Quinn lounged on her parents’ front porch swing, dangling a leg over the side, eyes watching the door of Bo’s truck swing closed. She had to admit, she was getting used to seeing him every day. Today she actually found herself looking forward to it, wondering when he’d come, and how she’d feel when Simone returned and the daily ritual changed.
“You wanted to see me?” he said.
Quinn nodded. “We need to talk about Ruby. She’s convinced Roy killed Evie. Her plan is to wait for your guys to stop tailing him, and then to kill him.”
“And you believe her?”
“Ruby doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean.”
“Huh. Thanks for telling me.” He gestured toward the swing. “Mind if I sit?”
Quinn crossed her legs in front of her. Bo sat, looked her in the eye. “Ask me your questions.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been pressing me about what we know about Evie. Now’s your chance. Ask your questions.”
She sat straight up. “Really?”
“I’m not saying I’ll tell you everything, but I’ll tell you what I can.”
“What’s the catch?”
He shrugged. “There isn’t one. I got to thinking last night, and I realized something— my approach was wrong. I thought keeping you away would keep you safe.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel it’s best to keep you close. If I don’t, you’ll just run around getting yourself into all kinds of trouble.”
She smiled. “You’re probably right.”
“Oh, I know I’m right. I also don’t want you running to Kyle to get your answers. If you want to know something, I’d rather you ask me.”
What he really preferred was for Kyle not to exist. It was obvious.
“I ... thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. You do need to make me a promise though. From now on, if you go anywhere, do anything that involves Evie in any way, I want to know about it. I don’t care if it’s a text or a call. I just want you to tell me. Okay?”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“And one more thing. If we’re going to do this, you need to be honest with me.”
“I have been.”
He offered a sideways glance. “The gun you’re packing around. It’s yours?”
“It’s ... Evie’s. Are you going to take it?”
“You know how to use it?”
“I’ve shot at pop bottles with my dad since I was a kid. I know enough.”
“Keep it then.”
“Thanks.”
He held out a hand.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Since you’re so fond on shaking, I thought we’d shake on our new agreement.”
She ignored the hand, throwing her arms around him instead, pushing him down in the process, her body flattened over his. She planned to withdraw from the embrace, but he held her tight for a few seconds. It felt good, to be there, to be in his arms. It also felt wrong. He had someone else. She pushed back.
“Sorry ... I shouldn’t have,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s fine.”
“Let’s talk about Evie.”
“What do you want to know?”
“You might think Kyle told me everything last night, but he didn’t. When we were talking, he made the simplest comment. It stuck with me. He said the crime scene was clean.”
“Mostly.”
“What do you mean, mostly?”
“There was a shoe print found inside the house.”
“Different than Roman’s?”
“Different size, different kind. We poured Denstone over the shoe impression we found outside. It’s a runny substance, looks like pancake batter. It hardens over the impression. Then forensics takes it back to the lab for analysis.”
“And the other print—the one in the house?”
“Found it right inside, behind the front door. We think the killer was smart enough to remove his shoes when he entered the house, but one of his prints had already been tracked in. We lifted it with gelatin strips.”
“And?”
“Matched it to a men’s size eleven Adidas.”
“What size shoe does Roy wear?”
The answer seemed obvious. It had to be. And it was.
“Depends on the shoe. Sometimes ten and a half, sometimes eleven.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“He let us into his house the first time we stopped by to talk to him. Said he had nothing to hide. We checked all of his shoes. Most of his tennis shoes were Nike brand. We didn’t find a single pair of Adidas.”
“Of course not. He probably threw them away. What now?”
“The specific shoe we’re trying to match is older. It’s not sold anymore. We’re waiting on some vendor lists to see if we can track purchases in the area during the time the shoe was produced. I’ll be honest it’s a longshot.”
“If Roy lied about seeing Evie the day she died, he’s probably lying about everything else.”
Bo pressed his hands against the top of his jeans, stood. “Care to find out?”
“Do you mean together?”
“Like I said before, I’d rather keep you close.”