Page 117 of The Killing Plains

Niall studied Colly’s face. “Look, Brenda’s going to be a great clinician. But she’s new at this.”

“Meaning?”

“She’s got a touch of New Therapist Syndrome—lots of head-knowledge, but not much clinical experience, yet. The real world doesn’t always match what it says in the textbooks.”

“Satchel has the same symptoms Denny had. You said yourself that Den—”

“Denny tried to burn down a school, and he got his kicks bullying younger kids and torturing small animals. That’s very different from a child who inflicts minor burns on himself and accidentally kills his cousin’s hamster.”

Colly looked doubtful but said nothing.

“Satchel’s a sensitive kid who’s experienced major trauma. He’s got a loving family. He’s getting the help he needs. He’ll be fine.” Niall picked up the sneaker again and bent to put it on. “For the record, I don’t think Denny was beyond hope, either. No kid’s hereditarily doomed to be a monster, no matter what their PETscan shows. If I thought they were, I wouldn’t be in this line of work.” He straightened and gave Colly a penetrating look. “Did Satchel say what the fight was about?”

Colly felt suddenly hot. “Logan repeated something he heard—about me.”

“About how your husband and daughter died?”

“Ofcourseyou’ve heard about it.”

“Brenda never said anything, in case you’re wondering. But yeah, rumors fly in a small town.”

“I didn’t hire anyone to kill my husband and daughter for the insurance money, if that’s what you heard.”

Niall laughed as he tied the second shoe. “I did hear that, as a matter of fact. And I dismissed it out of hand.” He sat up and cocked his head, studying her face. “What’s the real story? Can I ask?”

“Why not? The truth’s not as bad as the rumors.” Colly ran her fingers distractedly through her hair. “Abridged version—I made a mistake in an investigation, and my family got killed because of it.”

“And the unabridged version?”

Colly sighed. “A few years ago in Houston, we had a series of strangling-murders of young women and girls.” She spoke slowly, staring into space. “The victims were mostly prostitutes, drug addicts—people who don’t always get reported missing right away, which complicated things. For months, we had nothing. Then finally, we got a lead on a suspect, but the guy was very slick about covering his tracks. He lived with his elderly mother. She had dementia and never went out, but she had a storage unit that the son visited a lot. That seemed strange. I thought if we searched it, we were bound to find something. But no judge would give us a warrant. Called it a fishing expedition.”

Colly stopped. Niall was sitting with his legs crossed and one arm along the back of the sofa, his face registering nothing but friendly interest. He nodded encouragingly.

“One day, a sixteen-year-old vanished while walking home from a babysitting gig. Janie Krause was her name. She didn’t really fit the victim profile, but the MO was similar. And unlike the rest, she was reported missing the night she disappeared, which gave us an edge. We knew the others had been held somewhere for a few days before they were killed, so I thought there was a chance our suspect might have her tied up in that storage unit. I talked the manager of the place into giving me access. I figured a search was justified as an exigent circumstance. If the girl was in there, she could be dead by the time I got a warrant.”

“Did you find her?”

Colly met his eyes. “Not then. Hunters stumbled on her remains three months later. But we found other things—a trove of evidence. Including proof the guy was already stalking another victim.”

“You saved a life—maybe a lot of lives. How’s that a screwup?”

“Judge didn’t see it that way. He was a real hard-liner. When it came to trial, he wouldn’t let us use any of the storage-unit evidence, even though other judges had ruled similar searches legal in the past. So the bad guy walked. You should’ve seen him smirk. All the victims’ families were extremely upset, of course. Most blamed the judge. But Janie Krause’s dad blamed me—went out of his mind. He wanted me to know...” Colly’s throat contracted. She looked away.

“He wanted you to know how it felt to lose someone you loved?” Niall asked gently.

Colly nodded. “Victoria and Satchel were living with us then, while she finished community college. She and Randy were at the house alone that afternoon—I’d taken Satchel with me to the store.When we got home, the door inside the garage was standing open. Before I could stop him, Satchel ran inside. He saw them first.”

“That’s horrible. Poor kid.”

Colly rubbed her palms on her knees. “The cops found Krause dead in his garage an hour later. Shotgun under the chin. He left a letter addressed to me.” She winced. “That was two years ago. After that, I resigned from the force. Couldn’t do it anymore. Since then, I’ve just been taking care of Satchel and trying to figure out my next move.”

“Crescent Bluff blames you for everything, eh?” Niall said. “What about the Newlands?”

“Russ and Brenda have been kind. Iris and Lowell, so-so. I dread the day Satchel finds out the details.”

“Aren’t you being a little hard on yourself? You made a judgment call in a high-stakes situation, and it backfired through no fault of your own. Most people—” Niall was interrupted by a ringtone. He pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “I’m so sorry, I’ve got to take this. I’m on call this weekend.”

Colly stood up. “I need to get back to town, anyway. Mind if I go look for the phone myself?”

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