Page 52 of Crosshairs

“Just letting you know I’m here and coming in the back door—don’t shoot.”

She sent him a thumbs-up and rolled her suitcase to the kitchen as he entered. “Thanks for helping me move these things. I’ll be right back with my hanging clothes.”

A Natchez patrol car was idling in front of the house when they walked her things over to Cora’s. “I called Pete,” Linc said. “There’ll be extra patrols in this neighborhood until Maddox is caught.”

While the extra protection was necessary, Ainsley didn’t like being the recipient. “I’ll have to call and thank him.”

Linc waited by the SUV while she stored her things in Cora’s spare downstairs bedroom, then she called Sam to meet them at the Hanovers’.

He opened the passenger door. “Is he coming?”

“Might be a little late, but he’ll be there.” She programmed Connie Hanover’s address into her phone and buckled up as the GPS spit out the directions.

Linc was quiet as he worked his way to Highway 61, occasionally glancing in the side mirror. Ainsley did likewise. “You think someone might tail us?”

“It doesn’t hurt to be careful even though I haven’t seen anyone.”

Neither had she. The GPS took them down deserted country roads. At least it was easy to spot anyone following them. The Hanover house turned out to be a single-wide mobile home set back off the road in a wooded area. One car sat jacked off the ground with the wheels removed and weeds growing around it. Another had the hood missing and the motor hoisted overhead.Don’t make snap judgments.Connie’s husband could be some sort of mechanic.

A dog barked to her left and Ainsley turned, catching her breath. The dog, a boxer, strained against the chain tethered tohis collar. He’d worn a perfect circle in the grass. She hated seeing a dog chained. At least the Hanovers had staked him in the shade and provided what looked like a bucket of water.

“Did Sam say how late he’d be?” Linc asked.

“No.” Ainsley scanned the area. Nothing unusual caught her eye, and she checked her watch. Seven on the dot. Her cell rang. “It’s him. I’ll put the call on speaker.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Tied up with an accident near Mount Locust. A deer jumped into the path of a motorist. Probably be here forty-five minutes to an hour. I’m sorry.”

Ainsley drummed her fingers on the armrest. “I’m going ahead with Mrs. Hanover’s interview. We didn’t have a tail and I don’t see how anyone could know we’re here.”

“You sure no one followed you?”

“Didn’t see anyone behind us at any time.”

Once Sam reluctantly agreed, she disconnected and turned to Linc. “Ready?”

They climbed the block steps to the porch, and Ainsley knocked on the door, hoping Connie Hanover would hear it over the rattling air conditioner in the window. She was about to knock again when the door jerked opened. Ainsley stepped back as the woman she assumed was Mrs. Hanover stepped onto the porch. A baby screamed in the background.

“Mrs. Hanover? I’m ISB Ranger Ainsley Beaumont. I talked with you earlier,” she said, showing her badge before nodding toward Linc. “And this is Lincoln Steele.”

“Mrs. Hanover is my mother-in-law. Just call me Connie,” the large-boned woman replied. A cigarette dangled from her fingers. Probably the reason for the raspy voice. “Mind if we talk out here? The baby is having a fit right now.”

“Do you need to see about—”

“My older daughter is seeing to her. Don’t know what she meant getting pregnant so soon after marrying that no-good ...bum. He hit the road already.” She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and closed the door. “Tried to tell her she needed to get an education first, but no, she had to do things her way.”

“I’m sorry,” Ainsley said.

She sighed. “Got a beautiful grandbaby out of it, though, so I oughtn’t to complain too much.” She pointed to lawn chairs under a huge live oak. “Let’s sit under the tree over there.”

The dog barked as they followed Connie to the tree where chairs sat around a small firepit. “Hush up, Buster!” Connie shook her head. “Dog barks all the time.”

Ainsley took in the low rock fence and a raised bed of forget-me-nots. “Your flowers are pretty, and someone has put in a lot of hard work on the wall.”

“Thanks. Hannah helped me build it.” She looked away from them, her chin quivering. “We hauled those rocks in from the river. She was a good girl.”

Ainsley had interviewed parents of murdered children only twice before, and it was the hardest assignment she’d ever had.

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