“I could tell that when I first showed it to him,” Carson said. “Not rattled in the least.”
“Plead him not guilty on the attempted murder charge,” Trapper said, “but leave the lowlife behind bars. Fall guys often have short life spans. Not only will Duncan be safer in jail, if he’s shacked up with a juvenile, he belongs there. I’m sure Oklahoma would like to have him back, too.”
In a none too subtle invitation for Carson to leave, Trapper opened the door, took Carson’s hand, and slapped a set of car keys into his palm.
“Oh, right. Almost forgot.” Carson dug into his trousers pocket, produced a key fob and gave it to Trapper. “Around the north corner of the building. Last in the row. Maroonish sedan.”
“Thanks.” Trapper pocketed the key fob. “And thanks again for rushing up here on short notice. Let me know when I can return the favor.”
“You can start by paying me the eight-fifty you owe me just for today.”
“Dream on.”
“Okay, three-fifty.”
“I could mention to the Texas Bar Association that—”
“Two-fifty.”
“Goodbye, Carson.”
Trapper closed the door on him and leaned back against it as though to barricade it should Carson try to return. Kerra asked, “Why did you swap keys?”
“He’s taking his brother-in-law’s car back. He left me the one he drove up here from Fort Worth.”
“Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t put it past Glenn to have had a tracking device put on that ugly car while we were inside the sheriff’s office. If I need to get lost again, he’ll be tracking Carson, not me.”
“You think of everything.”
“No. I don’t.” With those three words, his tone became weighty and solemn, and so did his demeanor. “That’s what has kept me up nights for the past three years. And since Sunday, it’s only gotten worse, not better.”
He looked at her pensively for several moments, then gave one shake of his head as though having reached a tough decision. “It’s expected of me to go off half-cocked, but this chasing around isn’t for you. I was wrong to make you part of it. Go back to Dallas and, as you said, do your thing. I’ll do mine.” He gestured toward her bag again. “You left some things in the bathroom.”
Rather than moving to collect her belongings as he’d indicated, she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why are you still chasing around?”
“I want justice.”
“Of course that. But if that’s all you wanted, you could go to the authorities right now with what you have on Wilcox.”
“And give them another belly laugh? No thanks.”
“This time you have Wilcox himself.”
“He would deny that meeting in my office ever took place.”
“I would bear witness to it.”
“True. But you can’t prove what we talked about.”
“Yes, I can.”
Not expecting that, he gave her a sharp look.
“Get the phone you had when you threatened to call 911.”
He walked over to the bed and rummaged in the pockets of his coat until he found that particular phone, took the back off, and placed a battery in it.
Kerra said, “I carried the phone with me when I went to the window. My back was turned for ten minutes. I went to voice memos on the home page and pressed record. I was scared to death Wilcox would notice. Or the guy in the window across the street. I guess his sights were set on the center of my forehead, not my hands.”
By now the phone was powered up. Trapper went to the voice memos icon and tapped play.
The recording began with Kerra’s voice “…coming from the corner. A third, from the other direction.” After a lengthy silence, “There’s a fourth, Trapper.”
Then Wilcox. “They’ve been instructed to wait for a second call, a second hang-up. If it doesn’t come within ten minutes…”
Trapper tapped pause and stared down at her. “How much is on here?”
“I had to stop recording when I made the second call. You took back the phone immediately after.”
“Pretty smart trick.”
“Thanks.”
He dashed her perky comeback with anger. “A trick that could’ve gotten you killed. Us killed. Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?”
“Well, you’ve kept me rather occupied. First there was the unannounced visit to Marianne’s house. Then our drive back here in the middle of the night. The tense conversation between you and The Major in the hospital. This morning—”
“That’s all bullshit, Kerra. You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d be mad as hell. Think what would have happened if you’d gotten caught.”
“But I didn’t! And now you have the recording.”
“A recording of me spinning what Wilcox called a captivating story.”
“He talked about wanting to avenge his daughter’s murder. He talked about the four men outside standing by to rush the building and kill you. It’s something. At least it’s enough to get the authorities to listen to you without laughing.” His lack of excitement dismayed and confused her. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I’m glad to have the recording. And it is something on that son of a bitch. But it makes my point, Kerra. If not for me, you wouldn’t have been there in that life-threatening situation, taking risks.”
He paced a few feet away from her, and when he turned back, he said, “Your involvement in this should’ve ended the night I took you those damn flowers.” He held her gaze for a moment, then looked down at his boots and, in a mumble, added, “I just couldn’t stay away from you.”
The admission made her heart flutter. But it turned to a thud of dread with his next statement. “Your involvement ends now.”
“I’ve changed my mind from what I said earlier.”
He gave a negative shake of his head. “You’re going back to your life. Or not. But in any case you’re going away from me.”
“But I don’t want to drop this.”
“I don’t want another Berkley Johnson on my conscience. Only with you, it would be worse. I never kissed him.” The words shimmered between them, then he said, “Besides, this is something I’ve got to do alone.”
That statement had a different ring to it. “You’ve got to do it alone? That’s an odd thing to say.”
“What’s odd about it?”
“It doesn’t sound like someone who’s only seeking justice. It sounds like you have a hidden agenda.”
“And that sounds like psychobabble.”
If she hadn’t hit on something, he wouldn’t be responding so defensively. Determined to get to the bottom of it, she searched his face and asked again, “Why must you do this alone?”
“I just do, okay?”
“Not okay. That’s not an explanation.”
“That’s all you’re getting.”
“Why alone, Trapper?”
“Kerra.”
“To restore your pride?”
He drew himself up to full height. “Yeah. That’s it. I’m a peacock whose tail feathers got plucked by the ATF. Save that quote. Put it in your story.”
“Don’t do that,” she said, coming to her feet. “Don’t slam the door on me or cop that smart-ass attitude.”
“Then stop asking questions. I don’t give interviews, remember?”
“Aren’t we beyond that?”
“Well, I thought so, but obviously not.”
“We’re just two people talking, Trapper.”