The First Wife

“This doesn’t mean she didn’t go home with somebody. Dixie likes her beer and she’s not shy, if you know what I mean.”

Earl nodded and Billy Ray opened the door the rest of the way. It didn’t hold and tried to swing back shut. Billy Ray stopped it and pushed it until it set. He leaned into the vehicle. It smelled of cigarettes and cheap perfume. Sure enough, the ashtray was filled with butts, each of them with a red lipstick stain on the filter.

He shifted his attention to the floorboards. An empty Rockstar energy drink can, a bag from the Sonic Drive-In, a couple of water bottles. Another Rockstar in the cup holder. In the back, a change of clothes and a pair of sneakers.

He went around to the passenger side, to get a better look at her cell. Looked like she had just tossed it there. He wondered who her last call had been to; if she had been on it when the perp pulled up, made his offer?

He looked over his shoulder at Stroup. “I’m going to document the condition of the vehicle and its contents. I’d like you to watch my every move, so if need be you can verify my actions in court.”

Stroup opened his mouth, then shut it, obviously thinking better of whatever he’d been about to say. Good thing, Billy Ray thought. Because he wasn’t in the mood to justify his actions or play teacher.

He started snapping pictures. When he’d finished with the inside, he went around the outside again, this time with the proverbial fine-tooth comb.

“It pays to be careful, Earl. I fully expect her to show up here with a hangover and wearing last night’s panties, but just in case she doesn’t, we’ll have this.”

Earl nodded. “What’re you thinkin’ happened, Billy Ray?”

“What does it look like to you?”

“Like she was fixin’ to head home.”

“Good. What else?”

“Drunk as a skunk, no doubt.”

Again, Billy Ray agreed.

“She climbs in, gets the key in the ignition but doesn’t start the engine.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Earl drew his eyebrows together. “It’s got me guessing. Could be a number of things.”

“That it could. But here’s what I think. Somebody calls to her or taps on the window, something like that. Maybe one of her girlfriends, but most probably a guy.”

“That makes sense.”

“He asks her if she wants to party some more—”

“And of course, she does.”

“Right. So she climbs out of the Mustang and in with the guy.”

“Our Unsub.”

“You’ve been doing your homework, Earl.”

“Watchin’ TV, Chief. CSI.”

Billy Ray let that one pass. “She’s so wasted, she doesn’t even remember her keys are in the car.”

“She’s holed up someplace, still sleepin’ it off. Or still partying.”

“That’s scenario number one.”

“And number two?”

“It begins the same way,” Billy Ray said. “Someone she knows calls her over to their vehicle. Only this time, they force her inside.”

“I don’t see any signs of a scuffle.” Earl frowned. “There would’ve been plenty of folks around to see her.”

Billy Ray nodded. “Unless she was last to leave.”

“Bartenders and waitresses are always the last to go.”

“Exactly, Earl. I want you to find out who was working the bar Friday night, and who was serving. Your best bet would be giving Joe a call.”

“Yessir.”

“Joe runs a tight ship; my guess is he stopped in Friday, checked on things. Particularly the till. If he did, ask him about it. Whether he saw Dixie.”

“What should I tell him?”

“The truth, but nothing more. That Travis is lookin’ for Dixie and her car’s in his lot. Think you can do that?” Earl said he could and Billy Ray went on. “Tell him I’m gonna need to have a look at the security tapes. If he knows anything, write it down. You got your notebook?”

“And a pen.” He patted his shirt pocket and smiled, obviously pleased with himself.

“Good man. Call me the moment you’re finished.”

“What’re you going to do, Chief?”

“Have a talk with Travis. Try to get him settled down. By then, I’ll have heard back from you.”

Earl nodded and started for his vehicle, then stopped and looked back at Billy Ray. “You don’t think this is the same as those other times, do you? I mean, I went to school with Dix. She was in my sister’s class, they used to hang out sometimes.”

“Course not, Earl. Dixie is sleeping it off someplace, thinking she’s found Mr. Wonderful. But we’ve got to be sure it’s nothing else.”

Billy Ray watched as the young man climbed into his cruiser and started it up, before heading back to his own vehicle. He slipped into the Ford, hesitated a moment, then started it. He hated having lied to Earl, but the young man didn’t need to know his thoughts, not quite yet. No one did. One step at a time. One piece of evidence after another.

Build a case. Nail the bastard.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sunday, April 20

12:45 P.M.

Travis Jenkins was a hard man. A man who didn’t have the luxury of soft edges or sentimentalism. He’d raised his three children without a wife while scraping out a meager living doing whatever somebody needed done. He’d mucked out stalls and repaired fencing, painted barns and delivered feed.

But he was scared. His eyes filled with tears. Those tears cut Billy Ray like a knife. Accusing him. Couldn’t he have done more? Couldn’t he have ended this before Dixie?

“Settle down, Travis,” he said. “We don’t know anything but that she left her car in the Landing parking lot.”

“She loves that car. It’s her baby. Why would she leave it like that, the keys in it?”

“You know Dixie, she likes her tequila and most probably had plenty of it. She wasn’t thinking clearly. But I need you to think clearly, Travis. What else can you tell me about Friday night?”

“Not much. It was the same as every night. She was going out. Meeting her friends.”

“Did you argue?”

“We always argued. Hell, Billy Ray, you know that. Raised two others, but my Dixie, she has her own mind.”

“Did she mention anyone in particular she was meeting?”

“A couple of her girlfriends. You know Katie, John Walton’s girl. And Lea Johnson.”

“Steve’s oldest?”