Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [10]
“Footloose and fancy free, as of Monday.” Evan nodded.
“How’d he get out so soon?” Miranda frowned.
“First offense plus good behavior equals a light sentence. Eight months in the county prison, three years probation.”
“And he is where now?”
“In a trailer park about four miles from here.”
“Really?” She mulled this over. “Explains why we’re meeting in beautiful downtown Fleming.”
“Never could put a thing past you, Cahill.”
Miranda’s cup froze momentarily midway between her mouth and the saucer. She’d know that voice anywhere.
Shit.
“Hello, Will,” she said to the newcomer without looking up. “I wasn’t aware you’d be in on this powwow.”
“We’ve invited Will to join us because of his computer skills as well as his insightful investigative ability,” Jared explained.
“My charm, wit, and dashing personality had nothing to do with it.” Will Fletcher took the seat next to Evan, seemingly oblivious to the flash of annoyance that crossed Miranda’s face.
“Aren’t you lucky to have those computer skills to fall back on,” she murmured.
“How about if we get Mrs. Duffy back and put in our order for lunch so we can get started.” Jared went off in search of the owner.
“You’re looking well, Cahill.” Will faced Miranda from the opposite side of the table.
“Thank you.” She chose not to return the compliment, though he did, in fact, look pretty good. He always did. Dark hair, dark eyes. Great body.
Forget it, she cautioned herself. That game has been played out.
“I can take your orders if you’re ready.” The blonde woman Miranda met out front had followed Jared back into the narrow room.
“Let’s make this quick.” Jared trailed after her. “We have a lot to cover today.”
Orders were hastily placed, glasses of water replenished by a young man wearing a white buttoned-
down shirt and khakis, and the door separating the small dining room from the larger one was pulled partially closed.
“Alrighty, then, folks.” Jared removed a folder from the briefcase that rested on the vacant chair next to the one in which he sat. “Time to get down to business. If I recall correctly, everyone here—except for Agent Fletcher and me—has had some contact—direct or indirect—with our subject, Archer Lowell.”
Anne Marie, Evan, and Miranda all nodded.
“Archer Lowell, age twenty years, ten months, first child and only son of Lionel and Sissy Lowell. Father left home when the boy was three. Graduated from Fleming Regional High in 2001, ranked three hundred twenty out of three hundred seventy-three students. Worked as a driver for All-County Auctions from June of 2001, until he was arrested for stalking and assaulting Amanda Crosby in 2002.” Jared looked up from the sheet of paper that lay before him on the table. “Your sister, Detective.”
“Correct.” Evan’s jaw tightened.
“He entered a plea, accepted a reduced sentence at the strong urging of his lawyer.” Jared folded the sheet of paper neatly in half. “So much for past history.”
“So what’s he done since he’s been released?” Will asked.
“Nothing yet. At least, nothing that we know of,” Jared said.
“It’s what he’s expected to do that’s the problem,” Miranda told him.
“What’s he expected to do?” Will frowned.
“Murder three people,” Anne Marie replied.
“Who is he going to murder?”
“If we knew that, Will, we wouldn’t be having this meeting,” Jared said, holding up a hand to stop the conversation while the young male waiter returned to serve their lunch.
“Anyone need anything else?” the waiter asked. Assured that no one did, the young man left the room, and once again closed the door.
“Somehow I get the feeling that I’m the only person in this room who doesn’t quite know what’s going on.” Will’s gaze went from one face to the next, stopping when he reached Miranda.
“That must be a first,” she murmured as she picked a slice of tomato from her sandwich.
Ignoring her, he turned to Jared.
“How ’bout you bring me up to speed?”
Jared nodded and finished chewing a mouthful of sandwich.
“Several months ago, there was a series of murders in Lyndon, a community about