When Jeff excused himself to go upstairs to call Alice, Jack Connell asked the two detectives, “What’s that about?”
Knight, who was halfway through a minibar can of cashews, said, “Dr. Alice Butler. OB-GYN.” He explained the three-way medical clinic partnership. “Also, she’s Emory’s best friend.”
“Who’s committing adultery with him.” Grange tipped his head toward the top of the stairs.
Jack divided a look between them. “Huh. Does Emory know?”
“We don’t think so,” Grange replied. “She might. She might not care. Would you, if you were her?”
Jack smiled, then asked, “When she went missing, you looked hard at him?”
“Snug as a bug in a rug with Alice Butler from Friday evening till Sunday afternoon, when he became concerned about his wife,” Knight said.
Grange expanded on that, recounting the interview he’d had with the other woman. “She confessed, crumbling beneath the weight of guilt. We thought for sure we had Jeff’s dual motive.”
“Dual?”
Grange told him about Emory’s legacy from Charbonneau Oil and Gas. “She’s worth a bundle and then some. We were on our way to apprehending him, but then Emory showed up at the filling station, alive.”
Knight said, “The husband’s no longer a suspect. Your boy Hayes Bannock stole all his thunder.”
“Bannock won’t hurt her.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I’d stake my career on it,” Jack insisted. “Besides, she isn’t afraid of him or she wouldn’t have left with him tonight.”
Grange said, “That’s the first thing that crossed my mind when Knight called me and said to get over here. There’s a big difference between being unafraid of someone and running off with him. Why’d she go? What did he say to her? What did he do to get her to take off without even getting her coat first?”
Jack said, “I don’t know Emory Charbonneau well, but from my perspective, it’s just as puzzling. Always before, when Bannock was done somewhere, he split. Like in a matter of hours. After the incident with Norman and Will Floyd, I can’t figure why he’s sticking around.”
“Maybe he’s not done with the Floyds. Maybe the beating was only a prelude leading up to a big finish.”
Jack pulled the inside of his cheek between his teeth. “I hope not.”
“Or maybe we’re overlooking the obvious. Maybe Emory’s ‘he treated me kindly’ refrain was euphemistic for…” Knight let his raised eyebrows speak for him, then shook the last of the cashews from the can and tossed them into his mouth. “But whatever he’s doing to, or with, or for her, we still want him for assault and battery. So my question to you, Agent Connell, is on behalf of all the men and women we’ve got out there looking for them. Just how dangerous is this guy?”
“Officers should proceed with caution.”
“That’s it? That’s your only word of advice?” Knight was frowning over the insufficiency. “Word’s spread through our department about the Floyd boys. Truth be told, their beating has been toasted by more than one six pack. They’re scumbags, and that was the opinion even before anybody knew about them raping their kid sister.”
“Have they been charged?”
“Not yet. It’s on the DA’s desk, but the girl is iffy about bringing it out in the open. You know how that goes.”
Jack nodded, and Knight continued.
“In the meantime, everybody’s just a tad spooked over the man who whipped the Floyds single-handedly. We found where he stored his weapons, but not the weapons themselves, meaning he could have a lot of firepower with him. Now a fed has shown up hot on his heels. Bannock’s taken on a…a…”
“Aura,” Grange said.
Knight acknowledged the supplied word with a nod, but he kept his attention on Jack. “I’m asking you as an officer of the law, same as you, to cut the double-talk and basic bullshit and tell us just who we’re dealing with here.”
“You referenced a mass shooting in Virginia, but you weren’t specific.” Grange cast a quick upward glance at the closed bedroom door that would prevent Jeff from overhearing. Then, leaning toward Jack and speaking in an undertone, he asked, “Are we talking Westboro?”
Jack looked at them in turn. “You know the story?” And when they nodded in unison, he said, “That was Bannock.”
Grange whistled softly.
Knight murmured, “Holy shit.”
Chapter 35
At the mention of the eight fatalities, Hayes abruptly got up and replaced the chair beneath the dining table. “You’d better turn in, Doc.”
“Turn in?”
“Tomorrow could be a long day.”
“I demand an explanation for what Agent Connell told us about you.”
“Bedroom’s down the hall. Bathroom’s on the right. I’ll bunk on the couch.”
“Hayes?” When he came around to her, she said, “I assume that’s your real name. Hayes Bannock?”
He hesitated before giving her a brusque nod.
“I’m glad to finally know it.”
“Don’t speak too soon.”
“If I looked you up on the Internet, what would I find? Your army service record? Your degree in constructional engineering? Your sister and niece in Seattle?”
“My, my. Connell was a fount of information, wasn’t he?”
“He referenced a soccer coach. A priest. Others in addition to Norman and Will Floyd.”
“I take that back. He was a babbling brook.”
“All related to that shooting in Virginia.”
His eyes turned cold and hostile. “You should go to bed, Doc. Get some sleep.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Okay then, I’ll turn in.”
He made for the hallway, but she quickly placed herself in his path. “Tell me what all this is about.”
“I’m sure you’ll find out, in time.”
“I want to know now. I want to hear it from your own lips, not from someone else’s.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise I’ll never believe you were involved in something so heinous.”
“Well I was.” His tone was curt, matter of fact. “There. That’s all you need to know and all you’ll get from me. It has nothing to do with the here and now.”
“Agent Connell thinks it does.”
“Agent Connell can go fuck himself. What happened then doesn’t pertain to you.”
“But it pertains to you.”
“It’s not my life I’m trying to save! It’s yours.”
“I don’t need you to save me,” she said, warming to the argument. “I can go to Connell myself, to Knight and Grange, and—”
“What?”
“Accuse Jeff.”
He gave a stern shake of his head. “Not a good plan.”
“Why?”
“You don’t have any evidence to support your allegations.”
She opened her hand, showing him that she had the zipper pull, then quickly snatched her hand back.
He shrugged with indifference. “Useless. Where you got it and when, your word against his, remember?”
“But it and the rock together would—”
“You don’t have the rock.”
“But you do.”
“That’s right. I do.”
“You’d hold it hostage from me?”
“To keep you from barging in and exposing yourself to that slimy son of a bitch you’re married to? Damn right, I would.”
“Jeff couldn’t do anything to me while I’m surrounded by law enforcement officers.”
“Which is the only reason I didn’t come and get you sooner. I waited outside the hospital last night until I saw Jeff leave and figured you were safe. You spent most of today in the company of men with badges.
“But what happens when they pack up and go home for lack of evidence against him? You’ll have played your hand. You will have accused him. How do you think that will sit with him when he was already prepared to murder you?”
It was a valid point. Even if Jeff were now to provide an iron-clad alibi, she would never trust him or feel comfortable alone with him. Ever again. “All right, my plan is flawed. Do you have one? What do you intend to do?”
“With the rock?”
“With all of it. With what you know about Jeff. With me.”
“I don’t know yet.”
She thought of the Floyds, suffering in their hospital beds. “But you’ll stay within the law, right?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Frustrated almost to the point of tears, she said, “Tell me about Virginia.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No!”
“I want to know what you did!”
“No, you don’t!” His shout echoed off the walls of the confined space. A few seconds passed, then he said in a low voice, “Trust me. You don’t.”
His strained enunciation, his unyielding expression intimidated her. She backed away from him. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I don’t want to know.” Looking around frantically, she said, “In fact, why did I even come here with you?”
“That, I will answer.” He took measured steps toward her. “I didn’t drag you off that balcony and force you to come with me. But I would have if necessary.” He let that sink in, then took a step nearer and kept closing in until his face hovered above hers.
“If I’d had to, I would have wrapped you in bailing wire and carried you off. Because I’d rather see you shy away from me, rather see you cringing with fright and mistrust like you are now, rather see you any other way except dead.”
It wasn’t poetry, but it was profound. Her heart expanded with emotion. She reached up to touch his cheek.
But before it could make contact, he caught her wrist and held her hand away from him. When he finally let it go, he motioned down the hall and ordered gruffly, “Go to bed. Lock the door if it makes you feel safer.”
*