Chapter 11 #2
“Or wrong place, wrong time, depending on one’s perspective.
New dude taught Masterson a lesson, messed him up good, called the cops, and pressed charges.
The courts did nothing about the titanium plates in her skull, but the boxer let a jab through so he’d have something to complain about, and now Josey’s dad is in his fourth year of eight.
He’s a prick, and this is totally his MO.
But there’s no alibi tighter than the one he has. ”
“Alright, well…” I fold one arm across my chest and glance up as the afternoon sun burns the back of my neck. “We’ll strike him off and keep moving. Anything else I need to know?”
“Yeah. You said Josey had a boyfriend?”
“Are you saying otherwise?”
“Yep. I tracked him down and called him up, just like you asked me to. While you’re over there being Drake Banks’ best buddy, I’m doing the secretarial shit and calling ahead to line interview times up.”
I roll my eyes.
“Caleb’s at home and ready to chat when you get there, but FYI: he said they broke up about six weeks ago.”
“They… what?” I glance across at the Carpenters’ opening front door and watch Drake step outside. He stands on the stoop and offers them a card. Call us if you think of anything else. “But her mom said—”
“Caleb claims it was quiet. They’re still friends, and there are no hard feelings.
Yada yada yada. She was heading off to college, and he’s looking at jumping all in on the military, so they agreed to cool things off a little.
They knew they needed to focus, and long-distance relationships tend to get tricky.
They didn’t want to tarnish six years of happiness with something that might’ve turned bitter and fell apart anyway, so they took a step back and committed to spending the summer as friends. ”
“Did he sound like he was full of shit, secretly mad about the breakup, and slit her throat anyway?”
He snorts. “No, he sounded like he actually meant it. But I’ve locked you in for five o’clock over at his place. His parents will be present, too. I’ll send you the address.”
“Thanks.” I lock eyes with Drake as he turns from the Carpenters’ front door and heads this way. Dropping my gaze, I lower my voice just for Fletch. “I miss you.”
He barks out a laugh so loud I just know it stops traffic.
“I wanna tease you for sounding like a pussy, but I miss you too. I don’t see any mushroom clouds in the sky from the Banks/Malone blow up yet, so whatever you’re doing, keep doin’ it.
Finish this out, catch a killer, kiss Fabian’s ring, and fix what you broke.
You talked to Mayet since we split this morning? ”
“No, why?” I push off the hood of my car and beat Banks to the driver’s side door. “Did something happen?”
“I heard she’s cracking the whip and arguing with Solomon. Aubree’s been texting me sneaky updates,” he snickers. “But I meant, have you heard from Chief Medical Examiner Mayet? Do we have anything new on the autopsy?”
“Nah. But I need to call her in a minute anyway. We’ve got a thing on tonight that she technically knows about, but she hasn’t mentioned it, and she woke up entirely too happy, so I think she forgot.
Or she’s intentionally blocking it out of her consciousness because she doesn’t wanna face it.
I’ve been biding my time all day, since telling her about our dinner plans too early will ruin her whole day.
But telling her too late will piss her off. ”
“You mean at Justin’s?”
“Yeah, are you—”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Mia and I are coming, too. Do you think Sera will be there?” His voice grows a little faster. Excited. “I love you, dude, but don’t even think about sitting beside me. I only have two sides, and Mia has dibs on one. I wanna leave the other open for Sera.”
“You’re a fuckin’ mess.” I laugh and drag the car door open.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I ignore Banks’ ugly scowl and turn the engine over, purely so I can switch the pathetic AC on and get a little relief from the heat.
“I’ll sit across from you. Makes for a better view when Fifi punches you in the nuts, anyway. ”
“Real nice,” he drones. “You wish violence and unhappiness on me so freely?”
“I wish entertainment for myself, and a distraction for my wife, since she’ll be grumpy about the dinner she’ll claim was sprung on her. Good work on that stuff you figured out today. Banks and I are headed to the next family now.”
“The Mundys?”
“Yep. Simone Mundy, fifteen years old. She’s been Josey’s client for a year. We’ll swing by and see what they think about all this, then we’ll get Caleb on the way back.”
“Then dinner.”
I snort. “Then dinner. We still need to track the Prims down, since they’re the last on the list. Set them up for me and Banks and let me know when they’re expecting us.”
“Will do. Also, I checked out the movie theater alleyway Josey’s phone last pinged at.
I’ve got it taped off and uniforms holding the scene until CSIs arrive, but…
” He noisily shakes his head. “I don’t see anything, Arch.
No blood on the ground, no tire tracks, no glass, nothing to indicate she was ever there.
It’s entirely possible our perp got lucky and all of our evidence is inside the car. ”
“Maybe. But we know she was there, and we know what time she arrived. Get us a warrant and pull traffic cam footage, then we can watch the car leave. Might be able to follow it.”
“Paperwork’s already on McArthur’s desk. We’re just waiting for a signature.”
“See?” I snicker. “This is what makes you a damn good partner, Fletch. It’s like you can read my mind.”
Drake bristles and growls low on his breath.
Pussy.
“Uh-huh, and since you’re already so complimentary, you should know Clay and I have uniforms walking the road all the way from the dump site to town.”
“But seeing as how you didn’t lead with that information, I assume there’ve been no cute little bags with bloodied clothes, a knife, and a confession letter discovered, huh?”
He snorts. “Nope. But it’s still early days, so I’m not giving up hope yet.”
“Are you fuckin’ done yet?” Drake snarls like a feral dog, turning in his seat and jamming his back against the door. “Conducting conversations about our case, but excluding me, feels a little like our partnership could do with some work, Malone.”
“Yikes,” Fletch snickers in my ear. “You got trouble in paradise. Keep the lid on that mushroom cloud, Arch. Update your partner. Come home to me when this is all over.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I hang up and cut Fletch’s barking laughter off with a tap of my finger.
Locking my phone and tossing it into the console between our seats, I check my side mirrors and pull away from the curb, fixing my seatbelt while we move.
“Calm the hell down, Special Agent Fuckface. I was receiving updates from our assisting colleagues, and fully intended to pass them along to you just as soon as our call ended.”
“So what are the updates? Stop wasting my damn time.”
Stop being such a fucking bitch. But I can’t say that shit out loud without risking a mushroom cloud in the sky, so I bring us around a corner and head toward the Mundys’ home.
“Alan Masterson—Josey’s dad—is in prison on an eight-year stint for assault and battery.
He’s only four years in and has an alibi we won’t undo. ”
“Then we’ll strike him off our list.” He pulls out his trusty notebook and literally strikes the dude’s name off. “We’ll put a call in to the prison and speak to the warden. Make sure everything is square over there. But for now, we’ll set him aside.”
I roll my eyes. No duh. “Also, Josey’s boyfriend isn’t her boyfriend anymore.”
Fierce green eyes whip across and warm the side of my face. He’s like a hound, and he just caught a scent he likes. “Explain.”
“Fletch called to line up a meeting for us. Caleb agreed, and he’s waiting for us, but he volunteered that they broke up six weeks ago.
Heading in different directions, didn’t wanna risk a long-distance romance, blah blah blah.
They committed to friendship for the summer, and according to Fletch, it all looks legit. We’re heading to his place at five.”
Thoughtful, he settles back in his seat and stares out at the road. “So either he’s playing us, or he’s one of the few dudes on the planet totally chill about a breakup?”
“Pretty much.” I follow the maps I long ago stamped onto the back of my mind and head just a dozen blocks away from the Carpenters’ house. From one family neighborhood to another. “We’ll meet up and rule him out—or not—ourselves. What do you think about Peter Carpenter?”
“That he’s a father of three girls, and Josey’s death is hitting him pretty hard.
He presents as kinda angry, when really, he’s pissing his pants scared.
I think he spent the entire time we were there worried about his other two daughters, since Mom sent them next door so we could speak, and now that we’re done, I’m not sure he’s gonna let them out of his sight ever again.
” He flexes his jaw and glances my way. “I think I pre-judged him as a man with rage issues, so every time he spoke, I filtered his words through the assumptions I’d made. At first, anyway.”
“And now?”
“Now, I feel comfortable removing him from our list of suspects. You?”
I hate to admit it so easily, but I drop my chin in acknowledgment. “Yep.” Fuck, it tastes like sour lemons on my tongue. “Agreed.”