Page 103 of Obsession

“I’d love to.” Then she eyed him suspiciously. “But I thought you were cutting me out of the investigation.”

He didn’t want to tell her he feared she might get into more trouble on her own than if she was with him. “You want to go or not?”

“Of course I do, but—”

“Okay!” He raised his hands. “If I’m not going to be in town, I like knowing you’re safe.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. How about Oxford? Will we go there as well?”

“It depends on how much time it takes in Jackson. Oxford is not quite two hours from the capital, but it’d be a four-hour trip back.”

“What time do you want to leave?”

“Seven thirty, quarter to eight?” His cell phone rang. Nate. “Ryker,” he answered.

“I have the directions to Trey’s cabin,” Nate said. “I’m emailing them to you.”

“Thanks. Which direction is it in?”

“It’s thirty miles south of Natchez off 61, back in the boonies,” Nate said. “You don’t want to try to find it at night.”

“Do you know how long he planned to be off?” Maybe he could wait until Trey returned to work.

“He said a few days.”

“I’m going to Jackson tomorrow morning. If I get back in time, would you like to ride along to his cabin?”

“Probably a good idea. I’ve at least been there once.”

Sam disconnected and turned to Emma. “Sorry.”

“What was that about?”

“Trey. Did you know he worked for the park service maintenance crew during the summers when he was in college? And he operated the backhoes.”

“You’re kidding. That means he would be familiar with how they work. Have you asked him about it?”

“Not yet. He’s off hunting, and that was Nate giving me directions to his cabin. I hope I have time to look him up tomorrow, which means we definitely won’t be going to Oxford.”

“You don’t seriously think he killed Ryan and buried him at Mount Locust, do you?”

“Someone did.”

“But that would mean he killed Mary Jo and these other cases you found as well. I just don’t see Trey doing anything like that.”

“You never completely know a person. He and Gordon and your brother were drinking that night, and they could’ve gotten into a fight after they left the tavern.” His mother’s ringtone sounded on his cell phone. “Hold on a minute. It’s my mom.” He punched the answer button. “Hello?”

“Sam, you have to come to the hospital.”

His heart pounded in his chest. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“It’s not me. It’s your dad. He’s had a heart attack.”

57

As he listened to the live feed on his phone, he cleaned the .22 rifle and laid it next to the .22 semiautomatic pistol that had been his mother’s gun.

The bug had proven to be invaluable. It kept him one step ahead of Ryker, but now another problem had cropped up. One he should have taken care of a long time ago. He picked up the pistol, aimed it at the door, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

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