“Yeah?”
“Sorry to bother you but can you sign this?” Pushing the door with my shoulder, I step inside, and hand him the paperwork.
After signing the autopsy permission form, he gives it back. “I still don’t see why this is necessary.”
“Routine. You know how it is.” My buddies envy my poker face but even so, it takes all my self-control to finish up the conversation without showing my disgust.
“Actually, I don’t. Do I need a lawyer?” He should hire one but he’s not under arrest and I’m under no obligation to advise him of his rights.
Brows raised, I glance up to the second floor.Dude, you don’t think having a sleepover makes you look guilty as sin?“Not if you’re innocent.”
“Of course, I am.” Frowning, he shakes his head, like I’m the moron.
“Just because you get a little on the side doesn’t mean you’d kill your wife.” If I’m ever going to get his confession, he needs to think I’m on his side.
Smiling now, his shoulders relax and inch down from his ears. “Exactly. I loved Stacy. And, I enjoyed sex more than she did. Hey, I was careful. I never told her. I didn’t want her to feel bad.”
“What’s a good husband to do?” I shoot him a slimy smile and slap him on the back. “By the way? My brother bagged a buck this morning.”
“Really? Where?”
“About a mile up on the ridge. I could take you, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’d like that.” He ignores the toilet flushing as well as the collegiate who stands on the slippery floor peering down on us. The man has no shame.
“How about I text you sometime during the week?”
“Sure, and thanks for understanding. I appreciate it.” He slams the door, his footsteps pound the stairs, and female laughter peals out from the landing.
What a thoughtless prick. After hopping in my truck, I pull off the road nearby, and text the sheriff.
Me: Kincaid’s entertaining a girl.
Al: Who?
Me: Dunno. Do we have someone to watch his house?
Al: Yeah, you.
Awesome. Part of living in a small town is not a lot of backup. It’s ridiculously cold and I wasn’t prepared for a stakeout. Eventually, dusk turns to dark and I shiver, running low on gas. Around nine, the door cracks open and the girl sneaks out. I follow her to where she parked her car and snap her picture along with her license plate.
After she drives off, I call it in to the dispatcher. “Jeff’s girlfriend is Wendy Kenny. She’s a student.”
Tomorrow, I will inform the college president. However, if the girl isn’t in any of Kincaid’s classes, he’s not breaking any rules, and there won’t be any action taken. I’ve seen it all before.
First, a predator picks his prey out of the herd. Generally, she’ll be shy and vulnerable and he will praise her above the rest. He’ll seek her out but in the most professional of ways. His hand might graze hers and he’ll make eye contact.
This will go on for a whole semester and once she is no longer his student, the wolf will reach out for coffee. He’ll tell the lamb how crazy he is about her. She will be flattered by his attention and agree to see him, maybe not even knowing he’s married.
Someone needs to sit Wendy down and have a come-to-Jesus meeting. Jeff is about to become a person of interest in a murder investigation and she should stay clear. I make a note to have Greg’s wife give her a call.
Chapter 8
Danni
Well, I made it through another Thanksgiving, Stacy. If only I’d reacted faster to your email, perhaps we would’ve met up tonight and had a good laugh about my family dynamics.
Still wound up from the nerve-wracking drive back to Middlebury, I walk the length of my childhood bedroom, turn, and repeat. After about an hour, I give up on sleep, dress in layers, and check back into the inn.
