In Seconds (Bulletproof 2) - Page 48/101

Jared jumped in again. “Not necessarily. Maybe the injury didn’t bleed. And they didn’t take the car because they knew it would link them to the murder.”

That made some sense. Myles rocked back. “What about the partial thumbprint on the door?”

“Turned out to be Gertie’s,” Jared told him. “After Pat died, she wasn’t thinking straight. Instead of using the phone right there on the counter, she stumbled outside and ran down the street to C.C.’s. Or so she said. I can’t imagine walking away from a phone that’s right in front of you, but…there you have her side of the story.”

Myles could imagine Gertie doing precisely what she’d said. He remembered how disoriented he’d felt when Amber Rose passed away, and he’d been expecting it, watching death’s inexorable approach, for months. “Her husband had just died in her arms, Jared.”

Jared cleared his throat and Linda shifted as if his words had reminded them both why he’d know about this particular situation, and he clenched his jaw, trying to contain his irritation. He hated dealing with the discomfort his loss created in others. That made it so hard to ever be normal, to carry on without feeling as if he was constantly being examined under a microscope. If the good citizens of Pineview perceived him as acting too distraught over Amber Rose’s death, they whispered things like, “He’s got to pick up and go on, for the sake of that little girl. You can only mourn for so long.” And if it seemed to them that he didn’t care enough, as if he was putting her death behind him as so many suggested, they began to doubt that he was being honest about his grief or that he’d ever really loved Amber Rose to begin with. Her death was bad enough. The extra attention he’d had to suffer over the past three years made it worse.

Or maybe, given that he’d made love with someone else for the first time last night, he was especially self-conscious today. Did the fact that he’d wanted Vivian so badly, that he’d thought of Amber Rose and yet that hadn’t lessened his desire, somehow take away from what he’d felt for his wife? Was he capable of moving on in an emotional sense? Had he finally reached that point after all the lonely months since he’d buried her? Or was it only hormones?

Trying to regain his focus, he thumbed through the rest of the files they’d brought until he came to the diagram of Pat’s many injuries. He’d already seen it, briefly, in the autopsy report, but this reminded him of the missing can opener. “Any more news on the murder weapon?”

“A little,” Jared replied. “The wounds Pat sustained are consistent with the electric can opener that’s missing.”

“You mean a can opener. You haven’t found the can opener.”

“No. But Gertie took me to the store to show me the brand, and I bought one. The dents in Pat’s skull match perfectly.”

“Could there be other objects that match?”

“I doubt it. I took a short video of the coroner’s demonstration—” Linda searched through her purse and withdrew a very small video camera “—if you’d like to see it for yourself.”

When she had the camera powered up and ready, she passed it across the desk to him, and he watched the coroner use the can opener like a rock against a Styrofoam head to simulate what had happened to Pat. The indentations clearly matched the protruding magnet.

Poor old guy, Myles thought. Pat didn’t deserve to die, especially like this. It was even more tragic that he’d been killed for less than fifty dollars. “Does Gertie know you’re investigating her?” he asked as he returned the camera.

“She knows I’m doing all I can to find out who killed her husband,” Jared said, “and she appreciates it.”

She’d probably appreciate it a lot less if she knew he’d been snooping around in her personal affairs, looking for a motive. Investigating her added insult to injury. Feeling protective of her, Myles was somewhat offended by Jared’s attitude. “I can’t believe there isn’t any blood at the scene belonging to someone other than Pat,” he mused. “Could we have missed something?”

“No.”

“No trace evidence under his fingernails?”

“No.”

“What about that smear on Pat’s shirt?”

“That was his,” Jared said.

Myles decided he was definitely going to Reliable Auto. He wanted to find “Ron Howard” and Peter Ferguson. They’d given him a bad feeling, and all those clothes “Howard” had been wearing seemed even more suspect now. “Damn, I’d like to think Pat got in a swipe here and there.”

“Against two?”

Myles rolled his eyes at Jared’s heavy skepticism. “You can’t allow me the comfort of one harmless fantasy?”

Puzzled by his response, Jared leaned forward. “How does it bring you comfort if it isn’t what really happened?”

“Forget it.” Myles gave Linda a look of exasperation, but he knew she wouldn’t necessarily agree with him. Although she used to complain about Jared all the time—the mess that surrounded him, his obsessive tendencies, his literal nature—she’d gained a great deal of respect for him over the past two years. Since he had no wife or children with whom to spend his evenings, and would work 24/7 if left to his own devices, she and her husband invited him over for dinner probably twice a week. Other times, she brought him leftovers for lunch.

“I must be hanging out with him too much,” she admitted, “because what he just said actually makes sense to me.”

Myles threw up his hands. “Fine. Let’s face the bitter truth, shall we? Pat had no chance from the beginning. Now tell me about your interviews.”

When they exchanged a questioning glance, Myles had to acknowledge that he was the one acting strange today. He was as tense as Jared had accused him of being, and had been ever since he’d seen Rex standing in Vivian’s kitchen only hours after he’d made love to her at the cabin.

“No one in the other rentals saw anything,” Jared explained. “C.C. is the closest neighbor, but there are trees secluding both residences. And she was vacuuming, had no idea Pat was even showing the cabin.”

“Wouldn’t you know it? With all the folks in Pineview who pay a little too much attention to their neighbors, our murder occurs next to someone who pays no attention whatsoever.”

“It’s a rental. One of several in the area. She sees a lot of people come and go,” Linda said.