“If he’s not the killer, then who is he?” she said.
“Someone who knows…” Buck’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, and it had an eerie quality to it, almost a warning tone.
Katie leaned back. “What makes you say that?”
“Explain to me another reason why someone would visit the exact spot where bodies are buried.”
“You raise a good point.”
“C’mon, detective, you know I’m right.”
“Tell me why you’re so interested in this?”
He shrugged.
“Buck, I really can’t take you at your word until I know your connection.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. You’ve obviously never investigated a homicide. Or a cold case.”
Buck became agitated.
“You know I’m right,” said Katie. “You can trust me. How are you connected?”
“I just know.” He stared at her with intensity. “I just know…” His voice faded off.
A nurse entered the room. “Just here to check your bandages and your blood pressure.”
Katie got up and left the room for a few minutes. She paced the hallway in frustration. She was so close, but Buck wasn’t going to confide in her. She thought it might be too traumatic for him, but it could be anything at this point.
The door opened and the nurse left. Katie entered again.
Buck had his eyes closed.
She didn’t know what to do. She’d never had this much trouble before maintaining a discussion or interview. She sat down. “Buck, I need to know what you know and how you know it. Who is the man in black?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She could tell the conversation was tiring him but she had to get some answers.
“I came here because you said you would only talk to me.” Katie pulled out one of the photos from the video cam at the coffee shop and showed it to him. “Is this the man in black? And was he the man who attacked me and stabbed you today?”
Buck remained quiet.
Katie let out a sigh. She didn’t want to use up any more energy. She stood.
Buck grabbed her arm. “Wait.”
She stopped and sat back down. She wasn’t going to ask him the question again.
His face was strained and he suddenly looked older. “I was a kid when the Collins family lived on their farm not far from the construction site. My brother and I used to play around the property because it was near our house and sometimes we would sneak into their barn. It’s long gone now, but it was there,” he said. “One night, we were out later than usual and managed to climb up in the barn’s loft. We knew we weren’t supposed to be there and were about to leave.” He stopped, appearing distraught at the memory.
Katie was barely breathing as she waited for him to continue.
“So we heard someone coming, a man’s voice. We assumed it was Bruce Collins. The doors slammed open and he was mad—as usual. There was no one with him, but he was searching for something.” He paused. “He slammed things around, tools fell on the floor, and then he suddenly stopped, picked up a baseball bat, and left.”
“Do you know where he was going?” she barely whispered.
“We didn’t, but after he left we followed. It was late. He didn’t get into his truck; he walked out into the forest,” he said and then took a drink of his water.
