Page 41 of Bone Echo

She hung up. He thought about calling her back, but why bother? After eight years of marriage, she should know that criminals don’t keep business hours. Most of them hide their deeds under cover of night, and then skulk off somewhere to get high on drugs or booze. During normal business hours, they’re holed up somewhere, sleeping.

Besides that, if Gloria Jean didn’t understand the gravity of a homicide detective trying to find his own murdered brother, then she had no business being a cop’s wife.

She’d always been above his pay-grade, anyhow, a gorgeous, highly intelligent woman who could have married anybody she wanted. Heaven only knew why she’d settled for him.

He pocketed his phone and trudged back to the war room, his appetite for pizza gone.

Jack was on the phone to the homicide division of the Little Rock Police Department. “Detective Jack Jackson here. I’m inquiring about a person of interest in a homicide case here in Memphis. Maxey Cayson. “

“We brought him in yesterday. He’s sitting in a cell awaiting extradition back to prison for breaking parole. He skipped out of state and made contact with his victim.”

“We know her. Her husband is missing and likely dead. We need an agency assist. Can you hold him until we get up there toquestion him?” Jack looked at Dudley, and he nodded. “We can be there in less than three hours.”

“Will do.”

Excitement in the room was high. The sooner they found Charlie’s attacker, the sooner they would find him. Arresting Maxey Cayson would be a relief, not just for the family but for forensics who knew that fresher bodies always have a better story to tell.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Little Rock, Arkansas

Maxey Cayson had been brought into the interrogation at the Little Rock Police Department in the middle of the night, and he was not happy about it. His thinning brown hair stuck up in a wad on the left side of his face where he’d been sleeping, and his scowl looked permanent. He was smaller than Dudley had pictured him, hardly the type of man who could have overcome a big man like Charlie and created the carnage he'd witnessed in his brother’s garage.

Still…rage can fuel extraordinary strength. And so can drugs.

When Dudley and Jack sat down on the other side of the table, Cayson fisted his cuffed hands that rested on top of the table and shifted in his chair. As if they needed any reminders, the chains rattling on his leg restraints reminded them that they faced a dangerous man.

Detective Rafe White, who had briefed them, was on the other side of the one-way mirror. He’d said Cayson had a hair-trigger temper and a record of assault that went back to his teenage years. He been in a juvenile facility more than once,and had spent time in jail for everything from petty theft to misdemeanor assault before doing time in prison for felony assault and rape.

Jack led off. “Do you know Laura Sue Hilliard Stephens?”

Cayson’s jaw tightened. “What kind of fool question is that? ‘Course, I know her! She’s my woman.”

“She’s the wife of Charles Stephens,” Jack said, and Cayson’s glare was daggers aimed at him. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“Never heard of him.”

Dudley slammed a recent photo of Charlie on the table, blown up so there was no mistaking his jovial face and the beard that had a hint of gray. “Does this refresh your memory?”

“Is that him?” Cayson was being a smart Alec. Dudley didn’t bother to reply. Laura had been standing in the doorway when Charlie threatened Cayson.Of course,heknew.“He’s one mean dude. Threatened to kill me. He ought to be in jail.”

Dudley’s own grief and rage threatened to swamp him. He found the man unbearable. “Did you visit his wife?” Silence from Cayson. “Did you try to get her to go off with you?” No answer. “Did the two if you plot to get rid of her husband so you could be together?” More stubborn silence.

“Did you kill Charles Stephens for your woman?” This from Jack.

Cayson shoved back his chair and jumped up, his body rigid with rage. “What are the two of you trying to pull? I ain’t going to prison for no murder!”

Ignoring the outburst, Jack cited the day of the murder and asked where he was.

“Picking my teeth.” Cayson sat back down. Smug.

“Is that your alibi?” Not a muscle on Jack’s face showed what he was thinking.

“I don’t need no alibi. I barely knew the man. Why would I kill him?”

“You tell me. I think you and Laura planned it, and you carried it out. If you can’t come up with a better alibi than picking your teeth, I see nothing to do but extradite you to Tennessee and let the homicide division of the Memphis Police Department deal with you.” Cayson paled. “By the way,” Jack added. “That would be me. And I’m already ticked off.”

“A’right, a’right. ‘Bout a week ago, I drove down there to try and talk some sense into Laura, but she wouldn’t listen. Just kept telling me to leave. Even had her nose curled up like I was a rotten egg or something.”

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