he examined
the driver’s-side door panel.

“This could be nothing, Earl. But since this scene is so similar to the others, we
have to take every precaution.” He indicated the door. “When you got here, the door
was open?”

“I don’t know if it was open, but I didn’t touch it. Or anything else. Just waited
for you.”

“This doesn’t mean she didn’t go home with somebody. Dixie likes her beer and she’s
not shy, if you know what I mean.”

Earl nodded and Billy Ray opened the door the rest of the way. It didn’t hold and
tried to swing back shut. Billy Ray stopped it and pushed it until it set. He leaned
into the vehicle. It smelled of cigarettes and cheap perfume. Sure enough, the ashtray
was filled with butts, each of them with a red lipstick stain on the filter.

He shifted his attention to the floorboards. An empty Rockstar energy drink can, a
bag from the Sonic Drive-In, a couple of water bottles. Another Rockstar in the cup
holder. In the back, a change of clothes and a pair of sneakers.

He went around to the passenger side, to get a better look at her cell. Looked like
she had just tossed it there. He wondered who her last call had been to; if she had
been on it when the perp pulled up, made his offer?

He looked over his shoulder at Stroup. “I’m going to document the condition of the
vehicle and its contents. I’d like you to watch my every move, so if need be you can
verify my actions in court.”

Stroup opened his mouth, then shut it, obviously thinking better of whatever he’d
been about to say. Good thing, Billy Ray thought. Because he wasn’t in the mood to
justify his actions or play teacher.

He started snapping pictures. When he’d finished with the inside, he went around the
outside again, this time with the proverbial fine-tooth comb.

“It pays to be careful, Earl. I fully expect her to show up here with a hangover and
wearing last night’s panties, but just in case she doesn’t, we’ll have this.”

Earl nodded. “What’re you thinkin’ happened, Billy Ray?”

“What does it look like to you?”

“Like she was fixin’ to head home.”

“Good. What else?”

“Drunk as a skunk, no doubt.”

Again, Billy Ray agreed.

“She climbs in, gets the key in the ignition but doesn’t start the engine.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Earl drew his eyebrows together. “It’s got me guessing. Could be a
number of things.”

“That it could. But here’s what I think. Somebody calls to her or taps on the window,
something like that. Maybe one of her girlfriends, but most probably a guy.”

“That makes sense.”

“He asks her if she wants to party some more—”

“And of course, she does.”

“Right. So she climbs out of the Mustang and in with the guy.”

“Our Unsub.”

“You’ve been doing your homework, Earl.”

“Watchin’ TV, Chief.
CSI.
”

Billy Ray let that one pass. “She’s so wasted, she doesn’t even remember her keys
are in the car.”

“She’s holed up someplace, still sleepin’ it off. Or still partying.”

“That’s scenario number one.”

“And number two?”

“It begins the same way,” Billy Ray said. “Someone she knows calls her over to their
vehicle. Only this time, they force her inside.”

“I don’t see any signs of a scuffle.” Earl frowned. “There would’ve been plenty of
folks around to see her.”

Billy Ray nodded. “Unless she was last to leave.”

“Bartenders and waitresses are always the last to go.”

“Exactly, Earl. I want you to find out who was working the bar Friday night, and who
was serving. Your best bet would be giving Joe a call.”

“Yessir.”

“Joe runs a tight ship; my guess is he stopped in Friday, checked on things. Particularly
the till. If he did, ask him about it. Whether he saw Dixie.”

“What should I tell him?”

“The truth, but nothing more. That Travis is lookin’ for Dixie and her car’s in his
lot. Think you can do that?” Earl said he could and Billy Ray went on. “Tell him I’m
gonna need to have a look at the security tapes. If he knows anything, write it down.
You got your notebook?”

“And a pen.” He patted his shirt pocket and smiled, obviously pleased with himself.

“Good man. Call me the moment you’re finished.”

“What’re you going to do, Chief?”

“Have a talk with Travis. Try to get him settled down. By then, I’ll have heard back
from you.”

Earl nodded and started for his vehicle, then stopped and looked back at Billy Ray.
“You don’t think this is the same as those other times, do you? I mean, I went to
school with Dix. She was in my sister’s class, they used to hang out sometimes.”

“Course not, Earl. Dixie is sleeping it off someplace, thinking she’s found Mr. Wonderful.
But we’ve got to be sure it’s nothing else.”

Billy Ray watched as the young man climbed into his cruiser and started it up, before
heading back to his own vehicle. He slipped into the Ford, hesitated a moment, then
started it. He hated having lied to Earl, but the young man didn’t need to know his
thoughts, not quite yet. No one did. One step at a time. One piece of evidence after
another.

Build a case. Nail the bastard.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sunday, April 20

12:45
P.M.

Travis Jenkins was a hard man. A man who didn’t have the luxury of soft edges or sentimentalism.
He’d raised his three children without a wife while scraping out a meager living doing
whatever somebody needed done. He’d mucked out stalls and repaired fencing, painted
barns and delivered feed.

But he was scared. His eyes filled with tears. Those tears cut Billy Ray like a knife.
Accusing him.
Couldn’t he have done more? Couldn’t he have ended this before Dixie?

“Settle down, Travis,” he said. “We don’t know anything but that she left her car
in the Landing parking lot.”

“She loves that car. It’s her baby. Why would she leave it like that, the keys in
it?”

“You know Dixie, she likes her tequila and most probably had plenty of it. She wasn’t
thinking clearly. But I need
you
to think clearly, Travis. What else can you tell me about Friday night?”

“Not much. It was the same as every night. She was going out. Meeting her friends.”

“Did you argue?”

“We always argued. Hell, Billy Ray, you know that. Raised two others, but my Dixie,
she has her own mind.”

“Did she mention anyone in particular she was meeting?”

“A couple of her girlfriends. You know Katie, John Walton’s girl. And Lea Johnson.”

“Steve’s oldest?”

“Yeah.”

“What about guys? Was she seeing anyone? Romantically?”

He shook his head.

“Did she mention being at odds with anyone?”

“Just her sister.”

“Patsy.”

“Yes.” His eyes grew glassy with tears again. “For trying to mother her. Get her settled
on the right path. Now—” His throat closed over the words.

Billy Ray patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got to keep it together, Travis. We’ll
figure this out. Okay?”

He cleared his throat and nodded.

“I’ll talk to Patsy next, she might know something.”

“I called her. She hasn’t heard anything from her.”

“But she may know something and not realize it. Then I’ll talk to folks who were at
The Landing and saw her. Like I said, we’ll figure this out.”

Travis seemed to pull himself together. “And if she comes home? What do I do?”

“Hug her. Then call me.”

Travis tugged at the brim of his cowboy hat. “I’ll kick her ass, that’s what I’ll
do.”

And maybe he would, Billy Ray thought as he headed back to his cruiser, but only after
he hugged her.

Through the vehicle’s open window, he heard the crackle of the radio. He reached through
and grabbed it. “Chief Williams.”

“Billy Ray, it’s me, Earl.”

“Ten-four, Officer Stroup.”

For a split second, the other man went quiet. As if with surprise. Billy Ray climbed
into the cruiser. “You have that list for me?”

“I do. Talked to Joe. He said the surveillance video is ours anytime we want it. Ricky,
Elaine and Annie were on the bar, Bubba T at the door. Ricky opened at eleven, Want
me to go by, question him?”

“I’ll do it.”

“What do you want me to do now, Billy Ray?”

“You know, Earl, I got my promotion more than a year ago. I’m thinking you need to
call me Chief.”

His deputy was obviously taken aback. “Sure, Billy—Chief. Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“I know, Earl. Didn’t take it that way. Just figure we might need a little more formality
around here. Things being what they are.”

“Yessir, Chief.”

“While I follow up at The Landing, give the boys over at the sheriff’s office a call.
See if there’s anything new on Henry Rodriquez.”

“Should I tell them about Dixie?”

“Lordy, no. And have those know-it-alls climbing our frames? That’s the last thing
we need. Besides, there’s nothing to tell, not yet.” Billy Ray paused a moment, sorting
his to-do list. “When you hang up with them, give the lab a call, see if they’ve got
anything yet on the blood samples I sent over. And keep me posted.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Sunday, April 20

2:15
P.M.

Billy Ray sat at The Landing’s bar. Joe Cooper didn’t hire kids to run his business.
He didn’t need to. Lots of folks around Wholesome needed steady, good-paying work.
Seasoned professionals, Joe had told him once. Instead of putting the eye candy behind
the bar—the very heart of the money-making operation—have them wait tables.

Ricky St. James had turned thirty-five around the same time Billy Ray had. He had
a family to support. There’d be no messing with the till or offering free rounds from
him or his crew.

“Tell me about Friday night, Ricky. What time did Dixie show up?”

Ricky leaned on the counter. He looked tired. He’d brewed them both a cup of coffee,
and it sat on the bar in front of him, steam curling toward the ceiling.

“About nine. That’s the first time I recall seeing her anyway.”

“Is that her usual time?”

Ricky nodded. Sipped his coffee. “Things don’t get really cranked up until then. And
Dixie’s one of those stay-to-the-bitter-end girls.”

“And Friday?”

“Nope. Band was still playing and she was gone.”

“She leave with anybody?”

“Not that I noticed. Surveillance might show different.” He took another sip of the
coffee; Billy Ray noticed his hand was steady as a rock.

“What about while she was here? She spend a lot of time with one particular guy?”

“Again, not that I noticed. Friday nights are crazy.” He paused as if to search his
memory. “Saw her dancing with her friends at one point.”

“Names?

“Katie Walton and Lea Johnson.”

“Those her two BFFs?”

“It seems that way. They’re here together almost every night.”

“Anyone new in that night? Anyone you didn’t recognize?”

“Nope.” He drained his cup, then refilled it. “You probably want to talk to Bubba
T. Anyone comes through the door, he eyeballs ’em.”

“Anyone unexpected come in?”

“What d’you mean?”

“Folks you recognize from the community, but don’t come in much? Maybe ever. And suddenly
there they are?”

He frowned slightly. “Come to think about it, I was surprised to see one of the Abbotts—”

“Logan Abbott?” Billy Ray heard the excitement in his voice and knew, by the strange
way Ricky looked at him, that the bartender had as well.

“No, his sister. Raine.”

“Raine was in Friday night? You’re certain?”

He nodded. “With that fancy, foreign trainer. August something.”

Billy Ray could tell he wasn’t Ricky’s favorite. “Perez?”

“Yeah. They were together.”

“No kidding.” He brought the cup to his lips. “How was that?”

“Bizarre. They ended up getting in a fight.”

“Some folks can’t hold their liquor.”

“Exactly.”

“They leave together?”

“Yup.” He lifted the cup, then set it back down. “I kicked them out and suddenly they
were best friends again.”

“And you were the bad guy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No Logan Abbott, though?” When the bartender’s eyebrows rose slightly at the question,
Billy Ray added, “Come looking for his crazy sister or something?”