Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [84]
“Catch more flies with honey,” Ally said.
“I'll just watch them flit past, thanks.”
Ally chuckled. “Travis likes my legs. And it's such a little thing to make him happy.”
“A very little thing,” Paige murmured. “How's the pillow talk?”
“I don't kiss and tell.”
“Except on the air?”
“Well, we all have our boundaries, don't we?”
Paige half laughed and inclined her head slightly in a sort of salute. “You're good, I'll give you that much.”
“I usually get what I go after.”
“Didn't Cheryl Bayne say something like that?”
“She wasn't careful. Obviously. I am.”
“Speculation seems to be she stuck her nose in where it didn't belong.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“For us too.”
Ally shrugged. “My philosophy is, no sense being in the game unless you're willing to play all-out. I am. Like I said, I usually get what I go after.”
“You get any news on the body they found yesterday?”
Ally's internal debate was swift and silent. “Not a blonde and not a victim of our serial killer. The theory is, she died by accident.”
“And hung her own body in that old gas station?”
“No, our resident ghoul probably did that. A nice toy for him, already dead and everything.”
“Yuck.”
“Well, we knew he was sick and twisted. Now we know he's an opportunist too.”
Paige frowned. “If she wasn't one of his victims, how did he get his hands on her?”
“The mystery of the thing. I'm going to go out on a limb and say she had a connection to either him or one of the victims.”
“What kind of connection?”
“Dunno. Friend, family, a lover in common—something. She died by accident, he saw or knew and took advantage of the situation.”
Paige was still frowning. “There's got to be more to it. How, exactly, did she die?”
“That I don't know. Yet.”
“Is it true she'd been dead a couple of months?”
“About that.”
“Then she died before the first victim did. Maybe he liked playing with a dead body so much he decided to make a few of his very own?”
“Maybe.”
They stood on either side of the lamppost, leaning against it, and gazed across the street at the town hall. The downtown area was practically deserted. It was very quiet.
“I sort of wish I'd gone to church,” Paige said finally.
“Yeah,” Ally said. “Me too.”
Rafe wore his weapon in a hip holster, with the flap fastened; there was no way he could get to it; Hollis, like Isabel, wore her holster at the small of her back, also out of reach. Both she and Rafe stood frozen, their hands a little above waist height with the palms out, by training and instinct showing this dangerously unstable opponent the least threatening posture possible as his gun wavered between them.
“Tim, settle down,” Rafe advised calmly.
“Rose said she'd had enough,” Helton said, his voice as shaky as his gun hand. “That's it, that's why you're here. She told you. She come and told you, and now you've brought the feds out here.”
From her angle, Hollis caught only a glimpse of what she knew Rafe could see more clearly: Isabel, at the rear bumper of the hay truck. Like the other two, she had frozen the moment the doors had burst open, but unlike them, she wasn't visible to Tim Helton.
Unfortunately, he wasn't visible to her either, since the heavy barn door shielded him from her view.
Worse, she was standing knee-deep in brittle, noisy hay; any movement at all would draw his attention and take away whatever hope she had of surprising him.
Standing still, Isabel silently drew her weapon and held it in a practiced, two-handed grip, thumbing off the safety.
Then she looked toward Rafe and Hollis, brows lifting in a silent question.
“Tim, we haven't heard from Rose,” Rafe was saying, still calm. He kept his gaze fixed on Helton, though he could see Isabel from the corner of his eye. “That's why we're here, to look for her.”
“Liar. I heard them talking out here a while ago—they're feds. Both of 'em. You bring feds out here and think I don't know why? What am I, stupid? Where's the other one? You tell her to come out, Sullivan, and I mean quick. You know I ain't afraid to use this gun.”
“Tim, listen,” Rafe said.