Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [113]
“No.”
“Did you apply for the job at the church before or after you found out Melvin Canter was out of prison and back in this county?”
They exchanged a look.
“After,” Beth said softly.
“How long have you been keeping track of him?”
“Five years. Since my divorce. I knew he’d been in prison for sexual assault.”
“Did you return to Bear Butte County with the intention of killing the man who’d raped you?”
Beth flinched.
I felt like Attila the Hun, but I repeated, “Did you?”
“I don’t know.”
BD’s eyes flashed angrily. “She wouldn’t have. 402
After she told me who she was . . . well, I started counselin’ her on not compoundin’ her problems by doin’ something rash.”
“Murder is pretty rash.” Not always entirely unjustified, but that wasn’t part of this conversation.
“Beth wouldn’t’ve done it. She’s a good Christian woman.”
I focused on Beth.
She stared back at me with haunted eyes. “BD’s wrong. I would have. Right after I got here, the first chance I saw him alone, I could’ve pulled my shotgun out and blasted that man in the face and rejoiced in seeing his brains splattered in the snow.”
“Beth—”
“It’s okay, BD, I can say that now because you helped me get past the bitterness. The angry child inside me is fading away.”
“So you came here to face your demons?”
“Yes,” she sniffed, “but I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”
Like hell I didn’t.
“Beth gave her burden over to Jesus Christ,” BD
added.
Bully for her. I preferred to give Smith and Wesson the first crack at my problems. “Was that before or after the two of you were caught making the beast with two backs over at Sacred Souls?”
Beth cringed.
BD the protector jumped to his feet again. “I told 403
you what happened. I was tryin’ to protect her from all this nastiness. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if people found out who she was? Then Doug Collins thought he saw something morally wrong, but he was the one who was wrong, and he—”
“—made a big fuss and Beth was fired. Yeah, I know. But isn’t it convenient that the body of the man who’d raped her ended up on the land of the man who’d fired her?”
By the collective silence, evidently they hadn’t considered that scenario.
“But she din’t have nuthin’ to do with Canter dyin’!”
Lots of times the most obvious answers were the right ones. But it didn’t make sense for Beth to track her prey incognito, kill her prey, set up her fall guy, and then allow her mask to be ripped off to reveal her true identity when she’d all but gotten away with it. If Beth slit Canter’s throat, I would’ve figured she’d be long gone by now, not in Bear Butte County, falling in love with BD Hoffman.
“Hey. I’m talkin’ to you.”
My attention snapped back to BD. “I will admit you both make a pretty convincing argument about her innocence. Unfortunately, I’m not the one you need to convince. Sheriff Richards is.”
“But—”
“You have a motive, Lizzie, or Beth, or whoever you’re calling yourself, a motive much stronger than 404
my father’s, as it turns out. And you can bet I will spill every detail about you, your sudden appearance in this county, and your motive to the sheriff. And you can also bet he’ll be around to ask you questions, so it’d be a helluva lot smarter for you to go to him first.” I pointed at the phone. “Call him. You can be sure I’ll be checking to see if you made the right choice.”
“Whoa. Wait a durn minute. You said something about your father?” BD demanded. “Who are you?”
“Julie Collins. Doug Collins is my father.”
With that embarrassing admission, I slunk out. I called Big Mike on the secret Batphone. “Any word from Nyla on the whereabouts of Jackal yet?”
“No. And I need you to give this phone back.”
“Nah. I kinda like having two. Makes me feel important.”
“Great. I’ve created a monster.”
“Enhanced a monster.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Just checking in.” I hung up first. Hah. Then I reached for Nyla’s diary. I flipped through the pages, which consisted of bad doodles, snippets of bad song titles, and bad poetry. It was so pathetic and sad I wanted to weep. No personal thoughts or