“I fit the description,” Wade pointed out.“So do you.”
Jackson put his notebook away.“I agree that it’s vague, and between you and me, Charlie is an unreliable witness.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s a heavy drinker with a bad temper.He’s also got a young, pretty wife who sleeps around.”
Wade arched a brow.“Was she home at the time?”
“He says she wasn’t.”
“Maybe she ran out the back door, too.”
“Maybe she did,” Jackson agreed.“Either way, I want to speak to the neighbor.I met him the other day when I was doing wellness checks.There was something off about him.”
Wade followed his gaze to a sign that readLost Lake Retreats.A winding road appeared to circle around the lake, with rustic cabins nestled among some looming pine trees.Beyond the cabins was a large RV campground that catered to summer tourists.In a few months, every space would be filled.
“What do you mean bysomething off?”Wade asked.
“He was guarded.On edge.”
“A tornado came through.Everyone was on edge.”
“Not like this.When I came up on him, he was hammering something.He had the radio blaring, so he didn’t hear me until I got close.Then he whirled around and lifted the hammer like he was going to brain me with it.”
Wade let out a low whistle.“Did you draw on him?”
“No,” Jackson said.“I rested my hand on my holster, but I didn’t move.He lowered the hammer and let it drop.He seemed kind of embarrassed about his jumpiness.His left arm was in a sling, so maybe he was touchy because of that.I pretended he hadn’t scared the shit out of me, asked a few questions, and left.”
“Did you run him?”
“I did.He’s clean.”
“Well damn,” Wade said, his interest sparked.“And your dad said this town was sleepy.”
“It has its moments.You ready?”
“Let’s go.”
They drove the short distance to the suspect’s location.The cabins in Lost Lake Retreats were grouped by twos, and most appeared to have sustained minor damage in the tornado.Jackson came to a stop behind a rusted white work truck at the last set of cabins.Wade parked underneath a nearby tree and joined him.
Jackson indicated the white pickup.“This vehicle was purchased in Houston less than a week ago.”
Wade surveyed the construction equipment and supplies in the bed of the truck.Then he glanced toward the front of the cabin, where a tall figure loomed inside the screened doorway.“He’s home.”
Jackson squared his shoulders and moved forward.He might be a rookie, but he didn’t lack courage.Wade followed with his right hand on his gun holster, his muscles coiled with tension.A lot of things could go wrong on a visit like this.Wade noted that the Franklin residence was visible through the sparse oak trees between the cabins and the trailer park.It wouldn’t be difficult for them to keep an eye on the neighbors.
“Good afternoon, Mr.Murphy,” Jackson said, touching his Stetson in greeting.“Do you mind coming outside for a quick chat?”
The man’s face was obscured by the screen.“What’s it regarding?”
“Stolen property.”
After a pause, Murphy opened the door.Wade understood why the guy had unsettled Jackson.He was built like a brick wall, with a boxer’s ready stance and icy blue eyes.Although his left arm was in a sling, as described, he didn’t appear weakened by the injury.Wade estimated the man’s height, weight, age, and striking distance as he stepped forward.He was wearing loose clothing, which could disguise a weapon, and slip-on shoes that wouldn’t help him win a footrace.
Jackson cleared his throat and continued.“One of the residents in this area reported a theft.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”Murphy asked in a low voice.
