I sigh heavily when I think of people who might dislike me. Where would I begin?
The guys on the squad? So many were complete jerks to me, but murder? I can’t fathom that. Besides, the alpha males got what they wanted: my departure. All threats that a woman might get a promotion ahead of themselves have been vanquished.Stand down, boys.
There have been a few people I’ve upset by some of the things I’ve exposed through my PI work, and sometimes through the DNA testing and research I ordered up through Jess’s company.
I’ve informed an adult child that her father isn’t her blood parent. I’ve exposed that a man has two entirely different families and his wife simply thought he traveled a lot. Discoveries that have surely stoked anger—betrayed realities, emotional foundations crumbling, inheritances affected. Right up to my current Clarissa Haynes case, where she’d been working on exposing the potential pollution of a rare fen on Ridgeway’s property and thwarting the sale of the land to Volanex.
There’s also the fact that Ridgeway is an artist. I recall our interaction when I first entered his home and noted the prints of the naked women on his walls. I relay all this to Alderson and Greene.
Both of them make notes.
I clear my throat before I ask, “I’d love it if you could use your special FBI powers to dig a little deeper into Clarissa Haynes’s death.” A part of me knows it’s a big stretch to ask this of them. The two cases might have zero to do with one another, but it can’t hurt. And I can’t shake the idea that the sketch, if it is of me, came out two weeks after I pissed Ridgeway off.
“Deeper how?”
“Pull the forensics reports from the Teton County Sheriff’s Department. See what they have so far. Maybe that will give us some direction. Maybe we’ll see some connection.”
Alderson pushes out his lower lip and nods, like he’s open to the idea. Greene’s face stays set in stone, unconvinced.
“You said yourself”—I turn to Alderson—“the person who put the sketch out might not even be the same person. They might be a copycat. Don’t you think it would be good to know as much as we can about Ridgeway and the murder of Clarissa Haynes since that’s what I’ve been most involved with?”
“You’re making some pretty big leaps here,” Greene says. “You don’t even know if she was murdered for sure.”
“She was,” I say. “And you should check it out if you want to be thorough.”
The two glance at each other. I can see I’ve struck a chord. They don’t want to make any mistakes. Not with a case like the Confession Artist snaring the entire nation’s attention.
“We’ll look into it,” Alderson says. “What about other artists?”
I shake my head. A few, I think. Including my sister. But could any of them draw something so specific, so well rendered? I doubt it.
But the big lie still clings to me like someone’s tightly rolled me up in a filthy film of plastic wrap. My fib to Ewing boomerangs back to me. I do have something I should feel ashamed of. It just isn’t what he thinks it is. It has nothing to do with “causing trouble” for Hartley.
The worst thing, next to my guilt over dragging Sophie camping, is how I let my rage get the best of me at Coleman’s place with the OIS investigator.
But there’s no way I’m exposing that.
Chapter 16
The light was thinning into a drizzly October evening, and I was nearing the end of my shift when I heard that Railes needed backup for a DV.
It was always best to dispatch two officers for a domestic violence call. One can separate and ask questions while the other checks prior history and arrest warrants, finds out if firearms are on the premises, and interviews neighbors if needed.
Railes should have waited for me so we could go in together, but he didn’t have a lot of patience. And he was among those who’d hopped up quickly on the backlash bandwagon in support of Hartley. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the one who put the bloated mouse in my locker.
Dumbass,I thought to myself. My anger already roiled at the base of my belly. I probably shouldn’t have taken the call to assist him. My shift was almost over anyway, and Wallace was promising me a homemade lasagna at his place.
But I was closest to the scene, and other units were on the other side of town due to a big monster truck event. Plus, if I didn’t take reinforcement calls due to the backlash, I wouldn’t be providing any backup at all. Most of the department was now lined up against me.
In many ways, my fate was already decided.
I stepped out and walked toward the house, where shouting spilled into the cool night.
The small single-story crouched at the base of a ridge and was poorly maintained. Dull peeling paint, cardboard duct-taped over a missing windowpane, the outside stoop smelled of urine in the damp air. I climbed two porch steps to an open door and announced I was entering so I didn’t surprise anyone, especially Railes.
Inside, on one side of the room, Railes was in a heated exchange with a tall, well-muscled guy with a beard and a slightly crooked nose. He had a deep, bloody scratch across his cheek.
He seemed familiar. Maybe I’d pulled him over. Maybe I’d seen him in a bar. He looked like a rough yet handsome bouncer.
