fun to screw around with an out-of-towner.”
“Your name was in the paper?” Stevens asked.
Wes looked at Stevens, then at Andrews. Both detectives stared blankly back.
“The F-18 crash?” he said. “I was the first one on scene?”
“That’s right,” Stevens said. “I do remember reading that now.”
“Some jerk probably just went, ‘Eenie, meenie, miney, moe,’ and picked my name out of the article.”
“Perhaps,” Stevens said.
The two detectives shared another look, then Andrews said, “Two break-ins, an apparent car chase, a missing person, and now this? I don’t have a good feeling about you.”
Wes leaned forward. “Are you implying I might be responsible for any of those things?”
“We’re not
“My involvement in the break-ins and the chase were either as the victim or the friend of the victim, nothing more. And this message you received? It’s garbage.” Wes stood up. “So if there’s nothing else, I’m going back to my motel.”
Stevens appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, then he nodded and said, “I’m sorry we troubled you.”
Wes got the distinct feeling neither of the detectives was particularly sorry, but he refrained from saying as much, and turned to leave. “Excuse me,” he said to the still-sitting Andrews.
“You’ll need a ride back, Mr. Stewart,” Andrews said.
“I think I’ll walk.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Andrews insisted, rising to his feet. “I’ll drive you.”
Wes started to protest, but stopped. Walking back would take him at least twenty minutes, while the ride would only last three. “Fine.”
They rode in silence. The only time the detective said anything was when Wes got out of the car at the Desert Rose. “Stay out of trouble, Mr. Stewart.”
Wes shut the door without replying. As the police car disappeared, so did the anger that had been masking the feeling of nausea he’d had since he’d heard the message in Stevens’s office.
The anonymous tip had definitely not been a prank.
47
Anna threw her arms around him as he walked through the door. “What did they want?”
“It was a joke,” Wes said.
Her face scrunched together. “Joke?”
“Well … not so much a joke.” He told her about the anonymous tip.
“That’s just weird,” she said.
“No kidding.”
“Couldn’t the police have asked you about it here?”
“They wanted me to hear it. They were hoping I could identify the caller.”
“Could you?”
He shook his head. “No. Whoever it was disguised their voice.”
“What did the police say?”
Wes hesitated, then decided to tell her about Andrews’s insinuation that he might be involved with the other crimes.
She stared at him dumbfounded. “You’re leaving out the punch line, right?”
“I wish I was.”
“That’s stupid. You didn’t have any-”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. Right now I just want to take a shower and crawl into bed.”
He went into the bathroom and began to take his shirt off.
“Lars called,” Anna said. She was standing in the doorway.
Wes immediately tensed.
“He wants to talk to you.”
“I’ll bet he does.” He tossed his shirt on the floor.
“He was acting funny, too,” Anna said.
“Not surprising.” He put some paste on his toothbrush and started to brush his teeth.
“Well, he’s calling back in fifteen minutes.”
He pulled the toothbrush out. “Then he’ll have to leave a message, because I’m not talking to him.”
“I kind of promised you would,” she said sheepishly.
“You what?”
“Sorry. Didn’t think it would be a problem.” She paused. “But it was a promise.”
Wes groaned. “Fine!”
He took a quick shower, and had just pulled on some clean clothes when the phone rang.
“Hello?” he said.
“Wes … it’s Lars. Look, first off, I’m sorry about this morning.”
“Fine. Forgiven. Thanks for calling.” Wes started to pull the receiver away from his ear.
“Wait. That’s not why I called. Are you still there?”
As Wes raised the phone back to his ear, his cell vibrated in his pocket, indicating he’d gotten a text. He ignored it and said, “For the moment.”
“Anger aside, what I took you to see today-”
“I don’t want to talk about what we saw.”
“Sure. I get that. All I’m asking is that you give me a moment.”
Wes’s phone vibrated again. Annoyed, he pulled it out. There were two texts, but what caught Wes off guard was that they were both from Lars.
As he accessed them Lars said, “I know you’ve meant well, that your questions about Adair are only because you were concerned …”
Wes read the first message.
“… can appreciate that. And as I said before, your mistake was understandable …”
The second message read:
“I hope I’m making sense,” Lars said. “You understand what I’m getting at?”
Wes hesitated. “I think so.” Once more his phone buzzed.
Wes paused, thinking.
“Are you still there?” Lars asked.
A further moment of silence, then Wes made a decision and said, “Yeah, sorry. The shoot, the crash. You’re right, it’s been very stressful. And seeing Adair’s body today? I don’t know, I think it kind of freaked me out.… I guess what I’m saying is I think I probably misremember the crash. I apologize for any trouble I caused you, and I promise I won’t bring it up again.”
“It’s not easy seeing a man die,” Lars said. “It didn’t help that you weren’t able to get him out of there in time. But, in truth, you did all you could. Thank you for that.”
“I don’t know. I guess you’re right.”
“I’ve gotta run, but I’m glad we were able to talk.”
“Yeah. Me too. Take care,” Wes said, then hung up.
“Is everything okay?” Anna asked.
He was breathing deeply in and out, trying to calm down. “Everything’s fine.”
