Ask him, ask him. She wished the annoying person in her head would take a chill pill.
“—check out Janet’s second husband. Alone. He might have been the last person to see her alive. He also might be dangerous.”
Before she could remember what she’d asked him, Hunter clicked the door closed and raced around to the driver’s side. Once he was seated, Kerry broached a safer topic. “I believe I can help.” She flipped a strand of hair out of her face. “Let me rephrase that. I want to help, need to help with this case.”
“You’re not with the department. I don’t bring civilians with me if I can help it.”
“You said I was indirectly with the department since I work at the medical examiners office. You let me come here.”
“That was different.” His response came without delay. “I didn’t want to argue with your grandfather. Besides we know nothing about this Kopetski guy. It’s too dangerous.”
He had a point. “We knew nothing about Mr. Norwood either.” David Kopetski might be as dangerous as her angry caller. Hell, he might be the angry caller. “If you’re there, what harm could there be?”
“Kerry, I won’t chance it. I can’t stop a bullet.”
“O-kay. Can I make the call to the prison to see if Janet injured herself before her release?”
His face relaxed. “That you can do.”
He seemed focused on his driving, not saying another word for the next ten minutes, and the silence was making her crazy.
“Hunter?” He didn’t answer. Here goes. “It’s rather late. Isn’t your wife worried where you are?”
The planes of his jaw tightened. “My wife is... dead.”
“Oh.” The air pressed down on her, squeezing the life from her lungs. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
She coughed into the crux of her elbow. “Will you let me know what happens after you speak with Kopetski?” She kept her voice upbeat, though the embarrassment cut her to the core.
Hunter glanced at her and smiled. Actually, smiled, and her pulse sped up. “Don’t worry. I promise to keep you in the loop if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“Thanks.”
Her body nearly floated off the seat. Hunter Markum was single. Not that she’d get seriously involved with him, but a fling might make her stay here more pleasant.
You’re kidding yourself. Since when did you do one-night stands? Never. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t start, right?
His smile disappeared and changed into a frown. “I want to pick you up tomorrow morning, drive you to work, and then take you home.” He reached over and gently clasped her arm as he kept his gaze on the road. “No arguing on this point. I was serious when I said I didn’t want you out alone.”
“Grandpa said he’d drive me.”
“And give someone a chance to sneak into your house?”
Her delightful daydream evaporated. “You think I’m in that much danger?” Her stomach twisted.
“Why take a chance?”
Having a personal bodyguard would give her peace of mind.
Right. Peace of mind? Who was she kidding?
“I’m beginning to think this Willie Wyble guy is a figment of Mr. DeMarco’s imagination,” Phil said as he pulled into the cemetery lot.
He’d come here every day for the last week. No Willie Wyble.
“Did you run his prints in AFIS?” Gina asked.
Phil chuckled. “You’re really liking all this police stuff, aren’t you?”
“I think it’s exciting.”
She tucked her left leg under her butt and twisted toward him, making her skirt ride high on her thigh.
Phil swallowed. “That so?”
“Compared to teaching fourteen year olds about Alexander the Great for four hours a day, police work is like being in Disney World.”
Boy, did she have a lot to learn. “Personally, I couldn’t stand history. Math and science were more my thing.” Phil cut the engine and jumped out in front of the cemetery building. The intense heat nearly melted his badge.
Gina slid out and stretched, her breasts straining against her top. Man she was something else. He looked away. He didn’t need the distraction, and sure as hell didn’t need the trouble.
Gina sidled up to him and ran a finger down his arm. “I bet if you’d been my student, you wouldn’t be so disdainful about the subject.”
He wished she’d stop flirting. His defenses were already on shaky grounds. “You might be right.”
She smiled. “Do you hear that?”
Birds chirped, and car engines sounded behind them on the main road. “Hear what?”
“I’ll be right back.”
Without asking his permission, she rushed around to the side of the cemetery building where they held services. A moment later, she peeked her head back around and waved. “I see a tractor.”
Don’t tell him their luck had changed. He raced next to her. “Where?”
She pointed off to the right. “He went behind those trees a second ago.”
Phil strained to hear the grumble of a far away engine. He looked down at her sandals. “Mind walking?”
“No. Just make sure you keep up.”
This time he laughed. Compared to Hunter, Gina was a breath of sunshine. She raced ahead and he had to jog to catch up.
By the time they reached the tree line, sweat had stained his shirt. Even Gina looked like she was ready to drop, but to her credit, she didn’t complain.
They neared the Caterpillar backhoe, which was a blend of yellow and rust. “When the cat’s away the mouse will play,” Phil said, recalling that DeMarco claimed Willie was only allowed to dig at night. It wouldn’t turn dark around here for another three hours. He wondered if Jeff Lamont, the cemetery owner, knew what Willie was up to right now.
Phil waved his arms, but the driver ignored him. Phil practically had to jump in front of the scoop before the operator cut the engine.
“Hey, you’re in my way, Mister.”
“You Willie Wyble?” Phil asked.
“Maybe. Who’s asking?”
“Phil Tedesco.” He didn’t need to mention he was a cop. That might shut him up. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Willie scrunched his hat on his head. “You here to buy worms?”
“Wish I had the time to go fishing. No, I need to ask about Mr. DeMarco.”
Willie looked around as though Demarco, or perhaps Mr. Lamont, were hiding behind the trees, spying on him. “What about him?”
This was not the best setting to discuss whether Willie had anything to do with the theft of the body, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Are you digging this hole for one of his...customers?”
Willie pressed his lips together.
“Are you?”
“You gonna tell Mr. Lamont?” Fear rolled off Willie.
“No. I was just curious.” Phil shifted to the left to move out of the lowlying sun’s path. “Do you dig a lot of holes just for the hell of it?”
“Sometimes. Usually late at night when no one can see me, but tonight I got another job. That’s why I’m digging now.”
Phil bet Lamont would be pissed if he ever found out. “Doing what?”
Willie’s lips curled up. “Not telling.”
Gina moved up next to Phil. “Hi, Willie.”
Willie studied Gina. “Who are you?”
“Just a friend.” She took a step closer and put her hand on the tractor. Phil wanted to pull her away, to keep her from harm, but Willie didn’t move a muscle.
“I don’t have any friends.” Willie’s lips turned into a frown. “Well, maybe one.”
She glanced at Phil, and then back at Willie. “You said you like to dig holes. Did you dig any over at Westchase a couple of months ago?”
“Maybe.”
Phil was beginning to lose patience, and the hot, muggy evening wasn’t helping his mood. “Maybe yes, or maybe no, Willie?”
Willie started the engine again and put the tractor into gear. Gina jumped out of the way. Phil shouted at him to stop. About a minute later, Willie cut the engine again. “I can’t go to prison. I have to be outside. Digging. People need the worms. I have to dig.”
“Willie, you didn’t do anything wrong if that’s what worrying you,” Phil said. No law against lying.