When You Were Mine (Stone Lake 2)
“Did your contacts in Washington have anything new to add?” Kingston inquires, and I know he hates asking me that.
“Not really, we’re waiting on the examiner’s report. I’ve been going through the old files of the killer here in Stone Lake thirteen years ago.”
“And?”
“There were three main suspects. Me, and I sure as hell didn’t do it, Larry Richards, and Darren Oakes.”
“Well, of the three, if we subtract you, Larry is still around. He owns the textile plant at the edge of town. He’s an asshole, but I’m not sure I see him as a murderer.”
“That leaves Oakes.”
“He’s still in jail,” Kingston says.
“I’m afraid he’s not. He was released six months ago on early parole,” I tell him.
“Motherfucker, please tell me that son of a bitch doesn’t live in Stone Lake, and I haven’t known all this time.”
“Nope.”
“Thank God.”
“Not so quick. He’s in New Hampshire where his parents relocated after his arrest.”
“Not far enough,” Kingston answers.
“An easy drive for sure.”
“Well, fuck, what’s your plan of action?”
“I’m thinking of paying Richards and Oakes a visit.”
“You want some company since your partner is MIA?”
“If I say no, are you going to follow me and show up anyway?” I ask him and when he smiles, I know I pegged him right. Funny, I could almost like the son of a bitch if he wasn’t sleeping with Luna.
“Let’s get moving then,” I mutter, pretty sure I’m going to regret inviting him along before it’s over.
Gavin
“Well, if it isn’t Gavin Lodge. You clean up pretty good these days,” Larry says as we walk into his office. I thought he might have changed in the time I’ve been gone. I can see clearly that was wishful thinking.
“Larry, Gavin and I were hoping you had a few minutes to talk,” Kingston says, when it becomes clear I’m not going to respond to Larry. I didn’t like him in high school, and I have a feeling that I like him even less now.
“Sure, Ben. Pull up a seat,” he says. “You too, Gav’.”
“We’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”
“I’d appreciate that. You know what they say, time is money and all that jazz.”
“I take it the pro football career didn’t work out.”
I watch as his face tightens and maybe it’s a dick move, but I enjoy the look that comes over his face.
“Blew out my knee, but I can’t complain. Life’s been pretty good to me. How about you, Gav’? I must admit I’m surprised to see you hanging around with our Sheriff.”
“We’re investigating the murder of Skylar Johnson. I understand you two dated for a while.”
“I’m not sure you can call what we did dating and that’s been a couple years back. I’m a happily married man now. You ever get married, Gav?”
“Never did. When’s the last time you spoke with Skylar?” I ask him, determined to keep this conversation on the topic at hand and refusing to let Larry Richards get to me.
“About a week before she died. She came in here asking for a raise. Said she couldn’t support her kid on her salary. Offered to get down on her knees if I’d promote her—if you catch my drift. I’m wondering something, old buddy.”
“What’s that? And please, call me Agent Lodge.”
“What do you and our Sheriff talk about when you’re forced to work so closely together?”
“What to ask assholes we think might have murdered an innocent young woman,” I respond, deadpan, waiting to see his response. He blanches. I see the surprise cross over his face. That shocked him, he didn’t think he’d be a suspect. Interesting. That could mean he’s innocent or maybe he just thinks he’s too good to be caught.
“I don’t know who offed Skylar Johnson, but she was a long way from innocent. She made a lot of enemies. She slept around and she didn’t care if the men were married. If I were you, I’d be looking at some of the wives here in Stone Lake.”
“You’re speaking awful ill of the dead,” Ben says. When I look over to him briefly, I can see he’s studying Larry’s face. I wonder if he’s getting the same bullshit vibe that I am.
“I’m just stating the truth. Tell me, Gav, do you give the Sheriff pointers on how to handle Luna?” the bastard presses, smiling at me like a fucking fool. The old me would have planted my fist into his face. Instead, I keep my face blank and don’t show an ounce of emotion.
“You fucking—”
I put my hand against Kingston’s shoulder, keeping him in his seat when he would lunge at the idiot. That’s exactly what Larry wants, and I can’t let him play into his hands.
“What were you doing this morning, Larry?”
Kingston jerks against my hold, but he settles back down so I drop my hand.
“This morning?”
“Yeah, around ten to eleven this morning. What were you doing?”