Page 81 of Forever Gone

Selena checked the time.

She had been back at the Wilson Motel for less than an hour. A shower had removed the dust from Boyd Cutler’s house and the long drive, but not the restlessness left by the day. Karen Sloane was dead. Ruth Keller was dead. Linda Mercer remained missing. Boyd’s alibi had weakened their only promising lead before they could build momentum from it.

The television screamed again.

Selena sat up.

“Unbelievable.”

She crossed the room barefoot, pulled on jeans, and exchanged her sleep shirt for a sweatshirt. Her weapon and badge went beneath a light jacket before she stepped outside.

The parking lot had cooled. A few cars occupied spaces near the far end, their windows reflecting the red and blue flicker from Eric’s television. Room curtains were closed. Nobody else had come out to complain, though the television was loud enough to make the office windows tremble.

Selena walked toward reception.

The film’s soundtrack grew clearer with each step. A man shouted that the ritual could not be stopped. Someone laughed from inside the office.

Not Eric.

Selena opened the door.

Kelly sat on a stool behind the counter with a paper cup in one hand. Her jacket hung over the back of Eric’s chair. The neat knot she had worn that morning had loosened, allowing strands of black hair to fall near her cheeks. A bottle of whiskey stood beside the register.

Eric occupied his usual place in front of the television. On-screen, a masked figure carried a shovel through a graveyard set constructed from painted foam and artificial fog.

Eric turned.

“Hey, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“I hate to sound like an angry mom, but I came to ask you to turn that down.”

He picked up an empty paper cup and placed it on the counter. “You need a drink more than you need quiet.”

Before Selena could refuse, he poured a small measure of whiskey and slid the cup toward her.

Kelly raised her own. “We were just reminiscing about school.”

“That’s right,” Selena said. “You two were probably in the same year.”

Eric settled back in his chair. “We hated each other back then.”

“Hard to imagine.”

Kelly drank and gave a short laugh. “Selena hates me because I bullied her.”

Eric turned away from the television completely. The film continued without him, a priest shouting from inside a stone chamber while the soundtrack climbed toward another cheap shock. Kelly seemed amused by her own bluntness, but the set of her mouth suggested she had been circling the subject before Selena entered.

The statement stopped Selena’s hand above the cup.

Eric’s smile disappeared. He glanced between them, trying to judge whether the statement belonged to the whiskey or to a conversation he had already heard.

“I don’t hate you, Kelly,” Selena said. “And don’t let the whiskey loosen your lips too much. We’re up early.”

Kelly lowered her cup. “I know.”

Eric reached for the remote and reduced the volume. “Well, I say let bygones be bygones. We were all kids.”

“Yeah,” Selena said. “But then some kids do terrible things.”