the case.”
“He’s a powerful being, Uncle Bob.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
My brows furrowed as I steered through a mountain range.
After a long moment that had me wondering if we’d lost connection, he said, “I knew, pumpkin.”
I could almost picture Ubie’s head in his hand as he spoke, his voice pregnant with such regret, such sorrow, it caused a cinch around my chest. “You knew what?”
“I knew he didn’t do it.”
I stopped breathing as I waited for an explanation.
“I’m not stupid. I knew he didn’t do it, and I did nothing. All the evidence pointed directly at him, and because I didn’t want to look like a fool, I didn’t question it. Not for a minute. So you see,” he said, resigned to his fate, “we can’t fix this. He’ll come after me.”
I blinked in surprise. “No, he won’t. He’s not like that.”
“They’re all like that.” He seemed to welcome the idea, as though he deserved to be punished.
I sat stunned to my toes, not sure what to say, how to proceed. “Can I see the interrogation tape?” I asked him, clueless as to why I’d want to see it.
“You won’t find my outburst.” His tone had changed again, hardened. “I had friends in high places, and strangely that part of the tape was erased.”
“It’s not your outburst I want to see. It’s him. I met him when I was in high school, remember? I know how powerful he is, how dangerous. But he won’t come after you, Uncle Bob. I promise,” I said, mentally adding my name to the roster of the Big Fat Liars Club. I had no way of knowing what Reyes would do. What he was capable of. And I was helping to free the one man who might want my uncle dead. Deep down inside, I wondered if that made me a bad niece.
Chapter 18
There are very few personal problems that can’t be solved with a suitable application of high explosives.
When I got to the sheriff’s department, I jumped out of Misery and hit the ground running. My plan worked. I was in an interrogation room before Garrett could get inside. I told the sheriff everything I knew. Farley Scanlon was a bad guy. He practically threatened me with a knife and then left when he saw Garrett, then he slashed my tires while we ate. It wasn’t a difficult story for them to swallow, but I still had to account for every minute of the night, and they wanted to talk to Garrett to confirm.
So, while they interrogated him, I took off back out to Farley Scanlon’s house, the weight of Uncle Bob’s story still heavy on my chest. Or it could have been the fact that if Earl Walker was still at Farley Scanlon’s place, or happened to stop back by the scene of the crime, I’d just ditched my best defense. That would suck.
My cell sang out. I answered it. “Hey, Cook. I just ditched Garrett.”
“Good for you. You two weren’t really right for each other anyway.”
I grinned.
“So, here’s the word off the street.”
“I love it when you talk dirty.”
“Yolanda Pope’s niece almost died after having a routine tonsillectomy.”
“No way.”
“Way. Minutes after the good doctor showed up on the ward.”
“Which is suspicious because?”
“He had no patients that day. He’d performed no surgeries and had no one to check in on, yet he checked onto the ward. Yolanda’s niece went into cardiac arrest minutes after he checked out.”
“Oh, my gosh. How old was she?”
“Twelve. They chalked it up to a reaction to the anesthetic, but she makes it through the entire surgery just fine, then has a reaction over an hour later?”
“Not likely. I can understand why Yolanda suspects him.”
“Do you think he knew she was Yolanda’s niece?”
“Positive. Poor Xander,” I said, remembering her older brother with fondness. I couldn’t imagine what Yost put him through. “How did you get this information so fast?” I asked her.
“I just happen to know the charge nurse who was on duty that morning.”
“Sweet.”
“Yeah, but none of it can be proved. The nurses just found the whole thing odd. Nothing was ever reported, but they believe Yolanda overheard the nurses talking about it, which is why she suspects him.”
“Well, all this leads to one conclusion. Nathan Yost is more aggressive than I thought. I’ve never met anyone who could pull off such malice with such skill. The man is absolutely evil.”
“I don’t understand what he hoped to gain by it, though,” Cookie said.
“Revenge. He’s an opportunist, saw his chance. Yolanda left him. He was paying her back. Speaking of evil, I’m going out to get a look around Farley Scanlon’s trailer. Obviously, Earl Walker was close, possibly even staying with him.” The one time I’d seen him years ago, beating the fuck out of Reyes, was enough to last a lifetime. The mere thought of that man being close by made me lose consciousness a moment. Either that or the lack-of-sleep thing was catching up with me.
“And you’re going out to his house because it’s been days since someone has tried to kill you?”
With a weary grin, I said, “Of course. This everyday mundane stuff is getting old.”
“Can you at least wait for Garrett?”
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
“Don’t like him.”
“Yes, you do.”
“And I have to visit a biker gang this afternoon.”
“If I had a nickel for every time you said that.”
We hung up as I pulled into Farley’s lot. The mobile home was little more than a tin can, and while I liked mobile homes as much as the next girl, this one left a lot to be desired. Like Spam. It should be ham, but it just ain’t.
I picked the lock and ducked under the police tape just as a car slowed in front of the house. They didn’t stop, thankfully, but they were probably calling the police at that very moment, or performing some other civic- minded duty. Then again, they could’ve just been checking out my ass. Which, who could blame them?
A huge, misshapen bloodstain sullied the olive green carpet and wood paneling that stood as a bold testament to the hideous decor choices of the seventies. Since I’d lacked the forethought to bring gloves, I found a set of oven mitts and quickly searched through stacks of papers and filthy trash cans, no easy feat in oven mitts. I realized Earl Walker was probably not using the alias Earl Walker anymore. There were a couple of bills with the name Harold Reynolds. Sounded like a fake name if ever I heard one. I stuffed the bills into my bag and continued rummaging through the insanity of it all.
I sat concentrating on a photo of a man in a hat with antlers when the doorknob jiggled. After a quick curse, I rushed down the narrow hall and ducked into the bedroom at the end of the house. The front door opened, skyrocketing my heart rate into near panic. If the cops caught me out here, it would probably look bad.
Hoping I wouldn’t seize and make a ruckus, I peeked through the slit between the door and the wall. A man stood there with gun drawn, but I could only see part of his backside. The sun streaming in through a dirty window just past him made it impossible to see what kind of clothes he was wearing, but it didn’t look like a police uniform. Then a hand covered my mouth from behind, and I struggled to keep that last cup of coffee from coming back
