Seeing Red - Page 59

“Not about that,” she snapped. “About the earring.”

“Oh. Yeah, that was a lie. That’s how I explained having it. But the truth is that I found it out behind The Major’s house.”

Rendered speechless by that, she sat down on the edge of the bed and stared up at him.

He said, “When I left the hospital after seeing you Monday morning, I went out there to look around.”

“Weren’t crime scene investigators all over it?”

“Pretty much. But the sun hadn’t come up, and, besides, the sky was overcast. It started to rain, which soon turned to freezing rain. Everybody was wearing winter gear up to their eyebrows. I blended in with the diehards poking around outside. I found the earring in a patch of dead grass twenty yards or so away from the house.”

“How would it have gotten there?”

“You told Glenn you’re positive it was in an inside pocket of your bag.”

“That’s right.”

“Zipped in?”

“No. I put the earrings in a slot in the lining that doesn’t have a zipper.”

“And your bag doesn’t close at the top. I remember that from when you came to my office. The earring could have shaken out when whoever took the bag was running away from the house.” He tipped his head. “Conceivable?”

“Conceivable. But why didn’t you turn it over to the authorities?”

“Until I watched the interview and saw that you were wearing it then, I didn’t even know it belonged to you.”

“That’s flimsy, Trapper. You were at a crime scene and found something. You knew it wasn’t The Major’s earring. It should have been left where it was and brought to the attention of the investigators. You should’ve let them retrieve it.”

“That would have been proper procedure.”

“And we know what you think of that. You would also have had to account for yourself being there in the first place.”

The more he explained, the more he baffled her. She didn’t know what to believe and what not to. With seamless ease, he melded fact with fabrication and sarcasm with sincerity.

She had been with him enough times now to recognize the barriers he raised to hide a long-simmering anger and wounded pride. He also used his glibness and charm without shame. He could disarm with intimidation as well as with a wolfish grin, and she’d been susceptible to both.

“Did you discover any other evidence while poking around with the diehards?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t. But it’s the truth. If I had found something I deemed important to the investigation, I would have handed it over to the authorities immediately. I swear.”

She had to take him at his word. At least for the time being. “How do you think the culprits got away? Where did they go?”

“They believed The Major was dead. You had escaped, and they ran out of time to look for you, probably because they saw the TV van returning. They went out the back and skedaddled. They had left a vehicle a safe distance away, with or without an accomplice waiting behind the wheel.

“While your crew was freaking out, calling 911, and so forth, the bad guys were driving away undetected. There are lots of back roads and old cattle trails out there. You can get lost if you know where you’re going.”

He smiled at his own irony, then continued. “It was lucky for them that the rain didn’t come till after they were long gone, or there would’ve been footprints, tire tracks. Now an inch of sleet is covering any they might have left. If they’re eventually found, they’ll be so compromised, any punch they might have given a prosecutor’s case will be diluted.

“Lucky for you the production people returned when they did. If the perps had had time, they would’ve searched till they found you. You would have made an easy target from the drop-off above the creek bed.”

“I thought of that while I was lying there.”

“Did you see them, Kerra?”

Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery
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