Page 30 of Dirty Weekend

“We’ll confirm his alibi in the morning. We’ve got a whole laundry list of people to talk to. If Hargrove really was rebooting his coaching staff and players then there’s the potential for a lot of pissed-off people.”

“Don’t forget parents,” I said. “Not to mention administrators, students, and just about anyone who has an interest in general. Football brings in a lot of money for this area. Especially when they’re winning. You heard Hill. They’ve got scouts at every game and practice for that quarterback.”

“We need to go back to the scene and look at it from the killer’s perspective,” Jack said. “Maybe we’ll see something new.”

There was a knock at the door and Cole stuck his head in. “Got a minute?”

Cole was a modern-day cowboy. His family had owned one of the tobacco farms in Bloody Mary, but they’d had to sell it off when hard times hit. Cole didn’t hold any resentment when Jack bought up the property as he’d not liked being a farmer anyway. He wore his usual uniform of Wranglers and an untucked denim shirt with the sheriff’s logo on the breast pocket, and his Stetson was already on his head.

He was a handsome man around forty who’d spent his life playing the field. He’d never been married and didn’t have any kids, at least that we knew of, and the relationship he had with Lily was the longest he’d ever had. I’d known Cole for a long time. He’d been a cop long before Jack had been elected sheriff. He was a good detective—slow and methodical—and he had a mind for puzzles. I’d always called him Cole. I had no idea what his first name was.

“I’ve got several minutes,” Jack said. “We’re not making any headway here.”

“Made an arrest on our gasoline guy,” Cole said. “Just finished up the paperwork.”

“What’s the story there?” Jack asked.

“Our vic was newly divorced,” Cole said. “Been married twenty-two years and trades in the wife for a younger model. They’ve got three kids. Youngest is eleven, oldest is twenty-two. And from what I can gather the new girlfriend has some money, so the victim starts telling the wife he’s hired the best attorneys and he’s going to take the kids and sell the house and leave her with nothing.”

“Sounds like a real man,” Jack said.

“Yeah, well, I guess something in the wife just snapped,” Cole said. “She’s known his habits for twenty-two years. And every morning he stops at the gas station on Windsor and Queen Margaret to buy a black coffee, a Red Bull, and a scratch-off. And every morning he parks blocking the alley, puts his drinks on the hood, and then he scratches off his ticket. The wife was waiting for him in the alley when he came out. She’d just filled up a paint bucket of gas. We’ve got her on security cams. She yells out his name and when he looks up she tosses the gasoline on him. And while he’s freaking out and screaming she calmly lights a match and he goes up like a torch.”

“Wow,” I said. “Just when you think you’ve heard it all.”

Cole grunted in agreement. “I guess there’s consequences for being an asshole. The wife gets in her car as calm as you please and drives away. And the store manager runs out with the fire extinguisher, just hoping the whole place doesn’t go up in flames. The victim had third degree burns on more than seventy percent of his body. He only lived about an hour after he got to the hospital.”

“That’s a terrible way to die,” I said, wincing.

“After I’d watched the surveillance tapes I got an arrest warrant for the wife,” Cole said. “When I got there she was waiting for me. She’d already made arrangements for the oldest sister to be the permanent guardian of the two younger siblings. And the kids are the beneficiaries in the ex-husband’s will and for his life insurance, so she knew they’d be taken care of financially.”

“So it’s premeditated,” Jack said. “She’ll go away forever.”

“She’ll go away somewhere forever,” Cole said. “She’s crazy as a loon.”

“Good work,” Jack told him. “At least that’s one put away.”

“Heard you caught a couple of good ones today,” Cole said. “I’m freed up if you need me.”

“I need you,” Jack said. “The Cami Downey case is going to take some legwork. Found her body in Gambo Creek. But we don’t have a murder site or weapon. All we have is a bunch of unlikeable roommates and speculation. And a knife missing from the block in the kitchen.”

“You got it, boss,” Cole said. “I’m heading out for the night. I need my bed in the worst way.”

“Tell Lily thanks again for the work she did on Steve Hargrove,” I told him. “She’s the one who found the skull fracturing.”

He made a face and said, “You’ll probably have to tell her yourself. Lily isn’t exactly talking to me right now.”

“Since when?” I asked. “I thought y’all were good. What happened?”

I looked at Jack. Cole had a reputation for a reason, and we’d both worried about what the fallout of this relationship might be from the beginning. It also made it hard because they weren’t just employees, but friends as well.

In all honesty, none of those questions were any of my business and I wouldn’t have blamed Cole at all for shutting me down, but I was too surprised to think of a more supportive and neutral response.

“I thought we were good too,” he said shrugging. He was acting like he wasn’t bothered by the whole thing, but he didn’t hide it that well. “We were fine this morning. She’s been staying at my place anyway, and we’d already decided she’d give up her apartment next month when her lease ends. And then today I asked her to marry me, and she said no. So I guess that’s that.”

Jack and I were both standing there with our mouths hanging open. That was not what I’d expected him to say at all.

“You asked Lily to marry you?” Jack asked.

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