“I need to clear up some timing coincidences between your arrival and my deputy’s disappearance. Should only take a few minutes.”
Fuck.
“Colton,”Detective Jameson Bishop says from the top of the stairs. The Rackhouse Bed-and-Breakfast is big enough that I should’ve been able to miss seeing yet another fucking cop in my path.
“Nofuckingway,” I mumble to myself as I open the porch screen door and head outside. I’m jogging down the steps and toward my truck when I hear him hustle up behind me.
“Colton, will you fucking—” I hear him rush out.
I haven’t figured out the homicide detective yet. Fury is an asshole and seems like he’s got plenty of shit to cover up, but Jameson isn’t that. My gut has always said to steer away from getting too friendly with anyone who has the power to put you in handcuffs, but he cut into the almost two hour “chat” Sheriff Fury requested as I was leaving last night.
“Sir, there are two homicides that I’d like to wrap up and need your signature on my reports. I’d really like to get the hell out of here.”He glanced at me and then back at Fury. Quietly he leaned into the sheriff and said, “This isn’t progress, it’s going to be a problem.” It was enough for the sheriff to thank me for my cooperation and politely suggest I do not leave town.
I’m not fucking planning on it.And there isn’t a damn thing I cooperated on. He asked questions and I danced around the answers.
Did I know Deputy Billings?No.
Had I ever met him or crossed paths?Technically, no. He wasn’t crossing anything when I saw him.
Do you know what might have happened to him?
All I had to say to that was, “Never met the guy. If I was to guess what had happened, I doubt I’d be right.”
I look over my shoulder at Jameson hustling toward me.What the fuck is it with cops following me lately? I’m usually better at evading this shit.“Unless you’re going to tell me I look pretty, Detective, I’ve got somewhere to be,” I call out.
Inside that station last night exercised the very last of my patience. I got home late, then spent the day finally working through commission requests and voicemails from my agent. And now, I want to see the woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
“I’ll take a ride if you’re heading out for Full Moon Fest,” he says, now standing next to the passenger door. When I raise my narrowed eyes to his, he holds up his hand. “Tommy mentioned you were going. I didn’t peg you for a bluegrass guy.”
I look over at his truck, but he’s already got the back door of my Bronco open, sliding his guitar across the back seat before I can ask why he won’t drive himself.
“Not so much a bluegrass guy as I am a Wyn Crowne guy,” I tell him honestly.
He shuts the door and looks at me with a shit-eating grin.
With the exception of Nash, not much seems to crack the detective’s deliberately stoic exterior. I understand it. Career aside, I know the effectiveness of taking emotions out of situations—I’ve been doing it most of my life. Until recently.
“We haven’t known each other very long, but you smiling like that is throwing me off,” I say to him jokingly.
He shakes his head. “You’re throwing a lot of people off around here. But I’m not going to pretend I’m not glad to hear that, about Wyn. I mean, the bluegrass part’s a shame. You might change your mind on that one once you see this thing we’re heading to.”
I flip on the radio and glance in the back seat. “A musician and a cop? Wouldn’t have guessed that one, either, Detective.”
He sniffs out a laugh. “Haven’t been one in a long time. Tommy dug that thing out of his workspace and casually left it for me outside my bedroom door this morning.”
That seems to be a bit of a pattern for Tommy, digging things up. The pieces I found that connected my dad to this place seem like an anchor to a life I don’t know anything about.
“I used to live here, I’d play at this festival once a month every summer, and then left for a while,” he says, pausing. “I’m a couple towns over now. I’m in and out of Rumor for cases. Thought I’d miss this month’s full moon, but this bullshit with Billings has kept me here for way longer than necessary. Tonight is a silver lining.”
I wanted to know a little more about the body I’d erased. “Heard some interesting things at Moonie’s about him,” I offer.
“Billings?” he asks.
I nod, and he adds, “Yeah, I’m sure you did. Everyone in this town really makes sure it earns its namesake, but the more I hear about the shit Billings was involved in—” He cuts himself off. “I doubt he ran off with someone. I’m almost positive it’ll end up in my caseload soon enough.”
A few minutes go by of listening to the sound of Stevie’s voice play over the speakers, talking about the stupidity of local law enforcement. “I’m assuming this is the episode Fury detained her for?” I ask him.
He’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “If I had to guess. I mean, she’s not wrong. Although, the visual of Sheriff Fury fucking himself on a pogo stick, as she so eloquently put it, is one I didn’t need.
