Page 75 of Long Gone

I wanted to be as cagey with him as he was being with me, but Malcolm was used to playing games and my brain wasn’t working at 100%.

I wasn’t used to holding back during an investigation. My old partner might have turned out to be an asshole, but at least he’d been a partner. Malcolm only fit the asshole qualification. He obviously had the advantage in this situation, and I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to tell him.

“We need a full list of Burton’s investors,” I said, figuring that was a safe topic since we’d already discussed it. “These people put in a lot of money. Three of them are dead. I’ve already talked to Brett Colter and Skip Martin. I know Colter was one of the original investors, but I still haven’t identified the other. For all we know, they’re behind Larkspur Limited. Hugo’s records are missing, along with his phone and laptop. Detective Jones said the desktop computer from his office didn’t have any records about the property on it.”

“And you believe that?” he asked wryly.

“He could have lied, but he had no reason to.”

“Why would Burton not have records on his desktop computer?” Malcolm asked.

“Good question. It seems unlikely, and given the fact that nothing was found in his office, I’m guessing his computer tower was replaced.”

“A decoy?” he asked. “Why? They took the laptop, why not just take the desktop too?”

“I don’t know. But someone definitely cleaned out his office. His wife went to clear it out and the office manager said Hugo was behind on the rent and he’d packed up Hugo’s belongings. But the only thing in the boxes were personal items. No contracts or business-related items.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did the sheriff’s department take them?”

“Detective Jones says he didn’t find any either when he finally got around to getting a search warrant to check it out,” I said. “He didn’t find his checkbook either. But he did confiscate the computer. Sounds like that was all that was left.”

He made a face, staring at the grave.

“But at some point,” I continued, “I’d planned to stop by the office and see if the office manager is still there. If not, we can try to get a name so we can talk to them.”

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Good idea.”

“But I need to get cleaned up first,” I said, glancing down at my jeans, which were flecked with mud and God knew what else. My hair was getting plastered to my head as the rain picked up, and even though I tried to keep my hood up, the wind kept blowing it back.

“Where was his office located?”

“Jackson Creek.”

He started to say something, but I interrupted. “If you’re about to suggest we split up, forget it.” He’d already pocketed something, so I was sticking to him like white on rice. “We do everything together now. You’re coming with me.”

“To your apartment?” he asked, his lips curling into a smile.

“Don’t read anything gross into it. My apartment is in Jackson Creek. It’ll be a pit stop.”

“Fine by me.”

His quick agreement made me nervous. I’d expected more resistance.

“We need to take one vehicle,” he said. “How about we drop this Jeep off, and I’ll ride with you.”

I liked that idea for multiple reasons, including that I wouldn’t have to dodge my mother’s questions about why a muddy Jeep was parked in front of her house. It was going to be hard enough dealing with her potentially seeing him walking up my stairs. But I’d worry about that later.

That seemed to be my new motto.

Chapter 18

Instead of dropping the Jeep off at the tavern like I’d expected, he parked it behind a half-deserted strip mall in Wolford. He got out and climbed into the passenger seat of my car, pushing the seat back to accommodate his long legs.

“You stink,” I said, trying not gag from the stench of rotten flesh wafting off him.

“You don’t smell much better.”

“Actually,” I said, pulling out of the parking lot, “I do smell better than you. I’m not carrying around something rotten in my pocket.”

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