Killer Heat (Dept 6 Hired Guns 3) - Page 81/104

Her phone flashed to the main menu as if trying to tell her that the past was too big a hurdle to clear. The last thing she wanted was to reunite with Jonah only to go through another breakup. It’d been hard enough the first time….

Dropping her phone in her purse, she told herself she was better off leaving the relationship as it stood. Sure, she’d missed him. But if she’d learned to build a life without him once, she could do it again. She’d be wiser to make that decision now, before she formed as many new memories of him as she had past ones. At least after the last few days she’d be able to remember him in a more positive light. Sometimes one had to be grateful for small things.

Pushing the button on her key that would unlock her car, she took a deep breath. Maybe she wouldn’t have the sense of completion or happiness that felt so tantalizingly close whenever Jonah was around, but that happiness could be just an illusion.

From the moment she got out of her car, Francesca could feel Butch’s glare. It cut through the summer heat like the searing blue flame of a welding torch as he watched her approach from where he sat in a cheap plastic lawn chair, while his son played on a tire swing that hung from the same kind of rope Dean had brought to her house. She made that connection right away, planned to ask the police to take a sample, since Dean had left that short length of rope behind.

The Impala was gone. She guessed Butch had suggested his wife leave, possibly to avoid the painful process of having half a dozen police officers crawl over the house and yard, searching through everything and anything, including her underwear, tampons and birth control products. It wasn’t like she had to stay. Search warrants were very specific, and since Dean didn’t drive, the judge hadn’t allowed Finch to include the vehicles.

It didn’t look as if the old folks were home, either, which made Francesca wonder whether Finch was having them tailed. If Dean’s parents felt any sympathy for their boy’s situation, they could be meeting up with him right now, passing him money or giving him a lift to someplace they deemed safe, someplace out of reach of the law—like Mexico, which was only a four-and-a-half-hour drive away.

Planning to ask Finch if he’d considered that possibility, she started to skirt around Butch when he came to his feet and stepped in front of her. “Well, look who it is,” he said, raising the can of beer in his hand.

She wished she had more energy, but last night had taken its toll. “I have nothing to say to you,” she told him. “Please get out of my way.”

He didn’t. Wearing a baseball hat with his typical sleeveless shirt and jeans, he took a swig of beer. “I hear Dean gave you a scare.”

The taunt in his voice said he wasn’t displeased by his brother-in-law’s actions, and that surprised her. After learning about his activity with that black garbage bag, she would’ve expected him to be upset that Dean had brought the police down on them.

“That’s right,” she said. “And I gave him a shot of pepper spray. Considering he’s wanted by the police and will probably spend the rest of his life in prison, I’d say he got the worst of it, wouldn’t you?”

Muscles bulging, he folded his arms across his massive chest. “Too bad that boy ain’t more of a man.”

“And what would a man have done, Butch?” She wanted to taunt him in return, let him know he’d been observed last night, but she wouldn’t risk compromising their case. First they had to get him on record saying he hadn’t left the house.

His gaze dropped to the slight cle**age above her V-neck shirt. “A real man would’ve had you on your back in ten seconds flat.”

A tingle of fear went through her. Dean had shown up at her house with a rope, yet this man frightened her even more. “Are we talking about rape, Butch? Are you suggesting a real man, a man like you, would’ve raped me?”

He gave her an evil smile that made her feel shockingly vulnerable. “Rape you? Heck, no. That’s illegal.”

“Not to mention immoral.”

“That, too.” He took another drink of his beer. “I’m just sayin’ a real man would’ve been able to pin you so you couldn’t spray him, that’s all,” he said with a wink as he stepped aside.

When she came even with him, she paused. “You think you’re helping your case by making comments like that, Butch? Isn’t your family in enough trouble?”

He made a show of appraising her calves, the only part of her legs visible beneath her knee-length skirt. “I’m not in any trouble. They won’t find anything here, except maybe a few trophies from the women I’ve—” his smile widened “—pinned.”

“You’d better hope all those women are still breathing, or you’ll have a much bigger problem than just putting up with a mess,” she said as she gestured at the chaos surrounding them.

He reached out to grab her arm before she could walk away, but the front door opened and a forensic tech came out at the same time. Laughing, Butch shoved his hand through his hair as if he’d intended that action all along. “Let’s hope you’re still breathing when all this is over, huh?”

Francesca couldn’t believe his nerve. She was so appalled she didn’t realize the forensic tech had spoken to her until he repeated himself. “I said, are you Francesca Moretti?”

Pulling her gaze from Butch, she focused on the man who’d been trying to hail her. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

His eyes cut between her and Butch. Obviously, he sensed the tension but didn’t understand the reason behind it. “Finch asked me to keep a lookout for you. He’s in back.”

“Right. In back,” she said, and began to follow him. Then she caught the tech’s arm, so he couldn’t go in without her, and faced Butch. “I’m going to find Julia, or find out what happened to her. Then we’ll see who’s safe and who’s not.”

The unconcerned mask he’d worn since she arrived disintegrated. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“When whoever’s been murdering women and dumping their bodies in the desert or on the street, like so much trash, has been put behind bars, I’ll quit,” she said, and walked off.

29

After taking the letters Finch had given her to the car, Francesca sat in the driver’s seat reading. She thought she might have some questions for the investigators or run across a detail she’d need to check out while she had access to the property. But she felt so sleepy she was hardly in top form. And Butch was making her uncomfortable with the way he kept watching her.