CHAPTER 14
Later that night, I went back to the trailer, went to bed but hardly slept. I rose at dawn, walked Wilco, and sucked down three cups of coffee before heading into work. Fridays were doughnut day, so I headed toward the break room, thinking Parks would be there. I wanted info on Hughie’s arrest.
But Harris got to me first. “Got somethin’ that might interest you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that, Harris?”
He had a mug of coffee in one hand, a breakfast burrito in the other. Wilco sat at his feet, snout raised, drawing in deep breaths of spicy sausage, tangy green peppers, and milky eggs. “Tracked down the registration on the van that tried to kill you. Guess who? Kathleen Doogan. Augusta.”
My morning coffee curdled in my stomach. Stay calm. All he has is a name. Nothing.
Harris talked with his mouth full, yellow chunks of egg rolling between his tongue and teeth. A bit of egg came out, stuck to his lower lip. He brushed it off. Wilco snarfed it off the floor. “She’s married to Kevin Doogan. Your old boyfriend. Imagine that. Looks like you were screwing around with a married man.”
“You don’t know anything about it, Harris.”
“I know that he disappeared right after Costello’s place burned down. There’s still a warrant out on him.” He scrutinized me. “You’re still seeing him, aren’t you? That’s why the wife is out to kill you.”
“No.”
He raised his brows. “You’re lying. I can tell. You knackers are all about protecting your own, but that ain’t goin’ to happen this time, Callahan. You’re in this deep. I can sense it. And I’m going to find out how.”
* * *
Parks was in the break room, ripping open a sugar packet. She glanced up, gray shadows arched under her eyes. “Hey. Harris find you?”
“Yeah, he found me.”
She looked around, leaned in close. “What’s going on, Brynn? Harris’s talking about the hit-and-run driver and how she’s one of you and that you got a personal connection to her husband, the guy we got pegged for Dublin Costello’s murder. Heard him talking to Pusser about it first thing this morning. You got some sort of trouble, Brynn? You can talk to me. I’d understand.”
“I did have something going with her husband. Didn’t know he was married at the time. As soon as I found out, I broke it off.”
“You know about anything that happened between him and Costello?”
“No.”
“You haven’t seen him since then?”
“No.”
She emptied another sugar into her coffee and stirred. “Then why’s she coming after you now? After all this time?”
“Hell, I don’t know, Parks. She’s a freakin’ nutcase, that’s why. Who knows what she’s thinking?” Parks’s stare was hard. She held it steady for a couple of beats. Blood rushed through my ears; my throat tightened. There was a half-eaten doughnut on the counter. I picked at it. “What’s up with Hughie Black’s arrest? What do we have on him?”
“A witness placed him at the bar that night.”
“What? Who?” It was unlikely anyone other than a Pavee would recognize Hughie.
“One of the girls at the party that night. Nina’s her name.”
Of course she gave him up. Nina had a record for stealing. Cops coming around and asking questions would make her nervous. She felt vulnerable. Probably had a load of stuff in her little place, including that haul she had made just yesterday from the luau. It wouldn’t be hard for her to give up Hughie to save herself. “What’d she say?”
“She saw him when she was leaving to go home. He was lurking in the parking lot.”
Mo would have been in Walker’s vehicle out in the lot, making out heavy by then. “Just lurking? No argument or fight?”
“No. No report of fighting. Nina saw Hughie standing by his car out in the lot, waiting around for Mo. Their girls were in the backseat. He questioned Nina about Mo, and she told him that Mo had already left. He got back in the car and drove off.”
“You don’t believe her?”
“He could have caught up with them somewhere else later. Or could’ve doubled back. Found her there in the parking lot with Walker, gone off on him, killed him.”
“Where’s he at?”
“County lockup.”
Pusser walked in. I braced myself for an onslaught of questions about Katie Doogan but got something different. “There’s a woman up front. Says her husband’s missing. Could be tied into our case somehow. You two go talk to her.”
* * *
The woman was hunched over the conference table, filling out forms. A couple of flesh rolls filled the gap between a midriff shirt and jean shorts cut indecently low. In the chair next to her, a dirty-faced kid sucked his thumb. I caught a whiff of sour diaper.
Parks and I sat across from her.
“Deputy Parks, and I’m Deputy Callahan.”
“Kimber Bannock.” Her lips pressed into a thin line as she eyed Wilco, who was sitting between Parks and me. “That dog don’t look friendly.”
Neither did she: dark hair, hard mouth, a defiant stare.
I shot Parks a look. She was busy scribbling notes, her head down. I kept the conversation going. “You told the officer that your husband is—”
“Ex.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ex-husband. Reed. He comes every other Thursday to pick up the kid for the weekend. This is my weekend off, and he ain’t nowhere around. The lazy SOB has done this before. I’m sick of it.”
I looked at Parks again. “My partner probably gets that. She’s got kids of her own. Isn’t that right, Parks?”
Parks nodded. Then went back to her notes.
“Yeah? Then you know.”
“She knows what, Ms. Bannock?”
“How much of a pain in the ass they are.”
My eyes darted to the kid, who was wide eyed, innocent, too thin. He caught me staring, squirmed, and started whimpering. He reached for his mama and got his hand slapped.
“Stop fussin’, Noah.”
But he kept on. And Kimber grew still and dark, the quiet before the storm, a buildup of electric-like anxiety. I straightened; Wilco’s ears alerted. The boy sensed it, too, and came unglued, wails interspersed with little hiccup-like sobs.
Kimber slammed her hand down. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up . . . !” The words exploded from her mouth. Little Noah shrank back in his chair, trembling.
Parks came alive instantly. “Calm down. You’re scaring him.” She scooted closer to the kid, touched his hair lightly. Her maternal instinct filled the air with a palpable balm. The kid kept his head down, but his gaze angled up at Parks, and he soaked up her warmth like dry earth sponging up the first rain.
Wilco, never one to miss lapping up positive energy, leaned closer on Parks’s other side.
The mother snapped, “Don’t tell me to calm down. You don’t know nothin’ ’bout us.” She pushed back from the table, jerked Noah away from Parks, and stood.
I rose up and got in her face. “Sit back down, Kimber.” Wonder how this chick would like it if I picked on her like she picks on her kid?
She plunked back down and released the boy’s arm. Noah sat again, away from Parks, but shot glances her way. A lifeline had been cast, and I knew Noah inwardly clung to it.
I looked over her missing person’s form. “You didn’t put how long Reed’s been missing.”
“Well, he was ’pposed to pick up his kid on Thursday, but when he didn’t show, I called his work. He works over there at the Oil & Lube on Franklin. You know it?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, they said he ain’t been there all week, which makes me think he’s still up in that hollow. His boss probably fired his ass by now. And he made good money, too. I tell ya, if he don’t give me my child support, I’m going to start sellin’ some of that crap he’s got stored over at my place.”
“Hollow?”
“Lickhog Hollow. He spends most his weekends up there.”
I knew the area. Thick, dark woods; full of criminal types, mostly moonshiners and small-batch meth operators. Meth. Was that the connection here? “You heard the name Randy Silvas?”
“No.”
“Chance Walker?”
Kimber stiffened. “I don’t know any of these names, okay?”
“What’s Reed doing in Lickhog Hollow?”
“He’s an outdoorsman. Likes to camp and stuff. Probably takin’ a woman up there. He’s got a lot of women.”
A lot of women? Is one of them Mo? Could Hughie have gone after two men, both of whom were bedding his wife? I didn’t want to believe it, but—
Kimber sneered. “Just like him to do that. Gets whatever he wants from them women, too. A smooth talker.”
Yeah, well . . . maybe not now. Hard to smooth talk your way into the girls’ pants if someone’s cut out your tongue.