“Wood –”
His face dipped close and his other hand curled into my waist. “Her name was Bethany, Chief of Police’s daughter. Caught Tate’s eye when he and Neeta were supposedly through, one of the many times they were off. Bethany, though, even though she knew it, lived it like the rest of us, she hoped. It was stupid, everyone knew it was. Tate hooked up with Bethany, they got tight and Neeta blew back into town. She wasn’t back a day, not even an hour, Laurie, before they were at each other. Bethany found out and slit her fuckin’ wrists.”
I sucked in a harsh breath and pulled back against his hand but it just tightened so I stopped.
“No,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he returned. “Her Dad found her and she survived. Moved to Colorado Springs. Neeta got a wild hair and quit Tate. Tate quit The Force, started hunting. Neeta comes back, though, regular and not to see Pop. And everyone knows it ‘cause you can see her car and his bike at Carnal Hotel when she does. She’s livin’ in Crested Butte but she comes to get her Tate fix, regular and often, and even though he knows she’s legally bound to a man in CB, he gives it to her.”
“I don’t –” I started but stopped when both his hands gave me a squeeze.
“This is my sister I’m talkin’ ‘bout, baby,” he said in his gentle voice. “And she’s trash. I’m sayin’ it, my Pop’ll say it. Neeta’s trash. The thing you gotta know before you climb back on the back of his bike is that Tate Jackson is trash too.”
After delivering that line, he let me go and stepped away. I remained silent and we stared at each other.
“Now you know,” he was still talking gentle. “You let that sink in and you make up your mind. You know where I am.”
With that, he walked away and I watched him do it until he disappeared in the office. I stayed where I was until I saw Stella leave the office and stand outside, her hand lifted to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. I knew she was looking at me and when she looked ready to make her approach, I got in my car and drove away.
*
It took two days of no Tate and no word to ask Krystal where he was.
We were at the bar and it was raining, a lot, a downpour that followed thunder and lightning, so much rain that no one wanted to be out and business at the bar was slow.
I was on with Jonelle and Jonelle had obviously heard what Tate did to Tonia because she came in on time, she wasn’t dressed one step up from streetwalker and she was actually waiting tables.
While she was busy but Krystal wasn’t, I stood beside Jim-Billy and called, “Hey Krystal, where’s Tate?”
I felt Jim-Billy straighten by my side and I saw Bubba, who was at the other end of the bar shooting the breeze with some patrons, turn to face us. Krystal looked at Jim-Billy then she looked at me.
Then she came to me as Bubba ambled our way.
“Didn’t he tell you, Lauren?” Krystal asked cautiously, her gaze sharp on my face.
“Um…” I mumbled. “No.”
“He’s huntin’, gorgeous,” Bubba entered the conversation.
“Yes, I know. Tonia’s killer,” I said.
Krystal looked up at Bubba but Bubba didn’t take his eyes off me.
Then he asked, “Coupla nights ago, weren’t you on the back of his bike?”
“Yes,” I answered and Bubba looked down at Krystal but I saw his brows go up.
“Shit,” Krystal muttered.
“What?” I asked and Bubba looked back at me and they all got closer. I even fancied Jim-Billy scooted nearer.
“Guy who did Tonia is serial,” Bubba said quietly so only our huddle could hear.
“Cereal?” I asked, perplexed.
“Serial, gorgeous. A serial killer. Tonia’s one of seven,” Bubba explained and my hand shot out so my fingers could wrap around the edge of the bar.
“Seven?” I whispered.
“Seven,” Bubba said. “Seven in four years. Pisses the Feds off since they don’t like nicknames but cops’re callin’ him the May-December Murderer. He kills in May then he kills in December.”
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“They ain’t all in Colorado either,” Bubba went on. “But they’re all in the Rockies and Colorado is a hot spot. One in Utah, one in Wyoming, two in Nevada, the rest in Colorado.”
“Tonia,” I whispered thinking, for some asinine reason, this made her death all the more worse and it was bad enough already.
“They don’t got shit,” Bubba informed me. “Tonia was the one who lasted the longest. Dumped her alive, found her alive, that’s a first. She never regained consciousness so they couldn’t ask her questions. She was dumped away from where he hurt her, left no evidence at the scene. They don’t have any witnesses, have no idea where he picked her up, her car was outside her apartment, keys on the kitchen counter, no forced entry, no fingerprints, last anyone saw of her she was in here. They haven’t found her clothes, her hair. They don’t have nothin’.”