Chapter 17
Too impatient to search for a space in the crowded lot, Colly parked on a side street and hurried to the school. Brenda was waiting at the entrance.
“What happened?” Colly demanded.
“We haven’t gotten the whole story yet.” Brenda led her inside and down the hall. “Satchel brought matches—from the farmhouse, I assume. Or maybe from Iris’s. He won’t say.”
“Oh, God. Is everyone all right?”
“Satchel’s got a couple minor burns, but Wanice caught him before anything horrific happened.”
“It’s been months—I thought we were past all this. Do I need to take him out of school?” Colly wondered how she would manage a murder investigation with a seven-year-old in tow.
Brenda paused at the door to the central office suite. “Hopefully not, but we’ve got to be sure he won’t do it again. We thought if you talked to him—”
“Where is he?”
“Wanice’s with him. The other kids are at lunch.”
Colly followed Brenda past the front desk and through the door marked “School Counselor.” The office appeared empty; it took a second for Colly to spot the top of the teacher’s head. Wanice Boyles was seated on the floor behind the desk. Hearing the door open, she clambered stiffly to her feet and smiled.
“Satchel, look who’s here.” Wanice met Colly’s eyes and pointed downward.
“No hurry,” Brenda said. “We’ll be in the classroom.”
After they’d gone, Colly stepped behind the desk. Satchel was curled in the cramped space beneath it, hugging his knees and sniffling into the crook of his arm. His white-blond hair glowed in the dim light.
Colly sat cross-legged on the floor. “Satchel, what were you thinking?”
The boy shivered.
“You’re not in trouble. Tell me what happened. Where’d you find the matches?”
Satchel said nothing.
“I’m not mad.”
“Yes, you are,” he murmured into his sleeve.
“I’m not, I promise.” She reached beneath the desk to rub his back. “Where were they?”
“Your purse.”
“My purse ? You know that’s not—” Colly stopped herself. “When?”
“This morning. You were in the bathroom.”
“Satchel, why? Look at me.” She tried to pull his arm away from his face, but he resisted, hugging his knees more tightly. Colly caught a glimpse of his bandaged fingers.
“A boy called me a bad name,” he whispered. “Everyone laughed.”
“What bad name?” Colly waited. “Never mind. Remember how to put up your forcefield like Dr. Bracken showed you?”
“That doesn’t work.”
“Neither does burning yourself.”
“It makes me feel better. I don’t know why.”
Colly’s head had begun to ache. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t play with fire, buddy. You just can’t.”
“Why’d my mom give me such a stupid name?”
“You’re named after a great baseball player. And don’t change the subject. Promise you won’t play with fire.”
Satchel looked doubtful. He hunched his shoulders, then nodded.
“Say it.”
“I promise.”
“Good boy.” Colly pulled him onto her lap and kissed his forehead. “Let’s go.”
They found Brenda and Wanice in the second-grade classroom, talking quietly at the teacher’s desk.
“Satchel has something to say.” Colly nudged him forward.
He stared at the floor. “Sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“Thank you, Satchel. That’s very brave.” Brenda extended her hand. “You’re probably starving. I’ll walk you to the cafeteria. We can have a chat while we go.”
Satchel looked uncertainly at Colly but allowed himself to be led away.
When they were gone, Colly turned to Wanice. “I don’t know what got into him.”
The teacher smiled sympathetically. “Brenda mentioned there was an incident last night that could’ve triggered something?”
“He saw some blood. But I never thought—” Colly’s head throbbed. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket with an incoming text, but she ignored it. “I understand if you’re not comfortable keeping him in class.”
“He’s a sweet little boy. I’d love to have him if Brenda okays it. She’s the expert.”
Brenda returned alone after a few minutes. “I think he’ll be all right now. I should’ve anticipated how traumatic last night might’ve been.”
“You’re not the one with matches in your purse,” Colly said. “I switched bags before we left Houston. I must not have checked it well.”
“That’s where he got them?”
“He says so, but it’s odd. I’m always so careful.” She suddenly remembered that she had left her purse in Brenda’s van during dinner the night before. Was it possible that whoever booby-trapped the van had left the matches as well?
“Goodness, there’s no telling what’s in my old handbags,” Wanice was saying.
“Mine either.” Brenda laughed. “I’m always running late for something when I switch purses, so I never clean them out properly. Come on, Col, I’ll walk you out.”
Outside, the air was still muggy, but the sky had lightened to a pale, hazy gray, and the threat of rain seemed to have lifted.
Colly glanced at her watch. “What a day, and it’s only eleven-thirty. I’m glad you were here, Bren. From now on, I’ll frisk him every morning.” Colly chewed her lip. “I heard that fire-starting and bed-wetting are early signs of—of psychopathy. Is that true?”
Brenda shot her a quick look. “Studies do indicate some link between those traits and antisocial personality disorder.”
Colly’s phone buzzed again. She ignored it. “Should I be worried?”
Brenda hesitated. “Kids harm themselves for lots of reasons, Col—I’ve seen it at the clinic. When they can’t find a way to process emotional pain, they try to externalize it.”
“I know. But what do I do ?”
“Sports can be a good outlet.”
“Sunlight’s a problem, though.”
“There are indoor sports. Karate, maybe. Or bowling.”
I’m scared he’s turning into Ted Bundy, and you want him to roll a ball at some sticks? Colly thought. She remembered the pile of lighters in Denny Knox’s bedroom. Was Brenda the reason Jolene had pushed him into baseball?
“I’ll look into it.”
“I know his Houston therapist says he’s doing well, but after what happened last night, it might help to have him talk to someone here. I’d be happy to do a couple sessions with him, if you want.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Colly’s phone buzzed again. She pulled it out and saw that Russ was calling. She’d missed several calls from him, as well as a text from an unknown number.
She apologized to Brenda and answered the phone.
“Where’ve you been?” Russ demanded irritably. “I’ve been calling for fifteen minutes.”
“Emergency at school.”
His voice softened immediately. “Is Satchel okay?”
“He’s fine. What’s up?”
“Jace Hoyer was at the ranch last night—around the time we were at Willis’s cabin.”
“He’s on security footage?”
“Yep. Parked down the hill and walked towards the house. Face isn’t real clear, but it’s him, all right. Tire tracks match his truck’s.”
“Does the video show him planting the snake?”
“Brenda was parked in a blind spot. But Jace was heading that way. It’s circumstantial, but let’s talk to him.”
“Tell Avery to meet me at the Hoyers’ trailer. We’ll bring him in for an interview.”
“He’ll never agree—”
“Then I’ll arrest him for criminal trespass, or for the illegal meat sales.”
“I’ll get to the station and cue up the video.”
Colly hung up. “Gotta run, Bren.” Unlocking her car, she glanced down at the anonymous text and froze.
“What’s wrong?” Brenda asked.
Colly clutched the phone. “Nothing I have time to worry about now. Thanks for the advice about Satchel—I appreciate it.”
She drove a few blocks, then stopped and put on her glasses to reread the text, which had been sent while she was talking to Wanice Boyles: SECOND WARNING. YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE THE THIRD.
Driving towards Lonestar Estates, Colly tried to clear her mind and focus on the task ahead. What were the chances that Hoyer would come to the station voluntarily? She hoped she didn’t have to arrest him. He had guns on the property. A standoff—or worse, a shoot-out—in a trailer park would be a nightmare. They’d have to keep things low-key, if possible. Friendly and non-threatening.
She pulled over beside the entrance to the park and texted Avery: Approach w lightbar off.
Fifteen minutes later, the patrol car pulled up next to her, and Avery rolled down the window. She looked tense but eager. “What’s the plan?”
“We’ve got the advantage of surprise. Let’s keep guns holstered but block their drive. Go ahead—I’ll follow.”
I should’ve reminded her to take it easy , Colly thought. But trailing the cruiser through the narrow lanes, she was pleased to see that Avery drove slowly, as if on casual patrol. Whatever her failings, Russ was right—the girl had strong instincts.
Carmen’s hatchback still sat in the Hoyers’ drive. Colly pulled up close behind it, while Avery parked across the track leading to the garage. As they started around the trailer, Colly caught a flash of movement in one of the windows. A pair of eyes peered through a gap in the blinds. So much for the advantage of surprise.
Entering the back lot, they saw that they were too late. Jace Hoyer’s red truck had vanished, along with the two pit bulls. Inside the garage, a large, stippled lump lay on the ground—the hog carcass, growing slimy in the heat and crawling with blowflies.
“He left it to rot? Gonna be some stink by tomorrow.” Avery exhaled sharply.
“Guess we spooked him.”
“Should we search the place? It’s open.”
“Let’s wait for a warrant. Play it safe. I’ll—”
Colly was interrupted by the thud of running footsteps and a sudden, piercing scream. She turned. A figure rushed towards her brandishing a long, dark object. Colly raised her arm to fend off the blow, but before it struck, something ploughed into her ribcage, knocking her aside. The ground rushed up, and her skull smacked into the hard-packed earth with a sickening crunch and a burst of white light.
Stunned, Colly rolled onto her back. At first, she could make little sense of what she saw—a blur of color and frenzied motion that slowly resolved into the image of two forms battling above her. Avery was trying to wrestle a baseball bat away from the attacker, who, Colly realized with a shock, was Jolene Hoyer. Still in her housecoat and slippers, Jolene shrieked and gibbered as she clung to the bat.
Fighting nausea, Colly sat up, but before she could climb to her feet, someone else raced past her and seized Jolene from behind, pinning her arms.
“ Stop it, Jo.” Carmen was trying to haul her sister backwards.
With Jolene partially immobilized, Avery yanked the bat away and tossed it angrily into the weeds.
“What the fuck , Jolene? You don’t have enough problems without adding ‘assaulting a police officer’ to the list? You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.” She handcuffed the struggling woman and turned to help Colly to her feet. “Sorry I knocked you over. You all right?”
“Little dizzy.” Colly dabbed cautiously at her forehead.
“I shoulda killed you,” Jolene sobbed, still in her sister’s arms. “You wrecked your own family, now you’re wrecking mine? Why don’t you ask Lowell Newland who killed my Denny?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jolene continued to cry but said nothing.
Colly brushed the dirt from her jeans. “Avery, take her to the car.”
“With pleasure.” Avery seized Jolene by one arm and hauled her off.
Carmen moved to follow, but Colly stopped her. “What’s going on?”
Carmen chewed her lip. “Jace left.”
“What—when?”
“After he saw y’all taking pictures of his truck, he loaded it up and took off—told Jolene he was sick of her and this town and everyone in it.”
“Know where he went? Any relatives or friends he’d run to?”
Carmen shook her head.
“Did he take any weapons?”
“Jace don’t go nowhere without his guns.”
Colly sighed. “What did Jolene mean when she said to ask Lowell who killed Denny?”
Carmen shrugged, looking genuinely mystified.
Colly’s head was pounding. She swayed, suddenly dizzy, and Carmen steadied her. “Should you go to the ER?”
“I want to talk to your sister.”
In the driveway, they found Avery leaning against the cruiser.
Colly glanced through the rear window. The energy of Jolene’s rage had left her. She lay slumped on her side, her stringy hair obscuring her face.
“Get anything?” Colly asked.
Avery shook her head. “She wants a lawyer.”
“You arrested her?” Carmen’s voice held an edge of panic.
“Damn straight. She attacked police with a freakin’ baseball bat.”
“Please—she’s not herself.” Carmen appealed to Colly. “ You know what it’s like, losing a kid.”
Colly looked again at Jolene. She appeared unconscious, or asleep. “Let her go.”
Avery’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Do it.”
Grumbling, Avery jerked the door open and removed the handcuffs.
Carmen rushed forward. She pulled Jolene from the car and half-dragged, half-carried her towards the porch steps.
“What the hell?” Avery hissed once the sisters had gone inside. “She nearly brained you.”
“She won’t be any more trouble. I don’t want to waste time getting her to the station and booking her.” Colly pulled out her phone and dialed.
Russ answered quickly. “Got Jace?”
“Put out a BOLO. He’s in the wind, and he’s armed.” Colly briefly narrated the events of the last half-hour. “Any idea why Jolene thinks Lowell knows something about Denny?” The line was silent. “Russ, you still there?”
Russ cleared his throat. “Avery said Jolene’s taking drugs.”
“I think there’s more to it than that.” Colly glanced at her watch. “I’m heading to the turbine plant.”
“Right now?”
“I want to talk to Lowell.”
“He’s not at the plant—he’s supervising an installation.”
“Where?”
There was another silence. “You should get checked for a concussion first.”
“Where’s the goddamn installation, Russ?”
She heard him sigh. “You’ve had a head injury. I’ll take you.”
“What happened to you staying out of things?”
“I said I’d try. Don’t bring Avery. Lowell will be more candid if it’s just you and me.”
“I’ll be at the station in ten.” Colly hung up.
“No way,” Avery spluttered after hearing the plan. “I’m coming, too.”
Colly shook her head. “I want you at the turbine plant. Find Jimmy Meggs, take him along for backup. With Lowell gone, it’s the perfect time to interview the workers.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “What do I ask?”
“Get them talking, see what turns up. Jace didn’t tell us the whole truth about why he got fired. I want the real scoop.”