Page 89 of Trailer Trash

“Who keeps calling you?” I asked.

“Skeeter.”

My eyes widened. “Don’t you need to answer it? If he’s calling after midnight, it’s probably important.”

“He’s probably drunk off his ass and calling to chew me out. I’m not dealing with it now.”

“But—”

“I need to take care of this mess first. I want you to wait here in our room while I take care of the body.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head with a firm look. “I let you be part of digging up the body because you needed to do it, but I need you to trust me to take care of this. I can do it a lot faster and more efficiently if I’m not worrying about you, although I hope to God Carla didn’t tell Branson where we’re staying.” He held up his hand to stop my forthcoming protest. “But while I wish you hadn’t told her, I understand why you did.”

“She won’t tell him, Jed. And even if she does, he’ll never know what room we’re in.”

“We found Stella,” he said in a sardonic tone. “And we didn’t know which apartmentshewas in.”

I clenched my fists. “If Branson Desoto shows up at my door, you’ll have to bury two bodies.”

He gave me a smug look—not happy exactly, but bordering on pleased.

Crap. I could have used Branson as an excuse to go with Jed. While I didn’t reallywantto go with him, it didn’t feel right to let him take care of the body for me. I had no idea why he was putting himself at such risk, but the least I could do was let him set the rules.

“I trust you, Jed. You wouldn’t be here with me if I didn’t trust you.”

He looked relieved. “If Branson shows up at your door, call 911, but shoot to kill if he finds his way into the room. Got it?”

“But . . .the police?”

“He can’t hurt you now, Neely Kate. There’s no body, and he would never want to tie himself to the crime anyway. At least not so directly. But if you’re going to shoot him, make sure you call the police first; it helps prove self-defense. And if it comes to pulling the trigger, shoot to kill.”

“Jed . . .”

He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. “Why don’t you get some sleep while you wait for me? But be sure to put the chain on the door and keep the gun by the bed. When I come back, we’ll get a few hours of sleep before leaving. We can head to Colorado first thing in the morning. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Could my nightmarereallyalmost be over?

“Good. The sooner we get out of Ardmore, the better.” He glanced up at our room. “Call me at any sign of trouble.”

“Okay.” But I didn’t get out of the car. “Are you burying the bag too?”

“No. I still need to go through it, but I won’t be leaving it with the body.”

I got out of the car, and he waited until I got inside the room. I fastened the dead bolt and then stood at the window and watched him drive away, wondering where he planned to go. Was it better not to know?

I dropped the curtain and took a long shower, washing my hair even though I wasn’t supposed to get my stitches wet. I felt like I was covered in dirt and guilt, and I needed to get every part of me clean. When I got out, I dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of loose shorts and got into bed. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was after two in the morning, but I was sure I’d never get to sleep. I kept reliving that night five years ago over and over in my head, seeing Pearce Manchester’s face as he turned around to look at me in disbelief as I strangled him.

For some reason, knowing his name made his murder more real, yet I asked myself if he’d bothered to learnmyname. He’d called me plenty of other names, and Neely Kate hadn’t been one of them. He had deserved every bit of what he’d gotten.

So why did I still feel so dirty?

I must have finally drifted off, because the next sound I heard was a rap at the door and my phone ringing next to my head. I bolted upright, sure Branson had found me. Before I could grab my gun, I registered that Jed’s name was on the screen of my phone. The call ended as I got up, but there was no need to answer anyway. A few steps brought me to the door, and I could see Jed’s face through the peephole.

When I opened the door, he looked exhausted and reeked of a bonfire.

“Why do you smell smoky?” I asked as I let him in.

“I decided it wasn’t enough to bury him somewhere different. I burned the body, along with his clothes and the sheets. No DNA evidence to trace you to him should he ever get discovered.” He looked into my eyes. “You’re safe, Neely Kate. Branson definitely can’t hurt you anymore.”

“He still might try.”

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