Ingram is a liar.
Maybe a murderer.
The awareness locks in and doesn’t let go.
“You running radar today?” he asks.
“Yeah. Just finishing some paperwork before I head out.”
“Good. Good.” He takes a sip from his mug. “Listen, did you ever follow up on that lead? The red paint?”
Channeling my inner Faith Johnson, I keep my face neutral. “Yeah. Thanks for that.” Now that I’m in the moment, it seems unrealistic that I found nothing. So, I hedge it, toning down any urgency. “I just found him late yesterday. I’ll interview him eventually. Annoying I can’t do it for a couple days now.”
“Mmm,” Ingram responds, nodding. “Who is the guy?” he asks.
I tell Ingram of Andy’s past, making it sound like a hot lead. “Andy Tarmigan. And he sure is popular on social media. The women in college didn’t like him much.”
“Oh?” Ingram replies, but I swear his surprise is fake.
“He was accused of drugging multiple women on campus.”
“Damn.” He furrows his eyebrows. “Did he know Zoe?”
“I’m not sure yet. Not that I could see from socials.”
I don’t want this conversation anymore. I don’t want tobe anywhere near Ingram. And I don’t want to slip him any reason to doubt what I’m saying.
Less is more.
My pulse taps at my throat. “He isn’t a nice guy from what I’ve seen, but I’ll let you know more in a few days when I’m off highway patrol and I get a chance to talk to him.”
He sips again. “Well, hopefully this Tarmigan leads somewhere. Last thing those poor Marshall folks need is another officer knocking at their door.”
The words hit me like a stone dropped on the center of my chest, a reminder of everything I’m hiding.
“Yeah,” I say evenly, “I’ve never questioned the parents of a deceased. It’s definitely my last resort. Hopefully it won’t even come to that.”
He nods and seems to buy my cover.
Just then, Callum steps out of his office, holding a binder. “Ingram, didn’t expect you in today.” He leans against the door frame. “Thought you were heading out for that trip?”
Some of the tightness in my shoulders eases. Ingram is leaving town?
Ingram replies, “I just came by to grab my portable charger. The kids can’t deal with planes and no devices.” He turns to me, smiling. “I know, we’re bad parents. We never got the tech under control.” He points to my bump. “I bet you’ll manage better than us. We’re too lenient.”
I smile back the best I can.
This is good.
“Where are you headed?” I ask.
“The wife booked a last-minute resort deal that came up. We have a whole week in Florida.”
This buys us time. The relief hits hard.
“Sounds nice,” I say. “Hope you all have a great time.”
He shrugs with a half-smile. “You know how it is: family wants fun, I want a nap. But I’ll take whatever I can get.”
