Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (34 page)

“What warnings?”

“BD Hoffman for one.”

Guilt put color back in her freckled cheeks. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

352

“No, you thought what you were doing would elicit the ‘Trish Collins is a model Christian woman’

comments from the church congregation.”

She winced.

I didn’t care about her discomfort, and I didn’t stop hammering her. “Who would Brittney talk to if Melvin Canter touched her inappropriately?”

That sick realization distorted her face. “I thought she’d talk to me.”

“Not if you’d been reminding her again and again to be extra nice and extra helpful to Daddy’s new hired hand.”

She winced again.

“She’d avoid talking to you if you were piling on the guilt about maintaining a Christian attitude toward Melvin, no matter what. So who else would she talk to? DJ?”

“Maybe.”

“She wouldn’t talk to Dad, would she?”

Trish shook her head.

“A teacher? Her best pal, Shelby?”

“No.” She squinted at me. “What did she mention to you? Because if you’re trying to protect her—”

“At least someone would be.”

She covered her hands with her face and sobbed.

I let her cry. Out of spite? Probably. But I’d been Brittney’s age when Dad began hitting me on the sly. I hid it from my mother because I’d been ashamed.

What if Collins history repeated itself? I imagined 353

Brittney’s situation would be different because she had a protector in Trish. But Trish was as clueless as my mom had been.

And why didn’t I resent Annika Collins for that?

Because the childish part of me believed if she’d lived she would have stopped it? Yes. We all had our delusions about our past and that one was mine.

“What did Brittney say to you?”

“She said Dad’s hired man creeped her out. It felt like he was watching her all the time. Then she said neither she nor DJ felt comfortable doing chores with him around. But they couldn’t say anything to you.”

Trish dropped her chin to her chest. “Stop.”

She wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. “If either of them made a negative comment, you’d reprimand them, and make them both say a positive thing about Melvin.” I inhaled and exhaled. “Is that really how you want it to be? Your kids telling you what they
think
you want to hear? Instead of them thinking for themselves?”

“No wonder Doug was so livid. I totally screwed this up.”

Zero disagreement from me. “Let me ask you this: what would Doug do if he found out Melvin was a molester?”

“Kill him.” When she realized what she’d said, she amended, “I meant—”

“You can’t take that back, Trish. But I will remind you that you swore to me Doug didn’t do this.” She 354

opened her mouth to protest and I held up my hand.

“No qualifications.”

I wasn’t asking her to submit to a philosophy I, myself, hadn’t embraced. Tony was a man who did bad things. I accepted that was as much a part of his nature as the part of him I saw that no one else did.

There was no qualification for me either when it came to how I felt about him.

Heavy silence.

“What do I do now?”

“Dad needs to tell you how he found out about Melvin. You need to demand to know why he didn’t share the information with you.”

She thrust a hand through her unruly hair. “Does it matter? Will you share your findings about Melvin Canter with the sheriff? It’s apparent he doesn’t know.”

I doubted it. Sheriff Richards was probably bid-ing his time waiting for me or someone else to make the connection.

“What if
your
suspicions land Doug in jail?”

“Whoa whoa whoa. How would
I
be responsible for Dad being in jail if
he
killed a man?”

Trish ignored my logic. “Because you’re supposed to be finding information to exonerate Doug, not incriminate him!”

I was tired. Tired of the drama. Tired of the games. Tired of the shitty things family members did to each other, especially in my family. I could feel 355

myself sliding toward the babbling phase from sleep deprivation. I managed, “Go home.”

After she left, I gazed out the screen door in the kitchen, swigging Don Julio and eating Ritz crackers, staring across that mantle of endless snow, my warm breath fogging up the cold glass, letting the alcohol lull me into thinking everything might turn out all right.

356

The next morning the remnants of my self-appointed sacramental communion lingered; I was hung over as hell.

“Really. Would anyone miss me if I didn’t go into the office today?”

Surprisingly enough, the coffeepot didn’t answer.

I sighed. At least if I had a dog it’d bark a response.

Right. Human companionship on a regular basis was a must if I actually considered a canine an alternative.

Cold Hard Bitch
by Jet serenaded me from the home theater speakers as I readied for another workday. The music wasn’t too loud; I still heard the thumps on the screen door. I turned the stereo off and checked the peephole. Don Anderson.

I ushered him inside. “Surprised to see you, Don.”

357

He saw my coat and gloves on the back of the couch. “This a bad time?”

“I’m headed into work, but I can talk to you first.

What’s up?”

“I’ll make it quick. You went to see BD yesterday afternoon?”

“How’d you know?”

“BD called me last night. Said some woman barged in and was askin’ questions ’bout Melvin Canter and he spilled his guts to her on that nasty business from years ago. Said he never caught the woman’s name. So it was you?”

“Yeah.”

Don’s shoulders slumped. “Good.”

“Why the relief?”

“Look, I doan want you to think we was lyin’ to you when we said we’d help with your investigation, but we, me an’ Dale, but me mostly, got what you might call a vested innerest.”

I pointed to the easy chair. “Park it and start explaining.”

He wiped his boots before he sat down. “Lemme say that I wasn’t involved in runnin’ Canter outta town them years ago, but I knew the guys who’d done it.

BD’s dad, JR, Maurice Ashcroft, Buck Bevel, Red Granger, Clint Jenson, and”—Don looked at me—

“Dale Pendergrast.”

Don had come to me months ago during a case because he was worried his best buddy, Dale, had killed 358

a man. Ultimately Don had been wrong, but it didn’t change the fact he thought Dale capable of murder.

“JR, Red, and Maurice are all dead. Buck turned the business over to his son and moved to Arizona.

Clint’s still around, up at the VA. So’s Dale. After that business with the preacher’s daughter was shunted aside, Dale quit goin’ to church.”

“Can’t say as I blame him.”

“Well, you know how Dale is. He was more of the

‘eye for an eye,’ and he wanted to make Canter disappear permanently.” Don’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously. “Which is why I wanna assure you that Dale din’t have nuthin’ to do with Canter endin’ up dead.”

“You thought Dale might’ve been a murderer just last summer. Now you’re telling me he’s changed?”

“No. I’m tellin’ you in confidence that he ain’t strong enough to’ve killed nobody unless it was with a gun.”

“I can’t say as I disagree. So, back to BD. One thing I didn’t ask him, because I didn’t want to increase his suspicions of me, was the preacher’s name.”

“Why’s that important?”

“I don’t know if it is, but I want to be thorough.”

“Shoot. His name . . .” Don tapped his chin.

“Newman. Patrick Newman. Daughter . . . Lizzie?

Something like that. Anyway, Dale and his missus spent November, December, and January travelin’, and he din’t know Doug’d hired Canter until two weeks 359

ago. Dale paid Doug a visit right away and told him the whole story. Doug was ticked, rightly so, and that’s when he confronted Melvin outside Chaska’s.

Apparently, that’s why they had the fistfight.”

“Does Trish know any of this?”

Don shook his head. “Doug said to keep her out of it and that he’d handle it.”

“Seems to be a theme because BD tried to tell Trish what he knew of Melvin’s past and Trish wouldn’t listen to him. But BD said he tried to tell my dad, too, and Dad accused BD of making problems.”

“Doug’s a stubborn cuss, but I doan gotta tell you that.”

“No. But you mentioned a vested interest. I’m not seeing one.”

He twisted his gloves in his hands. “Dale doan know I came to you last summer with my worries about him and Red Granger. He doan know I’m here now.

This thing with Canter needs to be made right, and I figure you’re the only one who can do it.”

“Dale disagrees?”

“He thinks you got it in for your daddy so bad you’ll do anything to see him behind bars.”

I kept quiet. Arguing wouldn’t change a damn thing. “What else?”

“Well, BD is afraid you’re gonna track Beth down and ask her a buncha questions. He said he’d try to keep Beth away from you for her own protection.”

“Did you tell BD my name?”

360

He snorted. “No. I do have some evasive skills.

But I will say one thing, and you can take this however you want. Why’s that little gal need BD’s protection?

What’s she have to hide?”

I clapped him on the shoulder in a show of solidar-ity, because I’d been thinking exactly the same thing.

“Great minds, Don. I was wondering that, too. You’d make a fine investigator.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I just hope you don’t use your evasive skills on me.”

“If I was really good, you’d never know, would ya?”

I smiled at his sly grin. “Got me there. Lemme ask you something. How old do you think Beth is?”

“Somewhere around thirty to thirty-five, which was why I couldn’t understand why BD was protectin’

her.”

“She’s not married?”

“Nope. She’s divorced. Doug made a big deal out of her marital status I guess, durin’ that hullabaloo at the church.”

“Thanks for the info. Let me know if anything else pops up, okay?”

“Will do.”

If nothing else shook loose at the office, at least I had three names—Patrick Newman, Lizzie Newman, and Beth McClanahan—to run through the database.

361

Kevin showed up an hour after I did.

Much had happened in the last five days and I couldn’t tell him squat. I expected him to be standoff-ish; I wasn’t expecting him to envelop me in a big hug.

“What was that for?”

“Because I missed you, dork.”

“Missed you, too, doofus.”

He sidestepped me and plopped in the buffalo skin chair. “I tried to call a couple of times. Something wrong with your cell?”

“No. Martinez and I were out of town and I forgot my charger,” I freely fibbed. “I wanna hear every juicy detail about what crazy fun things you did in Capital City.”

“Nothing besides ice fishing.”

“What?”

“I went ice fishing.”

“You don’t ice fish.”

Kevin leveled his gaze at me. “Yes, I do.”

“Since when?”

“Since always. You don’t know everything about me, Jules.”

What the fuck was going on with the men in my life and their undisclosed love of winter sports?

Martinez—skiing? Kevin—ice fishing? Would 362

Jimmer confess he was a closet pairs figure skater? I could scarcely wrap my head around the hidden sides of these men I thought I knew so well.

“Anyway. I needed time to clear my head.”

“About?”

“The business.”

“What about it?”

“It’s been too slow. We need to expand. With two of us . . . I’m thinking of trying our hand at bond enforcement.”

I blinked. “Like chasing bail jumpers and beating them up and shit?”

“Yeah.”

“I am so totally all over that.”

He sighed. “I thought you would be, so that’s why
you’re
not going to do it. I am. Besides, half the guys we’d be after probably are associated with your criminal boyfriend.”

“You’re fucking hilarious.” But it explained why Kevin had started bookmarking sites dealing with that skip trace stuff.

“I also had time to think about Amery.”

“I take it she wasn’t with you?”

“No. I went alone.”

Kevin didn’t sound particularly happy about that.

“Tell me something. Are you two officially broken up?”

“Wasn’t like I asked her to go steady and demanded back my class ring when she stopped calling me.”

363

Probably unproductive to point out Amery was young enough for the scenario to be true. “You know what I mean. Are you?”

“Why?”

“Are we still working for her?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should rephrase that: are
you
working for her?”

He slouched in the chair and scowled at me. “Why the clarification?”

I smiled sweetly. “Why the evasion?”

“Touché. No, I’m not working for her. I’m not doing anything with her.”

“Good. I didn’t know how to bring this up, but guess who wants to hire me?” He lifted his eyebrow.