Killer Heat (Dept 6 Hired Guns 3) - Page 37/104

She couldn’t believe he’d continue to lie when, as far as he knew, they were alone. “By tackling me? Come on. You already put on a circus for the police. I was there, remember? I know what happened. You were feeling a lot more than curiosity.”

Shifting so he could reach the desk while his feet remained on top of it, he put down his coffee cup and picked up a heavy crystal paperweight, which he tossed from hand to hand. “Maybe I was.”

“So now you’re admitting it?”

“I’m admitting that I was trying to hide something. But not what you think. I had no intention of murdering you when you came here. I’ve never killed anyone.”

She watched that paperweight shift from hand to hand, thought how easy it would be for him to bash her head in before Jonah or Finch or anyone else could rescue her. “Then why did you react the way you did when you found me on your property?”

“Because I knew what you were. The last stranger who came snooping around here all dressed up was also a P.I.”

“Looking for yet another missing person with a connection to you, no doubt,” she said dryly.

A hint of malice passed over his face but was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “Looking to catch me with a woman other than my wife,” he corrected.

Francesca brought her purse around so she could prop it in her lap. “You think Paris is collecting proof that you’re unfaithful? Considering the profile you posted on that dating Web site where you met April, that shouldn’t be too hard. A quick Internet search would do it. I’d be happy to help—for free.”

The animosity didn’t reappear, as she’d thought it would. Instead, he laughed. “Paris would never leave me. It’s not like I’m sneaking around on her, so you got nothing on me. As long as I’m discreet and my emotions don’t get involved, she lets me do whatever I want. It’s my girlfriend’s husband who has a jealousy problem.”

His girlfriend? Francesca hadn’t expected him to divulge another ongoing relationship. She hadn’t even expected him to have one. Or maybe that was how he worked. Maybe he kept various women on the side as girlfriends until they became too demanding, or he tired of them, or the desire to kill grew too strong to resist. “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”

The paperweight landed on his desk with a thud. “None of your business. I won’t drag her into this. She’s got her hands full dealing with that husband of hers. She doesn’t need any more trouble, especially from you.”

“Interesting. You seem to care about her—enough to protect her, to some extent—and yet it doesn’t bother you that you’re breaking up her marriage.”

“Why would it?” he said. “I don’t owe her husband any more than I owe you. I never forced her to sleep with me. The way I look at it, she’s breaking up her own marriage. That’s her choice. But it doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for the people her husband hires to document us so he can take away her kids.”

Francesca didn’t conceal her smirk. “You’re telling me that was all that had you worried when I showed up here, Butch? What your girlfriend’s husband might do with proof of her infidelity?”

He spread his hands wide. “Believe it or not.”

Rocking back, she folded her arms on her purse. “What about April?”

“What about her?”

“They found her body yesterday.”

There was a brief hesitation. “She’s dead?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Was it on the news?”

“I can’t say. I haven’t watched the news.” She’d been too focused on basic survival, Jill and Vince, her phone line. She hadn’t even turned on the TV last night at Heather’s apartment. “When I got to where she was dumped, there were no reporters. But you’re the last person to see her alive.”

He took another sip of coffee. “She was perfectly fine when I left her. If someone hurt her, it wasn’t me.”

Did the news of April’s death upset him? Not that Francesca could tell. He seemed agitated but not particularly upset. “I just told you that a woman you’ve been involved with is dead. You don’t care?”

He smiled. “Of course. Can’t you tell? I’m broken up inside.”

She hoped the sarcasm carried through to Jonah and the others. “Any chance you can prove she was alive when you went your separate ways?”

His chair creaked rhythmically as he swiveled from side to side. “No more than you can prove she wasn’t.”

“Do you mind telling me what you two did Saturday night?”

“Not at all. We met at the Pour House at seven o’clock. Then we drove out to a little Mexican place called the Rio Grande about fifteen miles from here. After dinner, we were anxious to be together, if you know what I mean, so I pulled off the road and we, uh, got busy in my truck.”

“You’re saying you had sex with her.”

The swiveling and its attendant creaking stopped. “I’m saying it was consensual.”

Somehow, Francesca couldn’t see a teacher like April being quite so easy. According to April’s sister, and the e-mails she’d read on April’s computer, this was the first time April had actually met Harry Statham, aka Butch. And everything else in her life revealed her as conservative, cautious. In Francesca’s mind, Butch was only admitting he’d had intercourse with April to explain any foreign DNA they might find. He was smart, smarter than the average ra**st, if that was the appropriate term. “And then?”

“After it was over, she wanted me to take her home with me. It was as if she thought fifteen minutes of sweaty sex committed us for life. I told her I couldn’t do that. I was tired and had to work the next morning. I don’t know how I could’ve made it any plainer that the date was over. But she was so insistent that I finally had to tell her I was married. That was when the shit really hit the fan. She freaked out. Started screaming and demanding I stop the truck.”

“On the highway?”

“That’s right, on the highway. I didn’t want to let her out. I knew it was a hike to get anywhere from that point. But she wouldn’t listen. She was sobbing and hitting me, and we were weaving all over the road. When she opened her door and threatened to jump, I pulled over and let her out.” He steepled his fingers. “I’m not proud of how the night ended,” he added, “but I had no choice other than to let her do as she wished. I’ve never seen a woman so worked up.”