Page 110 of The Killing Plains

Colly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “My opinion? A zealot. Criminal psychopaths trip over their own egos. Zealots don’t. And they’ll justify anything for their cause—they’ll die for it themselves, even. The 9/11 hijackers wiped out more people in one morning than all the serial killers put together, and they felt like heroes doing it.”

“There’s no radical extremists in Crescent Bluff.”

“Don’t be so sure. Nowadays, a lot of them are regular people who got sucked down some internet rabbit hole. They’re gullible, but they can be dangerous.” Colly turned and stared absently out of the window at the green-gray blur of the scrubland rushing by. “They get in their chatrooms and cut themselves off just as much as if they followed Charles Manson into the desert. You hardly notice them till something explodes, and you’re left picking up the pieces and trying to figure out what the hell happened.”

Chapter 30

The trip to Sweetwater was less productive than Colly had hoped. David Carroway’s therapist, an elderly gentleman with a grizzled goatee and an impassive face, believed that his client was being truthful about the incident with Willis, but he volunteered no additional details or insights. Colly asked about the possibility of a false or altered memory. Was there any chance that Willis had, in fact, molested Carroway, who later recast the event in his mind as something innocent? But the therapist didn’t think so, giving a long, jargon-laden explanation that Colly didn’t bother to untangle.

“Waste of time,” Avery grumbled when they were back in the cruiser. “What’s the plan?”

Colly rummaged for her sunglasses. “How far is it to Colorado City from here?”

“Probably half an hour.”

Colly checked her watch. “No time now.”

“For what?”

“The burner phone that sent me that threatening text was bought at a convenience store there last Saturday. The clerk told Russ he sold two phones that day—one to a middle-aged white female and one to a younger Black male. That’s all he remembers, and the store has no cameras. But whoever bought the phone could’ve made more than one stop. If we backtrack along the routefrom there to Crescent Bluff, maybe we’ll find someone who saw something—maybe even get video footage.”

“Sounds like the mother of all snipe hunts, to me.”

“I know it’s a long shot, but we’re out of leads. Identifying who bought that phone might be the break we need.”

Avery conceded the point with a shrug. “Why can’t we do it now?”

“School lets out in a couple hours.”

“Tonight, then?”

“I’ve got a dinner thing with Niall Shaw and Brenda—I’m hoping to pick their brains a little more about Denny. Sometimes when you hit a wall, it’s best to go back to victimology.” Colly chewed her lip. “Let’s do this: drop me in town, and then you drive the route to Colorado City. Stop everywhere. Talk to as many people and gather as much footage as you can. We’ll comb through it at the station tomorrow.”

Although Brenda had offered to pick up Satchel after school, Colly wanted to do it herself. Brenda’s account of the therapy sessions had alarmed her, and she couldn’t get Satchel’s crayon self-portraits out of her head. Colly had barely seen him in forty-eight hours, and they’d be apart again that night and much of tomorrow. Some quality time together would be good for them both.

“How was school?” she asked when he climbed into the car.

He shrugged noncommittally but brightened when she suggested a trip to Dairy Queen. A few minutes later, they were seated at a picnic table under the ice cream shop’s faded awning drinking strawberry milkshakes.

Satchel chattered excitedly about spending the night at the ranch. “Minnie got a new hamster named Toby. He’s funny—herolls around the house in a clear plastic ball. She’s gonna take him to show Grandma Iris tonight.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I wanna take my ant farm to the ranch. Can we go get it?”

Colly sighed. She’d been dreading this conversation. The ant farm had gotten knocked off the nightstand and broken, she told him. But she’d get him a new one. He listened solemnly and asked no questions. When she finished explaining, he began to talk about going to the Rattlesnake Rodeo the next day as if he hadn’t heard what she’d said.

She drove Satchel to Brenda’s house at four-thirty and kissed him goodbye. “Be good for Grandma Iris. You’re going to stay there with Logan and Minnie till Aunt Brenda comes to take you to the Rodeo tomorrow afternoon.”

“Aren’t you coming to the Rodeo, too?”

“Maybe, buddy—I’ll have to see. I’ve got lots of work to do.”

Brenda walked Colly to her car. “Go home and clean up. I’ll take the kids to the ranch and pick you up around six. Niall lives kind of far—it’s easier if we go together.”

When Colly returned to the farmhouse, she was startled to find that she couldn’t unlock the door. She double-checked to make sure she had the right key, then tried again. The key went into the lock but wouldn’t turn. The memory of yesterday’s break-in still fresh, she cursed and drew her pistol. She circled the house, but all the doors and windows were secure. Pulling out her phone to call Russ, she saw a missed text from him. He’d changed the locks that morning. The new key was under the gas can in the carport.

Feeling relieved and a bit foolish, Colly found the key and went inside. After showering, she surveyed her clothing options before pulling on a pair of clean jeans and a simple plum-colored top. She was just tying her thick, unmanageable hair into a loose ponytail when Brenda rang the bell.

“Thank God you’re in jeans, too,” Colly said as they climbed into the rental sedan Brenda had been driving since the snake incident. “There’s no way I was going to ask to borrow something again, after what happened to your blue dress Monday.”

Brenda turned the ignition and put the car in reverse. “Casual clothes are mandatory at Niall’s. Chances are good he’ll drag us outside to admire his fishing hole.”

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