Chapter 4
Tucker
“Where the hell have you been?” Damien jogged over to me when I reached the bottom of the hill. “I’ve been running around the woods aimlessly for half an hour looking for you.”
“Sorry, I was…” I glanced back up the hill at the rundown house. I was what? Flirting with an innocent civilian? Not exactly. I hadn’t been flirting. I was simply questioning her. And she definitely wasn’t innocent. That woman was hiding something. I’d bet my badge on it. Not that such a bet would mean much...I was about to lose my badge anyway.
“You were what?” His breath was ragged from running.
I didn’t want to talk to him about the woman I had just met. He’d ask me too many prying questions and joke around about why it took me so long to question her. Besides, she was clearly married. And my number one suspect. I just wasn’t sure why neither fact made her less appealing to me. “Aw, Torres, were you worried about me?” I patted his shoulder and kept walking through the woods.
He caught back up to me. “No. These woods just give me the creeps. And it doesn’t help that there’s an escaped psychopath somewhere in the vicinity. Seriously, don’t take off like that.”
I could have kept teasing him about being worried. But I was glad someone had my back. Because no one else in this town did. “I’ll tell you next time I’m about to follow a lead.” I ducked under a branch.
“A lead? What lead? You weren’t even briefed yet.”
“A neighbor saw the woman who lived in the house run into the woods. I thought I might be able to catch her.”
He tugged the zipper on his coat higher. “No wonder I got the creeps walking out here by myself. One crazy woman on the loose is bad enough. But two? Let’s get the hell out of here.” He picked up his pace.
“What do you mean two? Are there two suspects?”
“Nah, I was just referring to Violet. I’d stay out of these woods due to her alone.”
“Who’s Violet?”
“Sometimes I forget you’re not a local. The crazy woman on the hill.” He gestured behind us.
The crazy woman on the hill? I glanced over my shoulder at the hill, but I could barely see it in the darkness. “You mean the one who lives in that dilapidated house?”
“Don’t tell me you met her?”
“I thought she might be the arsonist. There were footprints leading from the crime scene practically to her doorstep.”
Damien laughed. “She rarely leaves her house. Pretty sure she’s scared of germs or something. She’s a total nut-bag but not an arsonist.”
“Are you sure it’s not the same person? Her hair was wet. Maybe she had just dyed it. She fit Sally’s description otherwise and…”
“Who the hell is Sally?”
“That nosy neighbor at the crime scene.”
He shook his head. “And you believed the observations of a bored housewife?”
“Sally was a very credible source.” She wasn’t. She was exactly how Damien described her, only more of the gossipy variety. She had been fishing for information more than offering anything valuable. I was pretty sure she was already spreading rumors of Benjamin Harlow being a polygamist.
“Well I’m a more credible source than your new friend. And you’re barking up the wrong tree with Violet.”
“But she lied about seeing something. I think if we go back and question her again she’ll…”
“No need. We’re off the case.”
I stopped on the edge of the woods. “What do you mean we’re off the case? I already have a lead.”
Damien kept walking back toward my car. “There are no leads. Not for us anyway. I did what you wanted, we get to go have that drink now.”
“Well undo it. I really think we should go question…”